#shakes and shudders. i know which post will be in no 1 this year and i dread it

[eerna]

I don't tag my liveblogs with the main tag on purpose to avoid it spreading further than you guys, which is the secret to a super relaxing fandom experience <3<3<3

[kittenintheden]

Not Your Sweetheart, Chapter 1

Evening rebagel along with some actual text idk I haven't used this site to post for a thousand years.

This is also on AO3 if that's your preference.

AN: The one where I absolutely delight in reminding everyone that Astarion has a dead average 10 charisma and an 18 CHA Tav gives him a run for his goddamn money in all the best and most angsty ways.

AKA "gets away with it bc hottie w/a body" meets "wins every social interaction and is also troubled and hot."

AKA the seducer gets seduced and he's mad about it, until he isn't.

But also it's a whole campaign? You know.

Orianna wakes flat on her back and surrounded by fire.

She immediately rolls to one side, head throbbing, and spits a mouthful of blood over the dark ground. No, it can’t be happening already. Can it? It’s much too soon. It can’t.

Her fingers go to her mouth, exploring. There’s raw pain there, but it’s the sort that comes from a badly split lip, not the sudden onset of tentacles. She closes her eyes and heaves a shuddering breath.

Right. On her feet, then. The fires aren’t close enough to burn her, but she’d rather not wait for them to spread.

It’s more difficult to stand than it should be. Everything hurts. What happened? She staggers forward through the wreckage around her and tries to remember. Finds an instrument on the ground, miraculously intact, and picks it up with shaking hands. Lashes it to its place on her back.

Pieces of a nearby pod bring back memories in fits and starts. The nautilus. The mind-flayers. The tadpole, its circular mouth full of razor teeth coming closer and closer. She goes to her hands and knees and vomits stringy bile. There’s nothing else in her stomach.

She’d been falling. How had she survived? How had any of this…

Nearby, there’s a soft groan, and Ori struggles to focus. There’s someone else there, humanoid in shape. She gets back on her feet and stumbles closer to find the other half-elf she’d met on the ship, the dark-haired one that showed such immediate distrust for the githyanki in her company.

The gith. Where is she?

A look around the immediate vicinity reveals nothing, so she turns her attention back to the half-elf, who's coming back to consciousness. Helps her up. They exchange words, none of which really matter beyond their agreement to form a tentative alliance amid this hellscape.

They pick through the wreckage, collecting anything useful from the corpses strewn about and feeling no sorrow for it, for they’re already dead and gone. Once or twice, they smash a surviving intellect devourer to paste a bit too forcefully. Neither of them comment on the darkness in the other. It’s simply known.

When they make it to the far side and see the blue sparkle of water, Ori releases her breath in an exuberant exhale. The world she knew does, in fact, still exist, and the sea air on her skin is a balm. Blinking into the bright sunshine, she and her companion – Shadowheart, she calls herself – follow the winding path until they come across another lone figure, backlit against the cloudless sky.

Ori takes in the eccentric clothing of a noble and a flash of whitish hair before the man turns and she sees red eyes and a liar’s practiced mask.

She knows that mask. It’s the same one she wears every time she catches her reflection.

***

Astarion quiets the howling panic clawing at the inside of his skull as soon as he catches the two hapless women coming toward him out of the corner of his eye. His muscles, still coiled tight with the urge to fight run scream sob flee begin to relax because this is something he can do. He can lure. And lure he shall.

They may not be able to help, but if nothing else, they’ll make an excellent apology gift when his master finally finds him and twists his ear clean off, dragging him back to the dark.

As they draw closer, he recognizes them. They ran past his pod on that aberration’s ship, the creature that let that toothy little horror make a home in his eye socket. Definitely not the worst pain he’s ever endured, but hardly pleasant. They’d managed to escape, then. Or perhaps they were never prisoners to begin with.

His spine straightens. That makes them potentially useful. Or dangerous.

He shifts his focus to the underbrush, schooling his expression into one of concern. When the pair come close enough, he acts.

“You, there,” he says, waving a hand. “I’ve cornered one of those brain things. Help me take care of it, will you?”

He looks to them, allowing them to see what so many others have seen before: a beautiful man on the wrong side of the tracks, so out of his element and so in need of their charity, their care. Maybe there’s a reward in it for them, if they play their cards right.

The dark-haired one looks skeptical and hangs back while the other takes a few steps closer. He focuses on that one, the light gray-skinned drow with a shock of pastel pink hair plastered to her head with muck and blood. There are two small black bumps protruding from her hairline, which confuse him for a tick before he puts that thought at the back of his mind to focus on his current problem.

“Come on.” He waves her over and points at the brush. “I saw you kill some back there.”

Her eyes narrow and her jaw sets, and in that instant he knows he’s lost her. Unfortunate.

“You look capable. Take care of it yourself,” she says, turning to walk away.

“Pity,” he sighs. “I was hoping for a kind soul.”

He moves lightning quick, but even so, she spots the flash of his dagger before he can get the better of her and whirls, catching him with a forearm to the chest and shoving him back.

“What did you do to me?” he snarls, brandishing his weapon as she raises her own knife. He hadn’t even seen her draw it. He’d be impressed if he weren’t so confused. “I saw you up there, running free while I was trapped. You and that tentacled freak, what did you-”

A pulse sears through his brain and he cries out, hands going to his temples. He barely registers her doing the same before memories that aren’t his flash through his mind almost too fast to register. Blurry images of being inside a pod, of another tadpole, of walking dark streets and feeling angry scared vengeful twisted inside before vanishing in a cloud of scattered ash.

They blink at one another, slowly drawing back to their full height and recognizing what’s happened.

“They did it to you, too,” he says, filling the silence and stilling the dark-haired half-elf, who readies her shield and brandishes a mace. “Put one of those crawlies in your brain. Huh. And to think, I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards.” He slowly sheaths his dagger and inclines his head. “Apologies. I’m called Astarion.”

The drow, or… he cocks his head to regard her again. Half-drow, maybe? Either way, she takes a moment before she decides he’s no longer a threat and lowers her own weapon. She regards him cooly and says, “You wouldn’t have gotten that far. But apology accepted, I guess. I’m Orianna, and I’m watching you.”

“Well, of course you are, I’m a vision,” he says, but he tucks his dagger farther into his holster and holds his hands up in supplication. "Do you happen to have any idea what they did to us?"

The pair of them explain mind-flayers and parasites, along with the big reveal that they'll all likely be monstrosities in a few days' time unless they find a cure. Of course. Just his luck.

He looks them up and down again. “You know… I was going to go it alone, but I think there could be benefits to running with the herd. You seem surprisingly capable. What do you say?”

There’s an extended stretch of quiet during which Orianna continues to glare at him. Just as he’s sure she’s going to say no, she instead says, “Fine. We need to get out of here, so we’ll take whatever gives us an advantage. So long as you walk in front, that is.”

He sighs. “Fair.” To the other woman, he says, “Kindly make sure she doesn’t put her dagger through me, won’t you?”

She simply shrugs.

“Fantastic company,” he mutters as he passes them to take the lead. “I’m certain I won’t regret this at all.”

One of them gives a soft snort behind him, though he can’t tell which one.

They scout along the coast for anything useful and come upon camp supplies and a door built right into the sea cliff. When they find it locked, he has a go at picking it open, but his tools aren’t quite right.

“Damn,” he says, shaking off the sting from his pinched finger. “Not this way.”

When he looks back, he sees the maybe-drow-maybe-not regarding him carefully.

“What did you say you did, exactly?” she asks. “For a living.”

