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angel-fics · 2 years ago

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Darkness Within the Light

Chapter 1 of my A Dwayne Stephens x Latina!Pregnant!Witch!OC story

Warnings: descriptions of gore/violence, violence, blood, sex, crude language, language, toxic mentalities, toxic relationships

Summary: this first chapter doesn’t actually have any warnings besides what can maybe be interpreted as stockholm syndrome. Anyway, we start off with a meeting between the vampires about Max possibly creating a new mother for his lost boys (plus Star)

“Now, young boys need a mother. A kind, nurturing and loving mother,” their powerful leader spoke, his chiding voice echoing off the walls of the sunken hotel.

“No offense, Father, but we aren’t exactly ‘young boys’,” the youngest, Paul, jokingly pointed out, the firelight reflecting off of his bloodstained teeth. Marko, who was lazily lounging beside him, chuckled in agreement.

David sighed slowly, coolly as he was ought to do, considering both his father’s words and his brother’s argument. Star and Laddie idled by in their room, watching the exchange curiously, but silently. He had to take them into consideration, Max did as well. Max was the sire to six vampires, two of which were mere fledglings. It was a curious amount of children to have without a mother in the picture. Especially when the family resemblance was all over the place. Still, it would be hard to explain such conditions to a new woman, vampire or not. Vampires were territorial by nature - Max’s lost boys plus two would always be his, solely his.

A human woman would be easier to indoctrinate into their merry little clan, especially if she were Max’s mate, but the odds of finding such as woman as Max was describing were next to zero. At the same time, David knew that Max wasn’t truly proposing the idea to them. They weren’t that type of clan. He’d made up his mind already, and used their latest delinquent endeavors - this time, a particularly messy feeding - to inform them of his decision. In any case, as a father, because he wasn’t just their sire, he would want his children’s input.

Paul and Marko, only 10 years into their immortality, weren’t looking for yet another source of authority like Max to keep them in line. David didn’t care either way; Max knew of their approach to the lifestyle he granted them and let them be so long as they stayed within certain lines. Star and Laddie hadn’t been around long enough for their opinions to matter much, neither had even taken the multiple chances they had to feed, yet. Until they did so, their chances of speaking up at these “meetings” were limited.

David looked to Dwayne, to prob his mind for a hint on his position in this matter. Since returning to their “home”, Dwayne has remained silent. Even now, his dark eyes never strayed from Max’s pacing form. Usually jovial after feeding, attending to Laddie and Star or joking with Paul, Dwayne’s reflective demeanor told David what he needed to know. Dwayne had come to the same solution he had, and was curious to what Max’s response would be to Paul.

“Now, now, son, we ought to look at this a bit more openly. Our kind doesn’t change much and you still are very young in many aspects, especially in comparison to your older brothers. A mother might be just what you six need to tame out your roughness,” Max dismissed easily. David raised an eyebrow at the inclusion of Star and Laddie in Max’s statement, but continued to say nothing. The two new comers had been with them a few months now and had refused to turn to their way of life, David hadn’t truly known how Max had taken that rejection until now. Fledgling or not, anyone who had ingested Max’s blood belonged to him on a certain level.

Star had joined them first, several months ago. Drawn in by their dark natures, so different from her light and laidback lifestyle, she was fascinated and attracted to their dangerous intensity. It hadn’t taken much effort or persuasion to get her to drink Max’s blood, but once she’d realized their deception, she was appalled. It wasn’t as though there was much she could do at that point however, and she didn’t have any opportunities besides joining them. And join them she did, albeit begrudgingly, as there was a large part of her human life that she outright refused to leave behind.

She didn’t have parents or a particularly rewarding job, but she had a brother. A young boy who would be left alone in the world without her. He needed her and she needed him. There would be no way to get her to accept her new life with them without that child. Though Paul and Marko were heavily against the idea, not wanting to be eternal babysitters to someone’s brother, Max had developed a soft spot for his only daughter, as resistant as she was. So he turned Laddie, too. While is wasn’t what Star had in mind, nor what she wanted for the boy, it was better than them being separated forever and him being alone.

Now, months later, she’d refused to kill and forbid Laddie from doing so as well. Max, for the most part, took a “laissez faire” approach to them. He didn’t really interact with them much and left them to their own devices as he did with his other children. The boys had all taken numerous attempts to include them or convince them to feed. Dwayne and Paul especially. Since Max’s role in Santa Carla was to be absent from them as an entity, Dwayne had taken over the fatherly role towards Laddie, with the younger boy clearly looking up to him as such. Out of all of them, Paul’s light-heartedness and good humor defrosted Star’s icy demeanor enough that she could tolerate being in the same room as them and trust them enough to care for Laddie in ways she couldn’t. If David knew of how things would turn out when he asked Max to change her, he still would’ve done it.

While he couldn’t quite put a finger on how he felt about Star, hell, how any of them truly felt about her, there was a sense of rightness when she and Laddie were around. So it didn’t matter to him whether how he felt about her was romantic or not, she was theirs and they were hers. And they’d have eternity to figure out all the smaller details. No matter the circumstances, Star and Laddie drank Max’s blood and joined his clan. Making their odd family a bit more complete.

Despite all this, she rarely spoke aloud in front of Max. Whether it was because of fear, or because of her lack of willingness to kill, she was too intimidated to regularly give her opinions where he was concerned. Laddie didn’t have the same problem, but he always remained glued to his sister’s side when in a room with Max. The siblings were very clearly intimidated by their creator.

“And what would you make of this, my dear Star? You’re much too young to deal with the burdens of true motherhood, especially where these four are concerned. Do you share in Paul’s opinion?” Max implored, pausing in his thoughtful pacing and securing his full attention on Star. Unlike with Paul, this was leagues more genuine a question. It was the most patient and fatherly he’d been since turning Laddie. When you spend months getting verbally rejected by your father in front of strangers to put up a convincing front, it was hard to separate the act from what was true, no matter how many times the routine was played.

Star startled from her position on her bed, jostling Laddie who was fiddling with some sort of odd gimmick Marko had stolen for him. She blinked owlishly at Max, lips parted for words she hadn’t been prepared to speak. Max waited for her response patiently and Dwayne turned to watch her quizzically, the most expressive he’d been in an hour.

Tucking a curly section of her long, dark locks behind her ear, she nodded jerkily before clearing her throat. “I agree with you. It would be nice to have another girl around. And it would be nice for you to have a mate, sir.”

Max smiled and hummed in a mock questioning tone, pleased with her input. He sighed, much in the same matter David had, and resumed pacing. David himself was shocked at the exchange. He was able to count all the times Star and Max had interacted on one hand and still have a finger or two left over. Still, he remained in his silent game of sorts with Dwayne, who also hadn’t said a single word.

Laddie, emboldened by Star’s exchange with Max, scampered onto Marko’s lap so that he and Paul could show him how to figure out the toy. Star gazed after him longingly, obviously preferring for her brother to stay with her, both to protect him and use him as a buffer from the others. Still, David could tell that it warmed her heart to see her brother so relaxed and happy, chattering away with the blonde duo.

He caught Dwayne’s eye after a few moments of the pseudo-domestic scene, with Max ceasing his pacing to sit and observe the scene of his three youngest sons’ interaction with one another. It was a perfect few minutes, but as far as David and Dwayne were concerned, the prior conversation was far from over. One glance at Star’s tense form, waiting with bated breath, she knew that, too.

Dwayne, taking the ever-rare lead as oldest of Max’s children, adjusted his position to mirror that of his father’s. Max was temporarily distracted from his musing by the change and focused on the brunette.

“Addition aside, where exactly are you planning on finding this woman, father? A vampire would never accept us, she wouldn’t accept being mated to a clan that isn’t hers,” Dwayne reasoned, raising an eyebrow at Max.

The benevolent babbling of the chaotic trio dropped off suddenly, watching the two oldest members of the clan in rapt attention. It wasn’t often that Dwayne spoke in length and for all of the clan, besides David and Max, of course, they’d never heard him say so much without provocation. Hell, they didn’t even know that Dwayne was the oldest. For all of his seriousness and intensity, David was simply better in-tuned to a leadership role among Max’s creations. Nonetheless, if Dwayne ever needed to get a point across, David would defer to him.

Dwayne was as much of a wild child as any of them. Always up for causing trouble and making mischief with his brothers. Unlike the others, though, he preferred to hang back most of the time, observant and reserved. Out of all of them, he hardly ever got into trouble with Max or human authorities. Not because he was a goody-two-shoes, but because he wasn’t a loudmouth and didn’t get caught. (Marko and Paul) But on occasions such as these, David knew Dwayne could pull through to their father in ways he couldn’t. Max wasn’t one to cast favoritism on his children, but as his first son, Dwayne was often considered his right hand on more serious topics.

“Yes, a female vampire wouldn’t suit us, we’d have to find a mortal woman to suit us. One who is mature, warm, and accepting to having such a large brood,” Max agreed easily, the picture of relaxation in comparison to the large young man who sat hunched before him on a downtrodden velvet couch.

“As well as completely accepting of our true forms and willing to be turned herself. She couldn’t truly be your mate if she didn’t turn herself. It’s a lot to ask for,” Dwayne added, brows furrowed and shoulders tense.

David sucked in a breath at Dwayne’s last statement. David was, by nature, defiant and rude. But never to his father, his sire. Though polite and monotone, Dwayne’s words were a clear criticism of Max’s expectations, which David - nor Paul, Marko, Star or Laddie - would never dream of saying aloud. Even if he did agree. (He does.)

Max nodded absently, not offended by Dwayne’s defiance in the slightest. “Yes, it would be quite difficult, near impossible, to find such a woman. Especially one without burdens of her own to deal with,” Max bemused, still nodding, looking nowhere in particular.

Dwayne’s eyebrows launched to near his hairline in shock as some sort of realization struck him. He sat up, lips parted in incredulity. From their position of the larger couch across the room, Marko and Paul tore their gazes from their game with Laddie to watch their brother and father’s interaction end suddenly. Star wandered over to stand behind Marko, laying a hand on his shoulder. They all tried to figure out the startling information that had stunned Dwayne so much.

“You aren’t looking for a woman to change into being our mother,” Dwayne explained aloud for them, leaning away from Max, fists clenched on his denim clad thighs. “You’re looking to change a woman who’s already a mother herself”

The atmosphere within their poorly lit dwelling stilled, as if Dwayne himself had paralyzed the air itself with his words. No one moved or spoke as Max’s implications swirled through their minds. It gave David a headache, but he didn’t dare speak. Star grabbed a hold of Laddie, her other hand fisting into the leather shoulder of Marko’s jacket. Paul lifted a hand to stroke her waist comfortingly, but he didn’t look away from his sire.

Marko breaks the intense silence first. “Dad? What does that mean for us? Our clan is large enough as is. Adding your mate is fine, but her potential children, too? That’s wicked risky,” Marko reasoned, laying his own hand on top of Star’s clenched fist, still on his shoulder.

Max focused his aimless state onto the curly-haired blonde, fingers drumming into the armrest of the leather recliner he was sitting in. His claws extended slightly, shredding the worn material beneath his pale fingertips. He gave no other indications that he was anything other than perfectly at ease. Still, he said nothing, his light eyes fixated on the chaotic trio huddled together, with Star carding her fingers through Laddie’s hair to ease his obvious discomfort.

David knew Max wasn’t truly frustrated at them, he was simply responding to their tension. As their sire, and father, he was loathe to accept any discomfort his children might have. He might’ve made this decision already, but it genuinely mattered to him that his lost children were all comfortable with the changes.

“A larger clan could be a good thing, my boy. Rogue vampires and small clans would be foolish to try and penetrate our forces. We’d also have a larger feeding ground. Meaning, that we wouldn’t be forced to leave as often, maybe not at all,” Max drawled, eager to put them at ease.

What he was saying was true, of course. Other vampires would steer clear of larger clans, they had at one point. Even with the five of them, they weren’t a large clan. Star and Laddie wouldn’t truly count to the larger population until they fed, no matter how attached they were to them. Most large clans did find a low maintenance location to settle permanently, using the advantage of larger areas to feed on outer human communities instead of locally. Santa Carla wasn’t like most places, though. There were many instances of murder and disappearances long before they had arrived, Max had made sure of it when moving them. Logistically, adding more members would provide an advantage to them. And Max was at a point where he needed a mate, instead of companions and children. Not that they were truly children, but they were his and he was theirs.

“Still, like Dwayne said, someone like that would be hard to find. The biggest problem would be to accept what we are and to agree to the change,” Star spoke up, more at ease since being asked previously. Dwayne eyed her at the mention of his name before refocusing on Max.

“Yes, of course, but remember that stranger things have happened, darling,” Max advised, encouraging her - all of them - to be more open minded and optimistic.

“Yeah, no offense, Pops, but where are you planning on finding this wonder woman of a mom? The woman here don’t tend to do the best job at caring for themselves, not to mention their own kids,” Paul joked, lightening the mood considerably. He reached across Marko to where Laddie sat on his other side and gently jabbed a finger into his ribs, causing the younger boy to squeal slightly and curl around Marko’s lithe form. Star giggled at his antics, finally letting go of Marko to ruffle his hair.

“That’s for sure,” David agreed, forcing himself to relax into his usual good-humored self. Dwayne followed his lead and spread out on his end of the couch, arms rested along the back end and long legs stretched out completely. His massive form took up most of the limited space.

“There are five billion people on this planet and women make up for more than half of them, I’m quite certain that we can find the one woman who fits into our family, along with her own,” Max conceded, enjoying the domestic scene in front of him immensely. With David’s gift of telepathy, it was hard to resist truly relaxing while within Max’s mind. He agreed to go along with it easily enough, though he didn’t look forward to babysitting even more baby fledglings, the idea truly didn’t seem like a bad one. So long as she didn’t interfere with their fun.

“Hmmm, stranger things have happened,” Dwayne repeated, closing his eyes and lolling his head to the side, chest rising and falling slowly.

“Yes, and who knows, our clan would be growing further as you all find your own mates,” Max added lightly, smiling with a happy twinkle in his eye.

David smiled warmly at the life inside the dark and dead hotel as the sounds of Marko and Paul’s loud jesting with Laddie and Star’s giggles bounced off the walls. The dull candlelight danced across everyone’s smiling and peaceful faces, even the sleeping Dwayne looked happy. He considered his father’s words thoughtfully, and secretly began to become enthused at the coming changes in his life.

~*~*~ Meanwhile, on the coastal highway just outside of Santa Carla ~*~*~

As the full moon reached its brightest and highest point in the night sky and the stars sparkles brilliantly in the endless dark expanse of the night sky, an old Volkswagen bus sputtered along the old road. Tires sending swirls of dirt, sand and dust dancing into the warm air before settling back to the ground. The ocean waves roared above the congested sounds of an old engine, and drowned out the sleepy singing from within the cab.

“Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry

And I will sing a lullaby

Golden slumbers fill your eyes

Smiles awake when you rise

Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry

And I will sing a lullaby

Once there was a way

To get back homeward

Once there was a way

To get back home

Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry

And I will sing a lullaby”

The young woman yawned at the end of the song, exhaustion clouding her vision slightly. She was very thankful that there didn’t seem to be anyone on the road at the time and tried to clear her mind of the sleepiness. She hummed thoughtlessly for something to do and resisted the urge to tap her legs, which felt very heavy.

Running a hand through her hair and tugging on a few strands, she harshly blinking her eyes to combat her bleary vision, she remained determined to finish her week-long drive instead of parking on the side of the highway for a nap. Her destination was so close, she wouldn’t be able to bear not ending it ahead of time. She also had to take into account that her old lemon of a van probably wouldn’t start again if she stopped right now. And she was in no position to push the behemoth of an eyesore for a vehicle the last two miles it took to reach Santa Carla.

Less than two miles, she cheered inwardly when she saw the Welcome to Santa Carla sign that stood tall up ahead. Suddenly rejuvenated, she anxiously watched ahead for any life inside the beach town. Just across the way lay the board walk, smaller waves crashing into the pillars that held up the structure teeming with life. Everywhere she cast her eyes held signs of joy and exuberance. Small shops and kiosks practically sat on top of each other with large groups of people steaming in and out of them. Large rollercoasters sent screaming carts into the air, zipping to and from, end to end. Long lines stood waiting impatiently for the chance to play a game for cheap prizes.

She sighed contently, relieved to have arrived to her new home, absorbing the energy that was just out of reach. She could practically hear and smell and feel it all, even from so far away. There was something else, something less lively and a bit darker, but still extremely potent to her unnatural senses. It was familiar and welcome, very similar to her own energy. It tingled within her pleasantly and helped her feel even more at ease within her new sanctuary.

Sliding a hand down to the plump fat of her belly, where a clump of cells was growing within her womb, she rubbed comfortingly and enthusiastically. As if trying to wake her unborn child so that they might experience the atmosphere along with her.

“Can you feel that, lovey, this is where we are meant to be, this is our home.”

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end of chapter 1, hope y’all like it, lemme know

so like, i realize that both referencing Max’s mate with the OC being pregnant AND having the chapter primarily be in David’s POV can be misleading, but i promise it’ll get back on track. this story will have Max and Lucy together and i need help with David

I don’t know if David should end up with Star or Michael. Or if Michael and Star should be together? Or if Michael and Star and David should be together. Or if i should just make more OCs for the other boys?

Also, lemme know if you guys have any OCs for the other characters!

Currently available characters are

*Paul

*Marko

*Sam

*Alan

*Edgar

*(maybe) David

this chapter is dedicated @poisonprincess82

thank you for being my first follower on my new account, very much appreciated

#dwayne the lost boys #fanfic #my writing #the lost boys #david the lost boys #max the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #romance #smut

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anotherworldash · 2 years ago

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This thought always bothers me what if kaname that yuki was pregnant , would he have not thrown his heart into the furnace ,or would have been more determined to protect the world ?

I personally believe that if he knew, he wouldn't throw his heart into the furnace and will try to find another way to save the world. Simply because he wanted to.

It might seems unbelievable, but despite being logical, kaname is a guy whose action is honest to his heart. He had a plan and he ruined it himself because he wanted to.(although this is partly initiated by yuki's request of her memory, let's admit kaname has been jealous big times of zero so he agreed and took her away.) but it shows that he's open to alternate plans and pretty confident that he could handle it.

When he chose to "die", it simply was because he wanted to die.he didn't find a reason to stay after realizing his mistake has made Yuki unhappy. i feel like he hated himself for taking away yuki cross's free and peaceful life. it would be absurd to say kaname didn't know there's other solution since he himself is the one initiating the research that aido resumed. but how long until the research was concluded? he didn't want to lock yuki away for another hundreds of year which equals to her unhappiness. he didn't believe yuki couldnt find happiness in that secluded lifestyle. even when yuki told him otherwise. Somehow, Kaname believes that the benchmark of her happiness is the lifestyle she had in the academy. probably because nothing has changed in her except that she's a vampire now. if only he knew sooner, he could see yuki as mom, and that she could adjust her lifestyle and move closer to her roots as yuki kuran. and he will be willing to change his mind because his child needs him, because he himself said that he finds the joy in being needed.

#ask #vk #eternal yume #just my thoughts

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pbelfz · 4 years ago

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His | 10 |

Pairing: Yandere Bakugou x Reader Chapter Title: Shameless Pig Chapter 9 | Chapter 11 Story Masterlist Summary: You're a petty villain, and your new villain-career is forced to an immediate halt when none other than Ground Zero captures you. He's convinced that you're in need of his help to change your tainted lifestyle, and you're not going to tell him otherwise. WARNINGS: RAPE/NON-CON, NSFW, MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING

Things were weird after that.

(Y/n) couldn’t tell if she was angrier at Katsuki or more disgusted with herself. But either way, he began to look at her differently. She would still feel the light, accidental touches on her skin much after the contact ended, and his gazes seemed to linger on her for just a second too long at times. Sometimes, his stares felt rather expectant, like he was trying to communicate to her that he wanted to be sucked off, and (Y/n) was supposed to drop down on her knees and give it to him without a fight.

But, it'd been a few weeks since that incident, and he hasn’t demanded her to do it again. Knowing him, he’s probably waiting for her to do it without being asked. Almost to prove that she’s been trained properly. But, things have been oddly calm. (Y/n) had in the back of her mind that she was working towards her promised job opportunity; odd, considering Katsuki’s version of ‘rehabilitation’ wasn’t exactly… Not working.

(Y/n) had built up an array of rewards for behaving over the months, but one in particular that she’d been choosing a lot lately was movie night. Their deal was if (Y/n) didn’t throw a total of three temper tantrums during the week, she’d be able to stay up late on Friday and watch any movie of her choosing. She had only thrown two ‘tantrums’ this week (by Katsuki’s standards), so she was currently laying, relaxing on the couch, swiping through movies on Netflix. Katsuki was generous enough to allow her to physically pick her own movie with no supervision; apparently, he trusted her enough to do that. She’d considered using the remote to hit him upside the head a few times and make a run for it, but then her movie privileges would be revoked, and she didn’t really want that. He would catch her, it was inevitable. He made it very clear that he would always catch her. The act would essentially result in more negatives than positives: the positive would be Katsuki would get hurt, but on the flip-side, no more movies, and she’d undoubtedly face whatever punishment Katsuki felt like dealing out at the time. Katsuki made sure that (Y/n) was getting so many rewards that acting out just wasn’t worth it anymore.

She had mostly recovered from her injuries now. Though, Katsuki told her that her knee would never be fully healed. He had said so with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but (Y/n) knew he was right. Knee injuries were extremely difficult to mend, and when someone messes up their knee, it almost always affects the person for the rest of their life. (Y/n) went grim at the thought, her glance shifting between her leg and the television. She then checked the clock. Katsuki should be joining her soon.

Katsuki would stay up with her during movie nights, if he could. He was normally exhausted by the time he got home and ready to crash on the first surface he landed on, but sometimes he managed to stay awake through half of the movie. (Y/n) found herself constantly trying to wake him up around the climax, ‘so he didn’t miss the best part,’ and Katsuki would try to watch the screen through lidded eyes, humming in response. He wouldn’t get upset at her for waking him during these times. It was her reward, she earned this. He didn’t want to spoil it. Times like this made (Y/n) forget the dynamic they had. Though, the way she felt compelled to wake Katsuki up and tell him it was bedtime after the movie was over always made her remember. Her, a grown woman, telling a grown man that it was time for her to go to bed? (Y/n) felt herself getting trapped further and further in this lifestyle each time she committed to the act.

Tonight, they were watching a horror movie. Some cheesy film from the 80s, but still a classic. Katsuki came home a little later than usual (his work hours aren’t exact), so they were running behind schedule. (Y/n) wasn’t concerned about staying up later than normal, but she was somewhat anxious about how Katsuki would fare. She eyed him as she laid on the couch; he was doing his normal routine of checking everything around the house, making sure everything is in its place. He wasn’t smiling. (Y/n) doesn’t think she’s seen him smile out a joy once.

Smiles weren’t the way you could tell if Katsuki was in a good mood, though. Even though he was frowning, he seemed to carry himself lightly. He was being quiet, but not the threatening kind of quiet. The kind of quiet he is when he’s cleaning. He’s been pretty docile recently, but (Y/n) knew not to get too comfortable. That could change in a matter of seconds at the smallest thing, or even nothing at all.

He was getting rather… Comfortable, though, with his touches. Ever since… That, (Y/n) got the feeling he was trying to coax her into more liberal affairs. He was a man, after all, and men were simple; ‘if I got her to do this, then I can get her to do anything else.’ Perhaps he was right, because if (Y/n) were to refuse, who knows what he’ll do to her. Her face twisted up at the thought, and she pulled her gaze away from Katsuki and back to the television.

