#love that it’s always ‘stay here pay off your debt save your money’ and then they wanna get upset that they have to pay more for something

[klienearschlock]

ripping my eyes out rn

[dreamyvill]

On purpose -2

Roman reigns x oc

Lauren is handling her ex-boyfriend from colleges divorce, he and Lori embark on a journey that proves how things happen for reasons. Either hers or his will it work out this time.

Her thoughts are slanted and this is somewhat proofread.

Previous part

This was my last case as a divorce settlement lawyer before I returned to being a prosecuting attorney. When I first went to law school it was to be a criminal attorney but when I graduated I was desperate to get out of debt and get a job so I settled into a smaller firm that paid well and was able to pay off my debt a few years ago but over time every last case became my last until the next one came along. I meant it this time Joe Is my last case and hopefully it's open and shut.

Making my way into the next conference and meeting I had with Joe walking down the long white minimalist halfway, with bright white lighting and pieces of furniture here and there and a mixture between abstract and a kind of Picasso. Opening the big gray painted white oak door laying eyes on the tall, brown eyes that I hadn’t seen in damn near twenty years, his hair was wrapped in a military style bun with his salt and pepper beard and he smelt more than heavenly when he reached in for a hug before we broke apart. I watched him drink in my grown woman's body. I hadn’t always had the curvy of curves but after college my grown woman body really settled in and I was more than in love with myself.

“Hello Joe, can you give me a bit of background or insight into your marriage over the last few years?” I said sitting down getting right into it sitting himself across from me and the polished oak table that matched the door. Looking back and forth between Joe and my pen and notepad as I waited for him to answer the question.

“Hi Lori, I'm doing great thank you for asking, haven't seen you in a while but that's okay.” he said sarcastically, having a conversation with himself using a bland tone before seeing my face and sitting up clearing his throat. “It was amazing the last few years but i've been working a lot between the traveling and long distance she couldn’t handle it and wanted to divorce about three years ago but I wanted to save us and suggested counseling and that i'd cut back on working and for about seven or so months it worked and everything was blissful but then I got an amazing storyline and it projected my career up and i started making more money but then i was way for way longer and we barely got to see each other and a few months ago she served me and said it was over and she didn’t want to try again.” he listed I wouldn’t dare and say I knew him because he’d changed so much since since id last seen him but i could see sadness in his eyes when he listed off the last few years with his wife Juile.

“Okay so what do you do for work?” I asked, jotting everything he’d just told me.

“I'm a wrestler, including endorsements of at least five million more if I book a lot.” he told me

“Okay and your wife wasn’t able to travel with you?” I asked him looking up.

“No, she gets sick in a car long distance and she works as a trauma surgeon so it’s hard for her to take time.” he explained watching me write it down, before asking my next question i made sure to make direct eye contact with him. “Did you at one point or another cheat on your wife with anyone whether that be emotionally or physically? I need you to be very honest with me.” I asked, waiting for something to change to tell if he was lying. At this point Joe had spoken with firmness in his tone and kept his answers short but detailed.

“No, because i was working so much i was too tired for sex at the end of most days.” he said staying firm with his tone and maintaining eye contact not seeming nervous at all.

“Okay and I don’t expect you to know this but did she at some point cheat on you in any way?” I asked keeping the same vibe, not one of tension but honest and open.

“No, she didn’t” continuing to answer firmly.

“Okay, and during the counsouling what was the conversation like?” i said counting to ask my normal oeping questions.

“Same things i just said working long and late and she felt like we weren’t married anymore and she felt neglected.” he reiterated

“And finally do you have any children?” I asked him

“Five, two set of twins four and six and a older daughter who just made fifteen.” he said making my eyes slightly bulge out of their sockets.

Damn

Hearing his deep chest laugh

“Sorry its just damn anyhow is there anything else i should know?” I asked him.

“No” he quickly gave

“Okay we’ll be intouch and figure out numbers and settlement later it seems like you both are ready to move on, this should be finialized by nexty month.” I said walking him out the door wanting to get the day over with.

Finally getting home just after ten o’clock I was beyond worn out and itching for a bubble bath, unlocking my front door hearing the automated voice announcing my arrival, my mother was standing in my kitchen over the stove.

“Momma, whatcha doing here?” I asked her sitting my briefcase down and stepping out of my heels my height dropping as I took them off one by one. Standing over with her hands in her hips looking at me some kind of way.

“Is that how you speak to someone let alone your momma?” She said with her ‘fix yourself tone’.

“Where Joe?” She asked looking behind where I was sitting and into the walk way.

“At home probably” I said standing and looking through the pot seeing chicken that hasn’t been fried yet as well as red beans with sausage and rice on the stove.

“I told you mama we’re not just going to fall out of the sky into a relationship, I’m just his divorce attorney.” I told her leaving the kitchen to go into my room and take my bath for bed.

Turning the faucet on and filling the tub floor with bubble solution slipping out of my clothes and into the water feeling the water warm and the bubble form on and around my wet body. Taking in a deep breath peacefully before my momma busted into the bathroom.

“Momma!” I said frantically gathering the bubbles to cover me before she smacked her teeth at me and with a wave of her hand said.

“Girl I’ve seen every crevice of your body you ain’t special.” She said sending a small ping to my heart but nonetheless shaking it off.

“That doesn’t matter, momma I’m grown you can’t do that.” I pouted at her. “God why does she always make me feel like a child”

“You worried about the wrong things you need to worry about how you gonna get Joe back, he’s doing more than well for himself with his play fighting.” She pointed

“What happened to this all being immature and besides that was a long time ago.” I said sinking I to the bath wanting her and this conversation to stop.

“Girl money is forever don’t be dumb now I’m going to finish the food and be on my way since you wanna act like you don’t care about nobody.” She said with an attitude walking off. Which made me sigh and just lay there and enjoy the warmth.

Getting out of the tub sometime later I dried my body off and did my nightly routine, slipping into a big tee-shirt before dipping into the kitchen for some food seeing a plate made and everything else cleaned up. Eating my food I thought about yet another guilting conversation with my momma.

I didn’t understand why she flipped from mommy dearest to getting like that. Finishing up and putting away my dish I slipped into bed and allowed sleep to take me.

-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Grey Zone 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, age gap, bullying, toxic parental figures, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your parents has never been good, and that with a family friend takes a strange turn(goth!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: It's a Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. ����

You’ve always been the kid at the table of adults. Even now, legally of age, you feel like the same child forgotten on the sideline. The most acknowledgement you get is from your father when you thoughtlessly lean an elbow on the table or slouch. Sometimes, you think the fact that you’re still breathing is a disappointment to him.

“Thinking of converting the garage…” your dad says, “or we’ll wait till the kid is out and do something with her room.”

You don’t react. It comes up a lot. When you show him your pay cheque, he tells you exactly what to do with your money.

How much you should save so you can get out of his house. You’re not left with much else as he takes interest for your tuition; which he’s kindly allowed you to hold off on paying back until you complete your degree. It’s better than most people deal with, better than some debt collector chipping away at your credit.

“You’re a fucking busy body,” Mr. Hansen chortles as he stirs around with his spoon. You’re not a fan of the dish either. “You ever put any of that energy into, I don’t know, fucking your wife.”

Your spoon hits off your bowl but you try not to show your shock. Your father chokes and your mother guffaws drunkenly. Mr. Hansen is crass but usually when he doesn’t know you’re listening.

“At the table?” Your father huffs.

“He has a point…” your mother mutters.

“What? We’re all adults? I’m teasin’ you, Ray,” he insists, undeterred by your dad’s hot glare, “I’m just thinking out loud and there’s a tension here. Someone’s not getting fucked.”

“Lloyd, my daughter–”

“Oh, so you do know she’s here?” Hansen scoffs, “she’s grown. She can hear the fuck word a few times.”

Your father sputters, speechless. For once, he has no reprimand at the ready. He is a man who always has his way faced with another who can steamroll any refusal.

“Whatever, I was gonna ask you something important,” Hansen diffuses the conversation with the shift in tone, “I bought a lake house up north. I’m not handy, you know that. Not in that way,” he chuckles and your mother giggles into her wine.

Your father sighs and sits back as he lifts his chin, crossing his arms as he squints at his guest. That look doesn’t work on a man like Hansen. You look between them, waiting for either to explode.

Hansen smirks and sits back, mimicking your father’s posture but keeping his arms open. He braces his thighs as he puffs out his chest. You never noticed before the way his shirt perfectly fit him, clinging to his well-toned muscles.

“I’ll pay you. Same as any contractor. And you can bring the family to enjoy the lake,” Hansen counters, “enough for you to continue tearing this place apart.”

“Hmmm,” your father rolls his tongue under his lips.

“It’s a good idea,” your mother slurs, “it’s been forever since we went on vacation.”

“You just got back from Malibu two weeks ago,” your father chides.

“I mean, as a family,” she leans heavily on the table, her finger hooked on the stem of her wine glass, “I love the lake,” she looks as Hansen, pouting flirtily, “I just bought a bunch of new swimsuits.”

“Well, it gets pretty cold up there. Even this time of year. It’s why I bought the place. I hate the heat.”

“Oh, you seem to handle it well,” your mother winks.

Your father brings his hand down on the table, causing every dish to tremble. “I’ll think about it, Hansen. But you gotta think this out, materials and all that.”

“Zoning’s taken care of. All that paperwork bullshit,” Hansen says surely, “seems like it would be a good opportunity for you to get away and let go.”

You peer around the table. Your mom leans back in her chair, chin in her hand as she watches your father. Hansen takes his spoon again and smoothly stirs the bright broth. Your father shakes his head.

“Like I said, I’ll think about it.”

🖤

Despite how often you attract unwanted leers and looks, you have a knack for disappearing. As the adults leave the table, you clean up, fading into the background but not quite fitting into the pristine aesthetic of the house. Most of the bowls still hold a decent amount of the fishy bouillabaisse. It tasted fine enough but who likes that much fish.

You dump each and start washing out the dishes, putting away those pots and pans you dealt with before dinner was served. If you don’t do it, your mother won’t, and your father will chuck a fit about a single dirt dish left in the sink. So you go about the task, earbuds in, nodding your head along with the music.

Your dark nail polish flakes off in the warm water as your scrub with a sponge. It’s fine, it’s cheap. You want to try the new mystic blue you got anyway. You set a bowl in the rack and nearly scream as you feel a squeeze around your hip.

You splash water through the air as you spin to face your accoster. Mr. Hansen stands close as he holds an empty wine glass. Your mother’s lipstick stains the brim. You reach with a dripping, shaky hand to pause your music with a tap.

“I didn’t hear you,” you gasp.

“Oh? I thought you were just playing hard to get,” he twirls the glass, “your mom’s off to bed. Face down.”

“Um, okay,” you reach for the glass but he moves it out of your reach. You furrow your nose and retract your hand.

“So…” he wiggles the glass thoughtfully, his eyes clinging to you, “what do you think?”

“About?”

“The lake house.”

“Er, I don’t know. If dad wants to…”

“I don’t care what daddy wants, what do you want?” His blue eyes gleam, the dark outlines feeding the lustre of his oceanic irises, “seems like no one’s ever asked you, sweetheart.”

You shrug.

“Could be nice,” you say. You don’t get your hopes up. If your dad accepts, you think he’ll somehow manage to leave you and your mother behind.

“And… if dear old daddy did say no, and I asked you to come anyway…”

You blink, confused. Why would he do that? He laughs at you.

“Think about it,” he hands over the glass, “this place is a drag. Young girls like you need that distance. To find yourself.”

You don’t know what to say or think. You really don’t understand what he’s offering. You don’t get where his sudden interest in you came from. Mr. Hansen was only ever peripheral. He was there to give colour commentary and needle away at your father’s patience.

“I don’t know,” he backs up, “maybe they don’t make swimsuits in your style…” You hold the glass close to your chest, caught like a deer in headlights. “But it’s a private lake.” He pokes his tongue and winks before spinning on his heel. “No rules…” he calls over his shoulder as he passes through the door.

You shudder and turn back to the sink. You plunge the glass into the water and swirl it to rinse the residue of wine. Hansen is just like that. He’s always looking for a reaction. You suppose you’re old enough now that you’re a new victim for his jokes. That makes more sense. You’ve always made a good target.

You tap your earbud and drown out your racing thoughts with the music. Just finish this up and you can go hide in your room.

🖤

You shut off the kitchen light and quietly pad through the house. You climb the stairs as an eerie silence permeates the space. Mr. Hansen must be gone since your mother turned in. She often didn’t end the night without some grand finale.

As you near your bedroom door, you notice that it’s slightly ajar. That damn mechanism. Your father can fix every part of this house except for that. You sigh and push it open as you enter, stopping short as you find a shadow standing by your bookshelf. The coffin shaped furniture holds more than just books but some crow statuettes and deathly trinkets.

The glow of your lamp casts a purplish light over Mr. Hansen’s back. He hasn’t heard you. He closes the book in his hand and slides it between the others. He pauses and takes the deck of tarot before he can knock it over with his hand. He shuffles through and you flip on the overhead light.

He turns, unshaken by your entrance. He keeps the cards fanned out in his hands. He smiles at you.

“I never really looked close at these sorts of things,” he says as he runs his thumb over the emperor card, “they’re pretty.”

“What are you doing in here?” You ask.

“I got lost,” he says coolly, “can you read these?”

He smoothly pushes through your chagrin, sidestepping your question. That’s annoying but he’s older and he’s a guest. You didn’t need him ratting to your father about your attitude.

“Yeah, they’re really just for fun though,” you near him and reach for the cards. He claps them into a neat deck and keeps them away from you.

“I like fun,” he says, “can you read mine?”

“I don’t know. It’s late–”

“How much?” He asks curtly.

“What?”

“I’ve seen those ladies down at the market. What do they charge for a reading? I’ll pay you double.”

“No, it’s–”

“I’ll buy you some new boots or something,” he barters.

“Why?”

“I’m bored. This place is boring.” He says. You won’t ask why he doesn’t just leave. You inhale and clamp your lips tight. “You must hate it. So… I wanna know my future.”

“I… fine,” you shrug, “shuffle the cards.”

You look around. There’s really no good place to do the reading. He shuffles the cards and strides by you, brushing against your arm. He sits on the side of your bed. Alright, well, you guess that’s fine.

You move your laptop and books and climb up, smoothing the blanket before you. You sit on one legs and keep your fingers on the duvet.

“You need to ask a question?” You say.

“A question?”

“Yeah, like something about what you should focus on at work or in your relationships,” you explain, “something to guide the cards.”

“Hmm, oh, well, the second one.”

“Okay… any specific relationships?” You prompt, “like family–”

“With you.” 

“What?”

“Me and you.”

“Uhhhh,” you drone, “that’s… alright. Focus on that then.”

You put your hand out. He hands you the cards and you fan them out. He watches, tilting his head as he brings his knee up onto the bed and faces you straight on. The strangeness of the situation does not escape you. It sears down your neck.

“Pick three cards.”

He does so easily. One, two, three. Most people would take their time but he is always straight to the point. You point to where he should place each card. The first there, the second next to it, and the third above.

“Alright, so,” you set the deck aside, “this is basic. The first card represents you, the second would be the other person.”

“You,” he smirks.

“Sure,” you say, “and the third, would be both together.”

“Hmm, interesting,” he rests his hand on his thigh, tapping his fingers.

“Alright then, flip the first one.”

He does as you say. You consider the card.

“Temperance, reversed,” you announce, “it means you like excess, you often go to extremes, so much so that your life often lacks balance and harmony.”

He nods and clucks, “I can’t disagree.”

“Second,” you direct him.

He flips it.

“Nine of swords, upright,” you utter. You let the air linger.

“Oh, what does that mean?”

“Anxiety, or sadness, dread,” you don’t look up at him, “so this other person… me, I guess, has a lot on their mind to worry about.”

“Wow, the cards really are magic.”

You wince and look at him. Is it that obvious?

“Final card.”

“Oh, I’m excited,” he turns it over, “what does fate have in store for us?”

“Page of wands, upright; represents exploration, excitement, and…” you pause as you search your mind, “freedom?”

“Sounds like a good time to me,” he snickers.

“They’re just cards,” you quickly gather up the trio. It means nothing.

“Do you read palms?” He asks as you put the cards with the rest of the deck and shimmy to the edge of the bed.

“No, I… no.” You eke out as you let yourself down to the floor, “look, thanks for humouring me but I’m tired–”

“Hard to tell with all the eyeliner,” he remarks.

You give him a sharp look. He smirks as he turns both legs over the edge of the bed and leans back on his hands. It’s almost a boyish expression.

“I’m pretty beat myself,” he says, “cozy.”

He lets himself fall onto his back. You put the deck back on the shelf and chew on the situation. What the hell is going on? He’s invading your space, mocking you, and you’re just letting him.

“Maybe you should go home–”

“Pretty big bed–”

“I kick in my sleep,” you go to the end of the bed and he turns his head towards you. You see that devilish gleam in his eyes.

“You bring a lot of boys in here?”

“What?” Your voice wilts out, barely rising.

“Easy enough to sneak em through the window. Got that tree right out there, they could just–” He motions with his hand, “zip right in.”

You let your anger burn through. You get that from your father. You fight not to let it win over but it rises so hotly that sometimes you can’t.

“I don’t appreciate this.”

“What do you mean?” He rubs his chest.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he insists.

“You are. This is my room and I…” you swallow and ball your fists, “I want you to get out.”

“Sweetheart, really, I’m not–”

“You are. You can’t say or do anything that hasn’t been said or done before. I get it, okay? So please, I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.”

He blows out and turns his head straight. He deflates and reluctantly pushes himself up. He tidies his hair as he stands.

“You’ll see, baby doll,” he struts lazily to the door, “the last thing I’m doing is making fun of you.” he looks back at you, his lips slanting, “I’m out for a different sort of fun…”

You storm towards him and shoo him out the door. He cackles and you slam the door behind him. Out. Get out! You feel like you need to cleanse your room now. You hear his rocky laughter on the other side as he lingers, his hand hitting the door before dragging down it.

“Sweet dreams,” he calls through the door.

He pushes off, the door jolting in the frame, and his footsteps peter away. You huff and face the room. He never told you why he was in there. You cross to the bed and drag your laptop and books off. As you do, you smell a trace of his cologne disturbed by the movement. You turn away and stack them on your desk.

You are ready for the day to end, even if tomorrow holds little promise.