“I’m a magistrate back in Baldur’s Gate,” he lies easily, tossing his pick in the air and catching it. “Standard training. Never know when you’ll need to access an arrestee’s home.”

“Sure,” she says, continuing to stare for another moment before she turns away to look through some abandoned crates.

She’s very clever. Surprises upon surprises. He’ll need to watch himself around her. As she turns her back to him, he notices the instrument strapped there for the first time. He’d missed it when he’d simply been interested in putting a dagger to her throat.

A bard? Intriguing. Most bards he’d known were very fun but very dim. Made it that much easier to lure them in. This one, though. She’s got a brain and a honed sense for danger. Bet she’s got a hell of a story.

The other woman – Shadowheart, he’s learned – walks up to them, brushing sand off her hands. “I don’t think there’s another way around,” she says. “We’ll have to go back through the wreckage.”

There’s nothing for it, but the wreck isn’t so bad now that most everything’s dead. When they enter a larger chamber, they freeze as they spot an illithid splayed on the ground. It glares at them, tentacles floating weakly, but doesn’t move to stand or cast.

Astarion’s pulling out an arrow to put through its eye when Orianna steps forward and blocks his line of sight like a complete fool. She walks toward the thing and Shadowheart follows her. Clearly he’d misread both of their mental fortitude. 

He’s about to duck behind a pile of purple something as they get themselves killed, but pauses when the bard raises her boot and smashes the thing’s face in with it. The expression she wears is one of pure hatred. He winces as the tadpole in his head squirms. He gets the distinct sense that the mind-flayer is trying to say something to them, but then the boot comes down again and it’s gone.

Orianna reaches into a pouch on her belt for a pinch of something that looks like ash and throws it violently down at the body before looking around and gesturing him back into position.

He does so, but as he walks by, he gives her the same scrutinizing look she’s been giving him. Her face remains passive but for the slightest tick on one side of her jaw.

Very interesting bard, this one.

They make it up the incline and through the last of the broken ship. There are well-worn paths on the other side, so they choose one and start walking, remaining on alert. When it becomes clear that the immediate danger has passed, Astarion allows himself to lower his bow and take a moment.

He’s… walking in the sun. He’s alive and walking in the sun. Transferring the bow to his off-hand, he holds his palm up and looks at it. His skin is unmarred, but also a color he never gets to see. He hasn’t seen his skin in natural light for more than a century, nearly two.

The sun feels warm. Warmth is something he rarely experiences outside of being threatened with fire.

And he can’t sense Cazador.

That’s the part that really sits like molten metal in his gut. His master is always lurking, always watching. He knows each and every thing Astarion does. The bond between them grants Cazador total dominance over him, a lesson that he has learned again, and again, and again.

Yet here he is, walking free. No snake hissing into his ear, no compulsion forcing his feet toward the palace. No one telling him that he can no longer stand in the sunshine.

He would go on reminiscing, but they’ve just come across an arm sticking out of a glyph on a rockface.

One confusing conversation later, they’re watching a man in blue robes that Orianna just pulled from the portal explain how he came to be stuck inside a wall. Astarion doesn’t track much of the following verbal onslaught beyond the fact that this man does magic and he also has a tadpole in his brain, just like the rest of them.

The bard smiles warmly at the rambling wizard, allowing him to carry on for a while before she diplomatically stops him and agrees that he can tag along.

“Introductions are in order. I’m Gale of Waterdeep,” the new recruit says, inclining his head.

“Orianna,” the bard responds. “You can call me Ori, if you’d like.”

“Ori,” Astarion says. “Cute. I rather like that.”

The sparkle leaves her eyes as she gives him a withering look. “Not you. You don’t get to use nicknames until you make up for trying to stab me in the back.”

Astarion rolls his eyes dramatically. “For fuck’s sake, you already accepted my apology. And I wasn’t going to stab you. Not right then, anyway.”

“Do I… want to rethink my decision to stick with the group?” Gale says, looking between them. “Are you actually a band of murderers and villains?”

Orianna says, “Would it really matter if we were? We’re the only ones here who can help one another out.”

Gale raises his brows and nods. “An excellent point. Onward, then.”

It feels like moments later that they’re standing in a pool of tiefling blood and letting a lady githyanki, of all things, out of a hunter’s trap. The women seem to know one another already, but given the variety of looks ranging from relief to disgust they keep throwing at one another, the relationship is a complicated one.

Astarion wipes off one of his blades while Gale prestidigitates the blood off their shoes. Orianna is speaking to the githyanki, Lae’zel, in low tones. He catches her saying something about leaving no one behind.

“Oh, I get it now,” Astarion says, tucking away his weapons. “You have a savior complex. It all makes sense.”

Orianna looks most unimpressed with him. She shrugs a pack off her shoulder and tosses it his way.

“Tell you what,” she says. “The four of us will scout out that monastery back there for anything worth having. You go ahead and set us up a nice camp somewhere, hm?”

“Is that a joke?” Astarion says.

“No,” she says, walking past him with Shadowheart, who’s obviously infatuated, and the githyanki in tow. Gale gives him a perplexed look before shrugging and handing him a small stone – something, something, locate object spell, blah, blah, blah – before following the ladies.

Honestly, he’s legitimately tempted to steal this pack of supplies and go… where?

He sways on his feet.

Where would he go? And how long would it take Cazador to find him there?

A full-body shudder passes through him and for one terrifying moment, he’s convinced he can feel the creeping chains of his bondage closing around his wrists, but then the feeling’s gone.

“Right,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Set up a camp. Never done that before.”

***

Hours later, he’s watching the sunset from the low branches of a tree when the others stumble upon him. They look very much worse for wear, covered in blood and bone dust. All except for Lae’zel, who seems quite at ease. Still covered in blood, of course, but how much of it is hers, he can’t rightly say.

They drop their belongings and all but collapse beside the fire he started – thank you, elven bloodline, for that handy cantrip. He did all right, he thinks. There’s a fire, he set out some bedrolls, he even made a little hor d'oeuvres plate with the meager rations from the pack. They’d given him enough time to procure a snack of his own, so they were welcome to them.

Gods, it had been alarmingly satisfying to drain a pair of plump rabbits instead of a diseased slip of a rat.

“Long day at the office?” Astarion sing-songs from his perch, leg dangling over the branch. “Do my darlings need a foot massage?”

Gale doesn’t look up from his hundred-meter stare into the fire and responds, “I mean, if you’re offering.”

Astarion chuckles to himself, refocusing on the sun sinking below the horizon. He’s legitimately sorry to see it go. Who knows what the morrow will bring. Today could be the one and only time he ever gets to stand in the light a while.

Below, his tenuous allies eat their meal and retreat to the various nooks they’ve carved out for themselves around the clearing Astarion's found them. They must be exhausted if they’re willing to pass out with no one but him around for security. Idiots.

Some time later, he’s startled out of his jumbled thoughts when a throat clears nearby. He checks the short drop down to find Orianna looking up at him. She’s clean of blood, her hair damp and unmatted as if she’d found a stream to wash up.

“Come on down from there,” she says. “I think we’ve some things to clear up.”

He’s tempted to ignore her out of pure spite, but no, it’s in his best interest to play nice. As nice as he can, anyway. So he holds on to the branch and drops himself to the ground, landing noiselessly beside her.

“What things would those be, pet?” he says nonchalantly.

She jerks her head toward the fire. “Let’s talk over there. It’s cold.”

“Lead the way.”

They sit on the makeshift log bench next to the campfire and he watches her stretch her legs toward the flames, closing her eyes and heaving an exhausted sigh. After a moment, she reaches toward her pack and pulls out the instrument he’d seen earlier. She sets it across her lap and begins to test it.