“Katsuki, I’m gonna start the movie.”

“’s fine. Be there in a minute.”

A small smile graced (Y/n)’s lips. She liked when he was like this. They could easily be mistaken as a normal couple. Maybe that’s what she wanted. She heard Katsuki’s phone vibrate in the kitchen.

“Goddammit!”

Hearing Katsuki curse to himself was nothing new, but it still caused tension to pass through (Y/n)’s veins, and she carefully eyed him as he trudged back over to the kitchen island. He picked up his phone and looked at the screen before scoffing and tossing it back carelessly on the countertop. For some reason… (Y/n) felt jealous? No, curious. Just curious.

“Who was that?” (Y/n) called, like she had any business asking. Katsuki shot her a look, honestly surprised that she asked. He gave a sly smile.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed at the comment, and Katsuki waited a bit before actually giving a real answer.

“Fuckin’ Kirishima.”

(Y/n) deflated with some odd sort of relief, listening to Katsuki explain. “He keeps reminding me of the annual Hero Reunion coming up.”

“Can I come?” (Y/n) asked without thinking. Katsuki looked at her like she was dumb.

“Uhh, no? It’s the annual Hero Reunion, stupid villain,” his mocking tone was ever present, and though she knew it was the normal way he communicated, (Y/n) still found herself to be offended by his attitude. She bit her lip and held in its quiver as she turned back to face the screen, pretending like her feelings weren’t hurt. Besides, the movie had already started. She wasn’t going to press the matter anymore with Katsuki; no means no with him. Katsuki grimaced as he continued checking various places around the penthouse, making sure everything was spotless. He was upset that she would even ask that. Why was she suddenly so needy? First, she wants a job, now she wants to come to an event?

“Did your period finish?” Katsuki suddenly asked. (Y/n) cringed. He really had a way of being so blunt about the random things that popped into his head. She hated it at times.

“I-I’m on my last day… Why?” She shifted on the couch to look over at him in the kitchen. Katsuki shook his head, washing his hands in the sink with his back to (Y/n).

“You get fuckin’ irritating on the end of it.”

(Y/n) resumed her laying position on the couch, focusing back on the movie with an ugly frown that Katsuki couldn’t see. He’s just trying to start a fight, don’t let him see that you’re upset. This is supposed to be a good night.

Katsuki noticed how she didn’t respond and looked over his shoulder at her. Yeah, maybe he was looking for a fight. The house had been pretty tame for a few weeks, little to nothing getting escalated at all. But, it looked like (Y/n) wasn’t biting. He didn’t know why he felt so… Uncomfortable with the peaceful relationship. He’s never been in a quiet house before. Something in him just wanted to ruin it.

He sighed as he rested his lower back against the edge of the counter, looking at (Y/n) waiting for him on the couch. Maybe fate would just let him have this. This would be their fourth movie night in a row with no aggressions from either of them. Why was he trying to ruin this for them? His face darkened as his mind drifted to his mother and the emotional scars he left her. He was really becoming like her, wasn’t he?

“Katsuki, are you coming?”

(Y/n)’s voice pulled him out of his dejected thoughts, and he looked over to her again. She was smiling at him. It made his heart jump. He was smiling at him, even after he was a fucking dick to her.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Katsuki liked to slot himself behind (Y/n) on the couch, laying against the plush cushions and resting his head on his palm. Spooning (Y/n) seemed rather pervy, but he actually preferred the position because (Y/n) couldn’t see when he was falling asleep. Unless, of course, she looked behind her at the man.

“Katsuki! You’re missing the best part,” (Y/n) pouted, upset he was missing out on an essential slice of the plot. Katsuki hummed in response, his eyes still closed. He didn’t care. (Y/n) sighed and turned to face the television again. The hero’s arm was draped lazily around (Y/n)’s middle, hugging her back against him. When Katsuki was asleep, he liked to keep (Y/n) close to him, almost like he was making sure she was still there.

“Oooh—!” The woman on the screen emitted, the man mimicking the moan in his own throaty voice. (Y/n)’s lips tightened at the sight of the sex scene; it was uncomfortable watching these by herself, but adding Ground Zero to the equation definitely made it even worse. The music often got louder during these scenes as well as a way to emphasize the intimacy, but it usually woke Katsuki up, and he would be greeted with the image of people fucking on the screen the moment he opened his eyes. He would groan in feigned disgust, but (Y/n) didn’t miss how his grip on her waist tightened slightly, running his thumb softly against her skin and inching closer to her breast.

The movie ended much too soon, but (Y/n) liked to watch the credits roll because she knew she wouldn’t get another opportunity like this until next week. She felt Katsuki’s legs shift, and he removed his arm from her waist to stretch. He let out a small groan as a few of his joints cracked, and finally, he blinked his eyes open, watching the screen with (Y/n).

“You missed half of the movie.”

“Mmm.”

It was silent between them except for the ending song for the movie. Once the credits ended, and the screen went back to the Netflix home page, (Y/n) didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere between them, but there was something she wanted to talk to Katsuki about.

“Did you decide if I could get a job or not?” She asked quietly, making Katsuki open his eyes to their full size. He let out a dramatic sigh through his nose as he stretched, still laying behind (Y/n).

“‘Was hopin’ you’d forget,” he grumbled. How the ever-loving fuck could I forget a chance like that?

“I wouldn’t forget that.”

Katsuki was quiet as he thought.

“I’m still decidin’,” he finally said. (Y/n) hid her disappointment with a nod.

Katsuki was taking a while to ‘decide,’ if he even was at all. She knew it was stupid of her to get her hopes up for anything regarding him. She just thought that maybe once, just once, he would allow normalcy, let her slip out of his grasp just long enough that she could acquire an ordinary life. She didn’t want to fight his version of ‘rehabilitation’ anymore, not really. She just wanted her own version of normal. Perhaps, that was stupid of her, too.

It had been two weeks since she last asked him. Katsuki was off from work today, but like all of his days off, he spent it busying himself with other matters that weren’t (Y/n), ignoring her, making her question why she was even there if all she was good for was to give her the cold-shoulder, like he was angry with her. Each day was a game of guessing what mood Katsuki was going to be in, and very rarely was it a good one.

He was working out right now, using an ab wheel, focusing on his core muscles. (Y/n)’s surprised he doesn’t have an at-home gym or something; instead, he just has essential equipment. How humble.

Through the corner of his eye in the middle of a rep, he sees (Y/n) glaring at him from her place on the bed, and he meets her gaze, making (Y/n) look away quickly. He stares at her for a bit, wondering what the fuck she was upset about now, but he wasn’t too bothered to ask. He continued his set, indifferent.

Once she felt Katsuki’s eyes off of her, (Y/n) continued giving him a dirty look. He was sweaty and panting, and once he finished his set, he used his tank top to wipe his forehead. She once read on a Heroes Forum, where fangirls and boys would post theories about their favorite heroes, that Ground Zero’s sweat would smell sickly sweet, like caramel, but they were wrong. He smells musky and warm with pheromones, like every other man. Only the smoke from his quirk was faintly sweet, but you couldn’t tell. Not over the burning sensation you’d get in your nose.

(Y/n) glared at Katsuki for his entire workout, and he didn’t say anything about it until he was putting his equipment away in the closet.

“You think you’re gonna get anywhere looking at me like that?”

She felt like she hadn’t heard his voice in ages, and (Y/n) almost jumped at the sound. His back was to her as he made sure the dumbbells were safely tucked away in the corner of the cupboard.

“I want a job, Katsuki.”

Katsuki scoffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes as he closed the closet door, “You still haven’t let that go, huh?” He turned to face her, and (Y/n) quickly analyzed his facial expression to gauge how safe she currently was. He was scowling, but that was pretty normal.

“Your fuckin’ job is to sit at home and look pretty while I go to work out there,” he punctuated with a point to the window. “Why do you want to even work, anyway? I make more than enough to keep both of us comfortable, so what is it, huh?” He pressed, his face darkening as he stepped closer to the bed with crossed arms.

“I want to help out! I feel useless just moping around!” (Y/n) replied, louder than she meant to. It was hard not to get escalated with Katsuki. He tilted his head in response, narrowing his eyes.

“Help out with what? Nothing you—,” (Y/n) interrupted him.

“You come—,” Katsuki gritted his teeth.

“Do not interrupt me, (Y/n),” he enunciated, “I am so fucking sick of you interrupting me!” He held his hands up to stress his frustration, but it made (Y/n) flinch. Katsuki noticed immediately, but it didn’t calm him down. It just made him realize the situation. He shot (Y/n) an aggravated look before storming out of the bedroom, and (Y/n) soon heard the door to his office slam shut.

That’s what they’ve been doing as of recent. Whenever either of them feel like Katsuki is about to hit (Y/n), he locks himself in his office until he calms down. It’s worked for the most part. (Y/n) thought of it as a healthy step. But right now, she was just as pissed as Katsuki was.

She stomped out of the bedroom and looked down the hallway to see that the office door was indeed shut. She then went directly to the one place she knew she wasn’t allowed: the kitchen.

Drawing Katsuki out was her main goal. Perhaps her own toxic nature and background just wanted to rile him up even more; he was the one holding her captive, she deserved that much at least!

She yanked open the top cabinets, glaring at the neat dishes and cookware. She stood on the very tips of her toes and pulled each of them down, letting them all shatter onto the floor with a loud clash. She quickly moved onto the other cabinets, knowing Katsuki was probably already running to the scene at the sound. Glasses broken, plates smashed, bowls destroyed.

(Y/n) didn’t even get to the third cabinet before Katsuki appeared in the doorframe.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He bellowed, his eyes wide at the sight. He quickly made his way over to (Y/n), avoiding the pieces of broken dishes on the ground as he was barefoot. (Y/n) put her arms up to guard herself against him, but Katsuki just grabbed her wrists and brought them away from her face. “What the hell is this??” He asked once more, his deep voice so much closer now.

“I just want a job, Katsuki! I want to work!”

“And you think this is going to get you one?!” He asked her with his brows furrowed, switching her wrists to be in just one of his hands so he can use the other to gesture to the scene around them. (Y/n) was silent, quietly shameful of her outburst. She suddenly felt… Overwhelmed? She drew him out of his office, and now what? Did she even think that far? How long has she been with Katsuki? It’s been near five months, hasn’t it? Honestly, it’s just a surprise she hasn’t done this sooner.

“Hello??” Katsuki knelt down slightly so he could meet her height. “Do you just like it when I’m angry with you, is that it?!” (Y/n) shut her eyes tightly. She didn’t like him being right in her face like this, talking to her like a child. But, she did just throw a fit like one, didn’t she? This is what Katsuki calls her ‘tantrums.’ Her lip quivered as she looked away from Katsuki and at the broken glass on the floor. She didn’t want to see him. Her captor. That title seemed distant again. His name was Katsuki Bakugou. She felt so ashamed.

“Answer me, (Y/n)!” Katsuki banged a fist on the cabinet right above them, making (Y/n) jump. She let out a sob as she threw herself against his chest, making him look at her like she was crazy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-I don’t know what came over me,” she huffed out, squeezing tightly around Katsuki’s torso. “I-I just want to work and be useful to you,” she was outwardly crying now, and Katsuki was more confused than ever. He wasn’t going to comfort her just yet, so he just stood there and allowed her to cry on him. He didn’t want to reinforce whatever… This was. But, his mind had other ideas. He placed his hand on (Y/n)’s shoulder, causing her to look up at him.

“You can be useful to me.”

Taking advantage of (Y/n) in her vulnerable moments was just something Katsuki did.

(Y/n) found it in her to repeatedly tell herself that he didn’t mean to, that it wasn’t his fault he was like this. Ever since he had opened up to her a few weeks ago, she managed to always find an excuse for him: he had internalized mommy issues, his mistakes were caused by unresolved trauma, that they were subconscious, accidental even.

But, the way he was carrying her to their bedroom right now really did seem rather purposeful, and with each heavy step Katsuki took, (Y/n) felt her stomach dropping as she looked over his shoulder at the mess she made in the kitchen, its importance now severely diminishing.

A small voice in her head told her it was ridiculous of her to defend the actions of a 28-year-old man, but her stubborn nature ignored it. He wasn’t just anyone; he was Katsuki.

“Katsuki, I’m s-sorry for making such a mess,” she sputtered out, leaning back slightly to get a glimpse of his face, trying to read his expression, “I can clean it up!”

He ignored her words, looking straight ahead and opened the door to the bedroom. His lack of response made (Y/n) squirm in his arms, her nerves starting to get to her.

“Stop,” Katsuki muttered through his teeth at her wriggling, and (Y/n) listened uncontestedly, not wanting to make her situation any worse than it already was.

She was suddenly dropped onto their familiar plush mattress, the sheets neatly made up. One of (Y/n)’s chores was to make the bed every day when she wakes up after Katsuki leaves for work, but it soon turned into a habit. Noticing that his mood was always slightly better when he returned to a clean house, a lot of chores turned into habits.

But right now, those sheets were gripped in (Y/n)’s hands as she stared up at her captor with anxious eyes, her legs hanging off the end of the bed, awaiting her punishment for acting out. Katsuki glared down at her, but that was nothing out of the ordinary.

“You want a fucking job, right?”

(Y/n) didn’t know whether or not to nod, so she just looked back at him. It was hard to tell whether or not he was actually mad at her right now. The way Katsuki’s jaw was clenched gave her but the slightest hint, though.

In all honesty, something about (Y/n)’s sexual history had achingly been on Katsuki’s mind, and he just couldn’t get it out. Each time he looked at her, he just envisioned her laying on her back, giving her body out, pleasing another man that wasn’t him. His nose twitched in disgust at the image in his head. He was going to take the first step in solidifying his mark on her, erasing those who had her before, who touched her before.

“Shirt off,” he instructed.

(Y/n) stares before following his order without question, wanting to put any cushion on her punishment she could. Katsuki inhales at the sight of her chest, thankful that she didn’t wear a bra today. Plush mounds, nipples becoming erect at the feeling of cool air suddenly enveloping her upper body. She swallowed, trying to avoid Katsuki’s eyes, but his gaze was just so damn intense…

Her breasts weren’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but standing in front of her, looking down at her seeming so meek, it pleased him, and he felt his pants become tighter around his crotch.

“Push your tits together.”

The order was a strange one, and (Y/n) blinked in response before she did anything. She was hesitant this time, and Katsuki noticed, but he gave her his patience.

She did what she was told.

Her breast squeezed together in her hands, but (Y/n) looked away from him. She watched Katsuki’s rough hand slowly brush over hers, feeling one of her stiffened nipple under his thumb. He hummed in approval, like she was a prized pig on display. She didn’t want to see him. If she realized what was happening, then—!

“Look at me.”

She closed her eyes in a silent sigh for what was to come. She was going to refuse for however long she could, but Katsuki’s patience was not something to take for granted.

“I won’t ask twice.”

It seemed like time was still as (Y/n) slowly turned her head look up at Katsuki, meeting his red irises. The two maintained eye contact while Katsuki began to pull his sweatpants down.

“Play with your nipples.”

(Y/n) stared up at him defiantly, her breast still pressed together. She was determined to keep any amount of dignity she had left. Katsuki stepped out of his sweatpants and began to pull off his tank top.

“Don’t want to? That’s fine,” he said as he threw his shirt off. “‘Was tryin’ to make this more enjoyable for you.”

(Y/n) grimaced in disgust, but she quickly corrected it before Katsuki noticed. He was always quick to see things like that, though.

He placed his knee on the edge of the bed beside (Y/n), caging her in, his hard-on prominent and visible in his boxers, achingly pressing towards her face through the cotton. Before he could say anything else, (Y/n) began crawling backwards, away from him. Katsuki followed suit, moving toward her with each inch she moved away. Until her back hit the pillows.

“What are you doing, Katsuki?” (Y/n) whispered, overwhelmed by the sensation of Katsuki over top of her body, feeling the heat from his bare skin against hers. While the two have gotten more tolerable, she still was not comfortable with Katsuki getting this close to her, and her instincts were telling her a threat was near and to run.

Katsuki, leaning on one of his elbows, met her eyes once more before returning his gaze to (Y/n)’s sweatpants, his finger already hooked around the waistband. Were his irises always this red? It made (Y/n)’s stomach turn.

“What does it fuckin’ look like I’m doing? You do this for me, and I’ll agree to let you have a job,” he replied gruffly, pulling down (Y/n)’s bottoms in one swipe, leaving them around her ankles. (Y/n) gasped and attempted to close her legs, but Katsuki’s hands were quick, and he grabbed ahold of one, forcing it down onto the bed and adjusting himself so he knelt between her thighs. (Y/n) then reached down to try and pry Katsuki’s hard grip off of her, but her hands were just so small and weak in comparison, it was almost laughable. She struggled, but he easily grabbed both of her wrists and slammed them against the headboard, making her wince in pain. (Y/n) grit her teeth, her eyes looking around for a weakness; she resorted to trying to kick her way out, but with Katsuki still holding onto her leg and his knee pressing his weight down painfully on her other, she was only able to wriggle pathetically. Katsuki glared down at her, his grasp on her tight and unforgiving, and when she decided that he wasn’t going to let up, she whimpered, hoping he would take pity on her.

He squeezed her wrists. A threat. He would break them again if he needed to.

(Y/n) then stopped moving around, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes.

“Please Katsuki—!”

“I thought you wanted a fucking job?” Katsuki said, trying to hold in a smile as he removed his boxers, revealing his painful erection. Fucker got off on her fighting. “Just do this for me, and then you’ll get your job. You’ve been begging for weeks for one, don’t pussy out on me now,” he leaned down, (Y/n)’s wrists still in his hand, and placed a kiss on her cheek, making her gasp. She hasn’t been kissed like that since Hiroaki. She soon stopped whining and began shaking with fear instead.

His mouth moved down her neck, giving her sweet kisses and gentle bites, something that Katsuki Bakugou didn’t seem capable of, giving the illusion that he cared for her.

That’s just what he did with his hook-ups. It was a talent of his, really. Making women think they meant something to him. Who cares, what did it matter to him? Perhaps, that’s why he was actually angry right now: (Y/n) didn’t want this. He’s never been with a woman that didn’t want this.

(Y/n) long-since closed her eyes. She was picturing Hiroaki right now. It couldn’t be Katsuki. It just couldn’t be. She wouldn’t be able to get through it if it was him. But, as the body on top of hers moved, she felt his stubble tickling her collarbone, she heard his raspy, baritone voice so close to her ear, she would feel the callouses on his palm, his thick, rough fingers groping everywhere on her that he could reach, and she would be reminded again, and again, and again that this was indeed Katsuki. Closing her eyes wouldn’t take that away.

The hand that was grabbing at her ass left before suddenly coming back down in a loud smack! (Y/n) choked out a cry, and Katsuki chuckled into her neck, his breath making her squirm.

“You were pretty quiet, I wanna hear you. Got that? Open your eyes,” he muttered, his breath tickling her neck. (Y/n) did so reluctantly, staring straight up at the ceiling. Katsuki released her wrists, bringing his other hand down to grip her hips. He raised his upper body to look down at her as he began to grind himself against her still-clothed core, and (Y/n)’s eyes were wide as she inhaled sharply, trying to use her now-free hands to push Katsuki away from her.

To her surprise, Katsuki suddenly backs away and steps off the bed, leaving (Y/n) laying by herself, staring up at him in confusion. She sat up, watching as he stroked himself, pulling at his foreskin as he stared down at (Y/n) once more. He gestured with his free hand for her to remove her underwear.

“No.”

This seemed to excite him more than obedience would have. His lip twitched, and his strokes increased speed, and (Y/n) had to hold back her look of disgust.

“If you want a fucking job, you’ll do as I say, (Y/n).”

(Y/n)’s eyes glanced between Katsuki’s and his manhood, almost like she was toying with the idea. Katsuki landed the final blow.

“It’s the only way you’re ever going to get out of here,” he looked at her expectantly, like he knew that was going to push her over the edge, making her mull it over in that little head of hers. “I’m not letting you out of my fucking sight any other way, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) frowned, tears once again finding their way to the corner of her eyes. Was this really her only journey to freedom, or just normalcy? She didn’t want to have sex with Katsuki, that much was painfully clear.

“Katsuki, I don’t want—,” he interrupted her, his hand still wrapped around his cock.

“You have to. It is what you want, isn’t it? You get a job if you do this.”

(Y/n) let out a muffled sob, letting her gaze fall. Slowly, reluctantly, her hands trembled as her fingers hooked around the elastic band of her panties. She pushed them down her legs, revealing her sex to the cool air.

“Look at me,” Katsuki suddenly called. (Y/n) did as she was told with a harsh glare and teary eyes. He whistled in response. “That’s a mean face, hun.”

(Y/n) scoffed, kicking off her underwear and sweatpants, leaving herself totally bare in front of the hero.

Katsuki came onto the bed again, running a thumb against her nipple, appreciating the perkiness of her breasts. His other hand found its place between her legs, and while (Y/n)’s instinct was to close them, she held them open. She gasped when Katsuki swiped a finger along her cunt.

Katsuki pulled back his hand and examined it, a dissatisfied look on his face.

“You’re dry,” he stated.

No shit, I don’t fucking want this! And you haven’t even done any foreplay! (Y/n) thought as she looked up at him.

“Were you dry with Hiroaki, too?” Katsuki suddenly asked, and (Y/n) didn’t know if he was seriously asking that to be funny or not, but either way, she answered to spite him.

“No, I wasn’t.”

Katsuki looked down at her with wide eyes which quickly turned into a deep glare, his furrowed brows causing creases on the bridge of his nose.

“I was gonna warm you up first, but I guess you don’t deserve that. Spread your legs,” he knelt himself at the edge of the bed, fisting his cock.

(Y/n) was too slow adjusting, so Katsuki yanked her legs open for her, situating himself between them. (Y/n) looked at him with wide eyes as he lined himself up with her cunt, and she began to try to wriggle away, but Katsuki easily pushed her hips down with one hand, forcing her to stay put. (Y/n) grit her teeth, her hands latching onto his arms and trying to scratch him with her short nails to get him to back away from her, but as a seasoned Pro-Hero, he faced much worse than a woman’s scratch.

“N-No—!” (Y/n)’s mouth fell open in a silent, choking sputter as Katsuki finally thrusted all the way into her. It was a tight fit due to her dry walls, but Katsuki let out a content moan at the feeling of the squeeze around his cock. (Y/n)’s grip on his arms tightened due to the pain, her nails digging into the meat of his muscles.

She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to focus on breathing, almost like she was giving birth. The pain was unbearable, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was bleeding. She felt Katsuki’s hand on her back, guiding her to lay back down fully.

“Shh, it’ll feel good soon, baby,” he cooed. Baby? He’s never called her that before. She couldn’t take much time to contemplate it, too focused on the pain in her nether region, but she did as she was coaxed and laid on her back, her eyes squeezing out tears. Katsuki waited, his cock fully sheathed inside of her, looking down as he knelt between her legs.

When her whimpers were few and far in between, Katsuki tested the waters by pulling his hips out slightly, but (Y/n)’s pained face made him stop once more. He waited again, (Y/n) practically cockwarming him.

After several minutes, Katsuki decided he was just going to start moving. He pulled himself out slowly, watching (Y/n)’s face, before pushing himself back in gently. This was the pattern for a while, but Katsuki found pleasure in watching how stretched out (Y/n)’s hole was each time he pulled all of the way out. Stretched out in the shape of him.