[rems-writing]

Act like a brat, get punished

Pairing: mobster aged-up!Jongho x non-idol!Hongjoong

Genre/trope/AU: smut/strangers to lovers/mafia AU

Wordcount: 2,995 words

Rating: mature

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

“I’m sorry, my son. You now belong to this man.”

“We had no other choice! We didn’t get the money in time so this was our best option.”

Hongjoong was tired. He was so tired. He knew his parents were poor, but he didn’t realize that their poverty was so bad that they had to resort to borrowing money from the mafia. The chilling discovery of this reality happened today. He was working four jobs. Three mundane 9 to 5 jobs and one small business that involved his designing skills. Hongjoong loved fashion. It was the only thing he had going on at this point. After the death of Beomjoong, he had to pick up the slack and become the main breadwinner of his family. His dad was a retired electrical engineer while his mom was a part-time worker at a food stall located in the mall just a block away from their cramped apartment. As he stared back and forth in between his parents and the man they owed money to, he sighed heavily. He took off his hat, wiped his sweaty brow, pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration, and simply walked past them to retrieve his things. The man Hongjoong’s parents owed money to looked at the young man in shock as he came back downstairs with a dufflebag packed to the brim with almost nothing. Just a few clothes he reformed, a laptop for online fashion school, his sewing machine, and a few stacks of bills he had stashed away for an emergency fund. His head was hung low and he threw the bills at his parents’ feet. 

“Y-You’re not going to fight back? Or beg to stay?”

“There’s no point. Now come on. Let’s go. I’m sure you don’t want to be late or whatever.”

As Hongjoong brushed past the people that gave him life (he no longer viewed them as parents), he looked at the man wearily before nodding his head, indicating that he’ll be near whatever expensive car or creepy van the man drove in. To say it puzzled the man and broke his heart at the same time was an understatement. After Hongjoong shut the door behind him, the man’s resolve hardened and he scowled at his parents. 

“Look at you two. You basically let him walk out! He didn’t fight, beg, or compromise with me. He just… left. How does it feel to know that your entire family is gone? Only this time… you’re the cause of it?”

Hongjoong’s mother broke down in tears while Hongjoong’s father bent down to comfort her. He looked at the money in disdain before looking back up at the man. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, the big watch on his left wrist sticking out like a sore thumb. The father was about to say something when the man held his hand up. 

“Save it. You two now have money. And from the looks of it, your youngest son saved enough to last you guys a few years. Maybe even more if you’re wise about it. Despite being so… drained of life, he thought about you guys. Always. Consider this debt paid off.”

“B-But don’t we owe you so much more?”

“Eh. You do. However, seeing as he oh so willingly walked out of here without your consultation or mine, I think you guys can pay me back by living with the consequences of your actions. How does that sound?”

The father shut his mouth, knowing the man was right. The man clicked his tongue before adjusting his sleeves and bidding farewell to Hongjoong’s parents before exiting their apartment. He tuned out the mother’s wails that grew louder as he walked away, knowing that this is all she can do. After walking down the steps to the lobby (he refused to take the elevator. He claimed he was too cool for that), he stepped outside and breathed in the crisp air of the city’s nightlife before focusing his eyes on the man before him. 

His heart ached painfully at the sight. 

Hongjoong had his head hung low, his dufflebag was hanging loosely from his hand, tear streaks stained his handsome face, and his sniffles could be heard every now and then. The man cautiously approached him and tucked his fingers under Hongjoong’s chin so he could lift his head and observe him some more. 

Hongjoong didn’t even flinch at the strange touches he was receiving! He truly was tired of it all. 

“You can put your things in the backseat.”

Hongjoong nodded and the man unlocked the door to his expensive Mercedes so Hongjoong could throw his stuff in the back. He let out a quiet ‘Excuse me’ as he squeezed past the man and got into the front seat so he could get himself situated and mentally prepare for what was about to come. Once he was buckled up, the man went to the driver’s seat and closed the door beside him before buckling up and starting the engine. He felt extremely horrible for the younger man’s situation and he felt like he had to say something. Instinctively, he grabbed Hongjoong’s hand, making a note of the single painted nail on his left ring finger. For someone who liked to rough people up using his own bare hands, his touch was gentle. 

“Hey. Look at me. Please.”

The man’s voice was gentle and Hongjoong looked up at him. Despite the hollow expression on his face, the man could tell that his eyes conveyed so much sadness and despair. He squeezed his hand gently and offered a small grin. 

“I’m truly sorry that things had to be like this. How about we make a deal? Just do what I say and I’ll ask nothing else from you. You are free to do whatever you want. I won’t track you down, I won’t have any of my men stalk you, I won’t stop you from doing whatever you need to do, and most importantly… I won’t stop you from running away. If my men do track you down and harm you, I’ll kill them myself.”

Hongjoong’s heart skipped a beat as the man made his situation less of a living hell by putting this offer up on a silver platter. A small part of him doubted his words though. After all, he was part of the mafia. However, the geunity in his eyes and his words washed away that doubt momentarily. After thinking about it some more, he nodded firmly. 

“Ok. I’ll take it. And I can tell you’re a man of your word so… I guess I trust you.”

The man felt relieved that Hongjoong took the deal and his grin grew bigger. Hongjoong  couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like if his round cheeks got squished. He shook away the thoughts and expressed gratitude towards the man. 

“You don’t have to thank me. You didn’t ask for this life so let me at least provide some sense of normalcy for you.”

“Still though. T-Thank you, sir.”

“Jongho. Call me Jongho.”

As the two drove off to Jongho’s mansion, Hongjoong looked back at the building complex he used to call home. With a calm mind and a rapidly beating heart, he awaited the new chapter in his life to begin.

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

Living with Jongho wasn’t so bad! He stuck to his word and allowed Hongjoong to live his life like he normally would. Except for a few rules he made. 

Always come home on time.

If you are invited to dinner, never say no. 

Always sleep on time. 

Focus on fashion school and growing his fashion business. 

These rules didn’t sound as horrid as Hongjoong made it out to be. He practiced timing himself on studying for school and going home after he was done (he had a habit of holing himself up in one of the studios after hours on campus), he ate well, his insomnia was crushed by his newly adjusted body clock, and his fashion business was growing more famous as each day passed. 

It was all thanks to Jongho. 

In addition to Hongjoong’s lifestyle becoming healthier, he found himself falling in love with the older man. At first, he was afraid that Jongho would lash out and he would lecture on how he doesn’t even like men and that he wouldn’t go for someone as young as him. However, after a long night of heartfelt confessions, crying (Jongho let out his bottled up emotions), steamy make-out sessions, and passionate sex right on Jongho’s work table, it’s safe to say that the two were madly in love with each other and they embraced their bond more than ever. Currently, they are getting ready for dinner with some of Jongho’s work colleagues. Hongjoong has met the respective partners of each one, but he was closest with Jung Wooyoung, the fiance of San, Jongho’s older brother. As he thought about what type of weird conversation these two were going to have, he was snapped out of his thoughtful daze when he heard his boyfriend’s voice call out to him. He turned around and had to stifle a laugh. 

Jongho looked absolutely fucking hot in the suit he picked out for this evening. The black button-up shirt clung to his muscled body deliciously, his tie was tucked into his vest, the black slacks he wore defined his meaty thighs, and his dress shoes were polished to perfection. He looked like a god! There was only one problem.

The vest was way too small for his body. 

“That thing is ready to burst at the seams!”

Jongho chuckled nervously and his heart swelled with adoration as he heard Hongjoong giggle loudly. He saw the younger man approach him and watched as he carefully unbuttoned the vest with his dainty hands and a laser-type precision. Hongjoong made sure that the vest came off without it ripping apart. Finally, he shrugged it off his body and smoothed out any wrinkles the vest left behind on his shirt. Jongho willed himself to not grow a boner under his boyfriend’s touch. Hongjoong took a step back and observed him some more before nodding firmly. 

“I think the look is fine. No need to add a blazer or anything else. Just throw on your winter coat and you’ll be all set.”

“This is why you’re the fashion expert.”

Hongjoong giggled as Jongho grabbed his waist and peppered kisses all over his face before pulling him into a hug. He felt himself become flushed at the mere sight of Jongho’s beefy body practically swallowing his tiny frame whole. He had to push him away after a while, causing Jongho to pout. Hongjoong booped his nose and squished his cheeks. 

“Come on, lover boy! We don’t want to be late.”

Hongjoong skipped away and Jongho chuckled to himself before sighing happily and following after him so the two of them could make it to dinner on time.

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

Dinner went great. Everyone had a good time, ate until they were full, drank until they couldn’t anymore, and paid for it all before leaving. While the six of them were left to explore the city, Jongho was driving at an ungodly speed back home to the mansion. Once they made it, he grabbed Hongjoong, hoisted him over his broad shoulder, tossed the keys to one of his servants so they could park the car, and clambered upstairs to their bedroom before throwing Hongjoong onto their shared bed. 

“Did you think that was funny? Hm? Teasing me? Purposefully flirting with Seonghwa?”

Hongjoong shrugged, which made Jongho a bit angry. It didn’t help that Hongjoong had a dopey smile on his face, which was quickly wiped off when Jongho took off his belt and grabbed the tiny man’s wrists before securely tying him up so it was snug enough that he couldn’t shrug it off yet he didn’t feel pain. Jongho gripped Hongjoong’s chin and kissed him harshly. While one hand was keeping Joong’s head in place, the other ripped away his shirt with terrifying (and arousing) strength. His fingers delicately traced the hem of Joong’s skirt before pulling it off quickly yet carefully. He cursed under his breath when he saw Joong clad in nothing but a silver body chain and a silk thong. 

“Well well well. You’re really just asking for it, huh?”

“I did this just for you though.”

Hongjoong pouted slightly, but Jongho never wavered. He can act as cute as he wants. He’s going to be punished like the brat he is. He released Hongjoong’s head and quickly snaked it down to his bound wrists before adjusting him so he could bend the younger man over his lap. With his ass raised in the air, his fingertips lightly skimmed over the curve of it. Jongho looked down at Hongjong, whose eyes were blown with lust. 

“You’re going to count to 10. If you slip up, we’re starting over. And do not give me attitude. Or else I’ll go harder. Understand?”

“Yes, sir~”

The way Hongjoong said that and batted his eyelashes up at Jongho caused the man’s cock to strain painfully against the hard confines of his slacks. He was going to ruin the man below him. He soon raised his hand and swiftly brought it down onto one of his asscheeks. The sound echoed in the room and Hongjoong let out a yelp. 

“One!”

Another smack. 

“Two!”

Another. 

“Three!”

Another. 

“Four!”

As another one was delivered, Hongjoong swore he felt the marks starting to form since Jongho never took off his rings when he spanked him. 

“Five!”

Another one was delivered and Hongjoong just knew that he wouldn’t be able to sit after this. 

“Six.”

Hongjoong’s voice wavered yet Jongho still heard the word loud and clear. He wanted to stop there, but due to the mischievous look in his eyes and the way he bit his lip, it was a sign to keep going. He soon delivered another one. 

“Seven!”

Two more. 

“Eight!”

One more. 

“Nine!”

Last one. 

“10!”

Using his strength, Jongho lifted Hongjoong by the hips and made the younger man straddle him so he could kiss him fiercely and passionately. Hongjoong moaned into the kiss and he flinched a bit when Jongho’s fingertips skimmed through the reddened skin of his ass. He was soon laid down on his stomach and he felt Jongho’s plush lips kiss the reddened skin before he tore off the thong he was wearing. 

Oh. 

Jongho cursed loudly when he saw Hongjoong wearing the new buttplug he got him a few weeks back. It was his reward for being so obedient and never once breaking any of his rules. He dug his fingers into Hongjoong’s hair and yanked him backwards so his bare back was touching his clothed chest. Hongjoong moaned at the contact and Jongho’s lips ghosted over the shell of his ear. 

“Did you wear this just for me?”

“Mhmm! Only for you, sir!”

“You’re such a good boy. Fuck! You make me so happy.”

Jongho angled Hongjoong’s head so their lips could meet once again. During this heated kiss, Jongho tore off his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt quickly before discarding it. The same went for his pants. When he was finally bare, Hongjoong felt Jongho’s huge cock be pressed up against his ass. Despite having sex with him before, Hongjoong will never get over how shockingly large Jongho was. Hongjoong felt his back hit the mattress and cringed slightly at the buttplug being pulled out from him. The cringe was soon replaced with pleasure as he felt himself being filled by his mobster boyfriend. As soon as Jongho bottomed out, he settled inside Hongjoong for a minute before pinning the tiny man’s bound wrists above his head with one hand and squeezing his throat with the other. He pulled out slowly until the tip was only in before slamming back into him harshly. 

“JONGHO~”

Jongho chuckled darkly and began pistoning his hips at a fast pace. With each slap of skin, a moan slipped out of Hongjoong. They grew louder and louder with each passing second. Jongho then tilted Hongjoong’s head up towards the ceiling without letting go of his throat. Hongjoong’s eyes widened at his own fucked out reflection staring back down at him as he was getting dicked down. 

Jongho recently installed those mirrors and now they were being put to good use. 

“Look at you, darling. Being stuffed full of my cock like the bratty slut you are. God I love everything about you. From this body chain to the way you scream my name. You just love being fucked by an older man, huh? I can tell since you’re clenching around me so much. Go on. Say it!”

“F-FUCK! I LOVE IT! I FUCKING LOVE IT! SIR, PLEASE! PLEASE LET ME CUM! I’M SO CLOSE!”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Jongho rammed into Hongjoong a few more times before Hongjoong let out the loudest moan and felt himself spill all over his body. Jongho reached his climax as well and stopped so he could empty himself inside Hongjoong. The two of them were breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes lovingly before Jongho pulled out of Hongjoong. He carried the younger man into the bathroom and ran him a hot bath before lowering him into the tub and climbing in afterwards. He wrapped his arms around his waist and the younger man snuggled into his chest. 

“Best. Sex. Ever! I got to thank Wooyoung and tell him that this was worth it.”

“So Wooyoung put you up to this, huh?”

“Well… the body chain and buttplug were my ideas, but Wooyoung was the one that suggested that I acted like a brat.”

“I see. In that case, I’m glad that Wooyoung fed you that idea. You should be bratty often. I love it when I go rough on you.” 

“Me too, Jongho. Me too…”

[charlotteiscrying]

i always figured you wanted something real, because that’s what you told me. i thought you wanted something more than skin deep, you know that whole reason why you fucking other girls didn’t count as cheating to you. i allowed it, because i thought we had something more than just skin. i’ve always understood sex is just a verb, i believe that so much because ive never once been looking for only sex. yes you have a huge dick. but i love you for other reasons, for how you treated me, how you cared for me, kept me safe, protected me. how you helped me though my toughest times and inspired me to change n get through them. how you looked at me, the way that i can feel the energy radiating off your skin even when you aren’t touching me. how you hugged me, how you were able to be vulnerable around me. how you’d talk in ur lil jit voice, how whenever we saw a lil kid you’d tell me how bad you wanted a mini-us. how you gave me access to the version of you that no other human has, or will ever, see.

i asked you so many times to tell me why you loved me. to give me a reason, to say something nice so that i could get my mind (that was screaming at me to give up on you) to relax, to rest for at least one night. i wanted you to reassure me that you love me for the way i’ve helped you, for what i’ve done for you, for me caring n fighting to stay in your life thru all this. for me being the one n only person you’ve ever been able to open up to in this world. for me helping you through your toughest time in this life, when your ex told you she never loved you, it had always been fake. that crushed you. i saw the way you texted her for months after that. it took you six months of having me in your life to “get over her” enough to “date” me. if one year of fake with her caused that much damage to you, think of what two years of fake codependency, love, and drug addiction with you has done to me ? and, unfortunately, i don’t have a charlotte to come love me outta this.

i wish so bad i hadn’t told you how every man in my life has always only looked at me for only my body and what i have. i wish i hadn’t told you what i truly wanted. to be loved as the soul inside my body. you listened to exactly what i wanted, and you shoved your demon body into the cookie cutter shape my brain needed to see in order to feel love. you took residency up in my mind, just to take notes on what would get my hopes up, n what would crush them even harder. you’ve lived with me for the past two years. 700+ days, living in my family’s home, with me, because you had nowhere else to go, and i love you. even to this day, even after you’ve hurt me this bad, i’d rather let you live with me than know you’re homeless out in that snow right now. i bought you over $100,000 in drugs, because i’d rather sell my pussy for you than see you withdraw, and i love you. you crashed my bmw, you saved my life in the process, but i committed insurance fraud to keep you outta trouble. had i told my insurance the truth id have a brand new car right now. but id rather commit a huge mf crime (while im on probation for the second time) than put you in $40,000 of debt for crashing a car you didn’t own, that you were driving without insurance.

now im stuck here: no car, no money, no job, no you. you promised me so many times that once you had a job id never have to work a day in my life again. that just wasn’t true- when i flew out to you on my birthday you lied to me about having to pay for your mom’s cancer surgery and chemo, that’s why you couldn’t help pay for my flight, the rental car, the hotel. i should’ve known, i should’ve ended it right then and there. my ex lied to me about his dad being in the hospital, dying from cancer. i knew that was bullshit the second it came out his mouth. he was just saying the buzzword “cancer” because he knew my dad had died from cancer when i was seven, and he wanted sympathy outta me, so i’d give him more money, drugs, whatever he wanted. yet i realized you lied to me about paying for your mom’s chemo, to try and prevent me from flying out to you, and i didn’t blink an eye. my brain was screaming at me, but i ignored it.

am i stupid ? or were you just that good of a liar ? would anyone in my place have fallen for you for as long as i did ? i seriously think that all of us, everything, has just been you manipulating me to get what you wanted from me. once you took everything i could physically give you: you dipped straight tf out. you know what i said before wasn’t entirely true. i’d much rather see you outside, soaking wet and freezing cold from this snow, than EVER let you in my house again. if everything was fake, you never once meant it any of those times you’d say i love you, or when you would actually say the nice things i wanted to hear, you’re actually a demon. and i know you’d take that as a compliment- it should be an insult.

[jaybird-fanfics]

Burnt Out |Chapter Six|

Once again you were back at Dabi's place, though as how run downed the place was, it felt safer than your apartment right now. You didn't know if Ryuji will stay waiting for you there or if he would be out searching for you. That was all the more reason to stay here. For starters, Ryuji didn't know where this place was. Not to your knowledge at least. And another thing, Dabi was here with you. So even if by some chance you were to he found, Dabi would handle it. Though, you didn't prefer that outcome. Ryuji didn't seem like much at first glance. He looked like any other well dressed jerk with a giant ego. But Ryuji could be very dangerous if he wanted to be.