“Are we going to have it out, or am I here to listen to your rendition of Wonder’s Wall?” he says, looking as bored as he possibly can.

“Let’s start over,” she says.

“Beg pardon?”

She fiddles with a knob on the neck of the instrument, plucking a string and listening. “We’ve just been abducted, submitted to involuntary eye surgery, ripped across a few planes, and landed in a fiery crash. On top of that, we’ll likely be mind-flayers in three days' time if we can’t find a cure. It’s been a bit of a mindfuck. So, let’s start over.” She puts the instrument aside and turns toward him on their log, meeting his eyes. “Hi. I’m Orianna. You can call me Ori, if you’d like.”

He regards her, taking her in fully before he answers. In the light of the fire, he can see freckles smattered across her face and shoulders, adding dimension to her warm-toned gray skin. Her hair remains that unusual pastel pink, but now it’s washed and falls in damp ringlets to just below her chin. Lavender eyes watch him for a response, and near the dip of her throat he sees the beginning of fine line floral tattoos weaving across her collarbones and traveling down her upper arms before disappearing underneath her loose linen top. The thin vines and flowers wind over her forearms as well, all the way to her ring fingers.

“Ever so nice to meet you, Orianna,” he says. “I’m still Astarion.”

She hums an affirmation and picks her instrument back up, apparently satisfied with this exchange. As she begins to softly pick out some chords, he asks, “What is that, anyway? It’s too small to be a lute.”

“It’s a mandolin,” she answers. “They're common where I'm from.”

“I see,” he says. He takes a closer look at the two short black protrusions at the front of her skull. “And what are those horns about?”

She stops her picking and glances at him, but this time it’s with a look of bemused exasperation rather than disdain. “Not one for politeness, are you?”

He gives a short laugh. “Propriety is a sham. The only reason anyone is ever polite is because they want something. Better to just lay the obvious on the table, I say. Did you make a deal with a devil?”

“That’s a bit racist,” she scolds lightly.

“You will notice I asked ‘what are those horns,’ not ‘what are you.’ So? At first I thought you were drow, but that’s not quite right. There’s no tail, so I don’t think you’re a tiefling.”

“I’m not,” she acquiesces. “I’m half-elf. Shadow Fey on my mother’s side.”

He leans back and grins. “Shadow Fey! As in, of the Shadowfell?”

“Well, not me personally. I grew up in the Underdark. Mostly. Either way, the horns are natural.”

He reaches up to run a hand through his hair. “And the pink? Is that… natural?”

“Impolite and cheeky,” she says.

“See, you know me so well already.”

Orianna sets her mandolin aside for good this time and gets up to stretch. She looks down at him and says, “I don’t mind the people around me keeping secrets. Gods know I’m good at it. So, keep your secrets, and I’ll keep mine, and the others will keep theirs. So long as it doesn’t interfere with this convenient little partnership we’ve got going, I think we’ll be fine. Goodnight, Astarion. Wake me when you need to trance and I’ll take watch.”

He tuts at her. “Now, now. I’m an open book.”

She says, “Sure you are, love.” Then she walks off into the dark.

After another few minutes beside the fire, he gets up himself to go lay out his bedroll for later. He walks by a large tree, looks around, yells out, and stumbles backwards into the main clearing.

“Whassat?” the wizard says, eyes gummed shut with sleep as he raises his head from his bedroll. The githyanki is already on her feet with sword in hand.

Astarion whirls on them. “Was anyone going to tell me that there’s a sentient mummified bone man standing by the supplies?” he yells.

***

Beyond the glow of the campfire, Ori sighs to herself as Astarion and Lae’zel escalate to a screaming match on the other side of the clearing. These are going to be the longest three days of her life. The lot she’s wound up with are all capable, certainly, but even if they survive this parasite, it seems unlikely that they’ll survive one another.

Not that it matters. It’s the option available to her, and she hasn’t survived this long by overlooking useful resources or refusing to ask for help.

The tadpole rolls behind her eye and she grits her teeth, rage burning anew at the invasion. She’d only needed one more day. One more fucking day, and she would have accepted whatever the universe decided she deserved. She’d been so close.

“I hate seeing you so angry.”

She closes her eyes, unsurprised at the familiar voice behind her shoulder. Rather than turn or acknowledge it, she kneels and fusses with her bedroll.

“Your laugh brightens the world. I wish I could hear it, still,” the voice says.

“You shouldn’t be here, Elias,” she whispers, finally glancing over. “You can’t be here.”

The figure that sits cross-legged beside her gives a familiar smile. Human, with black hair cut short and hanging shaggy in their golden brown eyes. “I’m not the one who won’t let go.”

“You know what I have to do,” she says, hands clenching into fists.

Elias leans forward. “You don’t have to do anything. You want to do it.”

“She has to pay,” Ori spits. “And yes, I want to make it hurt.”

The figure places a hand over hers. She sees it there, but feels nothing.

“Then I’ll help as best I can,” they whisper, their voice breaking like spider silk on a breeze.

When Ori looks up, Elias is gone, and her new companions are still yelling. She curls up on top of her bedroll and shuts her eyes.

[redgoldblue]

hozier & lake street dive titled ones please heehee 🍓

love won't you be as you've always been (Good Omens)

I refuse to acknowledge that this one may well never come to completion/publication because i love it too much. it's set a couple weeks post-canon (book canon, ignoring anything that may happen in show s2) when Crowley and Aziraphale decide to go on their first proper date only none of their ideas for Proper Date Activities People Do On Dates work out until they finally go 'fuck it let's go watch the ducks'. it has footnotes.

“This is fine. Thisss is fine. Right?”

When there was no reply, Crowley directed a menacing stare and an equally menacing mister at the plant he was talking to. “Right?”

It wobbled slightly in response.

“Ssss.”

Crowley was definitely not nervous, because demons didn’t get nervous, especially not Anthony J. Crowley.[1] And especially not about spending time with someone he had been spending time with for approximately 6000 years. However, he had been hovering in the greenhouse for the last 20 minutes, before which he had been hovering in front of his closet. And the plants were all rather unsettled by the way in which he’d been talking to them, namely, with very little authority and a lot of questions. Most of which he then answered himself, but nevertheless. These were trying times for plants which couldn’t communicate beyond the occasional leaf shudder.

[1] This was a lie. Anthony J. Crowley got nervous every time he jaywalked.

you're in a state of disrepair, you're an answer to my prayers (H50)

heh. well. i've been talking about this one in tags and dms (to people who care about h50) for. a while now. it's currently almost 16k and i'm predicting will probably be 25-30k when it's done which will not be until mid-2023 at the earliest so i will continue seizing any opportunity to ramble about it until then bc it is like a spouse or a neurological infection to me at this point. I've given the basic premise on here before but essentially it's... an unspecified amount of time but probably something like a couple of months post-canon, Steve's still on his Mental Health Trip with Cath when he passes out and gets hospitalised while they try to figure out which of his myriad medical issues caused it. Danny, obviously, flies out bc to quote Steve in it, "When have I ever gone home without you coming to get me?” (although, also to quote Steve later in the same conversation, “I would’ve come home to you anyway.”). They spend basically the entire thing pretending to be a couple in front of the medical staff and pretending not to be a couple in front of friends and family. the latter is much more of a pretense and they're much worse at it. as shown in the two snippets below:

(1)

[...] Danny turns to the nurse, and tells her, “Sorry.” He’s not sure specifically what it’s for, but he’s pretty certain she deserves some sort of apology for having to witness all that.

She smiles and shakes her head. “It’s fine. It seemed to keep his BP steady and lowering, actually.”