With each thrust, the wetter she was, coating Katsuki’s cock in her slick. His thrusts picked up the pace, and he found the way she winced each time his cock pounded her insides addicting. He wanted to see more of that look. He didn’t like how she kept her eyes closed, though.

“Hey, look at me,” he commanded, his voice louder than he meant to. (Y/n) peeked her eyes open, staring him right in the face. Katsuki groaned.

“Hold your legs,” he suddenly told her. (Y/n) didn’t exactly know what he meant at first, but she quickly caught on, pulling her legs up to her chest to reveal her entire cunt to Katsuki.

“God, that’s fucking sexy,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of her throbbing pussy, looking at how it glistened with her wetness. He slid his cock against her lips before plunging it back inside of her.

(Y/n) felt like she was going to vomit. She didn’t know who she was, doing something like this. This wasn’t her. Who was this? As much as she tried to leave her body, each harsh thrust brought her right back, and she found herself staring right up at Katsuki. He looks less angry during sex. He still looks angry, but his mouth hangs open as he lets out groans, and his cheeks are flushed all the way up to his ears. He’s not frowning. Is this what everyone else sees when they lay with him? Is this how they felt?

Katsuki suddenly pulled all of the way out of her, and (Y/n) gasped at the emptiness. She saw him come over to the side of her, jerking himself near her breasts. White spurted out from the tip of his cock and onto her chest, making her flinch. He stroked his cock to ride out his orgasm, panting.

(Y/n) laid, disgusted with herself, but so thankful it was over.

“Turn over,” Katsuki then said.

Her stomach dropped.

Katsuki went for about four or five more rounds. She lost count. (Y/n) found herself dissociating as she felt for the first time the true agony of a Pro-Hero’s stamina.

She feels his body hair brushing against her own skin with each of his thrusts, but she doesn’t recognize it; she hears the sound of wet skin slapping, but she pretends it’s someone else.

Katsuki was leaning back, holding (Y/n) against him, pressing her back to his chest as he repeatedly pulled her hips down to meet his roughly, his cock slamming against her tight walls. (Y/n)’s fingernails were dug into his thighs as she stared up at the ceiling with tears flowing down her face. His moans were so close to her ear, she leaned away from him as much as she could. Katsuki suddenly changed his angle, and he begins thrusting upward himself instead of pulling (Y/n)’s hips down, his glands hitting directly against her cervix. (Y/n) gasps and her mouth falls open.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? Look at me while I fuck you. Good girl. That’s my baby,” Katsuki mutters to her, praising her when she turns her head to see he’s so close. Her fingernails dig deeper into his thighs.

“No! N-No!” His thrusts make her words seem bumpy. Katsuki then slaps her face lightly — well, light for him — and grabs her by the hair, forcing her to look at him.

“No, you’re not allowed to tell me ‘no' right now, do you understand? Tell me you understand,” He says through gritted teeth, his thrusts never ending, making (Y/n)’s tits bounce. He doesn’t wait for an answer, but something told (Y/n) he wasn’t really looking for one. His motions pause, and he adjusts his legs to hold hers open all the way.

“Hold your legs open, baby, there you go,” he picks up the pace again, and (Y/n) is outwardly crying now.

“Katsuki—!” She sobbed.

Said man looks over her, but the sight threw him over the edge, and he suddenly stilled inside of her, releasing his seed and painting her walls white.

“Ah—! Fuck!” His grip on her tightened. (Y/n) felt her stomach churn at the sensation of Katsuki’s cum inside of her, dripping out of her cunt as he pulled himself out. He moves himself to be over top of (Y/n) once more, and he instantly sees her horrified and sickly expression. He tries to soothe her with a smile.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he brushed a thumb over her cheek, wiping away tears while even more fell. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, moving down swiftly to her neck. He stroked his already-hardening cock once more, and (Y/n) let out a sob.

“Katsuki, please no more,” she cried quietly.

“Shhh, sh. Just one more round,” he kissed her shoulder, “And then we can go to bed.” He pushed himself inside her, feeling his cum mixed with her juices on his cock.

Katsuki was finally satisfied. It had been a while since he last had sex. He was almost upset with (Y/n) for making him wait for so long. He had fixed the sheets, so they were clean and smooth, but it was a lazy attempt. He wore himself out (finally!), so he decided he would actually change the bed tomorrow. Right now, he wanted to cuddle, which was weird for him. He never wanted to do shit like that. But… (Y/n) was different. He wanted to be with her after sex, and his hormones were telling him it was time to nest. But, he watched with a concerned gaze as (Y/n)’s wobbly legs carried her slowly across the room.

“(Y/n),” he called, not in the mood to deal with this shit now. He wanted to go to bed.

She didn’t answer.

“Where are you going?”

She suddenly fell to the floor. Katsuki, shocked by the sight, quickly throws the blankets off of him and gets up out of the bed, making his way over to her. He would pick her up, but she seemed rather repulsed by him at the moment. He held out a hand to help her up, and she takes it, taking a moment to weakly stand back up.

“I need to use the bathroom,” is all she says.

Katsuki looks at her for a second before walking with her to the bathroom.

He leaned against the counter, listening to (Y/n) vomit and cry into the toilet, his sweatpants dangling lowly on his hips. She was disgusted. Disgusted with herself, disgusted with Katsuki, disgusted with this life that she was given, disgusted with the life that was taken away from her. By the man that’s in this very room with her. The one that just raped her. Maybe he pitied her right now. Does he know what he did? He’s a grown man, he has to have some level of a conscience.

(Y/n) glared up at him from the toilet bowl. He wasn’t looking at her right now. Perhaps to give her some form of privacy. She felt her stomach lurch, and she hurled once more into the ceramic. At some point Katsuki had left and came back with a glass of water and a rag. She didn’t take the water, pushing his hand away when he offered it. She didn’t want anything from him right now.

A/N: Happy Halloween :)

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #yandere bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere #mha #bnha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #HIS

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mademoisellehypergamy · 4 years ago

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I just broke up with my boyfriend of 1 year plus. He’s been emotionally distant and not willing to help me financially. I have my own apartment, I work 2 jobs and I’m almost done with school. He has a clothing brand, he has a job and he still lives at home with family. I don’t understand how he can mention potentially living together if whenever I bring up insecurities I have in the relationship he refuses to talk about it. For ex, he’s in the past made me unfollow men that I never had a romantic relationship with...but a woman that he’s followed for the longest whom which he has commented on her thirst traps before we were together and still liking her posts for “support” (she has a modeling gig) when we started dating really hurt me. She would still comment on his posts and he would like them but defend this by saying he like everyone’s comments. I still felt as though I didn’t know what truly happened between them and I don’t even know his history like he knows mine. He got so angry with me and told me that it is a double standard but there’s nothing he can do to help me with that or my insecurities because it’s societies fault for conditioning him? He was asking me to help him pay for a trip he has been planning for us after my graduation but I’ve only given him the minimum but I rather him pay for it since he does not have the financial responsibilities that I have. I’m sad because I feel undervalued in this relationship and I gave so many of my goods just for him to make me feel inadequate for any special treatment. I came across your page and I’ve gone off of all my social media. I want to cleanse almost of any dating and focus on my needs so I can feel more confident because I deserve to be fulfilled. How do I end this chapter and enter into this hypergamy lifestyle while taking my time to heal and see I deserve full care?

Oh honey. This is a mess. Even as I read this, I was in a constant state of confusion, so I cannot imagine how much worse your situation is in real life.

“How do I end this chapter and enter into this hypergamy lifestyle while taking my time to heal and see I deserve full care?”

If you are 100% ready to be committed to hypergamy and change your life, this is where you should begin:

- Stay broken up with the boyfriend. You cannot go back to him. He was a dusty. - Level up (mentally and physically). It’s good you have gotten off all social media because you need zero distractions while you transform. Your mindset was that of a pick-me. Work on looking good while gaining a high value mindset. Look up Sheraseven1 on Youtube if you haven’t. - You will no longer accept nonsense: - If a man isn’t doing better than you, then he cannot have you. - Either people treat you properly, or they will not have access to you. - In your case, taking a break from dating and focusing on your needs might be good since you need to level up mentally still. However, this break should not extend three months. If you are still “focusing on yourself” after 3 months, you are just making an excuse at that point. You must apply what you learn sooner rather than later.

Reading this was painful, sister. Don’t ever allow a man to disrespect you like this again. Good luck 💖

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boogiewrites · 4 years ago

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Never Break the Chain Pt. 4

Part 4 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary: Esme is left with the harsh reality of her feelings with Javi and what loving him means. Lead by her heart and her gut she leaps into action to try to secure her hopes of having a future with him. But in their line of work, things can take a turn for the worse in a second.

Warnings/Tags: Injury. Canon Typical Violence. Life or Death.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

To hold herself together in times of distress Esme had to fall apart from time to time when she was alone. Tonight was going to be one of those times. She secluded away in her small hideaway in the mountains. She had always enjoyed her own company, knowing the difference between being alone and being lonely, but the latter was heavy on her back as she sat red-eyed on the bed, looking out the plantation shuttered double doors in her bedroom.

Her mind couldn’t decide if talking to Javi had been a mistake or not. She felt every buried emotion in a rush that left her a sloppy, blotchy mess. There was no one around for kilometers to hear her, so she let it all out. The rosary she’d mentioned to Javi was occupying her hands as she bounced her legs, full of anxious energy.

Before, the consequences of knowing Javi were something she could deflect, although the coincidence of knowing a cop from over four thousand km away from her childhood would be a hard sell, she hadn’t worried drastically about it. The more intricate reality of how she felt about him was what she was wrestling with. The fact that she had seen him, touched him, talked to him were no longer what ifs’ or fantasies but hard facts. The fact she was struggling with most intensely was that she was still very much in love with him. Before he was a memory, a myth, a story to be told over drinks. He was now the man in the next town over, sharing her same sentiment in both love and life. They weren’t kids anymore, he’d been right about that. Which meant seeing their lives for what they were in the harsh light of day and not through rose-colored glasses. Where they had wanted to be was no longer a thing to strive for, it’d become a prison of their own making.

She didn’t know if it was her body getting worn or the years of repressed emotions that made her feel so damned exhausted. The thought of going back into the den of the same men that wanted her one love dead suddenly wasn’t as easy to sit with. There were real consequences now. For both of them.

Perhaps it was paranoia, but it’s kept her alive this long. She had her bug-out bag by the bed, rosary wrapped around her wrist, and slept with her shoes on. She rubbed the wooden beads like a worry stone; even though she hadn’t been sure what she believed in for many years. Especially not after the things she’d seen, or the things she’d done. There was a strange comfort knowing Javi had a similar sort of experience. Even if she wouldn’t have wished it on anyone. Maybe he would understand. Maybe he was just as tired as she was. Maybe… she had some hope for a future. She had to talk to him again. This time with a purpose, to ask him to leave with her instead of abandoning him again.

———

As she had following every breakdown, she’d dusted herself off and got back to it the next morning.

In a dress and heels that said, ‘Don't fucking question me.’ She walked into the stone-columned entryway in a powerful man's home. It was a nice morning, not a trace of her collapse the night before remained on her face. She sat poised, with understated jewels glinting in the sun. Yet, her favorite accessories were hidden in places the sun wouldn’t hit, those were her weapons.

She had been establishing herself to get to this client, networking, and performing feats to gain trust in a trust-less circle. Playing it cool, she kept her face set into a lovely neutral but curious. It was a grand promise of cash. She found herself in the right spot for the rule as old as time; supply and demand. If she could seize the articles that had been taken from their owners, she would be compensated with a bigger payday than she’d ever encountered. The sentimentality of the pieces, the danger in the retraction, and the previous failures of those that had come before her secured the pay to be something someone like her could not resist.

“They were in my family... generations ago… before their family decided to fuck over mine we were joined by marriage, then by blood. We have not been able to get them through legal or... other means. But you, Estelle, I believe you have a chance to be successful.”

It was flattering but she was already decided by her motives. Enough money to run. And far. Not to mention a comfortable life on the other side when she sold what she’d accumulated over the years and combined with her savings. She’d played it smart the last few years and pulled the plug on the extravagant lifestyle that had beckoned her to this sort of work in the first place. She saw it as a sign, a dazzling neon one directing her to do it. So with a smile and a handshake, she did.

These people she operated with were not the cartel, but that did not make them just as dangerous. They had their hands in every sort of money stream and political influence. They couldn’t go into this location she was to infiltrate guns blazing, they had to have more finesse and mystery. Which is why they hired out. No connections made for less chance of blowback and made it easier to deny the job was them. And by the time they had to worry about such things, she’d be long gone.

She was being personable, enjoying a cocktail by a sapphire-blue pool and eavesdropping on the conversations around her. While ignoring the guy trying to impress her that had perched next to her she was tuned in to the young man that had a two-way radio by the stone fence that enclosed the pool.

They spoke English from time to time which she found unusual. But if they were looking to not be understood it wasn’t the worst approach. The staff here wouldn’t be able to understand them. Most of the men presumably wouldn’t recognize it either. Esme however spoke fluent English. She was raised by a Mexican mother who pushed her to speak English to fit in in Texas. At home, she was one person, a fluent tongue, and outside she was the brown girl that was berated with “HABLA ENGLAISH?” By every white woman she ran into. It had saved her more than once; when she was younger and especially now.

“The pigs are out today.” A statement she knew wasn’t about the animal was caught.

“Pigs are out every day.”

“They think they’re up to something.”

Esme knew that the people that were being referred to were the drug runners. These mining types didn’t pay much mind to cops, they paid them off when they needed and they were mostly left alone. When you have the foresight to build a public image with legal means of income, it’s easier to hide the sketchy shit.

“The gringo is asking questions.”

One of the white boys must have been trying to gather intel in the force. It could be Javier's partner but she couldn’t know for sure.

“Boss? Do we need to let the boys in town know? Is there going to be anything we don’t want them getting mixed up in?”

He thinks for a moment, Esme seeing him out of the corner of her eye, a squint down the mountain and onto the sprawling city below. “Our boys are in the east today, yes?” a pause and a nod of acknowledgment. “Tell them to come home.”

With that order, her jaw tightens. Esme knew something was going to happen. These men might not be narco’s but they certainly knew them, and ordinarily, they would tip the other off to trouble. Business going as usual was best for all involved. Normally she’d head back to her hideaway, let it all play out. But she knew if there was some trap that Javi’s partner might be falling into, that meant trouble for Javi. She couldn’t stand by idly and wait with that knowledge.

She remained composed, finishing her drink before a schmoozy goodbye, a promise to catch up as soon as plans were made. She acted nonchalant until she was past all the checkpoints, she knew better than to act in any sort of rush. Her little cabana was tucked away out of sight from the road between the deeply nooked mountain homes of powerful men and the city. She tried calling into town, a risk she was willing to take while she scurried to change her clothes and add a gun to her ensemble. She asked for Pena first. When she was informed he was not there she asked for his partner, and the same answer found her. She hung up swiftly, heavily armed but light on information. She knew the east side of the city would be the smallest area she could narrow it down to. She hoped her mind didn’t fail her at calculating where to go.

On her motorbike she darted about the streets, eyes peeled, heading by Javi’s place and finding his car gone, and the oil spots now dry, in its wake. He hadn’t been home in a while. Was it the smartest idea to break into an officer’s apartment? No. But was she? Yes. Javi had always been a researcher, if they were going to be zeroing in on a place, he would’ve been to it already. He was an active learner, not passive. He’d never be satisfied with being told what to do, he had to get in and see, touch, taste, and smell for his own opinion to be formed. She took a quick loop around, finding nothing out of the ordinary and circling back to the front door. The place was nicer than she’d expected, it did smell like liquor and cigarettes but so did he off hours. A little mirror and a catch-all basket by the door on a small table was her target, and inside were matchbooks, places she’d watched him go before buried beneath but one she wasn’t as familiar with on top. A pool hall, which wasn’t Javier’s style, sat like a sore thumb. She took the hint, this must’ve been the place they were headed, or at least close to it. She pulled her hair back and looked at herself once in the mirror before a nod to reassure herself and once again she was back out among the busy streets.

She pulled up and parked by a small marketplace, a casual place to leave her bike while she set off on foot, eyes behind her glasses ready to pick up any little nuance. Sadly seeing a guy with an automatic rifle wasn’t automatically a tell for narco behavior, this part of town was rough, you had to defend yourself. The uptick in the number of guys sauntering in the streets with them did however raise a red flag. She took to the rooftops with light feet, sneaking about and hopping from ledge to tin roof, shimmying up pipes and broken walls to scan. Not many were out on their rooftops, making it easy for her to cover lots of space fast, but that was also a bad sign. Like before a natural disaster happens, the animals clear out. The sentiment was the same.

She found a nice place to camp out, shaded by the sun and out of sight of the street on a corner near the pool hall. She could hear the static of a two-way radio a few buildings over from time to time, each time it made her jolt and she was growing impatient. The only thing that kept her calm was that she hadn’t heard any gunshots, and even that was grasping at straws. She eyes a few streets down, higher-end vehicles in red and blue, one after another. This meant one of two things, narcos or cops. She leaves the safety of her cubbyhole and crawls about to find a way to move quickly. She wasn’t being the most stealthy, leaping from ledges, but she had to follow the cars. Her instincts had been right.

Men in and out of uniform pile out, talking quietly, moving swiftly. Now she had to worry about staying out of sight as she got closer. She saw men on the rooftops she hadn’t noticed before, with sights on their guns and she would bet itchy trigger fingers. The static of a distant radio blurts out, a hushed voice in Spanish says “They’re here. Moving into position.”

It was a trap. The situation made her stomach drop and her pulse quicken. She wanted to be close, to warn them… well, to warn Javi. She was about to insert herself into the narco’s game and that would put a huge target on her back. It would potentially ruin her chances of booking this career-ending job she’d landed. She pulls out her gun, switching the safety off, and lowering herself with burning thighs as she used all her slyness. She could get away with it if she was smart about it... and killed all the witnesses.

She knew between the choices of standing by and watching Javi die, or intervening and getting ousted, she could only live with herself in one of those situations. Better to go out fighting for someone she loved than to be a coward and die with regrets. She jumps ahead, closer to where they seemed to be funneling to, various bursts of static around her as she studies to keep a close eye on not coming across anyone lurking.

She sees that shiny, coiffed head of black hair she’d wanted to run her hands through just days before, the lean build and tight jeans wrapped up in a bulletproof vest. His head was on a swivel, she knew he could look after himself but wasn’t about to take chances. She finds a man on his stomach, gun through a small slot in the wall, and aimed in their direction. She takes her moment patiently, padding foot over foot closer and closer with her gun drawn and her knife at the ready in the other hand. He wore no identifying markings, he wasn’t one of them, he might’ve heard her if he was. He was too zeroed in, potentially coked up so she had to act discreetly. She paused until that coke nose of his itched, hand off the trigger for only a few seconds before she latched and covered his mouth, head back and stabbing in deep to keep him making any sounds. It’s not that she wanted to kill him, she just saw no other way for this interaction to go down.

From here she had a better vantage point and was trying hard to look away from Javi and keep her eyes on every alley and rooftop. She lines up her eye with the scope, seeing it was aimed right at the group, she notices a man across from her, just a slight bit of an angle, an accomplice she assumed. The group moved forward, inching closer to being in between the two guns' direct line of sight. There wasn’t even a need for the sights at this point, a spray could take most of them out in a few seconds. These were calculated kills.

“Dibs on the gringo.” a crackle over the radio in Spanish, then another, “Which? There’s so many.” a hiss of laughter and she hears it from the other side of a half wall. They must’ve had multiple men camped out, she knew they intended to kill as many as possible. She couldn’t scream out, she couldn’t shoot them, she had to find that millisecond between when they would shoot and let their position be known. “When they get to the cars. Wait. Then fire.”

“What if I don’t fuckin’ want to? I want to shoot this smug look off this mother fucker’s face.”

“We won’t get them all if you don’t wait.”

She had pieces of information and tried to see the whole picture. She believed in the car there was a remote bomb being held by one of these sicarios. It’d take a good piece of them out and render them blind. It was a plan that had worked many times, but this time she’d be happy to fuck up a well-laid plan.

“Get the white boy, he’s been snooping. I got the mustache. Asshole fucked my sister.” If this had been any other situation it would’ve made her laugh, or at least crack a smile. But now it gave her a target, a plan of action.

“Maybe if your sister wasn’t a whore.” one laughs then a hiss follows throughout the rooftops among the static.

“Fuck you, man. Shut up or I’ll make sure you get shot today too.”

She moved as quickly as she could, having to backtrack to not be seen and climb over the wall to sneak up on the boy who was claiming Javi as a prize. She hunched over him, taking a chance at being seen, but since she couldn’t make out the placements of any of the other voices, she took her chances. A tension-filled hush fell across the street, no one but the cops out now. She waited for the man to readjust his arm, a sure sign of pulling the trigger shortly. They were holding their breath for the bomb, and she was assuming it was the double-parked cars, waiting for the group to get between them and hit them from all angles.

He swallowed, then popped his neck, settling down, face away from the hole he aimed out of and she took only a second to make up her mind. She shot him in the head as he braced himself.

“TRAP!” she screamed with all the force she could manage, tasting blood as she hit the ground, the cops now on high alert to the rooftops, and the guns fired. She’d given them enough time to duck for cover, having to take out the gunfire from one side of the street herself. She heard the bullets whizzing by as she hunched and ran down to the street, an alleyway where Javi had huddled down a moment before she saw the men barrel down the stairs opposite them. They’d had the same idea. “JAVI!” she screams, gun out and trying to peak from behind a dumpster.

His eyes were wild for the second he met hers. Confusion is all that read on his face, unable to answer under the gunfire.

“FOLLOW ME!” she shouted, firing off rounds to cover him as she motioned him towards her.

“You wanna explain-?” He’s caught off by the bombs in the street going off, knocking him back.

“SHUT UP AND RUN!” she shouts, shoving him forward, “You’re surrounded. Head West!” it’s all they needed, him hitting the pavement as hard as he could and her grabbing him by the vest to jerk him the way she needed. She hoisted him up against walls, all while hearing the men shouting and the stray spray of bullets hitting the corners they’d just passed. She knew they weren’t concentrated west, the men would instinctively run east towards the station, towards the backup, but she knew better.

She raced ahead, a small blocked-off space high up is what she yanks him down into. They don’t speak for a moment, catching their breath and her pushing him down to look out to see if anyone had been able to keep up with them.

“Now can I ask a fucking question?!” he rasps out.

“I got wind of something going down in the east today. So I came. And you should be kissing my ass for saving yours!”

“We were about to-”

“About to get blown the fuck up. Whatever you thought that was, it was a trap.”

“How did you know?” his eyes narrowed at her accusingly.

“I know that look and no, I’m not working with the narcos. I overheard some cronies at my meeting this morning. I narrowed down the options, ran across town and scoped it out, took out two guys, and then...lit the keg and ran.”

He blinks rapidly in response, processing the information.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. They wanted to kill you and your partner pretty bad.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

“Apparently you fucked one of their sisters?”

"I stand by my response.”

She smiles at him, something he doesn’t expect. He doesn’t have time to react until a few stray bullets hit something near them causing them to hunker down again.

“You could’ve gotten killed you know.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“Not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.” she rolls her eyes.

“I’m serious.” he grabs her wrist. “I have to deal with you being with these other... assholes and not the ones I deal with. Don’t make me worry twice about you.”