People knew not to mess with him. They all knew the consequences if they were to do any of the sort. And that goes for anyone, men, women, heroes and villains alike. One night when one of your fellow workers had gone "mysteriously" missing. Apparently she had stolen money from Ryuji, and when he found out about it...well, you never heard from or saw her ever again. Ryuji told you about her, but never what happened to her. But, you knew, he had something to do with it. The look on his face, the tone of his voice gave it all away. You could help but feel bad for the poor girl. She probably did it because she was in a similar situation as you. Forced to pay off an impossible debt to Ryuji. She was left with no other options, and did what she thought would help her.

It's too bad she was found out. You only hoped it was quick, whatever Ryuji had done to her...

The other girls knew it was Ryuji too. There was just no hiding it. They all learned somehow, not to underestimate Ryuji. He was someone to be taken seriously. He was someone who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty if he must. They all feared him, and for good reason. They were all trapped, they would never be able to escape him. Not unless they were ready to die trying. And unfortunately, some were.

"Your spacing out."

Dabi's voice caught your attention. You look over at him. He was leaning against the wall nearby the window, he seemed to have been watching for something. "You alright?" He tears his attention away from the window to focus on you. You shrug. "Just...anxious I guess?" You mutter. "The last time I tried getting away from him..." You trailed off, not wanting to remember that day. "It didn't end well." Dabi pushed himself off the wall and walked towards you. "He's not going to find you." He tells you. "I promise." You wanted to believe him, you really did. Though, you had never hoped for anything for anything for a long time now. Any hope you had was extinguished, there was no point in hoping. No one was coming to save you,  not then. So why would it be any different now? Dabi could try, you knew that much, he could try to help you.

But ultimately, it would be useless. In the end, you would always wind up right back to Ryuji. He would have you until the day you died.

"What's that look for?" Dabi asked you. You didn't answer him. You were afraid if you tried to speak right now, you'd just end up crying. Dabi could see the shakiness in your hands, the light tremble of your shoulders. Anger filled Dabi. All this time he wasn't there, you were being hurt. And he was unable to help you. Help. That almost made him laugh. He was a villain, villains don't help people. And yet, once he found out about your situation, he wanted nothing more than to help you. To save you.

You were his best friend after all.

"Another secret admirer? Well, aren't you just the heart throb of all of Japan?" You could hear the sly tone in his voice. You roll your eyes before taking the love letter that was taped to your locker and tucking it away in your school bag. "Very funny Toya." You say with fake annoyance. "You know how I feel about this kind of attention." You learned to get use to everyone's eyes on you, thanks to your new found popularity. Wanting to be your friend and all. But you could do without the ones who begged for your attention and love. Especially through these kinds of methods. Toya just chuckled as he leaned against the lockers. "Yeah, but you got to understand. Anyone would kill to be in your position. Tons of friends, smart, pretty, having people fall at your feet left and right." You shake your head before closing your locker. "It's not as great as it sounds. Most of my "friends" aren't as sincere as they appear to be. And, then I have to deal with the creeps who like me. You remember what happened last time."

Oh yes. The time Toya had to scare a guy off for basically stalking you on your way home from school. "Right. You're so lucky to have me in your life." He says with a dramatic sigh. "What would you do without me?" You swat his arm lightly. "Don't make it sound like I'd fall apart without you. Buuut, life would be kind of sucky without you in it." Toya nods in agreement. "I know."

"Oh shut it Toya." You giggle. It was true though. Life just wouldn't be the same without Toya in it. He made the worst days into the best. He was the light in the darkness. He made you feel like you could do anything, be anything. He made you hopeful for your future.

But that was a long time ago.

That doesn't mean he won't be here for you now though. He couldn't promise the future. He couldn't promise that he'd always be around. But right now, you needed him more than ever, and he knew this. Therefore, he would stay.

"He's never going to hurt you again." Dabi tells you. He gently takes hold of your chin, making you look up at him. "I won't let anyone ever hurt you again."

"You don't know that." You say with a weak voice. "Someway, somehow, I'll be hurt again. There's no escape for me, there's never been." Tears began to stream down your face. "Why...How did things end up like this? What could we have done differently?"

"We?" Dabi asks.

"You weren't suppose to turn out like this Toya!" You say, voice breaking. "I wasn't suppose to be doing what I've been doing. And you...you had such a bright future ahead of you. You were good. You've been nothing but kind, and caring. And now...now you're this. I don't believe that it's nothing, or coincidence. Something must have happened. What happened Toya, for you to become this?" Dabi was silent. He understood why you were angry, upset by what he's become. It was such a big leap, a huge turn of events. And it all seemed to have happened so fast. Of course you'd be upset. But, you hadn't the slightest clue about what it was like for him back then. What hell he went through.

But you deserved to know. You deserved to know the truth.

"It might take me all night. But I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."

[shirokumoko]

Sometimes I wonder what exactly I'm doing in my life. I'm gonna be 36 years old, I really have nothing to my name besides an old truck that's starting to have problems.

I don't even live in my own because housing in California is too effing expensive. The fact I'm this age and living with my parents is absolutely depressing.

I work at a warehouse job with pay to barely scrape by while this company makes trillions each quarter.

I struggle to save up money to even put a down payment for a better vehicle cause I'm busy paying off debts for my credit cards. My ambitions had always been.. shit.

The only time I had ambitions for anything is when I would draw. I love drawing. It was my passion but my parents always said; 'oh that's nice for a hobby but it won't put food on your table.' Being told that so often growing up, I believed it and stayed away trying to find something to do in life.

I never went to college, my grades always been shit. I never knew what I wanted to do career wise in life. I wished that I just stuck to my guns and persuade drawing. After all, how were cartoon movies and TV shows made? How were children books made?

Drawings, art.

But now I'm here at a dead end job, with a future I don't really want to think about but i know I have too and its... depressing.

[robogart]

Hi! It's ok if you're not comfortable awnsering- but I was wondering how much you make a month from art on average? I'm going into my second year of art school and I'm getting worried about how lucrative online independent work would be. You seem to have a system that I could see myself enjoying, specially compared to the usual instagram and youtube artists you see thriving from online work. And if you don't want to give out numbers: Does it make a living or do you need/work a second job? Ty <3

Hey! This is a great question and I’m going to apologize in advance because it’s going to be a LONG answer! Mostly because I think this is a great way to shed some light on just more “regular” type circumstances for art jobs things! But I hope I can answer this question sufficiently!! 🙏💖

Okay - so I don’t feel comfortable saying how much I make (I’m superstitious that if I share it in a public space it will be dashed IMMEDIATELY) but I can definitely talk about logistics!

So to preface everything with the simple answer: I DO make enough now to have a living! It’s a SMALL living, but I’m able to focus just on my artwork for now! Which is honestly still wild to me and I AM waiting for the rug to be pulled out from underneath me at any given moment (I am throwing some salt over my shoulder as we speak, just in case)

Now I just want to talk about some general insight points about my current situation/how I got to this current situation:

I have only JUST been able to move out (I’m 28 now)

I live in a shared apartment with my friend (fate was SO on our side and this has been a whirlwind 2.5 months omg)

I have student loans to pay off ($400/month! Gross!) on top of rent/life payments. If you’re in this boat, always keep it in mind!

For 7 years after college, I was working on art (commissions, personal, etc) and also working “part time” (30+ hr work weeks so lmao not really but for employer-benefit reasons 🙄) This is for 7 years after school! It took a bit to get here!

I only had to pay a small rent when I was living at home so while it took 7 years (underpaid, family circumstances, physical/mental health woo!) I WAS able to save enough to move out

most days I can still hardly believe I’m here @ w @;; and it’s a constant working process to figure out how to stay here as well! I work 8-10 hour days, 6 days a week. 

And if you’re like me, I don’t come from money, so my parents aren’t in a position to help and I have student loan debt. This has informed a lot of my adult life!

That said, I have been lucky to be in a family with a steady lower-middle class income AND ALSO in a pretty stable/functional family situation so that I was able to move back home for a while to save a bit of money. Not everyone has those circumstances to plan financially! But if you come from a more secure/affluent financial background, some of this might not apply to you - which is fine too.

My advice would be to first and foremost make a budget list for yourself (love my google sheets! I have MULTIPLE budget lists lmao) 

Make a budget list that covers what you would NEED to earn each month. And then from there, make a sheet that shows what you DO earn each month from art!

Try to track that income for at least 3-4 months of steady work!

If those numbers continue to meet up, then I would say that’s a green light!

If they don’t meet up - maybe look into some part time stuff! Which, like I said before, can be REALLY solid. And it’s always solid at least for a steady line of income, which is great! 💪✨

And remember to treat your job like a JOB! Clock in and clock out! It’s just a job! Not your life! Keep doing you! 💖 Too many times have I given 100% on jobs when it really should be like 80%! Save your energy for yourself too!

And if you are able, think about moving back home. Saving money is ALWAYS a solid choice. Give yourself some time to figure shit out and get your ducks in a row. 

I’m only able to do what I can now because I lived at home for 7 years and worked pretty non stop! (working in the morning to afternoon at my first job, coming home doing chores, and then working from 8-11 on art) 

BUT, always know, that we are NOT the same person!! You’re going to have a different path from me and so will many others! But in case you wanted a general picture of my circumstance, I’m hope this helped!

And as always, do NOT feel pressured by my advice here! 

Advice is just to help INFORM your OWN decisions! Never to make them for you! 💖

I feel like I both talked about A LOT and I’m ABSOLUTELY missing something from here! 🤔 So I apologize for such a novel! 

But if you or anyone else reading this thinks of a question about this type of stuff, let me know! I try to be pretty transparent about this since I feel like I’ve only seen a lot of advice from people not with students debt so it’s always been a little frustrating 😔💦

This work IS possible, but it was a lot of work to get myself here! And it’s still a constant dance of figuring out new things (which is equally exciting and a bit stressful) ^ w ^;;; 👏💖💖💖

But thank you for reading this far omg! I hope it was a little helpful at least! ; w ; 🙏💕

[autisticcassandracain]

Recently finished another re-read of Robin: Son of Batman, and I just cannot get over how good specifically the first six issues are. Like I don’t just thing they’re good by DC Comics standards; they’re good by actual literary standards. 

The thing that really elevates R:SOB #1-6 for me is the way it examines redemption as a concept. Most DC Comics are good because they examine concepts within the DC universe in an interesting way, be they characters, teams, or worldbuilding elements. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that! You can create perfectly good, solid stories that way. But to me, in order to elevate something to truly great, it needs to have a theme it explores. 

Robin: Son of Batman could’ve easily been a monster-of-the-week romp with Damian returning a new item from his Year of Blood every week, while his relationship with Maya progresses. And this story would’ve likely still been good, but it wouldn’t have been great the way R:SOB is right now. 

Because R:SOB isn’t just a story about Damian’s character development; it’s a story about redemption, and what that means, exactly. All three major characters within the first six issues tie in with this theme in some way. 

Damian, the main character, has done horrible things, but is already well on his road to redemption. He’s already a hero, and he’s already saved many people. His quest to return the items he stole during the Year of Blood is, in essence, just yet another step on that road he’s already been travelling for a while. 

Maya, the deutagorist, stands at a crossroads in her life. Her father has been killed, and all she has left is his legacy as an assassin and her anger for his murderer, Damian. She hasn’t killed yet, or done anything else that crosses a point of no return. She doesn’t yet need a redemption. But she’s considering crossing that line anyway, because she feels like there’s nothing else left for her.

Talia is a bit more complicated, if only because the terrible things she’s done were primarily there because of bad writing and character assassination. To their credit, the R:SOB writers seemed to have realized this, and literally sucked the bad writing out of her via black pearl (which is still the funniest retcon method I’ve encountered). Nevertheless, regardless of why, in-universe, the bad things still happened, and Talia takes responsibility for them. She decides that she needs to redeem herself, and begins that journey by trying to make amends with her son, who she inadvertently harmed but loves to pieces.

And all of those perspectives (that of someone on the road to redemption, someone just starting it, and someone who doesn’t yet need it) hang together so beautifully! None of these arcs exist separately, they all feed into each other and strengthen the others. 

Damian harmed Maya, but wishes to redeem himself; while he doesn’t actively fight for Maya’s forgiveness, it’s clear that it would be good for him. It would be proof to himself that he can change, and that not everything has to always stay bad. At the same time, though, he doesn’t want to forgive Talia, who harmed him. When he’s in the role of Maya, he reacts with the same anger she showed. And it’s through this realization that he starts to see that Talia is doing the exact same thing he is, and why he is eventually willing to give her a chance. Because Maya’s willingness to forgive the harm he’s done to her helped him, and he wishes to extend that same help to his mother.

Which is already fantastic, but what REALLY makes it great is the statements it makes in regards to how redemption is achieved. Damian begins his quest to return the items he stole in the Year of Blood in an attempt to right the wrongs he’s caused, but it quickly becomes clear things aren’t that simple. We get the first glimpse of that when we learn Ravi’s backstory, and how Damian allowed him to be blinded. We see his regret for that decision, in the room surrounded by stolen treasures he aims to return, and realize some wrongs simply cannot be righted. Some decisions cannot be reversed.

Later, we learn that Maya has maintained her father’s assassin contacts, and Damian urges her to break them off. This is, again, a way in which their arcs intertwine; Damian knows what the results are of following in your family’s murderous footsteps, and wishes to save Maya from making those same mistakes. Maya in return, breaks off her contacts. Unfortunately that contact is Deathstroke, who isn’t exactly happy about that.

When Maya is attacked by Deathstroke over the money she (supposedly) owes him, Damian is given a choice. He set five million aside to donate to the philanthropist whose clinic he destroyed, so that he could rebuild it. This is part of the way he is attempting to undo his wrongdoings. But Deathstroke wants five million to pay back Maya’s debts, and Maya isn’t some past wrongdoing. She’s a living person, right here, right now, in need of help. And Damian decides to help her, and gives Deathstroke the five million.

The question posed to Damian here was essentially: What is more important, undoing your past wrongs, or doing present rights? Damian’s quest to right his wrongs is noble, certainly, and can definitely have positive effects for others, but it’s also, ultimately, for himself. Does soothing his personal feelings of guilt outweigh the need to save others? Damian decides that it doesn’t, and follows through on that. In essence, you could say he is literally giving up a piece of what he perceives to be his own redemption to give Maya a chance at avoiding the need for it.

And that’s how Robin: Son of Batman builds on the concept of redemption, and makes a statement on what it is. It states that 1) Some wrongs cannot be undone, no matter how much you wish they could, and 2) On the road of redemption, it’s much more important to do things right now than it is to undo past wrongs. Apologizing for what you’ve done wrong is important, certainly, but it’s not more important than actually doing good in the present.

It builds on and reinforces these statements time and time again, both with the examples I just gave, and also with the revelation that Damian should not return all the treasures he stole, since that would aid the Darga in destroying the world. Again, it faces Damian with the choice to undo his past wrongs, or do present rights, and he again chooses the latter. In addition, it also again states that not all past wrongs can be undone, no matter how much we wish they could. 

Robin: Son of Batman isn’t just good because it’s a great examination of Damian’s character, but also because it questions what redemption even means to begin with. The willingness to examine redemption as a concept from several angles is why it’s still by far Damian’s best redemption arc to date, and why it holds up not just as a superhero comic, but a piece of literature.

[dragon-of-dreams]

A Debt to pay

My Masterlist

Pairing: dark!mafia!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: noncon; breading kink; threats, murder, readers parents are dead, reader getting hit across the face, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Seariously, this is some really dark shit with some astonishingly soft sx... No idea how that happened... 18+!!!

No mentions of y/n, and reader is kinda an off because she has a back-story but no physical descriptors are used.

Summary: Your dad dies unexpectedly and you take over running the family cafè. The costs for your daddy’s funeral bring the head of the Barnes family to your doorstep as you struggle to keep up with the payments for a loan you had no idea your dad had taken out with them. You get “offered” an alternative method of payment.

a/n: this was a request by the lovely @oneoftheprettynerds

I hope I did it justice! Thank you for being the most patient person in the world, when Covid, life, exams, life and so on and so forth got in the way of your wish!

Prompt: Can I please get a dark mafia bucky or peter with noncon and breeding kink? With a side of people hitting on reader

 Wordcount: 2,800

 In all seriousness, you had to consider yourself lucky. Most people in this small city had it worse than you. Most didn’t have their own business, certainly not at your age, and most would never have enough money to even dream about that. Your town had the habit of sucking money out of people faster than they could make it and as of late that was also the case for you.

           After your dad had died unexpectedly in a car crash, money had been tight, really tight. You’d never known how fucking expensive funerals were and his drained all the savings you had, just before you’d managed to scrambled together enough for a community college education in business. Now you were left an orphan in your early twenties running a café on only the knowledge you’d learnt from your dad with no prospects of an education. Now you were as stuck as everybody else in town.

           What made matters even worse was the bill you’d gotten two weeks after the funeral. A bill from the one company in town nobody wanted one from. Rich men running successful businesses on the backs of the honest town’s people by draining their money. The mafia. Sharks in suits.

           According to the bill your dad had borrowed money from them 10 years ago. Your best guess was that he had needed it for your mother’s funeral and had never told you. Be that how it may, you didn’t know how to pay that bill. So you asked for time and put in extra hours, keeping the café open til late at night.

           You hated the extra hours. Not only because you got less sleep and had to work so much more and couldn’t afford to hire more employees but also because the later it got the more aggressively people hit on you.

           You hated them. All those men coming in once the sun set, calling you their sweetheart like you were property and grabbing at you and you having to smile and flirt because you needed their tips. Desperately. And yet it seemed to make no difference. There was just no money to be made in this town.

           Bucky Barnes, the head of the Romanov family had given you two months to come up with the next payment, and you knew that you’d end up dead in a ditch with them ceasing your café if you didn’t make it.

           So you smiled and joked with the moms coming in in the mornings and afternoons and flirted and swayed for their husbands at night. When you were in your little apartment above the café after you finally closed you usually cried yourself to sleep. And all throughout the day you would see him. See Bucky fucking Barnes watching you. At first you thought you were imagining it, but he was driving past your café in way too regular intevals, and would even occasionally take up one of your tables. You always sent other staff to serve him, you couldn’t bare to go to him, but his cold blue eyes never left you.