“Really?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns back to Steve. “You’re fucked in the head, boy.”

Steve laughs, easy and loose, and pulls Danny closer by the front of his t-shirt. Danny moves with it, because it’s easier than the alternative and also maybe because he wants to be closer, and ends up sitting on the bed next to him. “Yeah,” Steve says, “I’m sure hearing that your partner loves you inevitably raises most people’s blood pressure.”

“That’s not-” Danny says, then gives up before he can even start trying to explain what he meant. Steve knows, anyway, he’s just being difficult. And anything that helps get him through medical crisis number two thousand and three can only be a good thing. “Yeah, okay. If I keep saying it, do you think it will keep bringing it down?”

“Can’t hurt.” 

Danny rests his left hand on the back of Steve’s neck, holding him steady, and says, “I love you,” before kissing the top of his head. “I love you,” he repeats, and kisses him again. “I love you.”

(2)

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“Landed on it when I fell,” Steve explains, and wipes the wince from his face like that’ll get Danny to forget about it. “It’s fine, just bruised.”

“Let me see.” He’s already reaching over, so Steve’s faint, “The doctors already looked at it,” falls on, if not deaf, at least uncaring ears. It’s not like he makes any move to stop Danny from pushing the stylish little number that is his hospital gown off the shoulder in question. Everyone here’s seen it all already.

He wasn’t kidding about the bruise. It’s spread across the peak of his shoulder, stopping just above his tattoo, and it’s starting to come up purple. Even apart from how painful it looks by itself, it suddenly drives home the fact that Steve had fallen. This wasn’t a staggering collapse kind of a bruise, it was passing out, all the way into unconsciousness.

“They gave me painkillers,” Steve says, and Danny realises he’s skimming his fingers across the edges of it. He pulls his hand back, an apology on his lips, but Steve reaches up and takes hold of his hand before it’s halfway across his chest. “It’s okay,” he tells Danny.

Danny accepts that Steve had heard what he hadn’t actually said yet, and clarifies, “I wasn’t gonna say sorry for wanting to see it. I just thought touching it might have hurt. That’s a motherfucker, Steve.”

“Yeah, I think that was what the doctor put in the file. ‘During bout of syncope, patient sustained a motherfucker.’”

Danny laughs, and Steve smiles at him, muted and warm and satisfied, and lets go of his hand.

When Danny looks away from Steve’s smile, Cath is watching them with an odd expression.

“What?” Danny asks.

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I heard you’ve been living in Steve’s house.”

send me a wip name and i'll tell you things about it/present a snippet! show and tell!

[fixated-on-something]

Ok, initially I was never planning to post this fic anywhere- but at the request of @violetsarepurple-fuckyou I will!

(Accidentally posted this to main for a few minutes- oops)

A few words to preface this-

SPOILERS FOR THE MAGICIANS SEASONS 4 AND 5!

This is meant to take place at points during S4 E13 through S5 E3. Bits of canon conversation are kept in, and it’s very very canon adjacent- its more of a slightly changed AU.

It’s implied that much of the conversation between Alice and Eliot in S5 E3 still took place, just slightly changed- this is in a reality in which Eliot did end up sending the letter. I’d imagine this would have to be a situation in which perhaps Alice and Eliot hadn’t quite come to terms with Q’s death (as much as they had in that episode anyway) and were still clinging on.

Every cutoff of the text is a different point in time, it kind of jumps back and forth.

I ALSO BELIEVE that the ending Q got was beautiful, and the conclusion with Eliot and Alice was very nice. This was simply out of curiosity and denial.

Last thing is that I’m not a fic writer- this is the first time I’ve ever dabbled in fanfiction. It was quite literally written at 1 in the morning while I was sobbing over the events of late S4 - Early S5. Therefore, it’s not worded very eloquently or even thought out too much, it was just for fun. That being said I hope someone enjoys it! As a quick little title, I’m gonna call this…

•Letters of denial•

———————^—__—=•=—__—^———————

Eliot stood clutching the letter, his hands shaking. He felt months- if not years worth of bottled emotions rising and falling inside of him as he clenched his jaw and stared at the mailbox. Memories, a whirlwind in his mind- 50 beautiful years. The love and the pain- the door. He got out. He was braver now. And bravery is all this would take. He took in a deep, shuddering breath, recalling the earlier conversation.

———————————•———————————

He had stood beside Alice, stamp in hand. “So there’s no way to know… for sure?” He inquired, almost pleadingly. “No. But, I was once told-“ she turned to face him- “that sometimes to grieve, you’ve gotta do some crazy shit. And this is less crazy than what I did-“ Eliot smirked slightly, and she looked down. “And it could help.” He hesitated before replying- “are you sure that’s- what we want? I mean we said that if we change anything it could be so much worse, and major time fuckery is kinda not the top option here as well as- well you and Q were-“ Alice smiled and shook her head knowingly. “As I said, Q was… complicated. I couldn’t ever demand that he only love me. How could he? You two had a life together that- I’ll never have with him. And as much as that- hurts, I- I know that you were able to share that and that’s- amazing. What’s important is that- I care about him and he for me… that doesn’t mean I can be the only one.” She glanced up at him again. “He… really loved you, El.” He looked away. “I wouldn’t say that-“ “I would.” She held his gaze. “And you love him. And you never got to tell him. I did. If you have a way to tell him, do it. We both know he deserves that much.” Eliot stepped towards the pit, hesitating. “I know” she murmured. He turned around. She continued- “I’m scared too. But, I know that no matter how things change, he still cares- cared- about me. This time, he did. And… that’s enough.” She paused. “Do it, El.”

———————————•———————————

Eliot sat, head in his hands. Was it worth it? There are so many ways things could change- there was no guarantee it would be for the better. Maybe his sacrifice would be for nothing. Maybe- maybe it was still worth it. He closed the envelope, kissing the seal.

———————————•———————————

As he stared into the mailbox, his eyes stung with the tears springing to his eyes. He looked down at the delicately addressed letter- Quentin Coldwater: Before the seam. He knew what it contained. Its danger. He knew he should let go but- how could he live with himself, knowing Q would never- he dropped the letter into the mailbox and exhaled sharply as he closed it. Shit. “What did I just do what do do just do-“

———————————•———————————

Quentin sat on the staircase, watching Alice as she left. He felt oddly at peace- even as he suppressed the turmoil within him. It was quiet. This was dangerous. This was so dangerous he could- no. No use thinking of every horrible possibility. He thought of Eliot instead, which was almost worse. Eliot, in the infirmary. Eliot, who might finally be alright. He should be with him- but there was no time. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than to talk to him, even just for a few minutes. After everything, there was still so much unsaid and now- well now he didn’t know. As he rested his head in his hands, he heard a shuffling. He looked up to see a letter, drifting to the floor. Picking it up gingerly, he read the address- Quentin Coldwater: Before the seam. He sat there for a moment, in shock- it was El’s handwriting. Was he recovering this quickly? How did he manage to get a letter from the infirmary? He delicately opened the envelope, removing a carefully folded piece of paper.

Q. Truthfully, there is much more that I would like to say. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t. What I can say is that you are brave. So much braver than any of us. I love you, Q- and I always will. But you already knew that. I mean- 50 years, who gets a proof of concept like that? I’m sorry for being so scared. I’m sorry for running.

-Yours forever, Eliot

He stared, stunned, at the paper- scanning it over and over. Before he could stop them, tears began running down his cheeks. This could only mean a few things- and none of them were good. At the same time, his heart swelled. How he had received this letter, he didn’t know. He flipped the envelope over to examine the stamp. It only took him a second to realize what it was. Fillory and further. Jane. This was sent through time. He didn’t know from when- but it didn’t really matter, did it?