“I’m a big girl. I can handle it. I promise. I wasn’t about to let you walk into an ambush.” she states defensively.

“I’ve made it out before.” he huffs defensively.

“You will until one day you won’t.” when she meets his eyes again, after seeing his soot-covered knuckles wrapped around her wrist, she adds “If I can keep your ungrateful ass around long enough to make up for all the shit I put you through I’m gonna do it.”

He looks her up and down, but not how he had countless times with women, but biding his time to figure out what about that statement he wanted to ask her first. “What do you want me around for if you’re not gonna be there?” It was direct and hurtful, but also a fair point.

She stops looking out and meets his dark eyes to hers, she looked almost offended. “I want to be around,” she says softly. “I just wasn’t sure how.”

“Stay with me. Stop running. I’ll keep you safe.” he moves his hand from her wrist to interlock his fingers into hers.

“Over 20 years and you still haven’t come up with anything else?” she jokes and squeezes his hand. “I did want to talk to you about it. About… us...” she spoke softly and paused, ears perked up to the movement outside.

“What do y-”

“Shh.” a quick and low serious squeeze of his hand. “Someone’s close.”

“Where the fuck are you Javi?” blares out over his radio on his chest. Not a second later, bullets are coming through the back of their hiding spot, scrambling to get out, despite her fighting him, he covers her.

“Rooftop. West.” is grunted out as he and Esme wrestle to be the one to shoot the perpetrator.

She hits his chest and then right in the head, falling in a slump before she notices Javi is no longer hovering and trying to keep her down. A quick turn, intaking the rest of the space, knowing more would be on their way soon, and whether they were cops or sicarios she couldn’t let them find her. In her rush she hasn’t noticed Javi on the ground, she sees his face for only a second, slightly confused before looking at up her the moment she sees his side and hands covered in blood.

“Oh fuck, Javi... no.” She spits out and immediately ducks over him

“S’not... good news sweetheart.” He gives her a smirk, one she’d seen a thousand times on a younger version of his face. She knew with that expression alone it was indeed not good.

She doesn’t get time to react, to even breathe before more shots make her go into survival mode. She covers him, dragging him to a nearby brick wall to at least be safe from one side while she covered the others.

“Can you watch behind me while I look at this?”

“Yeah.” A pause while he holds his gun out. “I can try.”

“Was that your partner on the radio?”

“Yeah should be here soon.”

“Let’s hope so.” She grits her teeth and can’t tell if the shot went straight through, which meant he would probably be okay if it hit in and was now embedded in his stomach. Either way, this wasn’t ideal, to say the least.

“There’s-“

Before he gets it out she’s turned and shooting more men trying to get on the roof, none having the foreign blonde hair and pale skin of his partner.

“You should get out of here... y’know. They’ll ask questions.”

“I’m not leaving you.” She applies pressure to his side and he lets his head fall back to the wall with a heavy breath.

“Now is a hell of a time to start.”

She gives him a hard brow but would normally laugh because he had a point. “I never... ugh.” She grunts in frustration, shooting another man a few rooftops over. “I never wanted to leave you.” She continues trying to figure out the best way to slow the bleeding down. “It's the last thing I wanted to do. You know that right?” She asks to receive no response.

She sees he’s lost consciousness. Now it was proving to be worse than she had hoped. Cursing under her breathe, fighting back tears, the burning making a splitting headache form in her forehead, she uses the only thing in sight she can, taking her shirt off and ripping it tie a makeshift tourniquet around him.

She hears a bark from a man that sounds almost familiar and a dead giveaway as a cop. His partner was almost there. “You’ll be fine Javi.” She whispers, not knowing if she believed it or if he could even hear her. She kisses his cheek and holds his head close for a moment. A few seconds of kissing his hair, trying to forge a deep memory from a rushed moment. Just in case.

“JAVI?!” She hears shouted.

“UP HERE!” she shouts, knowing she had to get away but wasn’t going to leave him until she had to. She was soon not given a choice when orders were barked at her on sight.

She used her savvy, knowing how to get away, even if it was a stretch. “He’s shot.” She says backing away with her hands up to the edge of the roof. “Murphy, please don’t let him die.” She begs as the man’s face softens for a moment, she recognized he must have understood who she was.

The man coming up behind him however didn’t. He fires off a shot, hitting her and forcing her to make an abrupt jump from the rooftop.

“SHIT!” Murphy barks again and shoves the other man’s gun to aim down at the ground. “Don’t shoot HER!” He shouts in the man’s face. “She was helping him! Can’t you see that?!” He runs to the edge, looking down and seeing nothing but a dumpster and a few drops of blood on the pavement. Javi had been right. She was good.

@jaegeeeeer @likedovesinthewnd @inkededucatednnerdy @biharryjames @ladamari68 @past-romantic @weliketomoveit @shikin83

#Javier Pena #Javier Pena Fanfic #javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena fan fic

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comeonthinkers · 4 years ago

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The Constant Struggle of Cuteness

I feel like, this morning, I need to talk about body image. Body image, and the constant barrage of conflicting messages around body image that I, as a midsize woman, receive and dissect every day.

First of all: midsize. Was this even a term five years ago? As “plus size” has become more ubiquitous and more accepted in the past decade, “fat” has been reclaimed, and “curvy” is suddenly more of a feeling than a descriptor, the terms I used to identify with as a teenager now, somehow, no longer apply to me anymore. I’m not sure what happened in the past decade; in high school I distinctly remember almost always being the largest woman in the room. Since then, whether it’s due to perception, self-confidence, age, awareness, or just... overall changes in the population, I now find myself distinctly in the middle.

Note: I’ve been a size 12-16 my entire post-adolescent life. For one brief stint after college I could fit into a size 10. But before and since, 14 has been the mainstay numeral in my wardrobe. My steady friend and most accurate guesstimate across brands as to what my body may fit.

14, despite being the most (so I’m told) “common” size amongst women, was for many years infamous for being the most left-out, in-between size in clothing stores. In juniors’ stores (marketed toward teens: your Charlotte Russe’s and Forever 21′s), 14 would translate to the non-existent XXL: with “XL” usually falling in the “12″ range. In Plus Size or Women’s stores, 14 is a 0X; 1X is most commonly measured around a “16″ size.

About 5 years ago I found a fashion youtuber who made a video decrying the variation of a size 12 across different brands. And I’ll agree: sizes vary a lot from brand to brand, despite there being a base similarity in most big brand stores. She, like me, found herself living in this dreaded size 12-14 fashion purgatory, this no-womans-land of sizes. And even here! The numbers can’t be trusted!

She called herself “midsize”. She looked a lot like me. And at last, I had a label I could consistently search and see body types that I could identify with. From what I can tell, midsize is the chosen moniker for fashion influencers sizes 8-16, with of course, varying body shapes and compositions. For example, many of the folks I follow on instagram that claim “midsize” wear a VERY different bra size from me- so to find “fashion inspiration” I can actually act upon from midsize influencers, I also have to bring in a few accounts that allow for more top-heavy-friendly designs.

Despite all of the overwhelming positivity and diversity now available to me as a midsize woman (for example, almost all plus-size brands now start at a size 10-12 (00X-0X), and most “regular” retail brands now extend to a XXL), I can’t help but go back to my first observation: I’m no longer the largest woman in the room. While I don’t consider myself particularly unhealthy, I also know I’m not passing any presidential fitness tests any time soon. I find it difficult to run for extended periods of time. My joint strength isn’t nearly what it should be to support my weight. While muscular, I have a lot of extraneous body fat that adds strain to my daily life, and all my body’s systems: skeletal, endocrine, muscular, cardiovascular. This isn’t good. I’ve worked for years to try to find ways to get stronger, lose weight, and improve my overall health- in fact, the difficulty I faced when trying to lose weight was what led me to discover that I have PCOS and a few hormonal hurdles to maintaining a healthy body weight.

But when I try to research how best to approach health and weight loss with PCOS, the studies are few and far between- and when available are fairly inconclusive and far from thorough. I’m left to follow MORE accounts of personal success stories, all of which are biased toward one product or another, one lifestyle brand or book tour, all of which are antithetical to every other product, book, or brand I’ve seen before.

On the one hand, I’m grateful to see more body types represented in the media. It IS helpful to my self-esteem to normalize the bodies of women both my size and larger than me (even if there’s still a prevalence of too-smooth skin and too-round belly buttons). But I also worry about how we tend to conflate feeling good about ourselves to being healthy. They aren’t the same. And we’re letting commercial forces tell us that it’s okay to be unhealthy even when attempting to BE healthy: mentally or physically.

Time to come clean here: for the past year, I’ve been experimenting on and off with a carnivore lifestyle, which, OBVIOUSLY, many people assume is super unhealthy, much like the stigma around Atkins in the early 2000′s. Honestly, it feels a lot like Atkins did back in the day: lots of bacon, burgers, steak, and eggs. Quite literally “zero-carb”, as opposed to just “low-carb”. While low-carb isn’t really new anymore, and many people can see carnivore as a logical step past the surprisingly universally accepted ketogenic diet, I was amazed to discover just how much the “science” of the trendier diets of the past decade (paleo, keto, whole-30) don’t match up to the scientific, accepted nutritional advice of the actual medical community.

Last year I started going to a weight-loss clinic at the behest of my OB-GYN in an attempt to get my PCOS and weight “under control”. I’m gonna spoil most of the rest of this rant by saying this was a pretty dumb idea for someone like me. This clinic was created around those with extreme weight issues, for whom psychological care and bariatric surgery are the most “effective” forms of treatment (again, according to the health care system that seems determined to sell it, but I’ll talk more about THAT another time). The nutritionist I met with gave me the same spiel I’d read time and time again from every weight-loss specialist book I’d bought, despite me relaying to her my decades-long struggle with traditional diets and fat-loss strategies. A ketogenic diet was never recommended to me, nor any kind of actual dietary changes to help with hormone balance/control: I was prescribed metformin (a drug for insulin resistance most commonly prescribed to type 2 diabetics) and told to eat a low-fat, high-fiber diet.

I didn’t lose any weight. My periods didn’t regulate. I just stopped gaining weight as fast... although I did eventually gain back the 12 pounds I’d lost from my first 2 months on carnivore.

The truth is, that treatment plan, that clinic... it doesn’t exist for someone who is trying to change their body chemistry. It might work for folks that are so obese that literally ANY form of mindful eating will help them lose 200 pounds. But let’s be real: if I lost 200 pounds, I’d weigh 6 pounds. I’m a tall, muscular woman with some fat that has tried all the recommended diets for fat loss. Through them all, I fight cravings and energy loss, mood swings, and all the symptoms that come with PCOS. The ONLY thing I’ve found in the past 10 years that actually helps with my PCOS?

Regular exercise, stress management, and a carnivore diet.

I’ll also point out that when I DID lose a considerable amount of weight after college (due to what I think was a combination of 1. getting enough sleep for once, 2. intermittent fasting, and 3. regular hiking), it was also easier for me to maintain my weight and many of my PCOS symptoms went away. It wasn’t until I switched to a HORMONAL BIRTH CONTROL method that I then gained back all of the weight I lost (and then some) and once again began fighting uncontrolled PCOS symptoms. They compounded on each other, and made it harder and harder to get back to any kind of “normal”.

So, I’m back on carnivore. In addition to more stable energy, noticeable reduction of PCOS symptoms, and slight weight loss, I also just... hurt a lot less on carnivore. Along this journey I’ve finally realized that I do in fact have a chronic pain problem. Whether it’s due to chronic inflammation, past injuries, or food sensitivities, I’m not really sure: but I know when I eat carnivore, my chronic pain all but goes away. Recently, I’ve been recovering from a back injury, so there was of course some pain associated with that (as well as a break from regular exercise, which I plan to get back to once I’m cleared by my chiropractor), but the daily body aches, numbness, and discomfort?

Gone.

I’ve got regular periods when I eat this way- like, ACTUALLY one a month like I’m supposed to have. My facial hair growth slows down, even thins out. My focus improves. I sleep better, and actually follow a normal circadian rhythm. What’s total bananas is that I’m not the only one who experiences this: MANY folks who’ve tried this way of eating report daily quality of life improvements.

I’m not going to say everyone should eat this way; I’m not even going to suggest that everyone with PCOS should eat this way. But I WOULD love to see some actual RESEARCH done on this way of eating- or even better research on a ketogenic diet! I’m so frustrated by the lack of medical research on nutrition, and in particular the lack of action to curb the universally-accepted-to-be-unhealthy nutrition standards in America. While I won’t say it’s hard to eat carnivore (cause like, all diets are hard), I have noticed over the years that NO ONE IN OUR COUNTRY IS HEALTHY anymore- except for those whose JOB it is to be healthy. And this isn’t a coincidence!! Almost all cultures that have adopted American corporatized food structures are chronically unhealthy, and much, much more fat than they used to be.

I agree that being fat isn’t always a personal failing, and I’m so, SO glad that more and more figures in our media diets are representing the diverse catalogue of body shapes and sizes reflected in our world. I’m happy that my future daughter won’t be fat-shamed the same way I was as a little girl, and that she likely won’t be told (like I was) that she’s too fat to be what she wants to be when she grows up, despite not actually being all that fat.

BUT. Fat representation is not the hill I want to literally die on. I’m not willing to throw my health, my comfort, my ability to be active, away for my “right” to eat ice cream every day. I’m sick of being marketed to constantly as a garbage disposal. I’m not just here to eat and diet and wear clothes.

I’m here to LIVE. I’m here to plant gardens and make art and take walks and enjoy the seasons. And I can’t do a lot of those things if I’m constantly sick and in pain. And it’s way harder to enjoy not being sick and not being in pain when all we know to do as a society when spending time together is... eat food.

What frustrates me is, I think so much of this really comes down to marketing, corporate profit-mongering, and the way our political system is set up to make laws for companies instead of people. I think capitalism is making us fat and unhealthy, to sell us sugar and diets and medicine and surgeries in an endless cycle of crap. I don’t really have much more to say on that, I don’t have sources, except like... well, look around you. Look at the system we have. Look at what we’re told to do to escape it. And look at how many forces are there to take us right back to the beginning of the roller coaster when we have a little success.

Side note/conspiracy theory time: I actually think liposuction might be a more safe and effective (literally EFFECTIVE not just safe) form of “weight loss surgery” in helping folks with actual, permanent weight loss. Hear me out: while I will fully admit I can’t remember where I read any of this (as I’ve read so many scores of information regarding health and weight loss over my lifetime), I seem to remember body fat working something like this: it’s really easy for your body to make new fat cells, but very difficult for your body to destroy them. So, when you gain fat, it first occurs by your body filling your fat cells with fat, until they can’t hold anymore, and then your body makes new fat cells, which makes it easier for your body to hold onto said fat. The best way to “reset” your body’s fat threshold is to literally destroy or remove the fat cells. And, I assume, if you adopt more healthy habits AFTER having liposuction, your body would be less likely to create more fat cells than it was when you lived an unhealthy lifestyle.

Bariatric surgery is incredibly invasive and dangerous, and almost always ends up reversed by bad habits and your body’s natural ability to STORE FAT AND STRETCH YOUR STOMACH. It’s a temporary solution, and often proves to be ineffective in the long term, and leads to many unfortunate complications over time, not to mention the recovery from that surgery is LONG and TOUGH.

But liposuction (the most COMMON FORM OF PLASTIC SURGERY, I’ll add), is the only “weight loss” procedure (despite not being labeled as such- it’s “cosmetic surgery” even though it most definitely WOULD result in weight loss, right?) that actually removes fat from your body. Literally takes the fat cells away so your body can’t fill them up again, without once again needing to create more.

But bariatric surgery is covered by insurance, and liposuction isn’t... despite the fact that removing weight and fat from the body would be a more instant and potentially effective cure for obesity and its underlying symptoms, and being a simpler procedure overall, as well as extremely common.

So like... why is being fat something poor people are forced to endure dangerous surgery and super long recoveries and lifetime habit changes to overcome, but rich people just get to have their fat vacuumed away? Sounds sus to me.

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cherrywineandmagic · 5 years ago

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Slow Motion - Part 3 - Harry Styles

Part 1 / Part 2

Series Summary: Harry Styles is tired and lacking inspiration. He decides to search for some in the local museums during his stay in Los Angeles and stumbles across an unexpected muse

“It’s nice to feel this small.”

He watched her as she leaned forward from the bench they sat on. Her hair had been tied up after a few wrestles with the wind. She had an ethereal sense to her as strands escaped to whisper against her cheeks. Her eyes were set on the city in front of them. A place she had called home, and one he had made a home out of. A city that was quite ugly in most parts and charming in others. Always busy, always alive.

“It’s easy to feel small when you’re surrounded by loads of people,” he replied as he leaned back. “I’m not sure if I actually like it.”

“Why’s that?” She turned his attention towards him, tucking her stray hair behind her ears.

“I think once you’ve felt small for a long time, you miss feeling seen.”

“On stage? Surrounded by thousands of people, and you don’t feel seen?” her eyebrow raised in questioning and he found the small movement amusing. She always had so many questions.

“It’s not quite like that,” he sighed and turned his head towards the view that held her attention just moments ago. “I’m seen in a very public way. Comes with the fame.”

“Oh, how tragic,” she replied playfully, earning an amused chuckle on his end. She smiled briefly before a dangerously calm tone set into her voice. “I get it. It’s one thing to be seen, and another to be known.”

Harry stared at her in silence. She spoke so freely, poetically even, without hesitance in her words. He had met many beautiful people in his life, many of them artists or people of unequivocal talents, but none had ever struck him as sincere as she did.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Is it time for you to go back home?”

“Tomorrow morning. First flight out,” he replied with a short nod. “Off to see my mum and sister on holiday.”

“Tell them I send my love,” she grinned, “although they won’t know who the hell I am.”

Harry laughed at the idea of telling his mother that a girl he had met in California was sending her love. It would undoubtedly end up with him being interrogated, especially by his sister. It wasn’t often that Harry mentioned anyone special in his life. His reservations about that were widely known, even in the public sphere.

She had certainly earned a spot in his heart with her intellect and humor. The late-night phone calls they shared weren’t so bad either.

“You know, even after all these weeks, I don’t know much about you,” he commented. He had given it more thought the night before and realized that while he knew all her likes, dislikes, hobbies and favorites, he still wasn’t sure what she actually did for a living. She claimed to be a writer but hadn’t shared any writing. Harry knew she had to have money of some sort to live where she did. He thought about running a google search, but his own reservations about privacy stopped him from doing so.

“You know what matters,” she replied softly, leaning against the bench and looking at him with tender eyes. “I’ve told you my dreams, my values-“

“You want to become a best selling author.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “maybe you’ll star in the movie when they turn my book into a big Oscar-worthy film.”

“Maybe.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll miss you.”

“Likewise, darling.”

——————————

“Harry?”

“Mmm?” he didn’t look up from the book in his hand. Fitzgerald always gave him an escape from the world around him, and he had lost his way in his words an hour ago.

“Are we ever gonna talk about the elephant in the room?”

He glanced up at his sister as his eyebrow shot up in questioning. A subtle look of confusion passed through his face as she stared back at him with a wicked grin.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know,” she smiled as she pushed his extended legs off the coffee table and passed in front of him, plopping herself down on the seat beside him, “the fact you’re in love with someone.”

“W-what?” He stumbled over the word as he sat up straighter.

“Harry, I know you. I know when you’re absolutely smitten. So come on, tell me about her. Or him, you know I’m supportive of either.”

Harry chuckled at Gemma. Of course, she had watched him like a hawk since he arrived, and she’d heard his voice through the walls early in the mornings and late at night. She was always the one to catch small details.

“She is from California,” he replied as he shut his book. Her eyes sparkled in excitement at the revelation. “And that’s all I’m willing to share right now.”

“Come on!”

“What’s going on, darlings?” Harry sighed when his mother entered the room.

“Harry’s got a new girlfriend and won’t tell me about her,” Gemma accused. His mother’s eyes widened in surprise before a bright smile overtook her gentle features.

“Love, is this true? You’ve met someone?”

He cleared his throat and stood, playfully pushing his sister deeper into the couch as he passed her. He stopped a few inches from his mother and nodded.

“She’s quite special, you’d like her. She’s not my girlfriend, though,” he kissed the top of his mom’s head before retreating stealthily towards his room, “goodnight.”

—————-

Harry blinked as his drapes were thrown open. The morning sun was a cruel alarm that Saturday, and he grumbled as he sat up in his bed- his tousled hair and tired eyes looking over at his sister.

“What’s going on?” he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. She tossed a magazine at him, hitting his bare chest and falling straight into his lap. On the cover was a picture of him and Y/N, sitting comfortably together on a bench that overlooked the greater Los Angeles. He didn’t think much of the cover until he read the headline. “Harry Styles dating California’s own millionaire philanthropist Y/N L/N.”

“She’s pretty,” Gemma commented with a small smile, “at least now I know.”

“Millionaire philanthropist?” Harry read out loud, the disbelief hidden in his voice from his exhaustion. He quickly skipped to the article and skimmed over the parts about being spotted out and about in L.A. Instead, he zeroed in on the parts about her.

It won’t come as a surprise to anyone who knows Styles or L/N. They share similar humanitarian views with a history of donations to multiple of the same non-profits. It is, however, surprising to see L/N out so openly. She usually prefers to lead a quiet life than flaunt her extravagant lifestyle of celebrity and socialite friends.

“Gem, can you give me some privacy? I have to make a call.”

His sister looked dumbfounded but complied, closing the door to the room behind her. He grabbed his phone and looked at the time. It would be late afternoon in California, and depending on her mood, Y/N may or may not have been awake. He didn’t think twice before pressing the call button.

“Hey Harry, I don’t have much time to talk, got some meetings and work stu-”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” he blurted out, interrupting her mid-sentence. He was met with silence on the other line, followed by a deep sigh.

“You saw the magazine.”

“You never mentioned you were a millionaire philanthropist,” he replied. “You claimed to be a writer.”

“I am a writer,” her voice shifted from passive to defensive, “why do you care if I’m rich? It doesn’t change who I am.”

“It does.”

“How?” she challenged, “you think differently of me now? You don’t want anything to do with me? Because if that’s why you called-”

“No, that’s not what I said,” he interrupted again, the frustration evident in his voice. “Just…” he trailed off as he tried to pinpoint where his anger was stemming from. “I just don’t like being deceived, that’s all.”

He felt conflicted. He knew money didn’t make someone, and he had his good share of it, but the fact she’d failed to mentioned it really bothered him.

“Harry, I haven’t deceived you. I know who I am, and I’ve shown you that.” she paused as she heard his defeated sigh. “Do you know who you are?”

Her question was met with silence.

#harry styles fic #harry styles #slow motion #hs #harry styles x reader #harry styles series

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sneksue · 4 years ago

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Official Post About Lifestyle Changes

The date is January 28, 2021.

I have not had chickens for a while. It will be 2 years in August. I have been meaning to write something here about all of it, but I either have not had time, or the willpower to go through with it. I was in grieving.

In June of 2019, I took a trip from my shared homestead in Mississippi to Colorado to do some long distance hiking. I left all of my animals in the care of my ex husband’s mother and her then boyfriend.

I trusted them to at least do the bare minimum in my animal’s basic care.

That didn’t happen. They failed night after night to close and lock the coop’s door. They wouldn’t change their water during the day and they did not collect eggs.

When I had service on my phone during the hike, I checked in with them to find out that because they had not closed or locked the coop door at night, several birds were “missing”, with more missing every day.