           Over those two month it became abundantly clear that you would never manage to come up with $2,000. And when one of Bucky’s men came in on the Wednesday before the Friday the payment was due, you thought of the 1,200 bucks you’d managed and wanted to cry.

           You knew the man, you’d gone to school with his younger brother Peter who had been a royal pain in your ass, having provided a glimpse of the harassment by the men you now faced every evening. Still you smiled at him: “Steve, hi, what can I get you?” ignoring that you had already flipped your sign to closed and where moping the floors.

           “Hi y/n, a coffee would be great, if you still got some” Steve answered while inspecting your café like he already owned the place.

           “Sure thing!” You tried to sound chipper, but the strain in you voice was audible, as you went behind the counter and got the machine going.

“Sugar? Milk?” you asked, with your back turned to Steve, hoping to draw out the inevitable.

“Just sugar, thanks.” Steve sounded gruff and distant and you knew you’d lost. He probably already knew that you wouldn’t be able to pay. He had accompanied Bucky a bunch of times, never ordered anything, just watched and listened, as Bucky drank or ate. The men had attracted stares. Not only because they were mafia, but because for personified devils, they sure looked like gods.

As you set his coffee before him he asked: “So what can I tell my boss to expect on Friday?” You stared at Steve in his perfectly tailored suit in harsh contrast to the homey but ultimately grimy café surrounding him as you decided on what to say. He looked amazing, and you hated him for it.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you. He was getting impatient. “I… I have a little over half.” You muttered and looked down at your hands, twisted tightly together. “My daddy’s funeral cost so much money, and I” you were interrupted by Steve’s fist hitting the countertop, making you flinch. His rage was pouring out of him so suddenly, taking over everything else. He seethed: “Safe your excuses, little girl. Just make sure to get the money. Bucky isn’t as lenient as I am.” With that, Steve got up from the bar, drained his coffee in one long gulp and left without giving you the chance to beg. You would have. You would do anything now if it meant saving your life. ‘Lenient’, you thought. How was any of this lenient?

           On Friday morning, you didn’t want to get up, much less open the café, but you did both. You put a notice outside that you would close earlier tonight, so Barnes and his henchmen wouldn’t scare off your customers and then you went to work.

           The entire day felt like molasses. Time didn’t move at all, it left you fidgety and nervous. You screwed up more orders than you were willing to admit and then suddenly time jumped and it was 6 p.m. and the sun was setting and you’d closed the café down, pulled all curtains closed except for the front door and were sitting there, waiting. What for, you didn’t know.

           At 6:30 a black limousine came to a stop before your café and Barnes and Peter got out. Which you decided was a good sign. Surley if they were to kill you, they would’ve brought some muscle, not lanky Peter… Bucky Barnes wouldn’t get his hands dirty with you, would he? Or was that what Peter was for? Did he still have to prove himself in the company?

           As Bucky entered you wished it would just end now. To your sheer horror, Peter stayed outside, blocking the door, leaving you all alone with the man you feared most in this world. He looked just like everytime he’d previously entered your café. His suit fit perfectly and you could see the muscle beneath. He was astonishingly beautiful. If he only were so on the inside as well, you mused.

“Hi sweetheart,” Bucky drawled as he approached you, “Steve told me you don’t have my money.” You shrunk in on yourself, but nodded, as Bucky came to tower over you.

“That’s not good, angel, not at all. Why don’t you come out from behind the counter and we sit down and talk about it, huh?”

All you could do was nod. “What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Bucky teased as he grabbed you by the elbow and led you to a boot in the corner of the café, way out of view from the front door. His touch was startingly kind. You had prepared for pain, but were met with kind support. Your brow furrowed.

“I…” You looked up at him. “I g got $1,300. I know that’s not enough, but”

“Shh.” Bucky murmured and pushed you down onto the bench, took of his suit jacket, hung it carefully over a nearby chair and then caged you in by sitting at your side. You were trapped and you were shaking with fear.

Bucky was so much taller than you and even through his perfectly tailored black dressshirt you could see his muscles bulging. You couldn’t decide weather you wanted to start sobbing into his chest or punch him in the stomach. “Steve already told me all about that, angel, don’t worry, I already came up with a new payment plan.”

“You’re not mad?” you question, to terrified to be hopeful.

“Well, I am not thrilled, but I’ve always had a softspot for this place. My pa used to take me when I was little. I watched you grow up, you know?”

Hope bloomed like desert rose in your heart. He knew you! He had a connection to you! That surely meant he wouldn’t kill you. You’d figure out the money. Suddenly you were certain that you could do it.

“really? That’s – I never knew…” Your voice was fluttering with hope.

“Well, it’s a small town.” Bucky’s voice was calm and soothing. You almost forgot that you were squished between him and the wall.

“And with me seeing you grow up, and seeing all the other women in town I decided that you would give me an heir to take here. To watch people with, so he too could choose his wife. An heir for me and forgiveness for your debt and a happy home life for you.” Your world stopped spinning. It screeched to a halt.

“What? No, Bucky, I…” Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you close. The arm was tight across you back and stole your words from you as fear spread from every spot he touched throughout your entire body.

“You’re a hard worker, you have a drive for better and higher things. I like that. It’ll make you a diligant mother, you know angel? And that is what I need. A good mother to the boy who will inherit this town, don’t you agree?”

You sit there frozen, unable to reply. Your brain is going a thousand miles an hour trying to find a way, any way, to get away, but before you can do anything Bucky grabs your right hand and presses it to his crotch. He’s hard. The calm demeanour falls off him suddenly as he growls: “Here is how this will go, angel,” he starts to move your hand up and down his crotch, “I will let go of your hand and you will undo my pants and get me ready and then I will have that little pussy of yours on this table. I mean it ain’t romantic, but once you are my little wife I’ll make up for that, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, press your eyes closed and feel him move his hand over the fine cotton of his suit and his hard length underneath, then you force yourself to nod. It’s a jerking, hurtful motion, but Bucky released you hand, as he leans back on the bench, spreading his legs, opening himself up to you.

You want to thrash out, but instead you shaking hands wander to his belt. “Go on, now. we ain’t got all night, darling.” You are tearing up, but do as you’re told. You lean slightly over him and undo his belt first, then his pants. His cock strains against his boxer briefs and you gulp. Bucky lifts his hips and you push his pants and underwear down.

His cock is beautiful. Long and thick and veined and you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight. Bucky notices and smirks down at you. “Now that’s a good girl. Keep it up and I make sure you enjoy yourself!” he whispers in your ear as he guides your hands to his dick.

As you jerk him, you realize that you underestimated his size. Your fucked. Literally. There is no way you’re gonna enjoy this. Bucky shoves his left hand up your skirt suddenly and you freeze until he clears his throat and startles you back into action, while his fingers start exloring your sex.

“You know,” Bucky explains, “I find it helps ladies to go down on a guy before actually fucking. Gets them nice and ready, you know?” One of his fingers slides into your tight chanel, “But with you it seems we don’t need that. The sight of my cock alone made you cream. I knew there was something special about you!” He grins and removes his hand. “We might still have to work on your handjob skills though…” he muses, grips your hand and removes it form his dick, as he gets up.

You shrink back but he pulls you out after him. Finally, blessedly, your panic response sets in any you try to struggle, but Bucky’s hold on your arm tightens painfully and his left hand hits you across the face before you even see it coming and it makes your world spin. “Stop it, now!” Bucky barks at you and you freeze. Your feeble attempts forgotten as Bucky lifts you onto the table and rips your panties off. You start sobbing as he bends your right leg to your shoulder and situates himself.

“Sssh,” he cooes at you softly, “I’ll make it better, baby, just one moment.” His suddenly warm voice lulls you into a false sense of security as you stare into his deep blue eyes. They are bewitching you, and you only feel him push in when it’s too late.

He sheethes himself in one agonizingly long stroke. The pain breaks you out of your reverie, you arch your back and groan. It hurts! It hurts so much, and yet you want more, so much more. “Bucky!” you plead, you sob, you whine and once more there it is, the calm voice of the devil now owning your life, rolling in like the tide washing over you, calming you. “I know my sweet pet, I know, just relax now. Just breathe.” And you do. You can’t help yourself.

Bucky lets out a pained moan as you settle around him, and once your clenched eyes flutter back open, once your back comes back down from its painful arch, the god above you starts to move. Every drag and push is better than the last. He hits home every time. His dick lights up a pathway to your pleasure, with every sharp, hard, relentlessy painful thrust, in time with his pubic hair grinding against your clit. A particularly hard thrust shifts his cock so it hits your cervix and you scream with pain and pleasure. Your arms reach up, your hands burying themselves in his thick hair as Bucky leans in closer to you, bending you in half on that table, and nuzzles at your neck as he starts to hammer into you. Every thrust is pure bliss. You want to feel ashamed, you want to push him away, but all you can feel is the drag and glide of his cock, his pelvis against your clit, his tip hitting your cervix. You are on fire and the coil in your core is ready to explode. The intensity of Bucky’s thrusts never wavers, even as you feel him swell even further as his balls draw up and that tiny change breaks you, your orgasm explodes and you cry out in ecstatic pleasure, just as Bucky falters and shoots his cum in thick long strokes into you. His warmth joing yours as he lazily pumps to stop within you.

You only come back to yourself as Bucky pulls out slowly and you can feel your combined, cooling spend trickle down your legs. He eases your leg back down and kisses you softly as you start crying. “Ssh, darling, you’re alright. You’re done. Your debt is paid and you’ll be my wife in no time, the mother to my heir. You did so good, angel!” He coos sweet nothing at you until you can control your crying enough to speak.

“Bucky, I’m not on anything! What if it really takes?” you whimper, emerging from the fantasy he built up in your head.

“That is rather the point!” He snaps harshly. The calm voice gone as quickly as it emerged. You shiver as you realize the extent of what he said before. He really meant it all… Bucky pulls up his pants. “Pack up your things, lovely, tomorrow I’ll pick you up and you are moving in with me, so I can keep an eye on you!” With that Bucky pulls on his suit jacket and heads for the door, as you struggle to sit up, shaking and crying.

At the door Bucky looks back at you, his voice a lot calmer again: “I’m real happy about our new business arrangement as it ensures you will be staying with me, little girl. If only your daddy would have agreed to let me have you, his car wouldn’t have had to end up wrapped around a tree so your little college fund would go away. Sleep tight now, Mama, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[highways-are-liminal-spaces]

You can avoid this question if it’s too personal, but how do you afford to travel so much? Because I’d love to do what you’re doing.

I get this question a lot and I never know quite how to answer it without a baseline of how much money the person asking has, but I'd say it really comes down to three things. Here comes a novel:

1. Take jobs places you want to be! I spent last summer in Alaska working for the state and my travel was all paid for by my work. I know "get a job" is the most obvious and also challenging advice in the world, but applying for short(er) term work out of your home region can be a really good way to travel. A lot of service jobs in National Parks include lodging as a benefit, for example, and I know a lot of people who have taken jobs as waiters in Yellowstone, for example, and then stay in housing behind the lodges and can spend days off exploring the park. This also goes for seasonal tourist work in places like Alaska and in ski towns in the west, and I know a few people who migrate between seasonal hotel/lift op/bartending/waiting etc. jobs in order to travel. If you have more nature experience or education, tour guiding or field work are also good ways to get paid travel to nature-y places.

2. I consider most of my travel to be very cheap, and here's how I'd say to do that:

Either book things as far in advance as humanly possible (12+ months) or as close to 11pm the night of your stay for the cheapest rates. Often one last refresh of "nearby" motels after 10pm will get you a place around $60/night. If you're doing it this way, flexibility is key, as is the willingness to call it a lost cause and sleep in a tent wherever you can. Book on the same website every time if you can (e.g. Priceline, Booking.com, Hotels.com, etc.) so that you can collect the stamps for your free stay. Freecampsites.net is my absolute go-to for finding camping spots nearby.

Bring a cooler and high-protien food that keeps well so you aren't paying for it in touristy places such as national parks. Peanut butter is a miracle.

Bring a gas can in your trunk for the same reason. Gas markups in parks are insane and minimizing those gas stops will save you so much money.

Buy a National Parks pass if you plan on traveling much, because parks are expensive and often it will get you discounted rates on tours that you don't realize have park entrance fees built into them.

If you're a full-time student, a AAA member, a senior, a military member, etc. ask if there's a discounted rate whenever you can. A lot of student discounts aren't listed! You're not being a bother by asking, and the worst they can say is 'no.' Also, a lot of places with pet fees have discounted pet rates for rescues.

Google coupons/use honey, etc. when booking online to try to find any deals available.

When I'm planning a trip, I like to figure out what the one 'extravagant' thing I want to do is (e.g. a seaplane trip to see bears, etc.) and then book that and plan to cut costs everywhere else. For example, when I go to Iceland, I always spend money on one guided day trip somewhere, and then I stay in a hostel ($20/night), eat energy bars I brought, live out of a single backpack, etc. Packing light saves you a lot of money for plane travel and bag checking, etc.!

3—and this is a much more personal answer—there are a lot of university, state, or federal debt forgiveness programs based on what kind of work you do. I won't be paying any of my student loans back myself because I'll be in the public sector doing environmental work or legal aid, and UChicago is good with its LRAP program.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.”

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[chaoticpuff17]

Baby Mine

ADG Yoongi

Masterlist

Hello my darlings! Just a reminder that all the mc’s in the ADG universe are named except for joon’s! This is to avoid confusion for all of us as the universe expands and the mcs run into each other! Love you all! Thanks for reading! —— chaotic puff

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror tilting her head from side to side as she tried to figure out if it was just her imagination or if there really was a small bump forming on her lower stomach. It had to be her imagination, or just some bloating. Birth control was a major part of her work. Jimin ensured that all of the girls were on some sort of contraception. Babies weren’t allowed. Pregnancies and babies meant that girls went out of commission. No one wanted to fuck a pregnant whore.  

Sen shook her head as though trying to shake the idea out entirely. It was near impossible for her to be pregnant. It was better not to think about it at all, but she’d get a pregnancy test later just to be safe. Jimin would kill her if she was pregnant. She was one of his best girls after all. She brought in a lot of money for him.

“Lola.” A rough voice called from behind her as an arm snaked around her waist.

Lola. It was a fake name to protect her. It was something Jimin had instigated when he’d taken over keeping charge of the girls. For as much of a dick as he could be, he did want the girls safe, and she was grateful for that. Jimin had picked the name himself. Lola from lotus because her name meant lotus. She still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten Lola from lotus, but she appreciated the thought, and it was better than have the men know her real name. She was able to keep that just for her, and for that she was grateful. So few things were hers here. It was nice to be able to keep her name to herself.    

She pasted on a sensual smile and turned to face the man before her winding her arms around her neck. “Leaving already?” She asked looking up at him and tilting her head to the side. “Or are you staying for another round?” She purred moving closer so that their chests were brushing against each other as she placed a soft kiss on the edge of his mouth.

“I have a mission.” He announced sleepily resting his head in the crook of her neck. “RM just called.”

She hummed gently. He liked verbal confirmation from her. She’d learned a lot about his likes and dislikes through the years.

For someone so feared, Suga could at times be a softy, especially after he’d just woken up. She’d learned through the years that he valued his sleep more than anything. Usually if Suga was visiting her, she wouldn’t expect another client for the rest of the night. He’d crash in her bed, and leave in the morning, or whenever he woke up. If the mission had been particularly hard, he’d crash for up to a full day in her bed before going on his way.  

The higher ups took first priority. Even if she’d had another client, the big seven took priority. She’d been lucky enough only to have had to service three of the big seven. Jimin tested all of the girls, but it was Hoseok and Yoongi that visited her regularly, sometimes together, sometimes not. But it was well known among the ranks that she was Suga’s favorite of the girls. She couldn’t count the number of times that Yoongi had come to her in the years she’d been working for BTS.

There were many nights when Suga would appear at her door, and more than once he’d kicked another client out of her bed, but he was allowed. He was one of the big bosses, and no one was going to argue with him. The only one that could have stopped him was RM himself, and so far Sen had been lucky enough never to have met the kingpin. But Suga hadn’t kicked anyone out of her bed in a long time. When it was well known that she was Suga’s bitch, other men no longer came to call. The only one besides him that came to visit her anymore was Hoseok. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of Suga’s wrath, and there were plenty of other girls for them to choose from. Hoseok was an exception. They didn’t mind sharing with each other, and it always made for an interesting night when they were there together. She was left sore for days.

“You’d better get going then.” She whispered running her fingers through his hair in the way she knew he liked. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

He lifted his head, dark eyes scanning her features before he sighed tiredly. “Money’s on the table.” He grumbled leaning his forehead against hers, still sleepy. “I’ll be back after this mission.”

“You always are.”

“Patch me up?”

“You really should go to Dr. Kim for that.” She scolded. “I’m not a medical professional.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t do what you do.” He informed her with a smirk while she rolled her eyes at the suggestive tone of his voice.

He placed a quick, rough peck to her lips, and then he was gone.

Even if he was one of her only clients these days, he at least paid well. All the higher ups paid well, and she had a debt to repay. Well, the debt was repaid now, but she was trying to save up the money to leave this place. It was the debt that landed her in this position in the first place. She could blame her crackhead mother for that. The hag had skipped out of town and left her to pay off the debt. It had taken her years, but she’d finally done it. The next time her mother got herself in trouble, Sen was going to let her deal with it herself. It wasn’t her problem anymore.

She glanced over at the clock. It was way too early in the morning for her to consider running out to grab a pregnancy test, but she was going to do it anyway. Three in the morning was too early for most things, but her job had her keeping weird hours, and both Hoseok and Yoongi were well within their rights to wake her up at any time of the day or night. It was unlikely that either of them would come by for the rest of the night, and she wanted to put that nagging feeling at the back of her mind to rest as soon as possible.

To say that the two lines staring back at her were a shock would have been an understatement. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Those two little pink lines mocked her. The words in the Google search mocked her. Birth control was only 99% effective. Jimin was going to kill her. Suga was going to kill her. He was the only one that could possibly be the father. Jimin and Hoseok hadn't visited her recently, only Suga. But did she really have to tell either of them?

She had enough money to leave. Her debt was repaid. She could hand in her resignation to Jimin and go. She never had to tell either of them anything. She wasn’t showing enough for either of them to see, and if she moved quickly, she could be gone before anyone found out. Besides, she doubted that Suga wanted a child let alone a child from a whore.