———————————•———————————

As he stared into Everett’s eyes, he suddenly knew what the letter meant. “Take her. Do it. Now.” 23 began to pull Alice from the room as she screamed in protest. He felt the magic surge through his hands. Everything drowned out as the cracks began to mend. “What did you DO-“ Everett spat, promptly cut off- “Just minor mending.” The man’s face filled with horror and rage. “GIVE IT TO ME!” He screamed, as he launched himself at Quentin. Everything slowed down. As the cracks healed, he propelled the vial towards the mirror. It had to be timed perfectly. This was the only chance. He felt the sparks in the air- ready to ignite. Alice clawed for the door as 23 pulled her away. The final cracks sealed as Everett launched himself at the mirror, the vial passing through. It was done. Sparks ricocheted through the room, burning through Everett until nothing was left. Quentin turned and ran for the door. As he leapt, he made eye contact with Alice- he saw her in the last moments as she was pulled around the corner, wailing. A piercing in his back- and then numb. Then another. A thousand times. He felt it take him. He felt peace. He felt- love. Love, as he faded. Love as nothing remained.

Honestly I started this side blog because I need to be contained

For context, I have never written fanfiction for anything. Ever. This show compelled me to.

(I will most likely never post it here, simply because it’s not well written or anything it was just to ease my grief at the events of late season 4 and early season 5)

I am pounding on the walls of my enclosure

[sansaery-theonsa]

Rhaenyra x Alicent fic recommendation

This list is not final and will be updated. i read many good ones (and some of them you guys sent me!!) but this few are the ones i found on AO3 and not here and decided to share

ps many of this stories are 18+ , I haven't written which one id what but the authors did so check notes

Paltry is the passion that never makes us shudder by WhimperSoldier (finished - 1/1)

It was painful, but only at first, then it was peaceful, even when armored men and unfamiliar Targaryens poured forth to gawk at her. They all wore unfamiliar faces, and looked on with unknowing eyes. Had this been what Rhaenyra had felt in those last moments, as she stared into the maw of Sunfyre and was only watched by the twisted snears of those who hated her?

She let her head slip back and the sunset had the shimmer of Syrax's scales and with her final breath gave a soft dracrarys and imagined the dragon's mouth pouring forth fire to cleanse her clean. She was the Mad Queen of Megor's Holdfast, and she would not give them the satisfaction. Red, red, red staining the bark so that one couldn't distinguish the leaves from the roots.

Then with a painful jerk, as if she were ripped free from her skin, she woke with a shout.

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A wedding of fire and blood - By hagtower on Ao3 (finished 7/7)

Before Alicent realized what she was doing, before she heard the shouts commanding her to stop, to put the knife down, she’d grabbed the very same dagger that had pierced her son in the face and gracefully marched toward Rhaenyra, every unshed tear that had threatened to fall finally cascading down her face like a raindrop on a glass window.

or; a story of old friend's reconciling and mending what once was due to ... a mere accident.

(A/N: The premise of this fic is essentially Rhaenyra not having been pierced by Valyrian steel yet (although we see it later in the episode when Rhaneyra traditionally marries Daemon) and someone points out that now, Rhaenyra and Alicent are technically engaged. They both agree (begrudgingly of course) and chaos will ensue in the coming chapters.)

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You Broke Me by skullgamerscy (updating/unfinished)

“Hate.” She mutters looking up from her hands to Alicent. “I could never hate you Alicent. No matter how hard I try I could never hate you.”

“Then why-“

“You really don’t know.” Rhaenyra stops Alicent question. If they are going to have this talk then she is going to be the one in control. Alicent shakes her head. Clarity erupts within Rhaenyra. She had known. It was all in her head. Alicent wasn’t aware of her feelings. Alicent never felt the same way. It was just something Rhaenyra had built up on her head to make herself feel better. To assure herself that what she was feeling wasn’t wrong. “I loved you Alicent."

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we are the storm by thedevilsgarden (finished 4/4)

Summary: After the death of Aemond Targaryen, Rhaenyra ascends the throne; she and Alicent rebuild.

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you don't know what love is (if you don't put up a fight) by tansymeadows (updating/unfinished)

Rhaenyra and Alicent find solace. Or, The King lives long enough for the princess to return on dragonback and change what is to come.

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Say yes by Kacchi (finished 1/1)

Queen Aemma Arryn survives and The Dance of the Dragon never happens. Two years after the queen offers the recently widowed Alicent Hightower a post in the Red Keep, Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen asks for a favor.

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This is What Love Feels Like by Kacchi (finished 1/1)

The Dance of the Dragons happens much earlier and House Velaryon ascends to the Iron Throne. Years after the war, Alicent comes to King's Landing to woo the crown prince but she ends up meeting a disgraced princess by the river instead.

***I read all of the rhaelicent works kacchi written so far and loved them all, this two just captured me the most. Here's the link to their AO3 page ***

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Right Where You Left Me by enaraux (finished 1/1)

An attempt to rekindle any remaining friendship causes a shocking revelation that neither Rhaenyra nor Alicent expected.

❛ and it's been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong, i'm right where you left me. ❜

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The Princess's Plan by ChocolateCookieCream (unfinished/updating)

After the announcement that Alicent is to be married to her father, Rhaenyra decides to take matters into her own hands and calls Alicent to her chambers late at night. PWP. Very M-rated smut. Intersex. G!P Rhaenyra x Alicent.

A/N: THIS FIC CONTAINS EXPLICIT SMUT. RHAENYRA IN THIS FIC IS INTERSEX AND HAS A PENIS. THERE ARE SPOILERS POST-EPISODE 2 IF YOU STILL HAVE NOT SEEN THE SHOW YET. ALL CHARACTERS INVOLVED ARE OVER 18. PLEASE ENJOY!

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Ascension by teamgreen10 (finished 6/6)

What would happen if Viserys had died at that table, in the middle of the family dinner? This fic is my version of an answer to that question.

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The Heir by teamgreen10 (finished 5/5)

Alicent has always done what's expected of her. Without question, without argument. Her father always impressed upon her the necessity of perfection. Hard work, diligence, and attention to detail is what made this company successful, he says, and if Alicent intends to inherit it someday, she needs to prove herself worthy. Don't trust anyone, that's his most important rule, but above all, NEVER trust a Targaryen.

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Never Shall We Die by teamgreen10 (finished 10/10)

Following the death of the Pirate King Viserys, the council commiserates to choose their next King. Rhaenyra Targaryen, captain of the ship called Syrax, sees her opportunity to claim her father's crown as her own. And she has a plan. One so bold, none have ever tried before. A plan that involves kidnapping Governor Hightower's daughter.

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Love, Duty, and Everything Between by Autorand7291 (unfinished/updating)

An alternate retelling of the relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra. The characters are reimagined as a little bit older at the beginning of the story. The story starts around the same time as episode 2 after Rhaenyra gets home from Dragonstone and speaks with her father. Rhaenyra runs into Alicent and cannot wait to tell her all about her run-in with Prince Daemon on Dragonstone. What would happen if a friendly nightcap caused some buried truths to come to life between lifelong friends? Would Alicent and Rhaenyra do things differently if they knew about each other's true feelings before it was too late?

Will have alternating POVs. The timeline, storyline, and ages will not adhere to the show/book canon.

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High Tower of the Dragons by ChaseAphrodite (unfinished/updating)

Fire and Blood were more than the words of the Targaryens. They were Valyria's words.And magic, especially ancient magic... It always came with a price.