Instead of simply closing the door and providing a safe space for my dear, darling animals to sleep at night, they decided to buy a game camera to see what was happening to them at night.

Their reasoning had absolutely zero logic, and I was pretty pissed.

They found that raccoons were simply just waltzing into the coops and grabbing birds. The raccoons would drag them away into the woods and feast.

By the time our trip was almost over, all of my ducks were gone. There were only a few chickens left, and the guinea fowl were all intact due to roosting 50ft up in oak trees. My cat was also “missing”.

I was heartbroken, devastated. I had spent so much money, time, energy, and love to build this flock. I wanted to provide my “family” and myself with sustainable, renewable food in case of a natural disaster. No one seemed to value my efforts, or even care to see what my end goal was.

On top of grieving for the loss of my feathered babies, my then husband’s younger brother decided to GO OFF on me during our drive back to Mississippi. He claimed I was selfish, psychotic, uncaring, and manipulative. He screamed at me while we were all stuck in the car. He called me a bitch, he called me a liar, he called me a leech. I was stunned in silence. I had been struggling with my mental health for years, and had contemplated suicide more times than I could count. So, it is no surprise that while we were driving 70mph on the interstate, I seriously contemplated opening the car door and leaping out into traffic.

I turned to my husband, my partner, the love of my life, my support system, to back me up. Defend me. Tell his brother that he was wrong. My husband did nothing of the sort. He remained silent as the verbal barrage from his brother continued.

Everything clicked for me then. My mother in law was a complete nutcase, she blamed me for all of my husband’s shortcomings. She viewed me as a failure for not being the perfect housewife. She only saw me as a burden on her son’s happiness. My husband maintained an emotional distance from me for several years. He refused to be intimate towards me. He never showed an interest in me, my thoughts, my feelings. He never stood up for me or was proud to show me off. He never commended my strengths and triumphs, he only pointed out what he viewed were my failures. My brother in law was more of a nutcase than his mother, physically abusing his dog and neglecting his cat, leeching off of his mother and getting handouts at every possible opportunity, spending his days smoking hundreds of dollars of marijuana, drinking booze, playing videogames.

I had no social life, I wasn’t allowed to have a social life.

I had no friends I could hang out with, all of my friends were online.

No matter how much I did for these people and how much I excelled at everything I did, nothing was ever enough. I was never enough.

No wonder I struggled with mental health, eh?

I came to this realization instantaneously, and demanded to be dropped off at my dad’s house in Westminster, CO.

I had none of my personal belongings besides my hiking and camping stuff. I didn’t care, I just had to get away from these toxic monsters.

My husband and I loosely decided that this would be a “break” for our relationship, and that he would go back to MS to work and save up to move here with me. I agreed and I began working and saving up myself.

We both knew he was never going to come here. We were never going to be together again.

We remained in close contact for a few months after the separation. But the contact and our conversations became fewer and less substantial.

One night, as I was walking home from work, I called and told him that I thought we should break up. He admitted to me that he had removed his wedding ring over three weeks prior. I was understandably hurt by that, but I did understand.

He also informed me that all of the birds were gone or dead except for a couple roosters.

I was more devastated by the loss of my birds than the loss of my marriage. If that doesn’t tell you enough, I don’t know what does!!

My cat never returned.

I asked him if we could keep in contact, and he told me he did not want to talk to me or hear from me for several years. I was once again hurt by this, but with his own mental health issues, I again, understood. He did say he can see us being friends in the future, but now that its been some time, I don’t want to be friends with him. I want the best for him, but I can’t bring myself to expose my mentality to his toxicity and negativity.

I asked again and again, over a period of months, for him to return my belongings. He kept putting it off. I told him I was going to drive down there myself and gather everything i could and dispose of the rest.

He agreed, initially, then banned me from coming only after I requested the time off from work and had friends to accompany me on the journey, He promised he’d send all my stuff in several shipments after he sold my car. I told him he could keep the profit from the sale of my car and use it to send me my stuff.

He ended up sending me ONE box of my stuff. And most of it wasn’t even mine. I was appalled and disgusted that he’d be so careless and inconsiderate.

I sent him messages and requested SPECIFIC items after I received the first box. I got no reply, and no more packages to this day have been sent.

He and his family stole my property, killed my pets, and broke my heart.

Thieves, liars, and extremists, the lot of them.

I grieve daily for the loss of my animals and the torture I was put through for nearly 6 years.

All of that out of the way, let me move on to tell you what this blog will now feature.

I have obviously had a change in lifestyle. I no longer live on homesteading land, I live in a roomy two bedroom apartment with my AMAZING fiance.

My love of chickens, I discovered, was a love for reptiles in general. Cuz birds are reptiles and all that jazz.

When I met my fiance, I was already blown away by his attitude, confidence, and view on life right off the bat! He inspired me, made me want to be better to myself.

Meeting him felt weird, at first. It felt weird because I was waiting for this amazing person to... have a catch. There’s gotta be a red flag somewhere. And if there isn’t... he is probably a psychopath who will eventually turn on me and kill me. No one is that... good.

So I thought to myself, “Welp, gotta find out. I’ll go to his house!”

He had a couple little snakes in his room which I demanded to play with. He happily got them out and I was like “THAT’S the catch? Nah, this just convinces me this guy is... my kind of guy.”

I’ve had a love of snakes since early childhood. Not an interest of passion, but I truly loved interacting with and watching them. I’ve never had an innate fear of any insect, (exclude honeybee, because I didn’t know better at 6 years old), or animal. I love them all and everything they do to contribute. All they experience.

I used to catch wild garter snakes and rat snakes in nets, pet them, show them to my mother occasionally to freak her out, and release them. Then watch them.

There were a mating pair of Oteekee Corn Snakes in my HS yard. Every summer we’d see them, out and about hunting, hiding, climbing... growing. They were bright red and jet black with specks of yellow. I could tell these guys were pretty smart and maybe there was more to snakes than I really thought about ever.

So, being sold on this amazing guy, we up and moved in together. Nice. My paycheck kept going up and up. I was saving a ton. I wanted a car and an apartment as soon as possible.

I got bonus after bonus for working hard at my job and everyone hitting labor targets.

We got a place. Nice.

Both got steady jobs. Nice.

There’s uh, a lot of room in this new place. Nice.

Hey it’s my birthday and I can get myself a snake. I have more than enough for supplies and the animal itself.

I browsed on morphmarket for what felt like ages....

I had no idea that there were.... so many complicated genetics with ball pythons. I was highly interested, because if you know me, you know I’m interested in genetics and selective breeding.

I found there were THOUSANDS of genetic combinations, each with unique names. It was like alien code. The animals were beautiful but I had no idea what I was really looking at.

One night while going to our local reptile store to get feeder rats, I was looking around at all the glass window babies, as I usually do.

I made my way around the scorpions, tarantulas, cave scorpions, frogs, lizards, the store’s companion burmese python, and my eyes landed on a little... adorable puppy-eyed baby ball python. The signage stated that it was a Puma. Seemed simple enough. Easy name to remember. I looked into the glass at the lil noodle, and talked all baby talk and shit. The sweet little thing came right up to scope at me, then yawned.

I called an employee over and said I’d like to handle this animal right here. The employee obliged and I fell in love. Sexed as male. Easy buy.

I cried on the way home, It was amazing. I have one picture on here of him a few days after I got him. His name is Mallow, and he is bigger now, but still just as sweet.

So yeah. It went from there. Now, including the boa and ball python that are my fiance’s, and Mallow, we have added 3 more to our family. We are done now, as these animals may live a loooooong time. And they require space and attention just like any other pet. They’re not expensive, and they’re low maintenance care is nearly brainless if you set it up right. They’re statistically and actually safer than dogs or cats, and are absolutely therapeutic and entertaining.

This blog will from this day forward be dedicated to snake content, reptile content, and a lot more fun, actually good pictures. I will also share genetic related stuff I find relevant.

Not having a shitty phone camera is pretty great, tbh.

TLDR: No more homestead. Ex is evil (yeah yeah), New place new animal new me. SNAKES! SNAKES!!!! SNAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEESSSSS!

I know this post is just for me but whatever, if I make myself laugh. Cool. G’night.

#blog change #lifestyle change #reptile #personal #judge #don't read me #please don't read this #like its awful #seriously #my past #my present #i am good #all is well #i'm growing #chickens to reptiles #homestead to apartment

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aroacemerlinfan · 5 years ago

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Tldr: me word vomiting lots of random emotions and thoughts I’ve been having about my life. Would put under a read more but tumblr mobile is shite. Ignore if you wanna, I just needed to throw this into the world cos I’ve been so socially distant from everyone in my life that I haven’t spoken to anyone about this, and I’m not sure I would’ve even if I actually replied to my friends more than once in a blue moon

...............................................................

Me: honestly convinced I’m never gonna find romantic love cos I’m ace and probably aro - at the very least I’ve never been attracted to/interested in someone enough to want to date them and the whole being sexually attracted to someone and looking a people and wanting to have sex with them sounds fake and doesn’t resonate with me at all.

Me: is theoretically a very sex favourable and positive person but the idea of sex with someone I’m not dating is just so weird to me but damn do I wish there was someone who knew me and my likes and dislikes to be intimate with

Me: is super duper disappointed to not experience love/sex but is simultaneously doing literally zero to create opportunities cos I just don’t speak to anyone outside of my family and colleagues, and the one single guy I had any interest in at work is gay and has left.

Me: reads fanfic constantly and I’m now wondering whether it is beneficial in distracting me from my loneliness or enhancing it. I think both. I think I need a break from fanfic at the very least but honestly don’t know what I’d do without it cos it’s been my go to hobby for so many years and I legit read for 30+ hours a week and that’s soo much time to fill???

Me: really doesn’t want to have kids in the future cos I don’t understand kids in the slightest and pregnancy is terrifying and I still feel like a child myself and I know this is something which may change in the future but I don’t think so and my mum bringing up wanting grandkids on a near weekly basis recently is kinda starting to put me on edge cos I’m already starting to feel like a disappointment cos I’m an only child and I’m the only opportunity for grandkids - which I know is ridiculous but it how I feel and that’s valid

Me: with my grandad in hospital (he’s gonna be fine, he would be out of hospital if he actually did what the doctors and nurses said about doing exercises etc) it has made me think about the family I do have which is: my mum, my dad, my grandad and my uncle. That’s it. I have two other uncles and several cousins etc who I see maybe once a year but they don’t really count.

Me: has a handful of really amazing friends who I haven’t spoken to in months and I don’t even really know why. They’ve all messaged me and I just havent replied. I’m not trying to actively push them away like I did with a friend in the past who I just felt drained with in the end whenever we interacted, but honestly every time I get a message I just feel exhausted at the prospect of ongoing social interaction. And it’s silly cos I know exactly the kind of thing I could message people about to start a conversation, like I could talk to Emily about finally watching Hamilton and how it’s been two weeks and I’m still listening to song on repeat and how she was right about how good it is and yet it’s been a week and a half since I’ve thought about sending that message and yet I haven’t and just uggghhhh @me

Me: is horrified by the idea of being alone for life romantically, and knowing that between my ever dwindling family and me not talking to my friends that being alone if more likely that I ever want to think about

Me: wants to live a happy life of my own but don’t know how to. I want to move out but can’t afford to on my own and it’s super impractical when I can live with my parents for £20 per week for food. But god forbid if anything happens to one of my parents I’m gonna be stuck at home forever cos I have so little family and my parents have literally no one else to turn to.

Me: wants to do a masters in gender and sexuality studies writing about representations of asexuality on screen but I know I could write and entire book which would be great for phd level but I missed the deadline to apply cos June was crazy and all I’ve been doing recently is working 6 days a week then working on my car for a day before working another 6 days. And even if I did a masters and maybe eventually a phd I have no idea what I’d actually do with it? I have so little ambition for anything right now and the future is just a void of mystery in which I don’t even know what I want???

Me: is starting to think I might actually be kinda depressed. I’ve thought it on and off for longer than I’ll ever admit but I’d do quizzes online and they’d say I wasn’t so I didn’t really think too much more about it (and yes I know an online quiz is shit and means nothing but there’s no one I would want to talk to about it cos I feel like I have to be strong for the people around me and shit but yeah). I know I’m not happy, but that doesn’t necessarily equal depressed. All I know is I’m uninspired and I feel kinda empty. Doing stuff I do enjoy, if I actually do it, just makes me feel tired half the time so I end up trying to nap instead but then I don’t sleep great either, waking up in the night or when my dad is getting ready for work so I very rarely get a solid 8 hours of sleep. I’m irritable a lot too...

Me: even if I am depressed what does it matter? Like it does matter ofc, but my mum is on media for depression and it’s taking her weeks to get an appointment with the doctor to try and get a different dosage. I’m not a danger to myself or others, I’m unhappy, but who isn’t with COVID going on and there are people who need mental health services more than me. Which is really hypocritical of me to say cos I’ve told my best friend so many times that trauma and mental health etc aren’t competitions of who has it worse but it’s the truth. Also my mum and colleagues access the only mental health resources in town and I do not want to deal with interactions with people I know whilst trying to improve my mental health.

Me: I don’t know how many times I’ve said it in posts like this but something needs to change. I was set on a good course at the start of the year. I was getting out, socialising, doing new things, inspired to cook, learn to new music and change my lifestyle, and then COVID happened and since all of that has slowly drained away and I need to find a change to revitalise that. I’d hoped getting back to having driving lessons and working on my car would be a start, and to be fair it’s been less than two week since I restarted doing that, so maybe I can find a new spark of inspiration still. Within a couple of months I will pass my driving test. Hopefully it won’t take much longer than that to get my car finished and on the road (hopefully it’ll take two weeks to finish putting the rear end back together so we can finally get my car back on four wheels, then it’s just lots of little jobs which hopefully won’t take too long). The weather is supposed to be decent this week so I might work up the effort to go for a walk down the fields which always seems to relax me a little. And the cinema reopens at the end of the month so I’d finally have an excuse to get out of the house (I know COVID is not over and things should not be going back to normal any time soon, but I need to do something other than go work for 4 hours everyday and spend 90% of my time at home and most of that time in bed because I have nowhere else to go). I don’t know what else I can be hopeful for in the coming weeks but that’s a start and just listing them out here has made me feel a little better so.

I keep thinking about Patrick from Schitt s Creek, leaving his hometown to escape a life which didn’t fit him and finding everything he needed in a tiny town in rural Canada, and wishing I could do the same, but I know I’d just end up even more alone because I am not a social person in the slightest and don’t kno how to be despite knowing that me making changes is the only way to improve myself.

And then a line from Hamilton about death is easy, living is harder, and I want to make it abundantly clear that I do not in any way, shape or form want to die, but living is hard and I have an easy life. I have enough money that I was able to loan my dad the money to buy a car, and still have more savings after that than he does, I have a good that if not particularly well paid I do enjoy and I’m good at, my family live me in their own way, even tho I feel that part of my social distance and reluctantance towards others is because no one in my family is particularly socially inclined.

Maybe I just really need a hug.

I don’t even know where I’m going with this anymore but I just had so much build of of words in my brain that they had to go somewhere and this has turned into my go to word vomit place

Things will get better. I don’t know when or how but they will. But they won’t if I don’t get enough sleep for a starters. So off to bed I go. If you’ve read all this thank you, I guess, for listening cos I’m not sharing this with anyone irl just yet. And I’m sorry this is so long but tumblr mobile doesn’t let me put in a read now but I want this out in the world even tho no one will see it

#anyway ignore me #long post for ts #sorry #tmi #rebecca speaks #again #with the amount of posts i jave like this on here im really starting to think i need to find an actual person to discuss stuff with #not sure what therapy options there are in the uk cos all my knowledge come from here which is so us centric #but i think im gonna do some research #tomorrow tho #long post #personal

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revengeisalwaysanoption · 5 years ago

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[Fic] All due respect here... (there's no respect due)

Let’s try one last time... I truly apologise if the cut doesn’t work on mobile, I am posting from my laptop.

Enough is enough, they're right. There’s only so much that can be forgiven, before one’s indulgence becomes a red flag. Loneliness is not an excuse, Martino.

“You need to put your foot down” they keep saying. “You need to draw a line and say: this is unacceptable. If you step over the line once you get a warning, but do it twice and we’re done.”

It's just that… you know… He feels so stupid, now? He has been so blind, so naïve and nearly let himself be played like a fiddle. Hurting those who really care about him, and for what? Approval?

The more he thinks about it, the worse it gets. The signals were all there, for fuck’s sake!

Lulling him into a sense of comradery, that he had been missing ever since his friends from high school had all chosen different paths… Yeah, that’s how it had all started. With him, trying so desperately to fill that void. It hadn’t been as difficult as had imagined to bond over incomprehensible lectures, disgusting coffee and eclectic lifestyles. Francesco had been the first to approach him, complimenting his Apparat-inspired T-shirt and asking where he bought it. It hadn’t seen anything quite like it on the Internet, or he would have remembered! Deciding it was best to weed out the homophobes straight away, Martino told him the truth: it was a gift from his boyfriend. Not quite his usual style, but since it made Nico happy to see him wear it…

“Oh man, you’re so whipped.” Francesco had commented, instead, laughing. “But hey, who am I to judge? I’m actually a bit jealous, you know. No one ever made me something that cool. Do you think I could commission him one?”

Marti did, but he had been wrong. Niccolò wasn’t interested in designing clothes for anyone else, and while he was flattered by Fra’s proposal he would have to turn it down. Not exactly a great start, but Martino didn’t think much of it. This wasn’t kindergarten and surely Francesco wouldn’t hold that refusal against Nico.

Marina had literally saved his life, when he crossed the street and didn’t look as he was in the middle of some lovely banter with Niccolò. In return for her heroic deed, he was bound to treat her to lunch. Or a coffee, at least. The way she delivered that ridiculous request, wiggling her head and biting her lips – like a mischievous child, amused by their own audacity – reminded him so much of a certain someone… that he found himself discussing the top 10 TV shows betrayals of the decade (no! they were never going to forgive D&D for what he had done to Daenerys!) over a cappuccino. She might have been side-eyeing him for checking his phone a little too much, but he didn’t really care.

And then came Lorenzo. Well, it was actually Martino who had reached out to him. Who found him sitting on the floor of a dingy bathroom, crying his eyes out. Years ago, he would have stepped out and let someone else comfort a stranger. But then… Then he though ‘what I was the one sitting there? what if it was Nico? I don’t want to think everyone would just walk away and pretend they didn’t see him…’ and sat down next to him. He didn’t ask if he was okay, when he clearly wasn’t. He didn’t ask why he was so distraught. It wasn’t any of his business, and the question alone would have made this guy feel worse. It was a lesson he had learnt the hard way, through his own experience and Nico’s.

“Oi, you got 2 tens or 4 fives? Some spare coins? I’ve only 20€ in my wallet, and that fucking machine never gives you the right change if you put in more than a 10€ note.” He had asked, when Lori looked up.

“I… I…” He had said, sniffling. Frantically, he had started looking for the money and seemed truly sorry he couldn’t help Martino out.

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ll manage. So, what can I get you? You look like you could use some hot chocolate, though I’m afraid I can only find vaguely chocolatey-flavored water, around here.”

He didn’t think he would get to meet any of them ever again, and then one day he spotted them all sitting at the same table. It wasn’t like Martino had ever believed in fate, but that did seem like a coincidence straight out from a Norwegian teen drama. A French romance. Not that he had ever watched either of them, of course. An occurrence meant to show him that the universe had plans, for the four of them.

In hindsight, he should have told the universe where he could shove its plans…

For a while, however, Martino thought there could hardly be anybody on Earth who got luckier than him in when it came to friendship. They always knew where to find the next best party but didn’t mind spending a night in, binge-watching the latest trashy show that had been uploaded on Netflix. Playing FIFA. Discussing politics, and even ethics and philosophy when they were more than a little drunk.

Everything changed, however, when things started to get a bit more personal. When they started dispensing details about their crushes, their heartbreaks, and Martino foolishly felt comfortable enough to share more of his life with Nico. Painting quite an idyllic picture, as complaints and rants about his inability to tidy up a room and tendency to zone out when they were discussing financial matters would only ever be disclosed to Giovanni. Nevertheless, to say that they weren’t his biggest fans would be an understatement.

“Let me guess, it’s Nico. Again.”

“Okay… So, he can leave on read for hours, but starts panicking if you don’t answer straight away?”

“He put salt in your coffee because you weren’t paying attention? Is he… like, five or something? But well, if you find that endearing… You do you, man.”

And it only got worse after they met him, and began spinning a whole other narrative in which Martino was either a hero or a martyr, for ‘putting up’ with Nico.

“Oh, you're such a great guy not giving up on that.”

“You sure must love him a lot to endure all of his up and downs.”

He reassured them all, told them that he appreciated the concern but that they barely knew Niccolò so he wouldn’t stand for any further slandering of his boyfriend.

So they laid low, and stayed quiet, for a while. It hurt them to see Martino trapped in what clearly was an abusive relationship, but there was nothing more that could be said or done about it. Whenever Nico was mentioned, they changed the subject.

Until tonight. Asking them both to join them at a party, and then corner him and attempted to stage an ‘intervention’.

Couldn’t he see how possessive and controlling Niccolò was, manipulating Marti into thinking his new friends were out to get him?

“The two of you, against the world? Doesn’t it sound disturbing to you?”

“Marti, come on, you have to admit that he has controlling tendencies. He shouldn’t need to know where you are at all times, doing what, with whom. He shouldn’t come up and snatch you away, whenever he notices you spend time talking to the same person for more than 2 minutes.”

“It’s like he can’t stand not being at the center of your attention 100% of the time.”

How… How dare they? Who the fuck do they think they are?

“Get out of my face, you fuckers. If I hear you badmouthing Nico ever again, you’re gonna regret it.”

Thankfully, they don’t try to stop him when he storms out the room. The last thing he wants is to end up in a fight, and having Niccolò find out it was because of him. It had already happened once, with Malik and his friends, and… No revival of that was needed, thanks.

Little do they know about their late conversations, when Martino had indeed noticed was off with Niccolò and tried to find out how he could help. Because Marti couldn’t relate to the magnitude of Niccolò feelings, sure, but he had been there the year before. When everyone in Uni had seemed far more interesting that a boy who still attended high school…

Niccolò has a jealous streak, sure. That had been clear ever since he put in his pasta. But it wasn’t the ugly side of jealousy, stemming from a warped sense of ownership over him. It was more like… Feeling like he didn’t matter, of maybe being interest enough to catch someone’s attention but lacking in keep them entertained. Which in turn made him petty, vindictive, clingy. It was only a matter of time before Martino would agree with those guys, and leave him for good.

Marti tapped Nico's skull, then, and said to his brain "Stop with this bullshit. Stop making my boyfriend suffer, you asshole. You know nothing, zero, zilch, nil, nada. You're worse than Jon Snow.” He bent down to kiss his heart, and went on with "You, on the other hand… You know Nico's the best thing that has ever happened to me and that I'd be a fool not to cherish it. So what if he’s got some flaws? Who cares? Not me. One thing matters and it’s this: no else compares. So yeah, tell him he shouldn't worry: I'm not going anywhere."

"Ever?" He mumbled, not quite ready to believe Martino.

"Kim Jong-un, Nico. Remember?" Marti reminded him, smiling as he stroked his cheek.