Yes, that would be the best option.

She placed a hand over her belly, her mind whirring with possibilities. A baby. She was going to have a baby. Life was full of odd surprises, but this was not one she thought she would ever have to deal with. She’d never even considered being a mother let alone the mother of Min Yoongi’s baby.

“Okay, little dude.” She whispered to her belly. “We’re going to be okay.”

And it would be, as soon as she informed Jimin of her departure, she was gone. But first she actually had to talk to Jimin.

“Sir.” She greeted bowing respectfully as she entered his office.

“Sen.” He greeted leaning back in his chair. “Is everything alright? You don’t usually come to visit me.” He sent her a charming smile. He was always charming, but she didn’t have time to flirt with him today.

“I wanted to inform you of my resignation in person.” It was best just to put it out there.

His small dropped, a frown taking its place as he leaned forward. “Resignation. You’re leaving us, Sen?”

“I paid off my debt. I think it’s time for me to go.”  

“Are you sure about this?”

She smiled even if the expression was strained. She couldn’t let him know that anything was off. “I’m sure. I want more for myself than this, Jimin. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“You have a good life here.” He pointed out. “Suga keeps you comfortable and protected. No one’s going to mess with his girl.”

“I’m not his girl, and you and I both know that this was never what I wanted from my life. I paid my debt. It’s time for me to go.” She held firm her lips pressed into a line as her smile fell.

“Suga will be disappointed to see you go.”

“I’m sure he’ll survive.”

“You’re sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Jimin might have appeared calm, but his mind was already busy thinking over the fall out of her decision. He didn’t even want to think of Yoongi’s reaction. “You’re my best girl.”

“I have one client.” She scoffed. “Two if Hoseok drops by, but he rarely does these days. I can’t be your best girl.” She pointed out leaning forward in her seat to match Jimin’s stance.

“Yeah, but you keep Suga hyung happy, and that’s worth a lot.”

“He’ll find another girl.”

“I’m not sure there is another girl like you, Sen. He likes you.”

She scoffed again moving a strand of hair away from her face as she leaned back again. “He’ll get over it.”

Jimin scoffed, but there was really nothing he could do to make her stay. She had kept her end of the deal and paid off her debt. Unless he planned on kidnapping her, she was free to go, and BTS wasn’t in the habit of forcing women to work for them.

“I’m sorry to see you go.”

“It’s for the best.”

Jimin had been disappointed to see her go. It meant that Hoseok and Yoongi would need to find a new plaything, but Jimin was not looking forward to telling his hyungs that Sen had gone, especially not Yoongi. He visited her almost exclusively. She was his girl, even if neither of them would admit it.

He’d hoped that she would stick around a little while before she left that way she could be the one to tell Yoongi, but he was shocked at the speed with which she’d packed up her life and gone. It was as though she’d never been one of his girls at all, and it left him with the responsibility of telling Yoongi. Unfortunately for him, that moment came far quicker than he would have liked.

“Where’s Lola?” Yoongi asked barging into his office and plopping himself down on his sofa a scowl on his face.

“Lola?” Jimin asked keeping his tone light and breezy.

“She’s not at her apartment. She’s always at her apartment.”

“Ah.” Jimin gulped trying to find the right words. “Well, Sen left. That’s her real name you know. Lola’s just for work.” That hadn’t been what he was going for, but honesty is the best policy, or so they say.

“Left?” Yoongi arched a brow leaning forward suddenly interested.

“She paid off her debt.”

“She did that a while ago.” Yoongi scoffed brushing him off. “She didn’t leave then. Why now?”

Jimin shrugged. “She said she wanted to go. Something about it being time. Sorry, hyung. Jas is in though. You visit her sometimes.” He was hoping that his hyung would smoothly take on a new girl, but he doubted that the transition would be smooth.

Yoongi grumbled under his breath. He didn’t want Jas. He wanted Lola. He always went to Lola after a mission. She tended wounds he didn’t bother going to Jin for. She listened running her fingers through his hair as he told her about anything and everything. She knew more about him than just about anything else. No he never shared details of the business, but she knew him.

Jas expected sex. She expected the infamous assassin of BTS, and while she was good for a fuck, she certainly wasn’t going to be dressing wounds or letting him spend all night and half of the next day in her bed.

He couldn’t help a tinge of resentment as he thought of Lola, Sen. He provided for her. He made sure no other dirt bag touched her, but she left anyway. He and Hoseok treated her well, and she just left. She hadn’t even deigned to tell them her real name, but she wasn’t going to find a better life than the one she’d had under their protection. If she was stupid enough to leave, that was her problem, but he wasn’t about to let her go. She knew too much.

“Should I tell Jas you’re coming by?” Jimin offered already reaching for his phone even though he knew Yoongi would probably refuse.

“Don’t bother.” He grumbled pushing himself up from the sofa.

“Hyung!” Jimin called after him “Hyung!” He knew what was on Yoongi’s mind. He wasn’t a man to share, and Sen’s leaving wouldn’t be taken well. “She’s not in the city anymore.” He announced causing Yoongi to stop in his tracks. “The last time anyone saw her she was entering the airport. We didn’t keep track of where she was going. She’s free to go where she pleases. She’s not one of mine anymore.”

“The airport?” Yoongi asked turning with a scowl. “Where would she go? She doesn’t have any family.”  

“Just her crackhead mom, but I doubt she went looking for her.” Jimin agreed leaning back in his chair. He didn’t like the look In Yoongi’s eyes, but he wasn’t about to stop him if he decided to go after her. If he wanted her, he could have her. He’d just have to find her first.

“You gonna go looking for her?” He called as Yoongi turned to leave again taking note of the tight set of the other man’s shoulders.

“Why would I go looking for a whore?” He spat venom dripping from his tone his eyes flashing.

Jimin watched him go, doubting that this would be the end of it. Yoongi was angry, but Jimin knew his hyung enough to know that that hurt was coming from a place of betrayal. Yoongi, as much as he didn’t like to admit it, cared about Sen. No, this wouldn’t be the end of it.

Sen was happy. She’d found herself a nice little apartment in Busan. She liked living so near to the sea, and she was sure that the little one would love it as well. She’d assembled a nursery for the little dude who she had recently found out was quite literally a little dude. As her bump grew, she collected strollers, blankets, stuffed animals for the little dude, and she was happy, happier than she’d been in years. She was excited to be a mother, excited to start over. She’d built a nice cozy life for them here, and she knew it was going to be a good one.

Her break from BTS had been clean. No one knew about the little secret she was carrying, and they had no reason to keep her, not when she’d paid them back everything that was owed. She still found herself looking over her shoulder though. She was always worried that Jimin or Hoseok or heaven forbid Yoongi was going to appear out of nowhere and see her heavy with Yoongi’s child. She doubted that she would have made a clean break if any of them had known. But this wasn’t their child. Her son didn’t belong to BTS. He was hers, her little dude. They didn’t get to have a say.

Her kitchen fridge proudly held the ultrasound from her twenty week scan. Baby books were littered across her coffee table, along with a book of baby names. Her life had been about survival for so long, but now the little dude kept her busy. He was her life now.

She had enough saved to keep them comfortable for a little bit, but she was lucky enough to find a job in Busan. She was working at a local restaurant. It was owned by a lovely couple whose only son was in college. They took every opportunity to brag about him. It was good work, honest work, and they didn’t seem to mind that she was an unwed mother. They’d also given her a very generous maternity leave.  

It was a good life. It wasn’t much, but it was good. And she only grew more excited as her due date drew closer. The excitement was partially driven by the excitement to meet the little dude, and the growing desire to get him out. She loved him, but he was a pain. Her ankles were swollen. Her back hurt, and she was getting really tired of the way this kid liked to sit directly on her bladder. But it would all be worth it as soon as the little dude arrived, and he was due any day now.

She had everything ready to go. There was a bag packed, and she had a plan in place to get to the hospital. One of the downsides of being a single mom was that there was no one there to help when the pregnancy got rough or to go with her to the hospital when the time came.

She’d debated finding a midwife and doing a home birth, just for the added security of not being in the hospital on the off chance that Yoongi or someone else from her old life had found out about the little dude, but she’d ultimately decided that the safety that the hospital provided for the birth was the better choice. She wanted all the nurses and doctors she could get since she had no family to support her through a home birth, and the hospital had the good drugs to help with the pain. She was a baby when it came to pain, and she was dreading the contractions.

She had to keep reminding herself that it would all worth it for the little dude. And it was. When the nurse handed her her son for the first time, she had never been more in love in her entire life.

He was small, so very small, and all read and wrinkly. His face was scrunched up like an old man’s, and there was something about him that was just so similar to Yoongi when she looked at him. It could have been the old man attitude, or it could have been the tuft of dark hair accompanied by those impossibly dark eyes. It didn’t matter though. Whether he looked like his father or not, she was completely in love with him.

Every sound that he made, every movement, had her enthralled. How could this tiny perfect being have come from her? How could she have made something so perfect? She knew that she would do anything for him, anything at all. Every terrible thing that had ever happened, her mother, the debt, working as a prostitute for BTS, it was all worth it, because it had brought her him.

It was with a heavy heart that she let the nurses take him away to the nursery, but she knew that she was going to need all the rest she could get before she took him home, and it was just the two of them. She would have plenty of long nights ahead of her, she could let the nurses take care of him for one night while she recovered from the birth.

When she woke up some hours later, it was to a dark room and the sound of those soft noises content newborns made. It took her a few minutes to wake up enough to realize that her baby wasn’t supposed to be with her. He was meant to be at the nursery.

She bolted up, ignoring the pain the sudden action caused as she frantically looked around the room looking for the source of the noise. Her frantic heartbeat stilled for a moment as she caught sight of her baby perfectly safe, but her blood turned to ice as she saw who held him.

“Suga.” She whimpered bracing herself against the rail of the hospital bed as she prepared to jump out of bed and seize her child from him arms.

“Sen.” Her heart stopped. How did he know that? Where had he learned that name? “You didn’t tell me you were expecting.”

“Suga.” She said his name like plea, begging him to give her back the baby.

“Shhhhh.” He hushed her walking over with her baby settling himself on the bed beside her before she could spring up. “You should be resting. You just gave birth, baby.”

“Give me the baby.” She pleaded reaching out to take her son, but Yoongi held him away fixing her with a dark, disapproving stare.

“You should have told me.” He scolded.

“Please, give me the baby.”

He shushed her again. “He’s fine. Look. He’s sleeping.” He angled his arms down so she could see the angelic face of her little one scrunched up in sleep. “You don’t want to wake him up.”

“Please.” She reached out for the little one again terrified of what Yoongi could do to him.

She knew she was in trouble. No one stole from Bangtan, and if Yoongi was here, he had clearly known about the pregnancy. Was he going to take the baby from her? Was he going to kill her for hiding it?

“He’s fine.” He scolded again maneuvering himself so that the baby was cradled in one arm while the other snaked around her shaking shoulders pulling her close in a position they had been in many times before, minus baby.

“Yoonho, huh?” He asked gazing down at the sleeping child. “Feeling nostalgic, Sen?”

“Please.”

He sighed shifting to ease the baby into her waiting arms much to her relief. Yoonho whimpered a little in his sleep unhappy with the transfer, but settled back quickly.

She looked over him checking for any signs of distress, but he seemed fine. He was sleeping like a champ, but that was what newborns did. They slept, and they ate. Yoonho didn’t even seem to know that anything was wrong, but Sen did.

“Why are you here?” She whispered gently tracing her son’s features as she refused to meet Yoongi’s eyes.

“I’m here for my kid.” He scoffed leaning over a bit and moving the blanket back so that he could have a better view of Yoonho’s face. “You didn’t think you could keep something like this hidden, did you?”

“I was hoping.” She whispered stiff in Yoongi’s arms. “What happens now?”

“I take Yoonho back to Seoul.”

Her eyes flew to his, wide with panic as she clutched her little dude closer to her chest. “No!”

Yoongi shot her a dark look, and she shut up immediately not wanting to push her luck when she was already in so much trouble. “I’m taking my kid back to Seoul with me.”

“Please no.” She whimpered staring up at him pleadingly. “You can’t take him.”

“I can, and I will.” He answered sharply silencing her again. “He’s my kid.”

She squared her shoulders and glared at him. “You don’t know that. He could be anyone’s.”

Yoongi chuckled darkly eyes sharp and dangerous as he stared her down. “You saying you were sleeping with other men?”

“I was a whore.” She pointed out.

He gripped her chin tightly bringing her face close to his as he hissed at her. “I know every man that touched you. No one has touched you other than me in some time. That kid could only be mine.”

“Just because you kept away other clients, doesn’t mean I wasn’t sleeping with other men. I had a life outside of you and yours.” She shot back. It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. She would say just about anything to get him to go and leaver her and Yoonho alone.

He released her chin leaning back against the bed with a gummy grin, but there was no mirth behind it. “No, baby. You couldn’t. Jimin doesn’t let his girls sleep around without getting paid. If anyone other than Hobi or I had touched that sweet little pussy, you would have been in big trouble.”

“You don’t know that.” She should really stop talking, stop antagonizing him, but she couldn’t. She needed to get him to believe the baby wasn’t his. She needed him to go, even if it was a long shot that he would.

“Baby, I know everything about you. You really think you could sneak around without one of us knowing?” She didn’t say anything, only trembled clinging onto Yoonho like an anchor. “You were sleeping with two of the big bosses. No one would touch you with a ten foot pole, and our guys certainly wouldn’t let you go sneaking around if they saw you. You want to try this again, baby girl?” He quirked a dark brow at her. “Who’s the father?”

“You.” She admitted the truth leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she glared at him.

“Good girl.” He praised as he ran a long finger over Yoonho’s little nose staring down at the baby his eyes sparkling with something she had never seen before. He looked almost enamored. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“You can’t take him.”

“I can.” He shrugged pulling back with a gummy grin directed at the little one who was just opening his eyes to stare up at his parents. “You have two options, baby. I can shoot you, and take Yoonho. Or you can come back to Seoul with me, and be a good little wife and mother.”

“Wife?” She asked the offer coming as a complete shock. She had never pegged Yoongi as the family type of guy. “As in marriage?”

“You got another definition?”

“You want to marry me?” The words came out slowly as she tried to wrap her mind around the concept.

“Yoonho needs a mom.” He shrugged. “I’d prefer you do it. You’re his mom, but I have no problem getting rid of you and finding someone else if you’re going to be difficult.”

She shuddered at the though. Yoongi had never shared the details of his missions, but she knew the gist of what he did for Bangtan. He would have no trouble disposing of her if she didn’t cooperate.

It was a simple choice really. Go back with him and stay with her son, or wind up in a ditch somewhere.

“Okay.”

He smiled, kissing her forehead lightly. “I’m glad you made the right choice.”

As soon as Sen and Yoonho were released from the hospital, Yoongi took them both back to Seoul. He didn’t even allow them to go back to her apartment to collect any of her things or any of the things she had put together for Yoonho. All they had was the bag she had packed for the hospital.

He didn’t return her to the apartment she’d operated out of when she’d worked for Bangtan. Instead he took them to what she had to assume was his home. She’d never been to Yoongi’s home before. Why would she? She’d just been one of the many girls at his disposal. She wasn’t special.

The apartment was spacious, but it was cold. There were no personal touches. Hardly anything suggested that it had been lived in. She could understand now why Yoongi spent so many nights in her bed instead of here. She wouldn’t have wanted to come back to a cold, lifeless apartment either.

“Yoongi.” She started softly, holding Yoonho to her chest as she finished exploring their new home. “There’s no crib.”

“What?” He asked not even opening his eyes to look at her as he remained sprawled across the sofa in the living room.

“There’s no crib, or changing table. There’s nothing for a baby here.” She pointed out bouncing the baby as he began to fuss. “There’s nothing for me either.”

He sighed heavily sinking further into the sofa as he did. “I’ll send out one of the boys for stuff later.”

“Yoongi.” She started again, her tone more sharp this time.

“What?” He shot back, tone equally as unhappy.

“There is nothing here. There are no diapers. There are no baby clothes. No wipes. No burp clothes, blankets, bottles. I don’t need someone to go out later. I need someone to go out now.”

He groaned opening his eyes to glare at her, but she was having none of it. He might hold her life in his hands, but he professed to want their baby, and she’d be damned if she stayed here when he was so ill prepared for said baby. “I can go out and grab some things myself if you don’t want to send someone, but we need at least diapers, wipes, and extra clothes. A crib would be nice too, unless you want your son sleeping in a car seat.”

He sat up still glaring at her. He was tired. She was tired, but at least she was looking out for their child’s welfare. “And how do I know if I let you out of her that you won’t take off with the kid?” She rolled her eyes shifting to move Yoonho to rest against her other shoulder as he fussed again. “Because if I tried anything you’d track me down, take Yoonho, and shoot me in the head. I’m not stupid.”

“Pretty stupid of you to run off in the first place.” He grumbled. “Almost as stupid as the boss’ wife.”

She scoffed at that. Everyone in Bangtan knew the story of what happened with RM’s wife. She’d disappeared at the New Year’s gala in spectacular fashion. The organization had been in chaos trying to find her ever since. But could she really blame the poor woman? If she thought she could safely get herself and Yoonho out of here, she would take off in a heartbeat. There was nothing stupid about it.

“You can go grab supplies then. I’ll make you a list.”

And then Yoonho started crying, stuttering little cries that were heartbreaking to hear but elicited a sigh from both parents.

“What is it now?” Yoongi asked getting up to check on them both. His words were gruff, but he was genuinely concerned for his son’s welfare.

“He’s probably just hungry.”

She shrugged moving to sit down on the sofa as she maneuvered herself and Yoonho into a more comfortable position for feeding. She wished she had a blanket to keep herself covered, but it was nothing that Yoongi hadn’t seen before, and yet he stared at her wide eyed as she got Yoonho to latch as though it was the most alien thing on earth. He still wasn’t used to the sight of her breast feeding. He wasn’t used to seeing her so domestic.

There was no soft lingerie or sheer robes. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun that threatened to fail at any moment, and she was dressed in a pair of soft leggings and a shirt that was comfortable on her still healing body and was easy to get out of the way when Yoonho got hungry. He also knew for a fact she was wearing the mesh panties that the hospital gave her. There was nothing sexy about it, but at the same time it felt right. It was domestic. It was motherly.  