Or

The accidental marriage between Lady Alicent Hightower and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen after the Vhagar incident.

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On the mend by thedevilsgarden (finished 1/1)

When Rhaenyra first met her, Alicent was living in Oldtown, crushed under the weight of her father's thumb. (Modern AU)

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dog person by spookyscaryskeletons (Buttons15) - (finished i think 8/8)

“You’re staring.”

“Just thinking, my princess.”

Rhaenyra turned sideways, moving into a position that changed her center of balance and was twice as risky. A few centimeters to the side, Alicent could all but see it - splat on the ground. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“My thoughts are worth far more than that.”

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All you know (painting around) By violetsblackgarden (finished 3/3)

Where what you write on your skin, reflects on that of your soulmate. barista! Rhaenyra - lawyer!Alicent - Soulmates AU.

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The Rogue Princess by sapphicsmaximoff (unfinished/updating)

Once upon a time, Otto Hightower, the hand of the King, named Daemon Targaryen a 'Rogue Prince'. Some hated him, and some loved him. What the Hand hadn't expected was for Daemon's influence to leak onto his niece, Rhaenyra.

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Somewhere between Faith and Desire by Ladyamy (unfinished/updating)

When Alicent is betrothed to Rhaenyra, the friends take on the challenges of duty, love, faith, and desire.

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Kryptonite by dragondance23 (unfinished/updating) (smuth)

Alicent and Rhaenyra are high school sweet hearts now turned exes trying to be 'just friends.' It doesn't help that Rhaenyra is an newly presented alpha and Alicent is an omega. What could possibly go wrong? (The answer is that a lot could and WILL could wrong along the way)

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the knight princess and the lady of fire by violetsblackgarden (unfinished/updating)

Rhaenyra wants to be loyal, brave and protect her family and her people. All Lords are the same; heartless. All ladies are the same; empty. Or so she thought, until she saw her and her heart was set on fire. or where Rhaenyra meets Alicent for three seconds and her blood roars as its recognizes her soul mate. Obviously, she thinks she's having a heart attack.

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Figure You Out by fiefdom (unfinished-updating) - none binary Rhaenyra

Rhaenyra and Viserys haven't spoken since the death of their mother, but that doesn't mean they're about to let him marry some gold-digger half his age. They'll just have to show him that Alicent isn't as sweet, or as funny, or as charming as she seems.

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The dragon fire series by Shadysider ( 5 part series)

A new outtake on Alicient and Rhaenyra's relationship following the knife incident.

* Its just generally really good. It's wholesome, heartwarming and painfully satisfying. There's also some steamy parts as well for those who are interested in it.

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where fire and ice meet by wariangle (finished 4/4)

For almost a year, it had been thoughts of Alicent – of her scent, her smile, her care, and the secret, hidden sound she made when Rhaenyra made her come, and of forbidden fantasies of taking her to Dragonstone on Syrax’s back and marrying her in the custom of House Targaryen of old, binding themselves together with steel and blood – that had sustained her. The joy of knowing that she would return not to the childhood companion she had unwittingly lusted after for so long, but to the woman who had responded to her advances and, Rhaenyra had thought, returned her affection. She had been so very wrong.

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Wandering souls, blooming in unison by Lumyart (finished)

Rhaenyra runs to a small village to escape her obligations, hoping to find peace and calm to inspire her inner artist. Alicent has a similar idea.

There, they find their home.

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extension by thedevilsgarden (finished 1/1) - this one made me cry

The day Jace is born, Rhaenyra takes one look at his scrunched-up face, his pink mouth, and falls madly in love. But Alicent cradles him in her arms, and doesn't seem to feel a thing. (Modern Parenting AU)

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'tis the damn season by @geralehane (updating)

ex-childhood friends and almost-lovers Rhaenyra and Alicent have to reunite for Christmas at the Targaryen’s Dragonstone Manor. it goes about as well as one would think (very, in the end).

*Pure chaos , holiday warmth and daemon supremacy (literally the only version of him i ever loved).

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fill my lungs with sweetness (and fill my head with you) By barbiewrites (finished 1/1 - words 19,410)

Alicent finds, once again, that making friends is not as easy as the movies have made it seem.

* This story is *cheff kiss* 🥲🥹 its sweet, its wholesome, its awkward and honestly so SO good- and rhaenyra stans will be delighted

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silk chiffon by iwantthemtostay (finished 1/1)

Alicent’s mouth is dry and her palms are sweaty and she’s wondering if it’s still gay panic if she’s very sure she’s gay and she’s queueing for the concert of a very gay band. Aka Alicent goes to a concert (and gets the girl)

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cleopatra by dontaskmedude (finished 8/8)

But I must admit it, I would marry you in an instant - Damn your wife, I'd be your mistress just to have you around OR sometimes a family can be a lesbian, her stepdaughter, her gay husband, his lover and their eight children

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every vote counts by beepboop (permanganato) (finished 3/3)

Rhaenyra Targaryen’s campaign should be a disaster. She has a weirdly close relationship with her uncle, had an affair with Harwin Strong while married to Laenor Velaryon, dates celebrities of all genders and swears on prime-time television. She goes viral on social media, comes from old money but leads a left-leaning campaign and says the truth in interviews.

This senate race should be a slam dunk. The easiest win of Alicent’s career.

Instead, she wakes up to learn Rhaenyra is beating her father’s candidate by fifteen points in the polls.

This country is fucked.

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Let's Spend Every Year Like This by DMCMercy (finished 1/1)

Rhaenyra Targaryen spends the holiday season with the Hightowers for the first time, learning all of their quirks and traditions, with hopes to grow closer to her girlfriend's family.

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oh, and i wonder by barbiewrites (finished 1/1- 24,225 words)

rhaenyra invites alicent and her family to a week at her estate.

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In the Dragon’s Eye by Poptop1698 (unfinished/updating)

The Dance of the Dragons is over. Alicent Hightower has been confined to the holdfast, both a queen and a traitor all at once. She has been left to ponder her mistakes and failures, and according to many whispers, she is slowly going mad. One day she receives an unexpected visitor who will force her to revisit her past and her feelings for her childhood friend.

**This one is easily one of the most painful and heartbreaking fics I've read, but oh man, a part of the writer incredible writing skills, they also captured the characters so well and i feel like if something like that will happen after the dance, it will be incredibly painful and necessary in a way. a sight into rhaenyra's mind and Alicent's haunting guilt and memories. I give this one 10/10 with this emoji ❤️‍🩹

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The Affair By SquirrelThatDoesCrack (unfinished/updating)

Alicent and Rhaenyra are together, to bad Alicents husband doesn’t know

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blame it on fate By Lumyart (finished 10/10)

Hosting the country's most popular morning show together is bound to create tension in the most sweetly cruel of ways. Rhaenyra has spent the past year working by Alicent's side learning all about that - the hatred, the admiration, and the unrelenting conflicts. Alicent Hightower is running the show like a queen in her realm and for a reason that is only hers to know, she has decided to make every day of Rhaenyra's life a living nightmare. Nothing either of them has not fully incorporated into their routine by now.

However, it seems fate has a mind of its own and plans that do not always end in Alicent's control when they find themselves having to travel to Lapland for HTV's Christmas specials and spending a week basking in snow and coldhearted drama that heats up their relationship in more ways than one.

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you’ve got your demons (darlin’ they all look like me) by geralehane (finished 2/2)

Rhaenyra reincarnates, over and over again.