"Right. How could I forget King-Kong-Là…" That made them both laugh, and they decided not to discuss the matter any further. They were far more pleasurable ways to spend their night together…

So yeah, screw them. Screw everyone who overanalyzes every little thing Niccolò does, who is always ready to point the finger at him and say that Martino deserves better.

Of course he does, duh. Better friends, for a start.

*********************** All due respect here... There's no respect due. So fuck you and you, and you and you. You're cool, but fuck you... And I'm out of here. (Swear Jar, Illy)

#skam italia #nicotino #my writing

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alj4890 · 5 years ago

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Crack Fic Request

(Psych! X Choices: The Royal Romance) as requested by @krsnlove 😂

A/N WARNING This is pure crack. I am combing two of my all time favorites: Psych and The Royal Romance cast of characters. If you haven't ever watched Psych about a fake psychic detective, please...do so. You have no idea the laughter that is missing from your life. If you are a fan of delicious flavor, then read on.

I have no idea who to tag other than my other fellow Psych lover, @hopelessromantic1352

Masterlist

History? What About Her Story?

"My love, have you seen the book you gave me on our wedding day?" Liam walked along the shelves of the palace library, searching each brown leather spine.

"No. I don't believe I have seen it since the reception." Riley set her book down and began to help him search. "Did you allow someone to borrow it?"

"No." He frowned and called for Bastien. A search was conducted with no results.

"It has to be somewhere in here." She muttered.

Maxwell and Drake joined them, bringing Hana and Olivia. After much discussion, Maxwell offered to call in a favor.

"I know a guy who is able to solve these type of mysteries." He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contacts.

____________________

Santa Barbara, California

"Chief, the psychic realm is buzzing with gossip and a little ethereal bird told me to stop by." Shawn announced, bursting in on a meeting between Chief Vick, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter, and Detective Juliet O'Hara.

"Mr. Spencer, I don't know what birds are whispering in your ear but they need to remind you not to interrupt a meeting." She said in a frustrated tone.

"Sorry Chief, but when they tweet, I must answer. Usually with hashtags. Right, Gus?" Shawn turned to his best friend and partner.

"It's true Chief. He uses an unusual amount of hashtags." Gus added.

"Dude! You know my Twitter followers need to be in the know. I can't just offer a thought without a dozen or so carefully phrased hashtags to explain it's significance." Shawn reached over for Juliet's doughnut and was immediately batted away.

"Jules! Sharing is caring." He reminded her.

"If there are doughnuts, we need to be made aware of their location." Gus searched the room and looked out toward the main room of the police station.

"Enough!" Carlton yelled. "Spencer, you and Gusster go find a doughnut and leave."

"Come on, Lassie. Don't you want to break bread with us. Or a doughnut as the case might be while we discuss the next step in our investigation?" Shawn tried to secretly slide Juliette's doughnut his way, earning another slap.

"I would rather go to a hot yoga class with McNabb." Carlton uttered in a deadpan voice.

"Well, I for one am ready to find this Corduroy antique." Shawn said sitting down and propping his feet up on the table.

"Cordonian." Gus corrected.

"I've heard it both ways." Shawn quickly repsonded.

"Shawn you didn't even know it was a country." Gus added.

"Gus, I can't help that the psychic tweets didn't give a geography lesson with the message. There's only a limited number of characters allowed." Shawn argued.

"Gentlemen!" Chief Vick interrupted. She stared pointedly at Shawn until he took his feet off the conference table. "Due to the international attention you and Lassister and O'Hara have gained with past investigations, the King and Queen of Cordonia have asked the four of you to come help find out what happened to one of the king’s prized possessions. The mayor insists you go to show how Santa Barbara is keeping up international relations."

"The tweets never lie." Shawn said, a smile lighting up his face. "What type of clothing should we pack?"

"It's in the Mediterranean." Juliet told him.

"So, snowsuit?" Shawn asked.

"Be ready to leave first thing tomorrow morning. King Liam is sending his private plane for you." Vick flicked her hands for them to leave.

__________________

"Gus, I was meant for this lifestyle. Private planes. Servants. Ruling over a small country. Adored by my people." Shawn reclined in the Corinthian leather chair as the plane flew over the Atlantic.

"Dude, your people would overthrow you within a week." Gus muttered.

"And what a glorious week it would be." Shawn replied.

Gus glanced behind him to where Juliet and Carlton were sleeping. "What did Maxwell tell you?"

"Some brown book filled with the country’s history is missing. The queen presented it as a wedding gift. Who gives their spouse an ancient book as a gift on their wedding night? Do you think there was underwear in it? I bet--"

"Shawn." Gus attempted to reign Shawn's ramblings in.

"Anyway, they can't find it. So it is up to us to find out who took it, why they did, and where it is now."

"Great. Did Maxwell offer any leads?"

Shawn frowned. "No...but how many people actually were in a small palace of a tiny country?"

_________________

Liam and Riley walked with Maxwell down the corridor. "A psychic?" Liam asked again. "I can't believe we invited a psychic detective to assist in this."

Maxwell nodded. "Shawn isn't some run of the mill psychic. He has solved numerous thefts, murders, even stopped a notorious serial killer. I think he will have this book back in your hands by this evening."

They walked into the study and warmly greeted their guests.

"Maxwell!" Shawn walked up and fist bumped him. "How long has it been?"

"Um...I want to say a two months since I was in Canada. The whole book tour being interrupted by Pierre Despereaux's thefts was when we last met." Maxwell explained.

"Thefts?" Riley asked.

"An international art thief, your majesty." Juliet explained, dropping into an awkward curtsy.

"Please, there is no need for any of that." Riley said with a smile. "I'm still not used to it. Every time someone needs a refill on drinks, I hop up to get it."

Juliet laughed and clapped her hands. "Your story is the stuff of dreams. I love how you and King Liam met."

"O'Hara." Carlton muttered.

"Right. Sorry." Juliet straightened up beside him.

"Can you tell us if you have any new staff, possibly seen anyone suspicious around the book?" Carlton asked.

"No, most have been here for years. The ones visiting the palace are nobles and friends that have never caused a problem of this sort." Liam explained.

"Of this sort?" Gus repeated. "So there have been problems?"

Liam shared a loaded glance with Riley. "I recently created a council of both nobles and commoners to help my queen and I rule to the best of our abilities. After the terrorist attacks from the Sons of the Earth, I wanted to try and not allow a situation like that to develop again."

Shawn raised his hand to his head. "I'm sensing that there were a few who did not agree with this."

Riley nodded, eyes wide. "There were some, one in particular, Lord Neville."

"The singer of Tell It Like It Is?" Shawn asked.

"That's Aaron Neville." Gus corrected.

"Right, the quarterback for Green Bay." Shawn asked.

"That's Aaron Rogers!" Gus exclaimed

"Right. Love his neighborhood." Shawn put his hand back to his head. "I'm sensing that Lord Rogers--"

"Neville." Gus whispered.

"That Lord Neville might wish to get back at you. Mayhap even--" he turned to Gus. "Did I use mayhap right?"

"Yes." Gus answered

"Too pretentious?" Shawn furrowed his brow.

"A little bit." Gus shrugged.

"It's this setting. I mean look at this place. Velvet sitting chairs. Who has this? Really, even velvet drapes? Does Elton John visit?" Shawn walked over and lifted the red drape.

"He has..." Liam replied, trying to keep up with Shawn's thought process.

"Is he planning on visiting soon?"

"I--" Liam shrugged. "I don't think so."

"Hmm. To solve this mystery, I am going to need to become one with this palace. I am going to need to eat what you eat. Sit where you sit. Touch what you touch." Shawn winked at Riley, earning a smack to the back of the head from Carlton.

He glared at Shawn before turning to Liam. "Rest assured that O'Hara and I will do all we can to solve this for you."

"If you wouldn't mind, we need to speak to your head of security." Juliet added.

"Of course, right this way." Liam and Riley walked out with the two detectives.

Maxwell grinned. "Alright guys, show me that magic you did in Canada."

"Oh you will see the magic." Shawn promised.

"We got magic for days." Gus added.

"At least for a couple of hours." Shawn corrected. "Maybe an encore card trick or two."

Maxwell chuckled and finger gunned them on his way out. "Great. Let me know if you need anything."

"Magic for days? Really Gus?" Shawn shook his head and left the study.

"What? The man asked for it. What was I supposed to say? Shawn!" Gus ran after him.

__________________

"We start with the list Maxwell gave us of those that are normally in the palace." Shawn explained. "From there, we can easily say Neville did it and we receive some kind of royal award, like a spare chest of jewels or a quick swim in the gold vault."

"Liam is not Scrooge McDuck." Gus reminded him.

"Are you saying he doesn't have a gigantic money vault that he secretly swims in while wearing a bathing suit from the turn of the century?"

"Yes. That's what I'm saying."

"Well, that's disappointing." Shawn muttered.

The pair stopped by an office and knocked. When they opened the door they saw a petite, strikingly beautiful blonde filing some papers. "Who are you?" She asked, eyes narrowing.

"My name is Shawn Spencer and this is my partner, Sir Spinsalot. We have been asked to assist in locating the King's missing book."

Madeleine sat down behind her desk. "And?"

"We were wondering who you suspected." Gus leaned closer. "A lady of your talents of changing the minds of the people should have a few suspects in mind."

A proud smile formed. "When King Liam chose an American waitress as his Queen, there were some that were less enthused with his choice."

Shawn zeroed in on her fingers tensing, the old issues of magazines behind her desk, and the faint tan line on her ring finger. There was also a flyer partially hidden with the word rebound on it. A sticky note had a m and a f with groups of numbers listed. 1728 and 1817 were written down. "I'm sensing that these nobles preferred someone else. They wanted you to be queen."

She momentarily stilled. "Yes they did. After my upbringing as the Countess of Fydella, I was the natural choice as queen."

"I bet they were disappointed when Liam ended your engagement." Gus added.

A hard glint came into her eyes. "I suppose so. Who wouldn't wish for one trained since birth how to run a country and interact with nobles and dignitaries around the world without an entourage to constantly tell her what to do?"

"Good to see you're not bitter." Shawn stood up. "Thank you for your time."

"Do you think she did it?" Gus whispered as they walked down the hall.

"Nah. She has moved on with this new position. Plus it looks like she is getting some type of rebound counseling after being dumped. She's the kind that has to be needed." He explained.

"I think I could need her." Gus grinned, brushing his thumb across his nose.

"I say this with all the love in my heart. Something is wrong with you." Shawn stepped outside.

__________________

"He did it." Shawn nodded toward a man dressed in a demin shirt talking to Juliet.

"What? That's the King's best friend!" Gus exclaimed.

"Doesn't matter. He did it." Shawn persisted. "Only a thief would flirt to distract the investigation."

"He's not flirting. Juliet is." Gus pointed out.

"Man." Shawn shook his head and walked over.

Juliet was smiling. "....I named him Sprinkles because of his dappled coat."

Drake's smirk appeared and he looked up as Shawn and Gus approached. Juliet turned and introduced them.

"Drake, this is Shawn Spencer and Burton Gusster."

He nodded to them. "How's the investigation going? Any leads?"

"It's going." Shawn answered. "I'm not at liberty to reveal any parts."

Drake cocked an eyebrow. "You're not at liberty?"

"That's right, Jack! The psychic's relationship with the visions he is given is precious. Has to be nurtured. It's a circle of trust and it gets upset when I share its secrets with suspiciously handsome dudes that flex their muscles in a barn. Or stable. Is this a stable?" Shawn pulled the door open.

"It's a stable." Gus decided.

Juliet looked up in silent frustration. "Thank you Drake for your time. Guys, I will see you back at the palace." She walked away.

Shawn noticed Drake checking Juliet out and spoke harshly.

"So what do you do here?"

"Er...I do...things." Drake muttered.

"What type of things?" Gus asked.

"I...you couldn't really put a name on it. I do a variety of...stuff." Drake stuttered.

"Is theft of antique cornucopia history--" Shawn began.

"Cordonian." Gus corrected.

"Cordonian history rank as one of your things?" Shawn asked.

Drakes eyes narrowed. "What? Are you actually accusing me of stealing from my best friend?"

"No!" Gus said while Shawn said, "YES!" At the same time.

Drake glared at them and stormed off.

"What's his problem?" Shawn asked.

"Shawn, you just accused the man of stealing. What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Maybe point me toward the most likely suspect. Didn't he seem a little more secretive than one would normally be?" Shawn asked.

"Maybe. Why?" Gus watched Drake walk into a hidden side door.

"I think he's hiding something." Shawn motioned his head in the direction Drake disappeared. "We need to keep an eye on him."

___________________

"There has to be food somewhere in this joint." Shawn muttered.

Gus threw his arm out, stopping Shawn. He took a sniff and turned down a hallway.

"Super sniffer activated. What!" Shawn exclaimed following his friend.

"Do you smell that?" Gus asked, stopping again.

Shawn took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated moan. "It smells like heaven's bakery: one filled with cinnamon, sugar, chocolate, and our third grade teacher Ms. Ferguson wearing that sundress on field day."

Gus closed his eyes in memory. "You know that's right. Every teacher should look like her."

They stepped into the kitchen and watched a lady in a pink dress remove a tray of snickerdoodles from the oven. She brushed her long dark hair back and began to place the cookies on a cooling rack.

"I'm in love." Gus whispered.

Shawn nodded at the vision before them. He walked up to her with a look of wonder on his face. "Excuse me, but are you an angel?"

Hana looked up and giggled sweetly. "I know you! You're the private detectives Maxwell called in." She wiped her hands before holding one out. "I'm Lady Hana Lee."

"My name is Shawn Spencer and the suave gentleman stealing cookies is my partner, The Duke of Earl."

Gus quickly swallowed and gave a slow wave. "Hello."

Hana's grow furrowed. "The Duke of what?"

"Earl. But you can call me Slade." Gus replied with a seductive look.

Hana nodded and motioned toward the counter covered in sweet treats. "Please, help yourself. I tend to overdo it when I bake."

"That is impossible." Gus muttered. He took a bite of a still warm brownie and rolled his eyes in pleasure. "I'm proposing to her tonight." He whispered to Shawn.

"Tonight? I'm proposing marriage this afternoon. She can't be real." Shawn filled a plate with a variety of sweets and sat down. With a mouthful of food and a few moans of pleasure he began to question her. "Lady Hana, have you noticed anyone acting suspicious lately?"

She poured them each a glass of milk and chewed on her bottom lip. "No."

Gus slapped Shawn's hand away from his plate. "Stop playing Shawn!"

"Come on son. You grabbed the last of the macarons! The least you can do is offer one or two."

"Not my fault you took your time with the magic bars." Gus countered.

"They literally have magic in the name. They taste like what I imagine Siegfried and Roy playing with baby tigers feels like." Shawn reached over again and shook his head when slapped. "I can't believe how greedy you're being."

"I don't care." Gus replied in a high pitched voice.

Hana laughed and went over to one of the containers filled with more macarons. She offered it to Shawn and blushed when he exclaimed over her. "I don't care what you say, I can see your wings and halo."

"This is what nice people do Gus, they give." Shawn held up the cookies Hana handed him.

"Suck it Shawn."

"You suck it."

They began to talk quickly over each other and suddenly stopped. Shawn took a drink of milk and focused on Hana. "I'm sensing that you have seen someone you are close to acting odd recently."

Her lips parted in surprise. "Yes, I have. But he couldn't have taken the book! He is much too loyal to ever do something against Liam."

Shawn placed his hand to his head, closed his eyes and slapped Gus for trying to take another brownie. "I'm sensing that the one you are worried about is Drake."

Hana gasped. "Yes! Maxwell told me you were the real thing, but I couldn't believe it."

"I am merely the vessel," he slapped the back of Gus's head for trying again, "that the visions use. Now, would it be too much trouble to find something we can use to carry all of this with us?"

______________

“I don’t like this.” Gus whispered as he crept behind Shawn through the dark palace halls.

“Drake wasn’t in his room. It’s two in the morning. Where is he?” Shawn responded. “I’m telling you, he is up to no good.”

“You’re just jealous that Juliet was flirting with him instead of you.” Gus muttered.

“Please. Me? Jealous? Just because Jules basically giggled like an eighth grade girl over that ridiculously good looking man means--” He held his hand up and stopped Gus. He pointed down another hallway where he could see Drake standing in front of a door.

“What’s he doing?” Gus asked.

Shawn moved in an exaggerated manner to hide behind a suit of armor. He motioned for Gus to follow. He shook his head no. Shawn began to motion faster while Gus silently argued back. They did rock, paper, scissors three times with Gus losing. He snuck over.

Drake looked behind him before knocking in a strange pattern. After a few moments he tried the pattern again, his brow furrowing with the continued silence that followed.

Shawn went to move to another suit of armor, only to end up frozen with a sword to his throat.

“One more move and you and your little friend will be a shish kabob.”

A sultry red head moved out of the shadows and narrowed her green eyes at the pair. “What are you doing here?”

Drake turned around and glared. “It’s those psychic detectives Maxwell called in.”

Olivia kept her sword against Shawn’s throat.

“You would need at least three more.” Shawn suddenly said.

“What are you blabbering about?” Olivia demanded.

“For kabobs.” Shawn continued. “Everyone knows that you can’t just have two things. You need something to make the kebobs pop, like onions, tomatoes, something green. Most add some zucchini yet I think bell peppers add more zing--”

“SILENCE!” Olivia said over his ramblings. “Why are you following Drake?”

“Could you lower the sword?” Gus asked.

She dropped it down. “Now talk before I change my mind.”

“We are searching for the cornstarch--”

“Cordonian!” Gus corrected yet again.

“Cordonian history book.” Shawn finished.

“They think I took it.” Drake folded his muscular arms across his chest.

“Why would Drake steal the book? It is only about nobles and ancient scandals. I think one of the last entries was from 1817.” Olivia noted.

Shawn thought back as his brain flashed to that post it note with that particular year listed. He raised his hand to his temple. “I KNOW WHO STOLE THE BOOK!”

________________

Everyone gathered half asleep in Liam’s study. Shawn stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sure you all wonder why I asked you here.”

“Cut the crap Spencer.” Carlton replied. “We know you have some half cocked theory that will somehow be correct.”

Gus shrugged when Shawn turned to him.

“Really you too?” Shawn asked.

“It’s late Shawn.” Gus countered. “We flew across the country and the Atlantic ocean to get here. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. You know how I get without sleep.”

“Gus, don’t be that can of Coke Zero. Bring back the sweetness.” Shawn pleaded.

He turned back to the group. “This missing piece of history isn’t filled with only boring facts. No! I sense that it is filled with the dirty secrets about what goes on in the unknown, deep, dark recesses of this palace.”

“It’s actually pretty bright everywhere.” Maxwell spoke up with a yawn.

Shawn ignored that. “Even though the scandals go back thousands--”

“Hundreds.” Gus whispered.

“Hundreds of years.” Shawn repeated. “They are still ones that some will want to remain in secret.”

“Who wouldn’t want that?” Drake muttered.

“Someone wanted to erase these recorded memories. Someone who has already gone through humiliation. Someone who doesn’t want their name added to their ancestors’ naughty times. Isn’t that right...LADY MADELEINE!”

Madeleine paused yawning. Her eyes widened for a moment. “I beg your pardon!”

“I can see it all now.” Shawn stood over her. “You were already sick of seeing your name in the magazines as the jilted fiancée of the King. When Riley asked you to be her publicist, it was a slap in the face for a Countess and former Queen in training. But you took it, because your family name was on the line. You had to correct your image somehow. What better way than to appear not only fine being pushed aside, but also being magnanimous to the foreign interloper.”

Madeleine stared silently at him as he continued.

“It was going well until Riley decided to present Liam with a rare and very odd wedding gift. Seriously. Naught underwear is what all men want for gifts.” Shawn turned to Riley and Liam. “Back me up on this guys.”

“It’s true.” Drake muttered.

“Drake!” Riley exclaimed.

“No, he’s right, blossom. It is all we want.” Maxwell added.

Riley blushed and turned to Liam. “Were you disappointed?”

Liam shook his head. “Of course not. I love everything you have given me.” He frowned at Shawn, Drake, and Maxwell. “Proceed Mr. Spencer.”

“If only Riley had not found it.” Shawn continued. “You didn’t realize what it had until you flipped through it. Then you saw what your ancestors did. It wasn’t just on your mother’s side in 1728 that your people got into trouble, but also on your father’s side in 1817. After a little bit of research and the help of Olivia’s memory of your father being from England, it seems the former Duke of Karlington was involved in trying to overthrow Queen Charlotte. Couldn’t have that be discovered, could you?”

Madeleine glared at Olivia. “I should have known that a descendant from traitors would make certain to point out other decent noble’s despicable relatives.”

“You took the book and decided to have those pages removed. But how to do it in a way that Liam wouldn’t notice?” Shawn interrupted before Olivia could retaliate. “You needed to have the book taken apart by a specialist and then rebounded. Simple glue apparently wouldn’t do with the old leather. That’s why if we go to your desk we will find a brochure for a book binding place called Rebound.”

Madeleine paled. She stood up and lifted her chin. “Yes, I took it. If I refuse to recognize my ancestors that betrayed their monarchs then no one else should.”

Gus and Shawn shared a fist bump as Liam had Bastien lead Madeleine away.

Once she was gone, Shawn turned his sharp eyes on Drake and Olivia. “I see what the big secret is. I wasn’t sure which John Hughes movie you were. I thought maybe a gender switched Pretty In Pink. But now that you are all together, I see you guys are The Breakfast Club.”

“What?!” Everyone exclaimed.

“Olivia is Molly Ringwald. She’s rich and fallen for the less economically sound tough guy, Judd Nelson or Drake in this instance. Liam is Emilo Estevez. Nice. Popular. Everyone likes him. I guess that means Riley is Ally Sheedy. Hmm. Hana doesn’t really have a character. We could make you the principal but that just seems mean. Maybe the little sister to Anthony Michael Hall...but you’re too sweet for that too. Maxwell...you’re Anthony Michael Hall but way cooler.” Shawn pointed at each one. “And just like in the movie, Molly and Judd are meeting in secret to be together.”

Everyone stared at the duchess and the commoner that were both speechless at their secret being discovered.

“And my work here is done.” Shawn exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. He walked over to the door. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to catch up on that sleep everyone was mentioning earlier.”

_____________

“I am going to miss this country. After Hana refused my offer of marriage, I guess this will only be a fond memory.” Shawn said as he boarded the plane with the others.

“I’m just glad she made us going away bags.” Gus opened his and frowned. “Shawn! Where are my cookies?”

“Hmm? Seems like another mystery.” He held tight to his bag as Gus demanded he either share what he had or return what was stolen. “Man, I didn’t take your cookies.”

“You must be out of your damned mind if you think I believe that.” Gus argued. The best friends began to talk over one another, bringing up the great cupcake incident of fifth grade.

Juliet sighed as she sat down with Carlton. “It’s going to be a long flight.”

Carlton nodded. “Good thing I stole Guster’s bag of baked goods.” He offered a cookie to Juliet. She glanced at Shawn and Gus before biting into a chocolate chip cookie.

#choices the royal romance #psych!#shawn spencer #burton guster #carlton lassiter #juliet o'hara #liam x riley #trr liam #trr maxwell #trr drake #trr hana #trr olivia #crack fic

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edgarbright · 5 years ago

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[ Zero's route | Part 24 spoilers ]

Oh my god, fam, oh my goodness

Don't expect this to be coherent but do expect it to be long because I'm bursting with emotions right now

Spoiler mentions from Sirius and Edgar’s routes

THIS IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED BUT NEVER EVEN EXPECTED TO HAVE. I didn’t know this was something I could even ASK for.