After he unfroze from the sight, he moved to sit next to them both. “I’ll send someone out now.” He agreed taking off his hoodie and throwing it over her shoulders so she wouldn’t be cold.

Yoonho was bundled up in the only blanket they had available, but he couldn’t help but notice that her own clothing looked a little worn as though it was second hand. He’d have someone pickup clothes for her while they were out shopping for Yoonho. She was going to be a Min very shortly. She couldn’t go around in second hand clothing. He might not have loved her, not like Namjoon loved Y/N, but he had known Sen for a long time. He liked her well enough. More than that she had given him a son.  A perfect little heir.

If he had to choose a woman to mother his child, he was almost glad it had been her. It saved him the trouble of picking some girl from their allies, and Sen already knew him. She also knew how Bangtan worked. That was half the trouble that Namjoon and Jin both had with their women.

Y/N was a smart woman, and she knew how gangs worked, but she didn’t know her place in Bangtan. She gave Namjoon no end of trouble. She never settled. Jin’s girl was a weak little thing. She didn’t understand gang life at all. He kept her locked up tight so that she couldn’t go running for the hills. She’d bend soon enough though, and life could be worse than with Jin.

Sen was different. She was already accustomed to Bangtan. She knew what he was capable of. She knew the consequences if she stepped out of line. She might not like her situation, but she wasn’t going to openly defy him, not when her life and the life of her child were on the line. That gave him some peace of mind at least. He would though have to fend off Jimin and Hobi. If she was going to be his wife, he couldn’t have any of the other boys sniffing around her. Hopefully Hobi would find a girl of his own soon enough, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

“We need to talk about the wedding.”

She looked up from Yoonho to meet his eyes in confusion. “The wedding?”

“Nothing big. You’ve already had a baby. A courthouse wedding.”

She sighed before grimacing at the feel of Yoonho feeding. “I’m fine with whatever. Let’s just get it over with.”

He frowned at that. Marriage was a big deal, especially in his circles. When you chose a woman, you chose her for life. It wasn’t something you “just got over with”.  It was the reason that Namjoon wasn’t going to let Y/N go. It was why Jin kept Hayan locked away. He was choosing her, and she just wanted to “get it over with”.

“Sen.” He growled causing her to look up again in confusion. “We are going to be married. You’re my woman, and you’re going to act like it.”

Her eyes were wide as she took in his words, but she was in no position to argue with him. She was going to do it anyway though. “Is this really a marriage?” She asked. “We’re only in this position because of Yoonho. I don’t expect you to be faithful or act like a husband.” She shrugged as she moved Yoonho over to the other side. “Do you really expect me to act like a wife?”

Yoongi darted forward capturing her mouth in a rough kiss though he was careful not to disrupt his son one of his hands coming to overlap hers to keep him steady. “You are mine.” He growled dark, feline eyes boring into hers. “You were mine then, and you’re mine now. I was going to drag you back when Jimin said you left, but you’re a sneaky little vixen. You managed to get yourself to another city, and Jimin let you go. I should have dragged you back, Jimin’s rules be damned.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” He murmured pulling away and running a hand through his hair. “You’re here now, and neither you or Yoonho are leaving.”

“What are you talking about?”

He laughed the sound hollow and humorless. “Why do you think no one else has touched you for over a year besides Hosoek? They knew you were mine.”

“I thought I was Jimin’s.” She snarked back eyes narrowed. “Just another one of his whores.”

“You’re my whore. No one else is going to touch you.”

“Where you really going to shoot me if I refused to give you Yooonho and come back?” She asked suspicion creeping in the back of her mind.

“I would have dragged you back by your hair.” He promised. “The kid needs his mother.” He leaned in so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “And I wasn’t about to let that sweet little pussy of yours go a second time.” She grimaced a combination of his words and the uncomfortable feeling of breastfeeding. No one had warned her that breastfeeding hurt. That should have been one of the first things that other mothers told you when you first got pregnant. They should warn you about what you’re in for.

“And who says I’m going to have sex with you?” She challenged eyes flashing.

He smirked against her ear. “We both know you’re not going to deny me.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” She shot back.

He shrugged pulling away a dark grin spreading across his features. “Doesn’t matter. We have a lifetime to figure it out.” He leaned closer again placing another short kiss to her lips. “You and Yoonho aren’t going anywhere.”

“I suppose we aren’t.” She agreed, her lips set in a grim line.

 The wedding didn’t take place for a few weeks. Yoongi and Sen needed some time to settle in as parents, and Sen had not only a newborn to contend with, but she had to whip the apartment into shape. But after a few weeks it looked lived in. Baby toys and paraphernalia littered the living room. One of the spare bedrooms had been converted into a nursery though there was a bassinet in the master bedroom where Yoonho spent most of his nights. Yoongi insisted that she share the master bedroom with him, and it was easier on both parents to keep the little dude in there when he was getting up every few hours for feeding, but they were settling into a schedule much to both Sen and Yoongi’s relief.

The wedding was a small affair. She and Yoongi went to the courthouse. He wore a casual suit, and she wore a knee length white dress, and just like that, she was married. She couldn’t get used to the ring that flashed on her finger. It was simple. Three cushion cut diamonds set on a gold band, but it was pretty.

Namjoon had made sure that all of the boys stayed away from Yoongi and Sen as they settled, but after the wedding, all six men were gathered in the apartment to greet their friend and the new Mrs. Min, as well as to meet the little one that had caused so much fuss.

Jimin was pleased to see her back where she belonged while Hoseok pouted that Yoongi wasn’t going to share anymore. Taehyung wouldn’t share the baby, and Sen was honestly happy for a break even if it was only a small one. Someone else could hold him for a while. Jungkook hovered close to Taehyung waiting for his turn to hold the little one that they all agreed bore a striking resemblance to Yoongi. Jin fussed over the new family’s health asking her questions about her and Yoonho’s health and telling her that she should come visit his own wife once she was recovered. Apparently she was ill and couldn’t attend the celebrations.

It was Namjoon that made her uneasy though. He hovered over the proceedings like a dark cloud. He’d congratulated Yoongi and said hello to the baby, but for the most part he stayed on to the side. She had to wonder if it was because of his own wife’s absence or if he just didn’t like her. As much as she was proud of the other woman for slipping away, she genuinely hoped it was the latter. Namjoon could make her life hell if he didn’t approve of her, and her life was going to be hard enough as Yoongi’s wife.

Yoongi had no real love for her. He liked her. There was even a small amount of respect there, but he didn’t love her. It was possessive. He liked the idea of having his family all together. He liked the idea of having her as his wife and the mother of his child. He’d always been a possessive lover though. She expected nothing less from him as a husband. He put her in her place when she stepped out of line, but for the most part, so long as she behaved and looked after Yoonho, he treated her well. It might not have been the life she wanted, but it could have been worse. It could always be worse.

“Sen.” A deep voice greeted from beside her.

She jumped a little in surprise but turned to find Namjoon seated beside her. “RM-ssi.” She greeted respectfully. She didn’t want any trouble with the leader.

“You have a beautiful son.”

“Thank you.” She eyed him warily wondering why he was really there. He had no reason to talk to her.

“It’s quite the story. How you and Yoongi met, I mean.” She waited to see where he was going to take this, but she had a bad feeling. “Bold of you to run off when you were carrying his child.” She stiffened not liking the sound of that. He leaned closer eyes glinting dangerously. “If you ever try anything like that again, I don’t care if Yoongi cares for you, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes myself. Am I clear?”

She gulped eyes wide and terrified. “Yes, sir.”

“Good!” His expression changed instantly, a charming grin spreading over his lips. “Welcome to the family.”  

[blackcatkita]

Second Chances- Chapter 2

Running For You

Book- Ride or Die

Logan x Ellie

Rating- Teen, I guess? I don't know, I'm not your mother.

Word Count- 2798

A/N- No warnings I can think of except mild swearing. This took a long time to come out, didn't it? Oh, well, it's here now and I gotta say, I'm moderately happy with how it turned out! I hope you all enjoy Logan's POV and as always, I truly appreciate every like, comment, reblog, and all of you, my dear readers.

Running For You

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

Go.

Drive.

The clutch hummed beneath his left foot, the other pressed on the brake. Hand gripping the shift knob, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. If he looked at her, even a glance, he wouldn’t be able to leave. And he had to leave- for her. He had to leave.

Just get the hell out of here and drive!

He released the clutch and opened his eyes at the exact moment he hit the gas, and he drove away. Away from the only girl he’d ever loved. Away from the only one who’d ever loved him. Away from the foolish fantasy he’d allowed himself to believe the last few months.

He knew how this would end from the start; it had been stupid to think otherwise. She was a light in the dark, smart, and beautiful, with an entire world of possibilities just waiting for her. He was a punk high-school drop-out car thief going nowhere but prison or six feet under. He would only bring her down and he wouldn’t let that happen. She deserved more than he could ever give her. She deserved everything, and without him in the picture, she was free to get it.

And so, he drove, only making it a couple of miles from her house before the tears welling in his eyes blurred his vision enough he couldn’t see. How could it hurt so much? He asked himself. How could anything hurt this much? He pulled over and turned off the engine, chest tight and heaving as he struggled to breathe… and he cried.

**********

Weeks ticked by with mile markers as he made his way to Detroit. Stops in Phoenix, Lubbock, Plano, Fayetteville, Memphis, and Chicago kept money in his pocket, not that he needed the cash. He’d managed to save quite a bit while working for Kaneko. Too many times he’d seen people living by the next payout that might never come, then blowing it all on drugs or gambling or some other complete waste that didn’t get you anywhere but on the street. Or dead if you couldn’t pay your debts. He was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

Still, the money he had stashed wouldn’t last forever, and college towns were full of cocky idiots who didn’t know how to drive the cars mommy and daddy bought them. Rich assholes who were all too eager to lose money they didn’t earn themselves, and Logan was happy to help them part with it. He never stayed long, two days, tops. Just long enough to get a new burner phone and make some money before the Brotherhood or FBI got wind of where he was.

Not a day went by when he didn’t think of Ellie. He’d imagine her riding shotgun, the wind blowing through her hair with the sun kissing her golden skin. The way she’d sing at the top of her lungs even though she couldn’t carry a tune to save her life, then laughing because she knew she couldn’t.

It wasn’t healthy; he knew that.

Only two people knew the situation that he’d spoken to since he left: Vaughn and Colt. Their opinions were as conflicting as his own thoughts; go after her and let her go. Vaughn never was one to think things through. Act first and deal with the consequences later, but Logan didn’t have the luxury, not when he had Ellie’s future to think about.

Colt’s advice was to let her live her life, give it time and he’d forget all about her as she would him. Of course, the asshole would say that, like he himself could ever forget her. Maybe he could, but Logan couldn’t. Ellie was more than a memory that would fade over time.

He didn’t want to forget. Didn’t want to forget how perfectly she fit tucked beneath his chin as he held her in his arms, the delicately floral scent of her perfume, or how she would mumble random facts while doing mundane things when she was cramming for a test.

She was a ghost, haunting his every waking thought and a near-constant presence in his dreams.

He’d been in Detroit nearly a month before it became too much to bear and he called her for the first time. If everything had gone according to her plan, she’d be somewhere between LA and Langston- away from her dad and his eavesdropping ears. Not that it mattered. As soon as she said hello, his throat closed up and he couldn’t speak. What would he have even said? What gave him the right to say anything after all he’d done?

It took another week to gather up the nerve to call her the second time and by the third, she figured out it was him, even though he never said a word. It went on for months, each call intended to be the last. But as she told him about the classes she was taking, the people she was meeting, leaving the parties Ingrid dragged her to early, he couldn’t stop. Her voice was a drug he didn’t want to quit. An anchor to a life he wished he had. A life with her.

He wanted to tell her everything. About his buddy Zach from back in the day, who went straight when he met his wife. How Zach gave him not only a job at the garage he managed but a place to stay as well. About babysitting Zach’s four-year-old son Mason, building forts, and getting play-doh stuck in the carpet. How he had her to thank for taking classes and getting his GED.

Most of all, he wanted to tell her how every night he’d look up at the stars and think of her, wondering if she was doing the same. How much he missed her. How he still loved her and always would. How much he regretted leaving her that night and how sorry he was for everything. He was so goddamn sorry.

But he couldn’t. Doing so would only open the door of communication even further, giving her false hope there was a future for them when there wasn’t. The day would come when he’d let her go. Let her be free to chase the life she deserved instead of the one where he’d only hold her back. Maybe it would be when she finally told him to stop calling or stopped taking his calls altogether. Or maybe he would stop being a damn coward and do the noble thing for once in his life.

Closing the garage for the night, Logan walked across the empty lot to his unimpressive and inconspicuous used car parked beneath the flickering pole-mounted light. He made a mental note to call to get the bulb replaced as soon as he got back to the garage in the morning and slid behind the wheel, letting out a groan even louder than the creaking of the worn seat.

It’d been a long day. Fourteen hours of work, three of them past when everyone else left, to make sure a single mom’s car was done so she could take her kids to school in the morning. Exhaustion seeped into his every pore as he rolled down the window, hoping the cold night air would keep him from falling asleep on the way back to Zach’s place. Glancing up, he saw stars dotting the clear November sky and thought of Ellie like he always did. Like he promised her he would.

Telling himself it was too late to call, and she was probably sleeping already, he took his phone from his pocket and pulled up her contact info.

She answered after the second ring, her voice soft and tired, “Logan? It’s late… are you okay?” She let out a heavy sigh when he didn’t answer. “Of course you won’t respond. Why would you start now?”

A sense of foreboding washed over him at her tone. Every other call she was cheerful, excited about school, happy to do all the talking if it meant he kept calling because then at least she knew he was safe- or so she’d said. This call was different, intuition or whatever it was, he could feel it.

What’s the matter, Troublemaker? He silently asked, as if he didn’t know the answer. What can I do to fix it?

Minutes crept by in silence and he wondered if she hung up before she spoke again. “Why won’t you talk to me, Logan? I…” Her breath hitched like she was holding back tears. “I miss you so much and I… I just need to hear your voice. Please?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back against the headrest. Throat tight, he willed himself to speak, to tell her everything he needed to say. But, whether it was the fear of breaking down or of what would happen after, he remained silent, his heart breaking as he listened to her sniffles come through the phone.

“I really hope you’re ok… but I’m not. I’m not ok. At all.” She drew in a shaky breath. “Every day I wake up and wonder if this is the day I find out you’re dead, or locked up, or if I’d even know if you were. If I’d hear from you or not, if you’d talk to me when you called or if I’d be sitting there like an idiot talking to someone who can’t even be bothered to say hi.”

The words tumbled from her lips, getting more and more desperate with each thought she expressed. “I have Ingrid hounding me to go out to pick up guys all the time, this jackass who won’t take no for an answer in my astronomy class, my advisor told me not to take so many credits but I didn’t listen and now if I don’t ace the exam I’m getting a B+ in creative writing. I’m drowning here, Logan. I thought I could handle it but I can’t.”

He longed to hold her as her sniffles turned to sobs. In another life, he could see himself there with her, supporting her, and telling her that yes, she could handle it. Maybe if her plan had worked, they could have handed over the brotherhood to the feds, but without that leverage, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. It was just another fantasy. He belonged right where he was, sitting in a rundown parking lot nine hours away, paying for his past and trying to get by the right way.

“I love you, you idiot! Don’t you know that?” she asked. “I love you so damn much and I don’t care about your past or that you’re on the run or any of it. I care about you, and I know we can face anything as long as we’re together. If you still love me, come to Langston. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, it doesn’t matter. There has to be a way, and I know we can figure it out together. Please, Logan, I need you. I can’t do it without you.”

Her pain was crushing, as was his, wrapping around his chest until it was difficult to breathe. Not wanting her to hear him cry, he clamps his hand over his mouth, inhaling and exhaling hard and fast through his nose.

I can’t do it without you.

She’d said it to him before, once.

He’d left her to save her from a life of heartache and stayed away to do the same. But, with every word, he realized his decision was only going to keep hurting them both. And what would be the point of that? Some convoluted sense of being noble? Some form of self-hatred because he knew he didn’t deserve someone like Ellie?

You deserve everything you want, Logan.

All I want right now is you.

“Of course I still love you, Ellie,” he told her, his voice shaky. “But it’s not that simple, baby.”

Silence met him on the other end.

“Ellie? You there?” he asked.

Pulling the phone from his ear, he stared at the black screen, wet from the tears running down his cheeks. “Damn it,” he grumbled, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, the battery having run out after his thirteen-hour workday.

He sat staring out the windshield, listening to a distant siren carried on the wind blowing leaves and trash across the pavement. A parade of ideas and complications ran through his mind for a half hour or more, hoping like hell to find a way for them to be together. Every idea led to the same near impossible conclusion. It wasn’t going to be easy and there was an excellent chance it would end badly, but he couldn’t see any other choice. Unlike Ellie, he really couldn’t do it alone.

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

Three weeks later found him sitting in his car on a sunny, palm tree-lined street. His heart raced, nausea making his stomach churn as he watched the house across the street, trying to psych himself up to knock on the door. The last time he was here, he had a gun pulled on him and was given ten seconds to leave town. What was to stop the guy from just shooting his ass outright this time? Or locking him up without giving him the chance to explain himself? This might be the dumbest thing he’s ever done.

Now or never, he thought as he watched Wheeler walk through the living room to the kitchen through the picture window. Better to do this now while he’s enjoying his morning coffee than after he straps his Glock .45 into his shoulder holster.

Guess I’ll see where the road takes me.

One last look at a selfie he and Ellie took while laying in his bed was all the assurance he needed. Getting out of the car, he slipped his phone into his back pocket and resisted the urge to jump up and down a few times before walking up to the house he thought he’d never see again.

He took a deep breath and reached up to knock, swallowing down the rising bile in his throat. It took a minute for the door to open, long enough for Logan to worry about his breakfast burrito and orange juice coming up all over the rose bushes Ellie’s mom had planted.

Whatever the detective had in mind for a greeting died on his lips at the sight of Logan. He’d aged in the last few months, his hair less pepper and more salt. His eyes, more wrinkled than the last time Logan saw him, drooped slightly at the corners yet were just as shrewd, calculating the scene in front of him, first across Logan’s face then up and down the street.

“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” he said, crossing his arms against his chest. “But what the hell are you doing on my porch?”

“I know I’m the last person in the world you want to see, Sir,” Logan answered, willing his hands to stay put at his sides. “But I came to ask for your help.”