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grey ridge (ríl liatroma) by molter (finished 8/8)

“It’s only the first year,” Rhaenyra used to say, broken down at the breakfast table by the window in their London flat with her head in her hands. “It’ll get better, after this. We just need to right our ship.”It was loving in the beginning. (a collection of snapshots before it falls apart // a schematic of reconstruction after)

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A True Heir by Revans_Mask (finished 27/27)

When Rhaenyra Targaryen presents as an alpha, it sets in motion a chain of events that could change both her relationship with Alicent Hightower and the future of the Seven Kingdoms forever. (Or at least make a great deal of trouble for everyone involved)

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Falling From Hightower by ohsnapitzalli (38/38)

Rhaenyra is the heir to multi-billion dollar corporation - Targaryen Industries. Alicent is the daughter of the Targaryen Industries COO. They become fast friends at a young age and learn to navigate life together from high school to college to adulthood.

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pay you back by beepboop (finished 8/8)

Alicent thinks she’s met a struggling single mom out of a job. Rhaenyra thinks she’s met somebody to have some casual fun with while she worries about taking over her father’s company.

They’re both wrong, kind of.

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Sleeping Dragon by WanderingFan (finished 10/10)

Three years ago, the wicked sorcerer Otto Hightower cursed Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen to fall into a death-like slumber. Since that fateful day, Lady Alicent Hightower has toiled day and night trying to break her father’s curse. It is said that only true love’s kiss can wake the queen. Unfortunately, Alicent doesn’t believe in such silly things. Or: A Sleeping Beauty AU starring Rhaenicent.

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Not on the Last Day by Revans_Mask (finished 20/20)

But the very last. With the Seven Kingdoms on the brink of civil war, Alicent risks everything by reaching out to Rhaenyra one final time. After all the years of pain, is there still enough left of their old bond to save the realm and perhaps allow them a chance at happiness?

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Easy Lover by Smitty1314 (finished 10/10)

Alicent Hightower has just accepted a job as an assistant physio with the English National Women's football team as they prepare for the European Championships. Star recruit Rhaenyra Targaryen strikes up a friendship with the new physio as she shoulders her family legacy and strives to bring football home.

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Of Wine and Royal Cocktail by LunaLuthor98 (finished 11/11)

Alicent was one of those omegas that saw herself with the standard two story house, picket fence, two kids and a dog kind of future. Whenever she dated someone or thought of dating them, she always had to make sure they were ambitious, hard working, dedicated, compromised with a good head on their shoulders. You know someone she could have a stable future with.

And you know what? She found them or at least she thought she did.

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Fire in the Belly by Revans_Mask (finished 8/8)

Presenting as an alpha is the worst thing that could've happened to Alicent Hightower. Not only will it end her friendship with Rhaenyra, her father is going to send her far, far away in order to make sure she doesn't bring shame to the Hightower name. Unless, of course, she and Rhaenyra can find some way to to turn this to their advantage...

[sillyrabbit81]

The Instructor Part 2

Summary: You and Agent Walker meet again

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Word Count: approx 2.4k

Warnings: angst, smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

The Instructor Part 2

A month came and went.

Then six weeks.

Seven.

Eight.

Then you stopped counting.

You felt used, and grew angry. The submissive part of your nature had been taken advantage of and you swore it wouldn’t happen again. Never again would you allow your desires to be seen by any man, let alone by Agent Walker. You collect your memories of him, gather them into a box, seal it tight and bury it in the darkest corner of your mind. You don’t even bring it out on lonely nights anymore, it hurts too much.

You focus on work and fall into your new routine: wake up, work out, work late, eat take out, sleep, repeat. The days soon melted into one, weekends forgotten as the routine is the same as weekdays. Your work was repetitive and uninspiring. You were a junior Agent after all. You knew to expect a few years of grunt work before anything meaningful. You kept your head down and did what you had to do, hoping your diligence paid off and the higher ups noticed.

Despite your hard work, you were surprised when you were called into your boss’s office for a new assignment. She tells you that an opening came up on a surveillance team in the field focussed on a group of foreign nationals. She told you strictly that there would be no interaction with the group, surveillance only. You agree to the new posting, thankful for the break in monotony and chance to develop your skills.

“Just a moment, here is the lead Agent now.” She says.

You turn as the door opens and Agent Walker strolls in, his clipped yet casual gait doesn’t falter as he notices you. A lump rises in your throat as you see him for the first time in months. You don’t know how to feel, but your body reacts. With a pounding heart and clenching stomach, you keep your features smooth as possible, allowing the smallest hint of a smile to widen your lips. An appropriate response to seeing your old instructor, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes flicker with recognition, his small smile and nod was just as appropriate. He says to your boss, “Is this the addition to the team?”

“Do you two know each other?”

You don’t deny it. You’re not stupid enough to believe your boss doesn’t know every Agent you’ve ever interacted with so you say, “Of course, Agent Walker was one of my instructors at The Farm.” Boldly you continue speaking more for Walker’s benefit than your boss, “But I haven’t seen him in… what is it Agent? Four months?”

“Four and a half,” he replies, with a tilt of the head.

“Four and a half,” you repeat. Like bile rising in your throat, anger fills you and for a moment you know he sees it. Forcing the rising tide of fury down you say, “Well, time flies when you’re having fun.” You bare your teeth at him in what you hope your boss takes as a smile and Walker takes for the ‘fuck you’ it was. Walker narrows his eyes at you then turns his attention to your boss.

You discuss more details of the case and travel arrangements then you are dismissed. Leaving the two of them together you tidy your desk of personal belongings since you didn’t know when or if you would return and go home to prepare.

Once you are through the gates of Langley and no longer under direct video surveillance you start to shake. Seeing him again rocked you to your core you hoped you hadn’t given anything away with your comments. Was it a coincidence that you were promoted and put in his team or had he asked for you? Neither Walker or your boss had given anything away. No time to think about it now, you had packing to do and less than two hours to get to the airbase where you would be sent to DC for the job.

You showered quickly, resisting the urge to release some of the growing tension in your gut. You hadn’t touched yourself in months and you wouldn’t start now.

Trying to push thoughts of Agent Walker from your mind was a futile task. Instead you focussed on keeping your anger raw so you wouldn’t fall under his spell again. You had accepted that he wasn’t coming back. Did he have a knack for that? Only showing himself to you when you had moved on. You wouldn’t let him take you easily this time, this time he would not get satisfaction, not after what he had done. You shake your head, ‘this time’ you say, recognising the lies you tell yourself.

You start to get dressed when you hear a short rap on the door. Fuck, the car had arrived early. You pull a robe on as you answer the door, to let the driver know you’ll be a few more minutes.

Throwing the door wide, you’re greeted by Agent Walker, his face firm, furrowed brows looking you up and down. The collar of his dark woollen coat is pulled up, framing his face drawing your attention to his piercing stare. Frozen for a moment, you can do nothing but return his gaze. You’re a deer in headlights until he sucks his lower lip into his mouth and your body is propelled into action.

You slam the door closed, but he is quicker than you, a huge paw catching it and he forces his way into your apartment. You back away, but he kicks the door closed behind him and advances, with predatorily confident and rapid steps.

He catches your throat and brings you to him. He skin is rough with unshaven hair that is yet to grow soft. His lips are so smooth and warm, that you can’t help but melt into him. You hate him.

When he pulls away, he smiles at you almost sweetly and you can’t help the hand that flies on its own and makes a loud crack as it hits Walkers cheek.

You’re both stunned. Walker tongues his cheek and works his jaw a moment. “I hope you enjoyed that, pet. The first one is free, but the next one will come at a price.” He doesn’t seem angry, in fact his tone suggests amusement, which only fuels your rage.

“Get out,” you say. You try and keep your voice steady, but you know it warbled with fear as you looked into his eyes.