My five favorite guys teaming up for the battle at the top of the Magic Tower. ALL FIVE OF THEM, NO MORE, NO LESS!

I literally decorated my room like this months ago to make this image but never had reason to use it-- until now!

Before I jump into part 24, let's go back a few parts for a second! All the events building up to this battle were marvelous.

The themes for this route are all about saving, rescuing, helping, belonging, loving.

And the bonds of trust.

Lancelot saves Alice from the Magic Tower, from himself, by directing Edgar to change assignment orders and send Zero to "help" him. Lancelot trusts Zero so much that he trusted Zero to betray him. He trusted Zero to do the right thing.

MY HEART IS BURSTING WITH LOVE FOR MY KING! T_T

Zero saves Alice from Lancelot at the Magic Tower's front door. He promised to protect her. He wanted to protect her. So he threw away everything to do so.

Harr saves Alice from the forest. Harr is "repenting for his sins" in regards to Zero and wouldn't have made a move if Zero hadn't agreed to it. But Zero realized he had to trust him. More so, Zero may have vaguely remembered him (per His POV) and knew he could trust him.

Harr and Alice go to save Zero from the Magic Tower. Alice already trusts Harr. Fun fact: Alice is ALWAYS quick to trust Harr in every route. (Then again, she’s quick to trust just about anyone so lol) I loved that we got a moment at Harr’s house and finally met Loki! It was a sweet little family moment. My belief has always been that Zero is also part of Harr’s “family” too and I was not disappointed! Zero carrying on Harr’s lollipop kindness. My heart. T_T

I would love it if Edgar got his candy addiction from Zero giving him candy for the first time and then it just got out of control (lol). No evidence yet but the route isn’t over...!

The truth about Zero reveal: I had already surmised as much because too many people in this fandom hint at spoilers like it’s their job but it still hurt to read about. The flashbacks to Zero as a child in the Tower are honestly painful. Also knowing that Harr would have been about 15 during those flashbacks, we now have one child trying to stay kind and show kindness to another child in a cruel environment and T_T Harr just wanted to study magic to make the world a better place, and instead he got wrangled into a world of child abuse and torture... And he’s still seeking to repent after twelve years for not saving Zero back then...

Edgar saves Alice from her prison cell. Good lordy God bless. Before that we saw him basically running Red Army HQ with Lancelot gone and Jonah at the front. Beautiful. Edgar is nothing BUT trustworthy in Zero's entire route. When Zero isn't around to protect Alice, such as at the party, he trusts Edgar to do it and Edgar does it spectacularly because Edgar is, in fact, the best.

As Dean so wonderfully stated earlier: Edgar is great at taking care of other people.

AND THAT’S THE TEA! Don’t let anyone tell you Edgar is anything but loving!

Edgar realizes Alice wants to come along with him to save Zero. Edgar trusts Alice to know what is best for her. He trusts Alice cares for Zero as much as Edgar cares for Zero, so they'll work together. BEAUTIFUL. I love my man acknowledging Alice’s strength!

Lancelot causing the explosion was somewhat expected. He’d vanished earlier and I KNEW he had to be up to something, somewhere.

And that moment when he betrayed Amon!? HOT DAMN I LOVE MY KING, Y’ALL!! A shame his attack didn’t work but I am ALL about that rescue-Lancelot lifestyle! Harr is too as we’ll see shortly lmao

Edgar saves Lancelot by evening the odds. THE TRUST BETWEEN THEM COMES FULL CIRCLE. I'm STILL buzzing over that goddamn moment chapters earlier when Edgar comes upon Lancelot kidnapping Alice from Red Army HQ. I honestly couldn't tell if Edgar would have followed commands or fight back, but you could tell he was wrestling with it. If Lancelot had forced him to follow orders, that would have been the ultimate betrayal considering Edgar is already pact-bound to be an obedient dog. Lancelot instead has Alice locked away so he can talk to Edgar 1:1. Lancelot might not have told him the whole truth but Edgar is intelligent enough to put the pieces together himself. He often does so in other routes without prompting.

Edgar and Alice save Zero together. EDGAR’S PLATONIC LOVE IS GIVEN EQUAL FOOTING AS ALICE’S ROMANTIC LOVE!! That moment when Zero was still holding out against Alice's pleading and Edgar just round-house kicks him to the ground and puts a sword to his neck and just DEMANDS Zero to think about who he is, what he wants, why he wields his sword!

HOT DAMN YOU TELL HIM, EDGAR! I LOVE EDGAR SO FREAKING MUCH!

My heart hurts so much for Zero, who was robbed, even temporarily, of all that love by the Magic Tower T_T They tossed him away, he found a place to belong, and they tore that from him. The absolute cruelty.

And then surprise! Loki saves Harr from imprisonment! Harr is no damsel in distress so I was wondering if our current team was going to have to rescue him later, or if he was going to rescue himself. But he absolutely deserved to be at the final fight AND I WAS NOT DISAPPOINTED! The second that ??? for the speaker showed up I was just !!!!!

Basically Edgar and then Harr’s appearances got me like:

So now we have a Lancelot, Edgar, Alice, Harr, and Loki team-up vs. Amon and Dalim! Operation Stop Amon and Save Zero is in full effect!

And holy shi-- The moment when Amon starts using Zero's tattoo to hurt him was brutal. It was bad enough when Dalim did it in front of Zero’s soldiers but here they are at it again in front of all the people who care about Zero the most.

Personally, I think it's wild that some people claim Ikevamp is darker than Ikerev. The Ikevamp cast talk about dark plots but the Ikerev cast deal directly with war, murder, betrayal, coercion, kidnapping, child abuse, child neglect, torture, PTSD, depression, child abandonment, and more. It just wraps them up in a prettier, brighter package.

But moving on!

Alice saves Zero from Amon. I love all the flashbacks. I love Alice's promise to Zero. I love how she guards his neck to keep him from hurting himself and how she'll protect him. How they’ll protect each other. It hurt so bad but felt so good.

(Mockingjay Part 2 was on TV last night so I already got a heavy dose of Peeta and Katniss angst and how they always protect each other -- “It’s what we do” -- so I was primed for the feels between Zero and Alice here.)

At some point Alice also shows sympathy for Dalim and that struck a cord with me as well. I was actually wondering what the point of Dalim has been, as a potential suitor, since he's just been acting like a second-rate Amon this whole time, being just as villainous and coercing Lancelot the same as Amon. But seeing Amon abusing Dalim, too, and having Dalim continue to fight even when he was in such bad shape just gives me a throw-back to Edgar, who continues to follow his uncle's orders even at the cost of hurting himself. Although that Dalim used Zero's tattoo to hurt him is a big F-NO so he's got lots of redeeming to do lol

Lancelot and Harr (LANCELOT AND HARR, TOGETHER, ALLIES, FRIENDS!!) save Edgar, Alice, and Loki from the collapsing building. Lancelot and Harr aren’t antagonists in this route! HARR ONLY HAS TO SAY LANCELOT’S NAME AND LANCELOT KNOWS WHAT HE MEANS AND WHAT THEY NEED TO DO!

Harr: Lancelot!

Lancelot: Yeah!

Lancelot and Harr used their magic to shield us from the falling debris.

THAT'S IT THAT'S ALL THE CONVERSATION THEY NEED AND THEY ARE IMMEDIATELY IN UNISON. My heart is bursting with love and happiness from such a small moment. I hope we get some follow-up after this omg

(As a salty aside, this is leagues different to when Harr shows up in Sirius's route and Sirius is just like, "What are you doing here???" and then Sirius gives Loki the third-degree with all that mistrust.)

BUT MOVING ON!

That final CG with Zero makes my heart bleed. He looks so sad and so tired, but he’s alive.

Zero: I'm home.

Alice: Welcome home!

I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING!!!

I love Zero so much. A lot. In abundance. The love and relief is so palpable at this moment. Alice and Zero have such a beautiful love story.

Part 24 took me over a half hour to read which is twice as long as usual and every second of it was a PLEASURE. Just a few days left until I’m done with the whole route and it’s honestly shaping up to be one of the best in any otome. It’s adapted a lot of elements from other routes and made them it’s own to great effect. Just a fantastic, well-rounded story with a beautifully heart-warming romance. Bless bless bless!!

#my ikerev #ikerev zero #zero's route #zero route spoilers #ikerev spoilers #when i say rambling i mean rambling

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utopiannamjoon · 6 years ago

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Ephemeral, part 8 [Final]

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Business au

Pairing: Jimin x reader, Namjoon x reader

Warning: slight swearing and somewhat slut shaming

Words: 7k

Synopsis: You had everything from the materialistic world but all of them were useless to you when you had to share them with a man who didn’t love you. You never thought you’d be genuinely happy until someone approached you. An affair that turned your life upside down.

You can find links to all of the parts in my masterlist, linked in bio

Your life living in the guest room of Suzie’s house was beginning to feel normal even though it was the opposite of how you used to life. The mansion you had made you feel empty and hollow despite the rooms being filled with designer items and decorations you chose. It didn’t take you long to get used to the atmosphere of love and friendship as it was something you’ve always dreamed of since you were a child and saw how others lived differently from your family. But you never thought that would be you.

Suzie didn’t complain or hint at the fact that you’ve been living with her for months now without paying rent. She told you that she is doing this because she loved you and refused every cent you tried to offer her - so you tried to do everything in the house from the cleaning to cooking. You wondered what did you do in your previous life to deserve her.

Jimin was happy, his eyes would be half lid when you looked at you with the familiar smile planted on his face but something was eating at him, you couldn’t tell what it was. The uncertainty kept creeping in when the weeks went by. He would come home from whichever farm he got work for that day, eyebags bigger than you’ve ever seen them but still he would have a smile on and try to hide his exhaustion. The blisters on his hands were starting to heal so it made you relieved that he was doing something less physical.

You heard the door open so you dusted your hands on the apron and peaked from the kitchen. Jimin kicked off his shoes and stretched out his arms before seeing you from the corner, and the smile appeared on his lips.

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” You commented and motioned for him to come hug you, which he gladly did, “You have good timing, dinner is ready.”

“We aren’t ordering pizza?” Jimin nudged you. The pizza boxes had their own deserved pile on the counter from the many times the three of you were too tired or just plain lazy to cook since now you couldn’t just order someone to come cook a full course meal for you. “This is a nice surprise, and fitting since I have something to tell you.” Jimin took a seat and Suzie laid a plate for him and then took a seat herself.

“Just thinking about pizza makes me nauseous,” Suzie scoffed and shoved her mouth full, “Homemade food is ten times better.”

“You’re not wrong there.”

“I know I’m not.” She grinned. She is never wrong.

Jimin huffed and shook his head. Taking the ladle in his hand and pouring the sauce on his plate, he looked at you, “But how was your day? Restocking and refilling?”

“Yeah, same old same old,” you nodded and bit your lip. “You know, the usual.”

“C’mon you always have a story to tell.” He egged you on, “Did that old man come by for fish bait again?”

“No, not this time but someone else did,” You mirrored his smile, “A banker. We got to talking and he suggested a loan.”

”No,” Jimin said simply in between bites, without his expression wavering in anyway.

”But if we talked to him about it and the options, we could move -”

While Jimin set down his cutlery, he and Suzie made eye contact. Her lips pulled a flat line and the pace she was eating in slowed down.

”No,” Jimin repeated himself firmly but his smile was nowhere to be seen anymore. ”They won’t lend me money.” He made sure to stress every word more than the last one.

“I’m sure if we went in there for a chat we could figure out a plan or something.” The voice you spoke with wasn’t as confident as it was before. The way he denied you so soon had you confused.

”We won’t get a loan. My pay isn’t stable enough and after I lost my high ranking job and all of my possessions they aren’t looking at me very kindly.” He spoke with his head down while glancing at Suzie and the plate in front of you, trying his best to avoid your eyes, ”I don’t want to continue this discussion.”

”You don’t know that. We’ll go there together and we can figure out something because we both work.” You suggested since it was a good choice in your opinion. It wouldn’t hurt you in any case.

”You went from being unemployed to working on the cash register at a small general store. A job that you’ve had for less than half a year. A teenager has more experience in the eyes of a bank.” He finally looked at you, “Namjoon has always taken care of money for you so you haven’t had to worry about a thing. It isn’t as simple as walking in and signing a piece of paper like you seem to think.”

Silence set in and Suzie was looking down at her plate with her tongue in her cheek. The chair screech was the only thing to break the agonizing sound of crickets when you got up and marched for the front door.

“Babe - Babe, don’t walk out,” Jimin sighed as you walked by but you didn’t react. This isn’t the ideal living situation but you won’t take this attitude when you’ve just cooked after coming home from work. You’ve had a hard day of work too, he isn’t the only one having a physical job with having to wake up earlier than the rooster.

”Wow, good job.” Suzie scoffed when you were by the front door pulling on your shoes, ”That’s basically telling her that she is useless and has done nothing in her life.”

”Don’t start with me, you know that’s not what I meant. She’s ruining everything.” Jimin told her with an angrier tone than you would’ve ever wished for. His utensils hit the plate again and he buried his face in his hands, ”This isn’t what I wanted. What about us?”

“Life doesn’t always go along with your plans, pull yourself together.”

You spent quite a while walking in the surrounding forests trying to empty your mind. Thoughts of you overreacting started to fill your mind, he was right after all. It’s not like your life has been hard. You haven’t had to work for anything - well except for your degree that ended up being useless since you weren’t allowed to intervene in Namjoon’s or your father’s business. You helped out Namjoon in a lot of things for sure but no one would hire you based on that alone. It wasn’t a real job sending out invitations and organizing gatherings when it’s only for your husband.

Organizing anything for Namjoon was always a hassle. He would change his mind constantly and somehow you were at fault for not reading his mind.

Nothing seemed to go forward. You’re stuck with your boyfriend living in your best friend’s house and there wasn’t a way out. You couldn’t lend money from anyone, not from a bank or your parents and you refused to put Suzie in that position.

You haven’t had any contact with your parents since of your divorce when your father called you a disgrace while your mother stood by him with the sulkiest look on her face - probably wanting to grow the guts to leave the horrific relationship she’s been stuck in since she was 18. That nearly happened to you too.

Honestly, would it have been better? If Jimin is regretting everything, is it good to continue? You did this decision together because you wanted to, forgetting the life you had before and leaving the material possessions with it. Maybe you’re so used to the lavish lifestyle that getting started from zero is absolutely impossible.

You have no traits or experience with the real world. Your dad has handed everything to you.

The surrounding trees went high but they were nothing compared to the concrete towers you’ve gotten used to since you were a child but it was something so freeing. The nature around you was so pure of anything evil, bushes, tree trunks and leaves were there for you to respect. You’re equal to the animal counterparts that ran through the grounds and branches.

Nothing in your previous life was equal. Your dad was the head of the family and you and your mother had no authority to intervene. With your marriage with Namjoon you had the choice to decide if you wanted to decorate the dining room with roses or tulips once he had guests over.

Jimin talked to you like you were sound in the head, finally making you feel like you were worthy and your opinions aren’t just made up in an emotional outburst. What a shame that everything was going down the drain. Something had to be done.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket and you checked the notifications. Great. You felt foolish getting your hopes up that someone was finally trying to contact you. The battery is near dead and there was so sign of Jimin or even Suzie trying to message or call you.

It’s not like one text message from him would make everything better but it would show that he cared. It’s hugely disappointing even though you weren’t expecting him to crawl back to you, like you always did to Namjoon. Maybe it was your time to submit to his will, it wasn’t any different from your previous life after all.

You didn’t go home. You didn’t hear from anyone. Not a call nor a text message. You slept at the general store’s back room that was equipped with a bed and a quilt, not the ideal sleeping place but it would do. The owners would understand and wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

You organized the shelves and took care of the inventory, filling up the papers and putting everything in their respected places. Your day could’ve started better but you weren’t the one to complain - out loud at least.

Seeing the faces of your regular customers made you push off the thoughts of Jimin as you served and helped them get what they wanted. You got an apple for the old man’s horse and new batch of worms for his fishing trip this evening. His stories never bored you, they reminded you of the stories you read in secrecy from your parents, you wanted to witness all of those things too and now you’re a step closer to that childhood dream.

The man waved goodbye to you after his horse feasted on the bright red apple, leaving a smile on your face as you went to continue your duties.

It didn’t take long until the door opened and you heard the familiar ring from the bell, you yelled, “I’ll be right there.” from the back. You dusted your hands from the flower puffing out of the bag and walked to the register.

“This is an absolute downgrade.” A man in a black jacked sneered, looking down on his nose to you, ”This is an humiliation to your family. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and your head got empty upon seeing him. Your only wish was to never see him again,

“Dad…”

“How could you trade to this?” He looked around with his nose wrinkled and full of disappointment. ”Didn’t you have everything?

“I - “

“Namjoon is willing to take you back if you do it respectfully. I talked to him and he isn’t carrying ill will with him.” He swiped his index finger on the counter and ended up staring at it in utmost disgust. How could you do this to him?

“I’m not going back to him. He doesn’t treat me well.” You uttered.

“Is this about love? Whats going on with you? Do you think that matters?” He moved his disappointed gaze to yours. The simple move made you feel like you were nothing, like you were the size of an ant and forgotten by the society. ”You will learn to live with him, you’re not a teen anymore. You’re being selfish in turning him down. What I can’t imagine that he is willing to take you back, I would’ve thrown your mother out in the curb if she did that to me. What’s even worse I can’t talk to my business partners when they ask about my daughter. What will i tell them?”

“So, it’s about you? Tell them your kid finally thinks for herself,” You stated. It’s never up to you to make choice in your life. “Do you manipulate mom as well?” You knew you crossed the line but you didn’t care or you thought you didn’t. The shout made you jump regardless.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” He warned you, loudly, using the deep voice he told you off since you have been a toddler, ”You will leave Jimin and we’ll forget this ever happened. You’re acting like a whore, getting together with a married man.”

You didn’t know what to say. You stared at each other in complete silence but only the one of you felt frightened. Your dad has always been quick to raise his voice especially when he didn’t get what he wanted. It’s his way. No compromises.

“Where do you live?” He finally asked when you moved to look at the tip of your shoes, “With him, supposedly. Namjoon didn’t give you a thing in the divorce, rightfully so. You don’t deserve anything. I don’t give you any monetary support for these actions…” He pondered for a second, “It’s suzie, isn’t it?”

“No.” You shook your head with glowy eyes. You knew he was going to do something.

“Let’s go. Close this hell hole and let’s go.” He demanded, “I’m going alone if you’re not joining with me.”

You flipped the sign hanging on the door to ”closed” when you followed your father outside with your head hanging low. Jimin isn’t supposed to be home yet and Suzie is often out doing her own business so you crossed your fingers that there wasn’t going to be more fighting. Or you couldn’t say you fought your father since the man has always been the ruler in your life. You feared him.

The car ride was only few minutes but it felt like an eternity. Silence only broken when he yelled at you for being a total loser and not thinking of your best interest. You should have been with Namjoon until death do you apart, that’s how it’s meant to go whether you liked it or not.

Your father ripped the door open with his strong grip and the house got possessed with his terrifying presence. You stepped in after him but for your misfortune the house wasn’t empty.

Jimin and Suzie sat on the couch, facing each other and giggling like school girls when you walked after your father to the living room. A weird feeling set in your stomach, making you feel more uneasy by the second. When did they become that close?

Jimin noticed you and your father standing in the hallway. The smile on his face dropped when he saw you but the color drained away when he realized who was standing right there beside you - a man whose face took away the tiniest bit of happiness in your soul once has.

Suzie followed Jimin’s gaze and was quick to retract her hand from his to behind her back. Her eyes were about to fall out from the intensity they captivated. She has always succeeded in protecting her own honor except when against your father.

”Sir -” Jimin stood up frantically, feeling his heart jump in his throat. He was baffled seeing your father like this. A part of him wished he wouldn’t have to face him ever again. They’ve talked during dinners but the man was not easy to talk to.

”Mr. Park, how lovely it is to see you.” Your dad said the kind words with a toxic tone and a small smirk, ”Let’s get down to business, shall we?” He clasped his hands together and the menacing look set on his face, “You got in my daughter’s small brain and in return you lost your possessions. Its clear to say that you’re insane and cannot take care of yourself let alone my offspring. Especially now that you made that sacrifice and have another slut with you right there.”

”Sir, I can -”

”No. You’re not hearing me. You’re nothing, dust. You’re an absolute imbecile for leaving your life behind and all for her.” Your father kept accusing, now being frank, as if his previous comments were kind from the get go.

”Do NOT talk about her like that.” Jimin raised his voice which made everybody take a step back - even your father. He was always such a smooth and a kind talker so it caught everybody’s attention. Jimin breathed in and explained himself. ”Sir, I did what I felt was the right thing to do.”

”Mr. Park are you criticizing my way of parenting?” Your father purposefully brushed off his comment and the friendly tone, “You should’ve thought with your head instead of your smaller self downstairs. Look where it got you. You’re regretting all of it.”

”I’m not.” Jimin’s lips rose up from a small, warm smile that caught your attention. There it was. The beautiful and genuine smile you missed for a day - that he shared with Suzie while you were gone, neither of them trying to contact you. ”I’d make the same decision in a heartbeat. I know you’re cold enough not to care about love but I love your daughter. I’m inlove with her. I will marry her with or without your approval. I don’t care about your opinion.” He motioned his hand towards the door, ”I suggest you to leave, we don’t have anything to converse about.”

”Is that a threat?” He scoffed, taking in everything that fit his agenda, ”She will go back to Namjoon. Your feelings don’t dictate anything. She won’t stay with you any longer.”

”If that’s her wish.” Jimin agreed which made your father grow the most smug smile you’ve ever seen.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the door but you held your ground and wouldn’t budge.

”What’re you doing?” He looked up from your shoes stuck to the ground to your face.

”I’m not going to Namjoon.” You whispered out and shook your head, that’s everything you got out.

You were beginning to see the fumes escaping your dad’s ears when he looked between you and Jimin with eerie eyes. His lip twitched as he was about to say something, but he spat on the floor and turned on his heel, the door leaving a loud bang after he shot out, not being used to people opposing him. His intimidating persona made it virtually impossible to disagree.

Jimin took quick steps and walked by you to the front door, seeing himself if your dad was actually leaving. Your dad spoke on his phone as he speeded off the yard, leaving tire marks deep in the gravel.

Jimin joined you to the living room, being unsure who to look at. He looked at Suzie who shrugged, she had no idea what just happened.

Everyone stood still, completely baffled at what just happened. Your dad stormed in and started to accuse everybody.

“Why was he here? Did you call him?” He turned to you but you didn’t answer - you didn’t like that question. Why would’ve you called him? You hated your father more than Jimin did, he didn’t even have that big of a reason to hate him.

The odd feeling in your stomach wouldn’t die down, instead it made its way up your esophagus. You didn’t say a thing when you bolted to the bathroom, hand on your mouth to not spill everywhere, leaving Suzie and Jimin even more confused.

“Are you not feeling well? Are you sick?” Jimin had followed you to the otherside of the house, making sure to hold your hair up when he noticed that you were in fact spilling your guts out. “Is it because of your dad? Did- did he touch you?!”

You shook your head and spat your mouth empty before rinsing your mouth at the sink while Suzie and Jimin stared at your back intently.

Your eyes met Suzie’s through the mirror and you felt something you had never felt towards her. Jealousy. Everytime your heart banged and sent blood flowing through you it felt worse. She was the one keeping him company while you were gone, probably telling him to forget about your little tantrum.