Detective Wheeler let out a sound between a scoff and a chuckle. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I love your daughter more than anything, Sir, and she loves me. I haven’t seen her since I left that night, haven’t even said a word to her, though I have to admit I’ve called her. I needed to know she was ok.”

Wheeler’s eyes narrowed, his expression turning to stone. “Of course she’s ok. Without you turning her life to shit, she’s fine.”

“She’s not though.” Logan shook his head. “Being apart, it’s killing us both.” Frustrated, he looked away and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, I’m not stupid, ok? I know I don’t deserve Ellie.” He felt his throat tighten and held back his tears, charging ahead in a last desperate attempt to convince him. “But I want to. I want to be the kind of man she can be proud to be with. I want to be able to give her everything she deserves. I know I can be that man, but I also know I have shit to answer for. If I have even a chance at a future with her, I need to face my past.”

His eyes bore into Logan’s, looking for any sign of bullshit before letting out a sigh. “Spit it out, kid. What are you doing here?”

His next words would determine not just his relationship with Ellie, but the rest of his life as well. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, surprised by how calm he felt.

“I’m here to turn myself in.”

[kpopinesss]

[ateez] S A N ➱ baby daddy au

YOU HAVE TO RAISE HIS SON AFTER HE LEAVES. MAFIA SAN.

warnings: teen pregnancy

a/n: sorry ya’ll I accidentally posted this on my main lol - @atinybitofau

• raising a son on your own was hard.

• raising a son whose genes were on par to his notorious father was even harder—

• a hooligan. a mischievous troublemaker.

• an eyesore in morality.

• and yes, your son was just like him.

• cold. ruthless. blood thirsty.

• but unlike San, your son loved you enough never to leave you.

• appreciated the things you did for him enough to stay.

• “Eomma..”

• you turn on your side when your son interrupts your slumber,

• injuries blatant on his tethered arm.

• raising a child who’s now 13 since you were 16 never easy.

• “Where were you, Ari?”

• he sits at the edge of your bed and leans for the warmth only a mother could give. “I was trying to get your medicine.. but I ended up causing a scene and the store owner kicked me out.”

• you sigh letting him lay down beside you. “It’s just a little cold. You don’t need to go and risk your life to save mine.”

• he wants to ask you.

• he’s old enough..

• why hasn’t his father came back to be the one the take care of you?

• to take care of him.

• why do you have to suffer alone?

• “Ari, just do me a favor and take care of yourself the way you do for me.” you cuddle into your sons warmth too. “That’s all I need.”

• but you’re lying.

• you’re getting sicker.

• and he can’t take it anymore.

• he goes to lower than the low to find something to save you, his mother.

• eventually ending up tied up in San’s gang house.

• brutally beat for intervening a drug heist—

• “Alright you little shit,” San holds your son up by the collar, blood running down his face mixed with his tears. “I don’t care that you’re 13 years old. Hell you could’ve been 10 and I’ll still beat the living crap out of you. No one just comes barging into a drug heist for no reason. That’s not just a coincidence.”

• it is.

• it really is.

• and maybe god was just giving him a sign.

• because you were on the verge of dying—

• and his own son being dealt his life and in the hands of his own father,

• yet San still didn’t know what was going on.

• what sign god was trying to give him.

• “I have to admit.” San runs a finger down his son’s chiseled jaw and smirks. “You’ve got a nice face. But in a couple minutes, you might not even be able to recognize it anymore.”

• “I-I-I was just trying to get medicine for my mom! I swear.”

• San really needed to get a clue.

• not all drugs were recreational.

• and some—

• some can actually save lives not just make dirty money.

• “You think I’ll believe that sissy crap?”

• Ari shudders looking to his torn up jeans. “H-her pictures in my wallet. I swear, she’s the only thing I’ll do anything illegal for. I promise I wasn’t trying to fuck anything up. She’d kill me if I got involved. Kill herself if I pushed myself too far.”

• he’s convinced at the desperation in the poor kid’s voice.

• normally not as merciful but he digs through the kid’s pocket for the picture anyway.

• and he should be glad he did because shit—

• the picture of you made him go from 100 to 0 real quick.

• “Y/n?”

• “T-that’s her! That’s my mom.”

• San glances up at the beat up kid, horrified.

• horrified at the sight.

• that he was basically beating to death a walking replica of himself.

• an age far enough that fit the time he left you.

• “You’re telling me my high school sweetheart..” San’s bloody fingers curl around your picture. “The woman you’ve been trying to steal medication for is your mom? The woman in this picture.”

• he’s at first in denial.

• that the kid he almost beat to death was your son.

• but denial hits him even harder the chances he could also be the father.

• “M-my mom is everything to me.” Ari bawls his last tears out begging for his own father to spare his life. or anything to save yours. “She’s only got me. I’ve only got her. S-sir please. At least save her. If you wanna kill me sir, please save my mom first.”

• his jaw clenches,

• still knealt down on one knee propped in front of his pleading son.

• studying every feature of his face.

• how on par everything was to his own.

• San was beating up his son, he realized.

• holy shit he was about to kill his own son.

• “Why didn’t she tell me?”

• “W-what?” his son chokes. “What do you mean?”

• “Fucking hell— kid, I think I’m your dad.”

• the five days that your son was held captive was long enough for your body to grow cold and weaker.

• laying in a hospital bed nearly blacked out.

• your son cries over your body as you sleep.

• hoping he’s not too late.

• not too late to give you the one thing that might be able to keep you alive.

• a husband?

• finally a father to your child.

• “You’re the husband?” the doctor finds San watching from the doorway awkwardly glancing at the black dressed men who towered behind him. “You’ve got quite the entourage there, sir. But not even an army of soldiers would be able to save your wife right now. She’s hanging on a thin line. Barely holding on. That woman needs a miracle if she wants to live the next good years of her life.”

• San watches as his son that he never knew about cries over you.

• wishes you would’ve told him..

• he would’ve stayed.

• would’ve loved you.

• why were you always so selfish? always wanting to do things that pushed you too far even if there were another option available.

• “Eomma.”

• you hear everything.

• your son.

• San.

• “Ma, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get the medicine. I got into trouble again, ma. I’m sorry.” Ari folds his hand over your limp one’s. “B-but I have something even better. Someone who could help you and me. He can take care of us, ma.”

• it hurts.

• you want to wake up for your son because he deserves the world.

• he deserves a fight for the both of you but the option you chose came short.

• in the past, the option of never telling San in the first place of his own son.

• “Ma.. he’s gonna talk to you okay? I’m gonna let him talk to you.” Ari sniffles and suddenly your hand gets replaced with a different warmth. “He’s gonna tell you it’s gonna be okay. I love you, eomma. I love you. We’re gonna be okay.”

• it’s almost enough.

• your heart beats a little faster.

• burns a little more so you could breathe on your own.

• it’s definitely working.

• “You shoulda told me, bubba.”

• the nickname San had given you years ago,

• a nickname you thought you’d never hear again, rings in your ear and that light so far away,

• it gets further.

• “You shoulda told me about him. About you.” he lifts your hand against his trembling lips. “13 years? 13 years after I tell you to take care of yourself and now you’re almost dying. Come on now. My girl was a fighter. Pushed herself harder than she wanted to.”

• his voice is like a mantra—

• a dream that gives you a little bit more of life you we’re starting to lose.

• “Bubba, you were the love of my life. And I didn’t tell you enough how much I appreciated you. I know it may be too late and if god forbid I do lose you, I will make sure our baby stays safe okay?”

• you think if you were awake right now you’d be crying.

• as if a weight lifted off your shoulders.

• cause the one person who could save you right now—you and your son,

• was right here.

• ready to go merciless to keep you two safe.

• “I left loving you. And I’ll come back loving you. 13 years only kept us apart. But let me tell you, y/n, it never stopped me from loving you.”

• he’s unsure when he lets go of your hand.

• usually gets what he wants with one word—

• cause he’s a notorious mobster.

• but let’s just say you were the one thing he wanted he could’ve never gotten even with two words.

• 3?

• “I love you.” he continues. “And if I’m gonna have to love our son the way I should’ve loved you then so be it.”

• but life’s not like movies where you wake up right during a miracle.

• this miracle takes time.

• and after an EXPENSIVE deal of money and medicine to keep you alive,

• a year it takes for you to finally open your eyes.

• to a nice hospital bed room.

• filled with flowers and the reminiscent scent of old spice and San.

• your hair’s a bit longer.

• the sun’s definitely brighter.

• but not as bright as the smile you see once you turn to the side.

• “Good morning beautiful.” San reaches his forehead against yours. “How were your dreams?”

• you choke on a decent reply. “S-San?”

• “The one and only.”

• “Where’s— Where’s Ari? Where’s my—“

• “Our?” San chuckles softly. “You mean our son.”

• you kind of remember.

• it takes a while to remember the voices and the dreams in your head.

• how waking up to find them real was surreal on its own.

• “He’s at school, bubba.” San cradles your face in the palm of his hand staring at you like he was hypnotized. “I’ll have someone pick him up. Tell him mommy’s awake.”

• “San..” you shake your head in his hand. “How is this real?”

• “Our son might be a miracle worker. Brought us together the way we made him. Brought me so I could keep you alive.”

• cheesy as you remember.

• although this handsome and older version of your old flame you aren’t too sure.

• “So you just show up while I’m in a coma and play daddy while I sleep?” you hoarsely chuckle while he smiles against your lips. “Even after 13 years, you won’t grudge against me for not telling you?”

• “I can’t blame you for trying to save yourselves.” he admits with his lips still on yours. “I wasn’t good enough for you. I know still I’m not. But I’m gonna try this time. Even if I have to pretend I’m not who I am sometimes.”

• you two are interrupted by a crying teenager.

• one you remembered resembled San.

• but now them standing right next to each other,

• looking like two carbon copies and a surreal dream in your head.

• maybe you are dead...

• “Ma!” he shoves his father away abruptly. “Look ma! I brought dad! He helped pay your debt, pays for my school. Even finished the hospital bills.”

• you glare at your always boisterous ex boyfriend and long lost father to your son.

• “You did what?”

• “Did I mention this was my way of getting back at you for not telling me about my 14 year old son?”

• “San how the hell am I gonna pay you back?”

• you just woke up.

• and the doctor runs in ready to sedate to keep you stable for at least more than 24 hours.

• but the way San looks at you is enough.

• him being there like your life long medication itself.

• holding your hand while your son holds your other one proposing,

• “Marry me. And we can call it even.”

@atinybitofau

[hypmicdaydreams]

𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗺

-pairing: dice arisugawa x gn!reader

-genre: fluff (?), a bit of gambling action

-summary: dice’s lucky dice have lost their charm and no longer work; however, he’s sure that you’re his one true good luck charm, though you’re skeptical about that

-word count: 6.3k

it was such a common sight that you had grown accustomed to in the past few months that you had dated dice, yet it never failed to surprise you each and every time at just how careless he could be. dice, on his hands and knees before you, was, yet again, begging you to spare him just a few more yen so that he could go to the pachinko parlor down the street and try his hand at the new machine that they had just installed. he swore that he’d get a jackpot this time, he felt it in his gut. lady luck was finally on his side. how many times has he claimed that though? surely over a hundred by now, considering that this sight happened about three or four times a week. 

“pleeeeease y/n. i just need a few yen. i just know that i’ll hit the jackpot for sure this time! i promise to pay you back.” 

a sigh escaped your lips as you heard those words again, glancing at your hopeless boyfriend. he really did have zero shame bowing down on the ground like that, begging for a few scraps of money to feed his gambling addiction. surely his debt with you racked up close to thousands of yen by now, and that was probably a generous estimate. it’s not like you minded though. you had no doubt, however, that dice would pay you back if he won big.

if.

dice’s luck wasn’t exactly the best lately, having lost everything he’s managed to save up in a matter of minutes. then again, you couldn’t quite recall when the last time his luck ever was good. it seemed to just be a string of bad luck for dice, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the bad luck spell he was in. surely it must’ve taken a toll on him, right? maybe he’d stop gambling for a bit, try to save up some money first rather than betting something so obscure and irrational, like his life (you’re still astounded by the fact that he bet his life just to get a hypnosis microphone). but dice just loved proving you wrong. see, dice wasn’t a rational person, not in the slightest. logic and reason bothered him to no end, so he defied the odds. i mean, what fun would life be if everything was meticulously calculated. every day would be the same dull and lifeless routine, and dice hated the mere thought of such a lifestyle. you didn’t mind his outlook on life at all, in fact, you even supported it to a degree. you just wished he’d be more careful with his, er, hobbies.

“didn’t you say that the last time though?”

“er-” dice flinched once he realized he’d been caught red-handed, having been shoved into a corner by the very thing he hated: logic. “w-well ya, but! i really do think i’ll win big this time. it’s a gut feeling.” ugh, you grew to despise that word: gut feeling. everything was always determined by either luck or his gut when it came to dice. it was truly spectacular, really. you did love dice, you really did, but you couldn’t help but be concerned for him. his gambling tendencies were just a bit too much at times.

you had tried to ignore his pleas, tried your hardest to set your foot down and not give in to those puppy dog eyes he loved to use. it hurt to see that you were only feeding his gambling addiction rather than try to help him solve it. at that moment, however, seeing dice begging on his hands and knees and the look of desperation in his eyes overrid your sense of judgement. it hurt even more to see just how desperate he was for a couple hundred yen. he just tug on your heartstrings like that! 

“well...fine.” you couldn’t help but stifle a giggle when you saw just how quickly dice’s expression changed from desperation to one of excitement. if he had a tail, you swore it’d be wagging. deep down, you scolded yourself for once again falling for his tactics, but could you really blame yourself? dice was just too lovable to turn down. “but on one condition.” 

“hm?” 

“you take me with you.” you really couldn’t predict how dice would take this news, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to smile even wider. i mean, why would he even want you in the same vicinity when he was gambling, especially when there was a large chance he’d lose yet again, and after having begged you for money once more. yet, that sounded like quite a deal to dice, who was practically over the moon at this point. not only does he get to feel the thrill of gambling once more, but he also gets to enjoy it with his lovely partner. it was like killing two birds with one stone. maybe you’d even begin to understand his love of the thrill. ooo, this was so exciting!

“heh, is that all?” to be honest, dice was expecting a much worse condition, such as never cooking for him again if he lost or never gambling again. geez, just the thought of it sent shivers down his spine. he’d have hated if he was given an ultimatum between either you or gambling. then again, that would’ve been an exciting bet. all or nothing, huh. now that gave him goosebumps. “you don’t have to worry about a thing. we got lady luck on our side after all,” dice confidently said, taking out his good luck charms, a pair of dice, from his pocket and throwing them into the air. he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d win big this time.

~

“gahh! what the hell??” dice practically shouted, although the other pachinko players seemed to pay no mind to him. it was rather common to find someone bet their entire life savings then lose them all within an afternoon. sure, it was a terrible sight, but the other players found their games to be much more important. you win some you lose some, that’s just how life worked. then again, the loud noises and distracting colors probably drowned out any connection to the outside world they may have had, however weak it was in the first place. 

dice had, yet again, lost big time at the machines. standing behind him, you shook your head in disappointment. you knew that this exact scenario would play out once he had dragged you to a nearby pachinko parlor. those machines were literally designed to feed off of people’s tendency to think that they’d win big the next round. “tch, i was sure i’d win this time…” he took out his so-called lucky dice and threw them at the machine in frustration. you had been right, as much as he hated to admit. his luck had been garbage lately, which was only perpetuated by the fact that he lost his imaginary bet with you that he’d win. his good luck charms now brought on bad luck instead, and dice couldn’t help but get irritated. this entire time, they never let him down! but now...now they were just dead weight. the pair of dice had lost their touch. they were no longer good luck charms but rather just plain old dice.

“i knew this would happen,” he heard you mumble, which only irritated him further. dice just couldn’t seem to win a single bet, no matter how lousy or small. he never was one to let a spell of bad luck discourage him, but he couldn’t possibly be confident all the time. everything was finally catching up to him, and what made it worse was the fact that you didn’t seem to believe in him. it was the icing on the cake. “let’s head back home-”

“w-wait, just one more time! please, i’m sure we’ll get it this time.”

“you’ve said that the past four matches.”

“er-well...” dice had to think of some excuse fast if he wanted to stay here. sure, he may have lost everything he had begged you for, but maybe you’d be willing to lend him a few more yen? dice did doubt it, but he just couldn’t leave the parlor, not yet, not when he hasn’t won anything at all. maybe, just maybe, his luck will turn around this time. he was holding on to the last bit of optimism he had. “t-then, how about you play for a change?” even if he couldn’t play, maybe you would win big for the both of them. after all, you’ve never gambled before, or at least not that he knew of, so you must have some sort of beginner’s luck, right? well, this was his only chance, and dice was going to bet on it. 

you, on the other hand, were quite taken aback at this sudden development. you, gambling? it didn’t really sound right. besides, you’ve taken a look around the place, and uh, needless to say, you felt a deep pit form in your stomach once you saw the desperation on some faces. you didn’t want to go through that same feeling as them. casinos weren’t fair, after all. they were rigged to make more money for the house, and you really didn’t want to play into their scheme. yet, you didn’t have the heart to explain that to dice who seemed so eager. “um, i don’t think that’s a good idea. i don’t even know how to play-”

“it’s simple, i’ll teach you.” you internally groaned. just great. now you were wrapped up in his plan to make you guys stay longer at the parlor. you mentally cursed yourself for being so oblivious to it all, and now you had no choice but to play along. once again, you’d fallen into his trap. “you just gotta put some money in here, pull the lever, and aim for that place right there,” dice pointed out, nudging you into the seat as he simultaneously explained the rules. if this works out just as planned, dice could see himself leaving this place with a couple thousand yen in his pocket. gosh, he was getting excited just thinking about it. you, however, seemed a bit hesitant at first, so dice tried to massage and pat your shoulders, you know, for reassurance. it’s just a quick, simple game of pachinko, what could possibly go wrong?

“like this?” you asked, pushing down on the lever which sent a ball flying into one corner of the screen. with its landing, the machine lights started flashing (it was enough to induce a headache), and a rather good sum of metal balls came spilling out of the machine. 

“woah, you just won a couple thousand yen!!” dice practically screamed, which didn’t help when you had just been blinded by many colorful bands of light. he couldn’t contain his excitement and was quite literally visibly shaking from all the adrenaline that just flowed through his body. you just stared at the screen, dumbfounded at what had just happened. did you really just win? on your first try?? there was absolutely no way that was possible, right? a few of the other players stopped and quickly glanced at all the commotion, although that didn’t last long as they were soon back to staring at their own screens and attempting to earn some cash. “hey, hey, pull the lever again!”

“um, ok?” once more, you pulled the lever, and the lights started flashing once again as a few more metal balls came spilling out of the machine. 

“holy shit—talk about some beginner’s luck!! you just won a few ten thousand yen! gah, you must be so lucky y/n!!” dice didn’t even attempt to hide his shouting at this point, though you truly wished he’d stop shaking you, especially when the entire world was still spinning. honestly, you couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening right now. the blinding lights were nothing but a haze, and the loud machine noises introduced a sharp ringing in your ears. “press it again! you still have metal balls left.” you couldn’t quite remember the last time dice was this ecstatic; well, that time dice was practically starving and the look on his face when he saw the feast you had cooked for him did come close, but this one took the cake. 

“uhh, i think i’ve had enough excitement for today,” you groaned, holding your head which hadn’t stopped spinning from the first time the lights went off. this whole thing was a bit much with all the colors and loud noises and whatnot. how dice was able to keep up with this environment you didn’t know. honestly, you sorta respected him now. not just anyone could stomach this type of atmosphere.“why don’t you take over and complete it for me?” 

“don’t have to ask me twice, heh.” immediately after getting up, dice took your seat and began pressing the lever in no time at all, concentrating immensely on the tiny balls and aiming them at what you hypothesized to be the center for the jackpot. ball after ball kept landing on a few spots, which resulted in another couple thousand metal balls, though dice seemed to pay no mind to them and instead kept smacking the lever. now, this scene was stirring up quite a commotion, and you were pretty sure everyone’s eyes in the parlor were on you. there were even a few murmurs here and there from the employees which, needless to say, didn’t help your growing uneasiness. 

“what’s even going on?” you asked aloud, though you weren’t really expecting an answer, at least not from dice who seemed to be on a roll. his eyes were only on the pachinko machine now. damn, you wished dice looked at you the same way he looked at that machine at this instant. that was the largest grin you’d ever seen. and finally, at the very last ball, dice hit a jackpot. 

instantly, dice’s eyes widened, and a loud “YESS!!” echoed throughout the parlor. the lights and noises increased in intensity, and everyone now was practically circling around dice, pushing you out of the group and onto the floor. you were certainly much more flabbergasted than anything else at this moment. dice, your dice, finally won the jackpot? this certainly couldn’t be a dream. hell, that’d be some dream in the first place. the world never stopped spinning, and all of the voices and cheers and shouts were incoherent and merged together. what the hell would even happen from here on out? you never imagined dice winning the jackpot, and on the day you decided to attend of all times. 

“y/n, y/n!!” you heard dice shout, and in a flash, someone had grabbed your arm, hoisted you up from the ground, and the next thing you knew, you were snuggling into dice’s chest. “can you believe it? we won haha!” as much as you wanted to congratulate dice on his huge win, it was difficult to say anything. for one, you were way too nauseous, and the bright spots that clouded your vision, as well as the consistent annoying ringing in your ears, didn’t help. secondly, dice was clinging on to you way too tightly. you were pretty sure that he was cutting off your airway, but he seemed to not be aware of that. “damn! you really are my lucky charm.”

~

after that entire incident, dice had started calling you by a new nickname: his good luck charm. you weren’t even entirely sure why, assuming that everything that occurred back in the parlor was nothing more than a mere coincidence. it was just a coincidence that you were there, and it was just a coincidence that he had managed to hit the jackpot that same night too. to be honest, you didn’t really believe much in luck. sure, there was a few good luck or bad luck spells here and there, but you attributed that to nothing more than a series of coincidences. i mean, luck was such a complex subject when one pondered on it for far too long, and it just didn’t seem highly plausible that a person could have a series of good or bad things happening to them all at once. was that even statistically possible? well, if it was, there was no doubt that the chances were very slim.

as aforementioned, however, dice despised logic. it was just too boring, so he truly believed in luck. there really was a being such as lady luck that toyed with him and determined whether he’d win or lose. and that entire pachinko incident was his good luck finally making a comeback. perhaps you were even luck in disguise! i mean, he’d been in such a bad luck spell that he couldn’t even win on simple bets such as a coin toss (yes, he was that desperate), but when you were right by his side, all of a sudden, he was swimming in cash. there was only one plausible explanation for such a phenomenon, and to dice, it was luck. this entire situation was just so rivoting!

and today again, dice had managed to bet off and proceed to lose all of his winnings from that day. honestly, that was a rather huge accomplishment in and of itself. dice truly didn’t know the definition of self control. you sighed to yourself as you felt a massive headache coming on as you sat in your home, wondering to yourself where your boyfriend could possibly be at such a time. it was nearing ten at night, and although you’d naturally assume that he was at a casino betting away anything he had on hand, you hadn’t seen him all day. he hadn’t been answering his calls from you either, which you did find a bit odd and concerning since that was one of the things he always managed to do without fail. just where could he possibly be? 

as the saying goes, speak of the devil and he’ll appear. just as you were getting more and more concerned about the whereabouts of your boyfriend, your phone suddenly rung, and to your relief, the contact id was that of dice. relief immediately flooded you, although anger followed soon after. he’d disappeared for the entire day, with no urge to contact and inform you at all, yet he was finally calling now, when you were about to retire for the day? you really tried not to get angry, especially since you were much more worried than anything, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to contain your anger. 

that all dissipated, however, when you heard dice’s voice over the call. “y/n!!” for some odd reason, dice sounded relieved and also a bit terrified? well, that was new. dice never backed down from a challenge, and he always managed to face them head on with total confidence in himself, even if the chances of winning were slim. sure, he’s had his fair share of disappointment and lack of confidence in himself when it came to gambling, but he never sounded fearful. you quickly became much more concerned than beforehand.

“dice?? where are you? and why haven’t you been picking up?!”

“uh haha...you see, about that-” 

you really did love dice, you truly did. despite his obsessive gambling tendencies and airheadedness, dice had a heart of gold and stood up for what he deemed was right. he was quite admirable at times, really. but god, this incident made you believe otherwise. you knew that dice was quite foolish and spontaneous at times, especially when money was involved, but you couldn’t help but still be baffled when he explained that he was stuck in some sorta underground gambling ring (you had no idea how he even found out about all of these schemes) since he’d gambled all of his current earnings away. of course, you knew that dice would gamble away any spare penny he had on hand. that in and of itself wasn’t a new or surprising fact (though he always did manage to pay you back if he did win). but an underground gambling ring? really? you couldn’t help but question why he even chose to go to one instead of heading on over to the usual casino where practices were, at the very least, legal. it surely would’ve spared the two of you a headache. 

despite the fact that every single rational cell in your body was insisting that it was too dangerous to go to an illegal gambling scene, you threw all that logic out the window. sure you were quite a bit irritated with dice at the moment, but you knew that you had to go save him. he was still the man that you loved after all, even if he did make less than smart decisions at times. certainly you were one of his only chances he had to be saved, unless he did call upon his teammates, though you assumed that they were quite busy at the moment or asleep. 

“alright, where are you at?”

“gahh, you’re such a blessing y/n! thankyouthankyou-”

you could practically picture his enthusiasm over the phone once you heard how relieved he sounded. just imagining a grinning dice waiting for you made you smile. he was just too adorable. you couldn’t possibly stay mad at him for too long. god, you really were a lovesick fool. 

~

when you arrived at the scene, the first thing you couldn’t help but notice was just how musty and humid the entire atmosphere was, though it wasn’t that much different from your usual casino. the only difference was that this place was rather bleak and lifeless in comparison to the bright and migraine-inducing colorful and bright mess of the casino. plus, the people that surrounded this place were rather unsettling. you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was because of their malicious smiles or gruff appearance, but all you knew was that you couldn’t wait to get outta here as soon as possible. hell, if it weren’t for the fact that dice was located deep inside, your instincts would’ve kicked in, and you would’ve been sprinting to the other side by now. but alas, you had to suck it up and go inside, if only to get to see your man again. 

down the creaky and unsafe stairs you went (you were positive that they were going to cave in on you at any moment) and right past the dark hallway, you were finally able to see dice, laying on the ground in nothing but his underwear. you sighed once more, something you realized that you’ve been doing a lot of lately. of course dice had bet his clothes again. you weren’t even exactly sure why you had expected anything else. in front of him sat one large table filled to the brim with all sorts of cards and dice, and behind that were a group of rather large men that you assumed to be the ones who ran this entire operation. geez, you really couldn’t wait to get outta here. 

“y/nnn!!” dice called out a bit too loud as he motioned you to come forward before practically throwing himself on you. “gah, thank heavens you actually came!!” you were just as excited as him to finally see each other again and to see him safe and alive, but it wasn’t exactly the best place to have a heartwarming reunion, not with all of the other guys staring at the two of you embracing. things were just way too awkward, especially since these guys had basically won over all of dice’s savings and whatnot. 

“alright then, now that i’ve found you, let’s go back home,” you quickly muttered, taking dice’s hands in yours as you started on your way back. as much as you would’ve loved to stay and have a quick chat with the others or even attempt to win back dice’s clothes, every instinct in your body was telling you to run outta there while you had the chance. sure, it was a shame that dice had to lose his iconic coat and overworn clothes, but frankly, you thought that the value of both of your lives was much higher than some ripped pants. you’d be more than happy to go buy some new clothes for dice just as soon as the two of you were outta this underground room that gave you goosebumps. you weren’t exactly sure whether or not these guys posed a threat, but it was better to not take any chances. 

“uhh, about that…” 

oh no, it was those dreaded words again. of course there was some kinda setback. there was always a setback in these situations where a person was trying to go back to the comfort of their own home. you quickly snapped towards dice, only to be met with his sheepish smile, which only deepend once he saw the glare in your eyes. honestly, this entire situation was just getting more and more frustrating with each passing minute. all you desperately wanted was to get back home safe with dice in your arms, but of course, there were obstacles (there has to be some sorta plot to this entire story after all). geez, you felt another headache coming on.

“ya see, um, you gotta win your right to leave…” 

for a good few seconds, all you could do was stare dumbfoundly at the man you loved, trying to process what he had just said. surely this was all one big joke, right? “what?! then why did you even come here in the first place?!”

“i didn’t even know about the rules until after i had started! forgive me y/n!!” just as this story started, dice was now on his knees, this time begging for your mercy. gosh, he genuinely does seem sorry for putting the both of you through this entire situation. besides, you knew that he meant well. dice was just a bit naïve and airheaded at times, always getting caught up in the excitement of it all rather than to stop and think about what exactly was going on. it was one of the qualities that you loved oh so dearly about him. dice never really intended to put himself or you in harm’s way; rather, he was just chasing excitement and the adrenaline rush. gahh, you couldn’t stay mad at him for long. plus, the sight of him begging for your forgiveness and the sincerity in his voice broke you, and you even began to feel a bit guilty for him. god, you really did love this fool. 

“it’s alright,” you mumbled, helping dice up from the floor while patting him on the back for reassurance. you weren’t mad, at least not right now. you’d have plenty of time to air any grievances once the two of you were back home safe and sound, but right now, you had to focus on the problem at hand. dice, on the other hand, seemed rather relieved that you decided to help him. deep down, he knew that he was in for it the moment the two of you got back to your place, but of course, he was determined to make it up to you. dice really felt so blessed to have someone as kind and understanding as you as his lover. “soo, what do i have to do in order for us to go back home?” 

the next thing you knew, you sat in front of a roulette table with a couple of the ring leaders on either side of you as well as on at the head of the table. roulette was a game that you were quite familiar with, although that was only because you had seen dice play it a number of times at the casino. as for actual experience with it, well, you’d hardly played any games with it before. the rules did seem fairly simple, though the terminology was a bit difficult to get used to, and the odds didn’t seem to be making much sense in the back of your brain, which at the moment was overrun by adrenaline and fear. it was hard to even think straight, much less make proper decisions that’d ensure the safety of both you and dice. 

“alright, place your bets,” the dealer announced once he’d distributed all of the colored chips. soon enough, the people around you started placing their own chips on different tiled squares and even between them. all of this was foreign to you. i mean, what exactly was the difference between placing a chip at an intersection of four boxes, placing it in a large box, or placing it in one single box? you had no idea about the different types of strategies or the different types of bets, so you decided that your best bet was to go along with your gut. i mean, gambling was all about luck after all, right? it shouldn’t matter whether or not you decided to utilize a strategy since there was no possible way to accurately predict the route the metal ball would take. so, you decided to move all your chips to one square: three. 

“oo, a straight bet, how exciting!” dice commented, though you had absolutely no idea what that even meant. just like back at the pachinko parlor, the entire atmosphere was making you quite queasy, and it was quite difficult to pay attention to anything that was going on. taking notice of the rather puzzled look on your face, dice then proceeded to explain. “well, it means that you’re betting on just one number! it’s really difficult to win, but the payout is huge if you do!” ah yes, you should’ve known that it was quite the risky move if dice approved of it. geez, all you wanted to do was get outta here as soon as possible, but it seemed like it would take much longer than that if you kept making risky bets like this. 

before you could even change your mind about the placement of your bets, the ball was released, and you were quickly hypnotized by its spinning movement. it was another thing to add on to your nausea and quickly rising anxiety. before you could dwell on it too much, however, as luck would have it, the ball landed on three. 

“gahh, y/nn!! you really are my lucky charm!” dice once again shouted, embracing you in a rather tight squeeze. what just happened? was this all a replay of the pachinko parlor incident? surely this was nothing but a mere coincidence, right? luck didn’t exist, or at the very least, you didn’t have extraordinarily good luck. you couldn’t have. the rest of the table quickly turned their eyes to the two of you, glaring at you in particular for having won your first time through. 

“i’m sure it was all a coincidence,” you mumbled, trying to ease all of the tension in the room as well as get the others off your back. you weren’t exactly content on making anyone’s hitlist tonight, which didn’t work out the moment the dealer gave you your chips that you had won. wow, it was way more than what you had originally bet too. 

for the next game, you decided to once more place most of your chips on a single space, this time the zero one. you knew this time around that this was quite a risky move, especially since if it didn’t land there, then all of the money you had won would’ve been gone. so you decided that your best bet was to keep a small pile of chips and save them for later in case you did lose any. after all, you wanted to ensure that you were able to win back your escape for both you and dice. 

and since this is a fanfiction, the ball, once again, landed on your exact spot: zero. dice’s cheer this time was much louder, and the glares from the others were much more cutthroat and icy (you were absolutely sure that you were murdered over a hundred times over just by the intensity of those glares alone). well, that was some coincidence, huh. two times in a row. must be beginner’s luck, exactly like back at the pachinko parlor. yep, that’s all it was, beginner’s luck or just an even stranger coincidence. 

“see y/n? i told you that you were my good luck charm,” dice cheekily commented, massaging your shoulders as you got prepared for the next game. “if this keeps up, then we’ll win back everything i lost, and we’ll be outta here in no time!!” it was quite easy to tell that dice was way too ecstatic and high on adrenaline right now, with the way he was bouncing up and down and the fact that he didn’t seem like he could even sit still or contain his excitement. his unchecked enthusiasm really didn’t help ease your growing anxiety or pounding headache. in fact, it made it worse, because he had expectations for you. it would absolutely devastate him if you managed to lose everything in one sitting, and that would have a chain reaction and devastate you as well. gosh, you prayed that this entire situation ended soon and without anyone getting hurt. 

and just like that, your prayers were soon answered as you kept on hitting the jackpot again and again the next few rounds. dice wasn’t even attempting to hide his high right now, and the others also weren’t attempting to hide their aggression and resort to violence. there were even shouts that you had cheated, to which dice argued with them while you remained seated, rooted in both silence and fear. your anxiety and nausea were starting to take over, and it took everything in you to stop yourself from projectile vomiting onto the table and ruining the entire game. the others surely would’ve beat you and dice to a pulp if that happened. this entire chain of coincidences was becoming way too much. perhaps this was the luck dice had talked about. perhaps you truly were his good luck charm. well, you were quickly taken out of your thoughts by the dealer, who had confirmed that there was no possible way that you could’ve cheated given that he released the ball and it was all up to chance. 

it was on to the final round now, and with this round, you’d finally be able to go back home with dice with all the money he lost and then some. and courtesy of dice’s suggestion, you decided to bet your stacks and stacks of chips on just one square: twenty-seven. you knew that this was risky, hell, you knew that you’d most likely lose everything. but you couldn’t think straight right now. hell, you couldn’t even think at all! everything was becoming way too confusing, and similar to the time at the pachinko parlor, your world was spinning and you couldn’t differentiate between anything anymore. it had all become way too much, so dice had taken over for you. yes, it wasn’t the smartest decision, but you basically had no choice right now. 

and with that, the ball was released once more, and within a few seconds the results came out: twenty-seven. you couldn’t help but stare at disbelief as your boyfriend then hoisted you up and started chanting about how you were his luckiest charm, proceeding to then plant one giant sloppy kiss on your lips before going on to receive all of the prize money and his clothing. at this point, you had gotten used to the dirty glares the others have given you. quite frankly, you were just relieved to be outta there, which did happen as the moment dice got all of your winnings, you grabbed his hand and bolted out of that place, never wanting to see that place again. that in and of itself was an adventure of a lifetime, and you weren’t sure if you could take anymore excitement for at least a good few years, all thanks to your adventurous and carefree boyfriend. 

the walk back home through the crisp night air was quiet on your part, though dice couldn’t stop going on and on about how you won big and saved his ass, reiterating that you were his lucky charm, luckier than any dumb ol’ dice he had used beforehand. while dice went on his whole spiel about just how exciting all of that was, you were deep in thought about the events that had just went down. there was no way that this series of events was nothing but a coincidence. coincidences don’t just happen back to back! at least, the odds of that were slim to none. guess the only reasonable explanation was just as dice said, you were lucky. but you were quite skeptical about luck! luck was unreasonable, luck wasn’t logical. luck was just that, it was luck. how could you place your hopes on something as strange as that? but how could you possibly dismiss everything that happened both tonight and back at the parlor? no matter how skeptical you were, the proof was right there! geez, now your head hurt too much from thinking about it. sighing, you stared at your boyfriend who was nonchalantly talking about how you were so cool back there, smiling as you intertwined your hands with his and embraced his warmth. you were just happy that he came back safe and sound. you were, after all, his good luck charm, and he was yours too.