Jimin kept asking you a bunch of questions but you denied them, just saying no and brushing them off. You didn’t feel sick or too bad for that matter. You just had to throw up.

You’ve tried your best in avoiding your two roommates despite the efforts they’ve put in trying to talk to you and get you to engage with them. You didn’t like to see them together or in the same room just talking to each other because the unexplained jealousy would just spike in you. They made you angry if you’re honest. It didn’t seem fair.

You sat on the sofa with a teacup in hand watching some soap-opera from the tv when Jimin came to sit next to you, turning his whole body to face you.

“Honey, if you’re not feeling that well we should visit the doctor.” He sounded genuinely worried but you had an inkling he knew something was up.

“No, I’m fine.” You brushed him off.

“Just a quick little visit, I’ll be there too.”

You shook your head and sipped on you tea, eyes fixated on the screen.

“Are you sure? I could borrow Suzie’s pickup to take you.”

“I’m sure.” You sighed and turned off the tv while standing up and walking away. “Stop pressuring me.”

You stood right outside of the tall building, looking up at the biggest pentroom apartment the building had, something Jimin had bought and then eventually let go.

“We can still go back.” Jimin turned to face your profile with the bus schedule open from his phone.

“No, we are here, we’ll go in.” You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” You nodded again.

“I don’t want to make you do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I just thought it would be good to accept the invitation to let people know that we’re doing great.”

“It is.”

“Are you still feeling well? We don’t have to do this.”

You rolled your eyes at his question that his insecurities fueled on. You’re already here and you didn’t even feel that bad, though Jiwoo’s birthday party couldn’t have come at a worse time - your relationship has hit a rock that the other party had no idea of. Jimin couldn’t have skipped the party since he and Jiwoo didn’t have anything against each other. She was surprisingly understanding of his situation, it was just her outer appearance didn’t give that vibe about her.

“I’m fine.” You stated with a dramatically loud exhale, “Let’s just get in.”

Jiwoo opened the door with a huge smile planted on her face and she took no time to hug you and Jimin, welcoming you in. She handed you two champagne glasses from a waitress who walked by. “Thank YOU for showing up. You two look so lovely together!” She squeezed her hands together, “Please help yourself around, I’m sorry I gotta go to be a good hostess but I hope you enjoy! I’ll hunt you down again, I wanna hear everything about you too.” She gave a cheeky smile and a wink of an eye, and was gone faster than the words were able to leave your mouth.

You looked at the drink and just gave it to Jimin without having tasted it. He took it without saying a word, he cocked his head and watched you turn your back at him.

You haven’t seen the apartment before so you went ahead and took a look around when Jimin shook some hands near the entrance. It was spacious and had a gorgeous view to the city, directed towards the beautiful sunset and the border where the countryside began - where he grew up.

The designated place for the gifts was the kitchen island where you had the full view of. It was full from colourful boxes with varying sizes, what a shame that you didn’t get her anything. Anything the boxes were hiding you can’t afford even with the money you’ve been saving up.

The living room was full of life. People of many ages and from the same background showed up, you and Jimin were out of place here. You had nothing to your name. The person who was closest to your level of income was a multimillionaire. The money you and Jimin are able to make together in a month is the same as they make in an hour. You’re sure that Namjoon makes that even in a shorter amount of time and around the clock.

Speaking of the devil, Namjoon stood tall and sipped on his champagne when he saw you enter the room while chatting this and that with Seokjin. His lip pulled up into a smirk as you scanned the room with big and amazed eyes. He excused himself from Seokjin and made sure his vest was sitting well on him in a hope that he would be even more irresistible for you.

He didn’t make far when Jimin appeared from the corner and wrapped his arm around your waist, making Namjoon stop in his tracks. He was confused, looking like he froze next to the coffee table. Did your father fail once again? The deal was that he got you to leave Jimin for Namjoon.

“Oh lookie who is here,” Jimin whispered to your ear when his hand met your waist, the irritation in his voice was easy to catch.

Seokjin made his way from beside Namjoon, wearing a charming smile when he greeted you, ignoring the man who was standing like a statue in middle of the room, “You two are my absolute favorites.” He smiled like it was the most obvious thing in the world, ”I’ve heard alot about you and I admire the things you are willing to do for each other. That’s love at its finest.”

“Thank you sir.” Jimin responded when he finally registered what was being said to you two.

“You’re welcome,” Seokjin let his hand rest on Jimin’s shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, “Now excuse me, I’ve got to get back to my business partner who is having a stroke.” He laughed and then bowed to you.

“What’s going on?” Jimin picked his jaw up from the ground and asked you before leading you around the apartment. “Why are they being so nice to us? Aren’t they supposed to think we aren’t worthy of their company.”

You shrugged.

“Okay, that’s it.” He pushed you to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. “You’re so distant with me. You refused to drink the champagne that Jiwoo offered and won’t actively participate into conversations. Why are you so cold to me? You’ve been like this for few days.”

You looked at his shoes and pursed your lips, you had no intention on saying anything.

“C’mon. Tell me,” He crouched down to look you in the eye but fails at finding them, “What’s wrong? What’re you feeling?”

“Nothing. It’s just that...“ You got out and he nodded along your words to encourage you to speak. “You didn’t even try to contact me then and you seem awfully close with Suzie.” Now that you say the words out loud it sounds so stupid and childish. You couldn’t help how you’ve been feeling. It’s like for some reason mother nature wanted to punish you by sending unwanted hormones through you. This wasn’t logical in any sense.

“I wanted to call you but she said that it’s better if you can have space to think.” He explained.

He sounded reasonable but you couldn’t help what you were feeling. You’re entitled to your feelings even if they won’t make sense. “Maybe you want to be with her and not me.”

“Why do you feel that way? I’m not close to her at all.” His gaze bore into you but you would look at the wall rather than at him. ”How can I get it through your head that I love you and only you.” The frustration in his voice grew when you refused to look at him. ”I want to marry you. I’ve never thought about other woman than you.”

Jimin huffed when you stayed silent and disinterested and digged his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. “You almost saw it when your dad barged in the house. This is what Suzie hid.” He opened the box, revealing a silver ring with a small diamond decorating it. “I know it’s been hard between us but it’ll get better. It’s a new situation for the both of us but it’s okay because we have each other.” He paused. ”That morning I wanted to tell you that I got a job from my former dance teacher Mr. Kahn. We met him at the farmers’ market.”

You traced your eyes along his suit to his eyes that were observing every little detail of your face. “After telling about my job I wanted to take you out to the lake to see the sunset. I wanted to tell you that you’re the most expensive thing in my life and I would do everything all over again if it meant I’d get to have you. I don’t want to lose you.”

When you averted your gaze to the ring, Jimin kneeled in front of and took your left hand in his, “I know this isn’t the most glamorous place to do this but I love you so much. I can’t promise to give you everything you need or deserve but I can promise that I will try my hardest. You’re my treasure I want to hold close to me the rest of our lives. I want to form my future with you. Will you help me make that dream come true?”

Jimin held the ring in the air, waiting for your response. He quickly grew nervous when you would just stare at it. “It’s your time to say something. Please say something.” He said and swallowed the lump out of his throat. His palm was sweating and heart racing faster by the second.

A tear fell on his hand and he was quick to look at you, tears of joy falling out and the big and beautiful smile on your face.

“I do.” You said and blinked the tears away. ”I do!”

Jimin wasted no time with pulling the ring on your finger and getting up to kiss you, swiping the tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’ve missed you.” You told him when he pulled away but you grabbed the back of his head to pull him in again to catch his soft lips in yours.

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiled and kissed you again, slowly getting deeper and deeper. Soon the kisses became more open and needy but he pulled away. “We better stop or I can’t go out there anymore. I’ve really been missing you if you can tell,” He chuckled, looking down at his crotch and you smirked,

“Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?” You recognized the neediness in his voice, it trembled and came out whinier than usual.

You hummed and reached to cup him, giving it attentive care you felt his bulge grow bigger by your touch, “Yeah I’m sure. This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex in the bathroom.”

“In this one it is.” He admitted coyly and grabbed your hips to lift you up on the counter. “You’re the only one who makes me horny enough to fuck in a bathroom, any bathroom.” He grabbed your thighs to pull them apart, letting himself between them and attaching his lips to your neck.

“Oh, yeah?” For some reason you were flattered, no one has ever made him feel like you do. You played with his suit collars and he nodded,

“You make me so horny.”

”Show me.”

“You want me to show you how much I want to fuck you senseless?” He pulled the hem of your dress up and grabbed your ass to pull you close to him, you’re sure you’ll have marks from that the next day. “I’ll fuck you like the little slut you are. You’ll be screaming my name and have those other’s in jealousy.”

His hands were gripping your behind when he started grinding on you. You could feel your juices sticking on your panties as his bulge massaged you. It has been a while since you got him riled up.

He pulled away and you immediately missed his contact.

Jimin teased your legs, hovering his fingers over your inner thighs and running them over to your core, though he wouldn’t touch there just yet. You thought you’d go insane from his teasing until he allowed his forefinger touch you over the material of your underwear and run his finger up and down with little to no pressure.

He enjoyed the little reactions you got out of you. The little gasps and how your breathing pattern changed from moment to moment. He could do this forever, seeing you so vulnerable and needy, only from his touch, at least up to the point where his trousers started hurting him.

Jimin slithered his finger under your panties and his eyes were about to roll to the back of his head when he felt how wet you were, thinking of the pure euphoria he is getting to feel real soon.

Jimin didn’t hesitate to pull off your underwear and you helped him by lifting your buttocks in the air for a second. His fingers teased your entrance, warming you up for himself as he reached over to kiss you. You heard how fast his breathing was getting,

“Take off your pants.” You told him and he wasted no time in losing his belt and dropping the suit trousers on the floor along with his briefs, letting himself spring free. You helped your view get better by opening his buttons on his dress shirt, toned muscles and v-line right in your line of sight.

He gave your lips a light peck and rested his forehead on your shoulder to observe his hand give a few quick strokes along his length before guiding himself at your entrance. He shut his eyes tightly when he pushed himself in you, steadily but carefully. He sighed from relief and you expected him to move, but he didn’t, he stayed put and lifted his head up.

Jimin looked into your eyes and a smile set on his lips, eyes pulling back into half orbs, certainly something you weren’t expecting in a moment like this. “I love you,” He said with the grin growing bigger.

It was like Jimin was able to see through your soul but you didn’t mind it, you wanted him to. You were ready to share your life with this man. He made you more comfortable than you’ve ever felt before.

“I love you too,” You giggled at his silliness.

Jimin looked between your eyes and lips before setting his hand strongly behind your neck. He made you feel secure and cared for. He kissed you and started to roll his hips.

Jimin kept his kisses tender, just like the thrusts. You’re always mind boggled about this man’s power of making scenarios like these feel incredible romantic. Having him close to you is always so intimate, different from the times you’ve had with others.

Your fingers tugging onto his hair made him pick up the pace and the kisses evolved into sloppier ones but Jimin wouldn’t deepen them so you did. You let your tongue in his mouth which he took gladly, hands on the back of his head and neck, holding him close to you. You stroked your fingers in his hair and felt his smile on your lips when he moved his hands to caress your breasts.

Jimin set his hands on the counter and moved onto kissing your neck, having put more focus on his lower body connecting with yours.

His mouth didn’t muffle your moans and heavy breaths anymore, you let them echo around the room. It fueled him on. He wasn’t afraid of you hearing him either, his grunts came out on every thrust up until the door handle turned.

You snapped your head at it when the attempt of getting in was followed with a knock. Jimin however set his hand on your mouth and hardened his moves, he wasn’t going to stop.

He watched your expression while your moans resonated against his palm. He enjoyed the way your eyes twitched with satisfaction, he bit his lip and his pupils widened.

Jimin moved closer and placed his lips next to your ear, “I’d love to hear you moan for me. Maybe scream my name…” he whispered.

He knew what to say to you to make you melt under him. You’d want him to hear how good he made you feel.

He had a need to gratify you. You noticed it at the very beginning. He’d work his hardest to make you want him, to make you come for him.

Jimin traced his thumb around your clit, spreading your wetness allowing him to caress it with no friction, running his finger in an up and down motion. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead when your moans became heavier and more frequent he pressed harder on your clit. The euphoric feeling finally passed through your body, making you clench around Jimin. He rode your orgasm for a few thrusts before cumming himself, shooting his load in you with a profound grunt. Both of your breaths filled the room as you tried to catch them.

He kept his movements smooth, making his best effort to ride your orgasm before cumming himself. He listened to your whines and felt you tremble around him, he couldn’t help it any longer.

He let out deep groan when he released himself into you, still pumping for a second before stopping and pulling out.

Jimin pressed his lips on your forehead and gave you a kiss before pulling up his trousers. He smoothed down the hem of your dress and hopped on the counter next to you, setting his arm around you while trying to calm down his breathing.

”What now?” You asked, fiddling around with the ring on your hand.

”Are you nervous for us?” Jimin read you like an open book, ”We can now get that loan you talked about. ”

”What do you mean? You said we can’t get one.” You stopped and turned to look at him.

”That’s before we get married. I’ve been to the bank to talk about it. We have enough money for a downpayment from my car and now I have a job at my old school and -”

”The dance academy?” Of course, how did that slip out of your mind. You’ve seen him dance and he confessed that he is a trained dancer as well, just that no one else has believed in him.

”Yup.”

You sighed and averted your gaze back to ring, ”Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

”Things got in the way but now everything is getting better. We’re getting married, I have a job. We can buy you a cozy little house where we’re raising our children.” Jimin set his hand over your tummy and you turned your head to look at him. ”Did you think I’d really miss all of the signs?” He laughed ”You’ve been throwing up every morning yet you insist you’re not ill. You won’t drink alcohol. And your breasts…” he deepened his voice and winked.

You smacked his arm with the back of your hand and huffed. He chuckled and took your hand in his, ”We have a lot to learn but we’ll make it.”

It never crossed your mind that you’d get to live a life you wanted. It was obvious to you that you were married off and did what you were told. You ended up going against your own morals when a man you had never seen before approached you but it bloomed into something beautiful. Life isn’t going to be easy from now on but the worst was left behind a while ago, the best part of it is getting to share it with Jimin. The pieces are slowly falling together.

A/n: Thank you for reading, remember to drop a like and reblog. Tell me your thoughts on this series, it’ll help me better the content im delivering.

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le-petitmort · 6 years ago

Text

Part II – This thing is about to be a thing

In one-point-four seconds I came to the realization that I am quite literally…the dumbest motherfucker ever. First, I never got her digits. Second…I never got her digits. Disgraceful. Where was my situational awareness? It was akin to a scrawny defender putting pressure up court on the opposing team’s guard, not paying attention and running smack dab into a pick set by a seven foot chiseled like a bronze formed by the hands of Donatello, NBA center. Basketball metaphors…get used to them.

Anyway, it knocked the wind out of my sails. The reason being is that I had formulated this grandiose plan for her to make the first move beyond the first move. To engage the conversation. Open the forum. Get the small talk out the way. Allowing me to pitter patter and tiptoe my way past the threshold of awkwardness and straight to the glory road of getting to know her intimately.

By intimately, I’m not talking about straight to boom, boom, out go the lights carnal skullduggery complete with passionate wet kisses, heavy petting and cock to pussy communication. I was angling for dinner first. Not wine, dine and sixty-nine dinner either. I had it built up in my head that I was going to treat this one like a lady. Later on, I could whisper filthy invitations in her ear that would make her coo, as my hand deftly slid up her thigh towards paradise. Getting to that point would be the hard part. Or maybe not.

Maybe, I had put this particular pussy on a pedestal. Perhaps she was a cum guzzling cock whore who jumped bed to bed trolling for fat cock in the ocean of fuckery that is Brooklyn?

Mayhap, she was one of those chicks who secretly delved into her passionate side by stroking the kitty by the light of her iPhone to kinky images on tumblr. Trolling for virtual cock with selfie side boob action, a toothy smile of seduction and a user name like…say…wantonbabygirldreamsandtequilamemories.

Perchance, all that was completely off base and she was raised right by her parents. A pristine catholic girl with of heart and mind of gold, devout in her love of our lord and savior Jesus Christ who would be spending good Friday getting ashes thumbed on her forehead…or whatever it is Catholics do on that religious day. I’m agnostic so, I have zero idea and I highly doubt she’s Ms. Goodytwoshoes since I had already noted in passing that she likes a smoke and a cocktail in the evening. Plus, she wears those fancy stocking that scream “unwrap me Daddy and see the present beneath”.

Let’s get back on point. This is how much I’ve thought into her. The epitome of pussy on a pedestal syndrome. Now, we’ve had an actual conversation. Albeit, a very short conversation. Brevity is sometimes good…except when you don’t get the digits.

The face to face was going to have to happen. Overcoming my fear of ineptitude and delving into my inner rico suave. A little more toned down though, than an unbuttoned white shirt to the navel, smooth talking lothario schtick. But, more than simply me. Yep, this girl has me all sorts of fucked up.

You’re probably wondering, “what’s with all the self-loathing, dude?”. I admit it’s got to be a bit of a turn off so, here’s the back story. No, I am not a virgin who sprawls across the couch in my jockey’s eating flamin’ hot Cheetos whilst penning dirty poems to lewd images on tumblr under a username such as…bigdongdaddysearchingforhootchiecocksluts. I’m also not the kind of man who walks into a room, drawing in beautiful, leggy, big busted vixens like steel to a magnet. I’m somewhere in the middle.

A relationship failure who gets too wrapped up in his work. Which can come off as neglectful to a significant other. But, I’ve had a plan since I was eighteen that I’d be retired on a beach in Mexico by the time I was forty, with my gorgeous wife and two adorable children playing in the sand as I sip a corona and reminisce about all the good times.

You see, I like plans. I don’t like flying by the seat of my pants. Life is analytical. Meant to be linear with a point A, B, C and onward. Peaks and valleys are for the weak. Which is why, when I first spied my dream girl promenading down the crooked sidewalks of Williamsburg, I stopped the initial urge to go in for the kill and went with formulation of a process. Fucking up in love multiple times will do such things to a man.

The plan was off though, for now. I wasn’t going to be able to slap another ”call me, maybe” note on her morning coffee to pique interest. That was already done. Mutual admiration and quite possibly mutual eye fucking were already in play. She had said it herself! Not so much in those words. But, I’d been noticed. How had I not noticed her noticing me? I really am daft at this shit…or maybe I need a lightning bolt of confidence in my life?

Is this moment it? Is that all I needed was the knowledge that there was a connection from across the room that I hadn’t felt? Was there truly distant simpatico? Was kismet closer than the vacuum of my unsure, fearful mind? Do we already have a thing for each other?! Holy fuck. These are the questions whirring in my head at 5 AM. Just like the ceiling fan spinning full speed above my bed. I’m one hundred twenty miles an hour of jubilation and angst. As much as I pride myself on a linear lifestyle, I climb to the mountain summit and hurl myself into a canyon of doubt with every passing second spent thinking about her.

I can hear the city coming to life. The traffic beginning to snarl. The metal clank of bodega doors rolling open. A single bird stationed on it’s perch singing.

I should be ambling into my office, coffee cup in hand starting my so-called work day. Instead I’m counting the minutes before I jump in the shower, clean up and go finish business with my future paramour. Yes sir, I’m forcing myself to project a dose of swagger. Laying here, mean mugging like an NBA power forward who just euro-stepped his way to a thundering game-changing dunk. I’m a winner, baby! Shelve that pitiful shit, bruh. You da man! Get fuckin’ fired up!

Which is why I basically pimp walked my way to the coffee shop when the time came for action. Outfit: casual. A hoodie from my alma mater, jeans with a strategic knee rip, green Nike air force ones on my feet. I popped straight through the shop door towards the familiar blonde at the counter like I owned the place. Ya boy iz in da house! Woof, woof, woof!

“Large straight black and a skinny latte, please.” I winked, expecting she’d question why I was getting two drinks instead of one.

She went straight to brewing and giving me the inflated total. “Twelve even. Name, please.” Ok, babe, maybe you don’t understand that lives are about to change in mere minutes. A whole cosmic galaxy is about to open up. Astronomers like Neil Degrasse Tyson will be talking about the cavalcade of stars falling out of the sky because two lips met at an overpriced local coffee shop in Brooklyn. Guess I’m getting ahead of myself there.

“Stephen…with a P.” I responded.

Apprehension and giddiness course through me. Giddiness seems unmanly but, my excitement isn’t. I’m bouncing heel to toe as our drinks magically appear before me. I check my phone one last time. Knowing her punctuality, we are currently at T minus 2 minutes and counting. Ps. I am not a stalker…to reiterate.

I grab the steaming drinks and fly towards the door, nearly tumbling over a shorty with her nose buried her phone. No time for apologies, I must nail down a cozy table on the sidewalk. I want this first meeting to be something the entire five boroughs of New York stops in awe to witness.

But, there she is coming through the door just as I reach for it. The coffees are in one hand and I can feel them about to crash right into her. I swivel my wrist, going for the save. No fucking way am I flinging a skinny latte across the object of my forever affections. Fuck no. Shit. There it goes. Whoa…steady as she goes. Eye widening panic! Boom goes the dynamite! My fingers grip the cups harder and safely held. Crisis averted.

Cool and casual like that. “Here you go Iona.” I handed over her drink with a smile.

“Iona?” She looked at me puzzled.

My eyes darted, alarmed. “Uh, yesterday…when you made your order here. Uh…you told the cashier your name was Iona?” Now it was time for my own quizzical. “Your name is Iona…right?”

She blew out a breath. The kind that shoots upward, blowing a dangling strand of her bangs from her rolling at being caught in a fib eyes. “That’s a thing I do. To sound exotic.” She gave a quick shake of the head and nodded to the counter. “I change it up every day. Glenda, Marion, Billie Jean...Iona. Whatever I’m feeling like that day.”

Her hand casually reached for a true introductory shake. “My real name is Tuesday…and I already know you’re Stephen…with a P.”

My smile was contemplatively wry. “Isn’t Tuesday an exotic enough name already? I mean…I’ve never met a Tuesday.”

“Yeah, well, a girl has to have many faces. One must stay intriguing and beguiling.”

“I’m intrigued and beguiled.” I shot back. Somehow feeling comfortable in my skin for a change.

The corners of her lips curved. “Mutual.”

Relaxation immediately struck. My entire being at ease. A wordless infinity.

“But, I’m sorry Stephen. Much as I’d like to sit down and get to know you, I have to be to work in five minutes. I’m all about a strict schedule.” Nice! She really is perfection.

“I completely understand that.”

Tuesday fished a hand into her oversized tote, withdrawing a business card which she handed over. “I neglected to leave you my number last night. I was a little jittery over it all…well...you know.” Our eyes locked. Mesmerizing. “Will you call me for dinner?” She questioned as if there was some sort of doubt.

“Absolutely.” I opened the door, leading her through. Two fingers steadied at the small of her back. Feeling a response as Tuesday’s back comfortably adjusted.

She turned to me on the street, one last parting moment. Words breaking apart the sweetest lips I’d ever laid eyes on. “Thanks for latte. I like a man who gets me coffee in the morning…cliché, I know.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

Tuesday paused, giving thought to one last message. “Just so you know…I don’t do personal calls or texts during the work day. So, don’t bother. I’m married to my career. I have a plan.”

I gave the thumbs up. Fucking perfection.

-bart 4.20.2019

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