“No,” Walker says. He casually removes his coat folding it neatly and laying it over the back of your dining chair. He removes his scarf, placing it on top of his coat before he unbuttons his dark brown suit jacket and loosens his tie. You watch him, mind fixated on each of his careful movements. As if he were performing burlesque show, each minute act became a piece of seduction.

He sits in another chair and pats his lap, “Come, pet.” He calls to you in his gentle authoritative voice.

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step towards him. But then you notice his smirk, and you shrink away. You can’t speak but you shake your head as you retreat towards your bedroom.

Walker starts to look irritated and his voice gains a hard edge that both terrifies you and thrills you. “Come. Here,” he repeats. “I won’t say it again, pet.”

“Fuck you, Walker,” you spit out, your anger spilling from you, becoming a torrent as you wrestle within yourself.

He peers at you with his contemplating blue eyes. Then he sighs and moves before you can even register his actions. You turn, to run, but he is quicker and stronger. But more than that, his desire to have you is stronger than your desire to run.

His vice like arms trap you as he forces you against the wall, his body pressing into your back. “Why do you fight me, pet?” His voice rumbles into your ear. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Your tears came then, the rejection you felt was no longer able to be contained. That box of memories, buried for months smashes apart and so does your control. “You left me,” you sob. “You used me then left me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, ashamed at how quickly you relented and told him anything. You laugh at yourself, why did you believe even for a second you could hide anything from him? The only man who saw into your very soul.

“I know, pet,” Walker drones, his lips caressing your ear as he does. “I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know,” you reply.

His hand is in your hair, smoothing the strands away from your face. His tender touch was unexpected but welcome. You feel soft kisses on your eye lids and you slowly stop crying. His tongue comes out, licking at your wet cheeks and you hear his breathing shudder as he laps up your pain.

You open your eyes, he growls as your shining eyes meet his. He plants a foot between your legs forcing them apart while he undoes his belt and pants and you hear them crumple to the floor. His hand tilts your hips back for him while the other pulls aside your underwear as he roughly explores your centre, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You hear a muttered, “Fuck,” as his finger enters you, circling your walls, stretching you before a second enters. “Fuck, pet. Have you touched yourself at all since I fucked you?”

Unsure of what he would think, you reply hesitantly, “No. You said I was yours.”

Walkers features soften as he says, “I knew you were a good girl.” Your whole body bursts into flames and your core clenches around his thick, thrashing fingers as you hear his whispered praise.

With precise and sudden movements, his fingers are withdrawn and his broad, leviathan cock bludgeons into you. Biting down on your lips to supress the cry growing in your throat you savour the feeling of being torn apart. Wasting no time, Walker moves with vicious, aggressive speed, wounding you with his thrusts, ripping apart your defences.

Pulling down your robe, he exposes your chest. His wanton hands knead your breasts as he uses them for leverage, his pounding never stops. You hear his breaths primal and raw as he assaults your neck with his mouth and teeth. He moves his depraved mouth to your shoulders sinking his teeth in deep. The pain feels like a caress when you are this close to the edge.

Walker turns you around, lifts your leg to his hip as he enters you again. His eyes are clinical as he studies your reaction. You feel boneless under his scrutiny and close your eyes again looking away. Walker grips your throat in his hand and uses his long fingers to push your cheek back in his direction.

“Open your eyes, pet,” he orders. “I know you’re close. I want to see your eyes when you call my name.”

The pressure builds deep within your gut as you keep your eyes glued to his. His breath, warm and minty with a hint of gin maybe, tickles at your cheek. You want to kiss him, taste him, feel his tongue invade you and devour you. You silently beg him to and as if hearing your thoughts, he slowly moves his mouth to yours. His eyes stay open as he flicks his tongue over your lips before taking your lower lip between his teeth.

Like a taut elastic, your core grows tighter and your knee gives out as the rush of warmth whips through your body. He lets go of your lip in time for you to shout “August!”

Your body pulses and your tightening muscles strain with contractions until you feel all the tension fall away. Like a rag doll you slump against him. But he isn’t finished with you.

Walker lifts your lulling head with a firm thumb under your chin, He continues his frenzied thrusts with a new vigour having succeeded in his task. He fucks your listless body, you’re too spent to move, and he doesn’t care. With a stuttering final thrust he pushes deep into you, clenching his teeth, whiskered lip raised in a snarl as he growls with his final throes.

He raised his hand to your face, his thumb laying a single burning caress down your tear stained cheek. “Go wash up, I’ll pack for you,” he says before pulling away and doing up his pants.

You shower again, consciously cleaning August’s seed spilling slowly from your ruined core. Each time you think you’re clean, you feel more leaking from you and you wash again. The bathroom door opens and August enters making a show of looking at his watch.

You sigh, and turn the shower off. His eyes inspect your body as he hands you a towel. He makes no effort to leave as he watches you towel off and you awkwardly squeeze past him as you make your way to your bedroom. He has laid an outfit on your bed, complete with underwear and shoes. Your gun is on your bed in its holster with spare clips by its side. You don’t say anything to him and dress in the clothes he chose and slipped your holster onto your belt, pocketing the spare clips.

Walker is waiting at the door with your overnight bag in his hand. You give the apartment a quick look over, making sure everything is turned off and sling your handbag over your shoulder. August opens the door for you, and as you slip past him his arm wraps around your waist and he kisses you.

The deep demanding kiss you wanted earlier was nothing compared to this, his lips were bruising and hard, but his tongue explored your mouth with a soft insistence. Your hands were free and for the first time, you touched him, laying a hesitant hand on his chest, and another on his neck. His skin felt hot under yours and testing his limits you slid your fingers into his hair and were rewarded with a barely audible groan.

Then he pulled his head away with a jerk and without looking at you said, “Go to the car. You’re making us late.”

Disappointed but not surprised you went to the car wondering where this assignment would take the two of you.

Part 3

Tag List

@henryobsessed @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @posiemax @nostalgicb-txh @moonlacebeam @anitababi @agniavateira

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 5)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 3.2k

warnings: more smut (we’re picking right up where we left off last chapter) including some shower shenanigans and lots of dirty talk, relationship conversations, mention of bucky’s military background, really that’s just it...

Maybe it had been hours in Bucky's arms, maybe it had been a lifetime.  You were floating on air, suspended in pleasure as he rocked your body against his, still fucking you even though he'd already come once and you'd come too many times to count.

"Bucky," you whined, back arching even though you figured you were too weak for that.  "Baby, please— s-so good, you're so good…"

Metal fingers pinching your nipple sent your body into overdrive, exhausted inner muscles clenching around him as you cried out.

When he leaned down and kissed you again, you were afraid that you'd be too out of it to kiss him back.  But thankfully you managed to reciprocate, grabbing the hair at the back of his neck to hold him close as you whimpered softly against his lips.

He pulled back just enough to look down at you with dark, half-lidded eyes.  "Fuck, I'm gonna come again," he moaned like he was just as shocked as you were.  

"Yes!" you encouraged feverishly.

"This perfect little pussy is gonna make me come again, baby, is that what you want?  Want me to put another load in this needy cunt?"

"God, yes," you sobbed, his words so perfectly balanced between sweet and filthy.

"Well, I'm gonna," he promised through his teeth.  "Fuck, I'm gonna give you everything, pretty girl, I'm so close."

You couldn't remember the exact words you used but you were definitely begging him for it, completely lost in your need and, apparently, totally lacking in shame.

That weak, broken, desperate moan as he came inside you for the second time in a night… you wanted to bottle it up and keep it for rainy days, and sunny days, and all the days you'd ever see because it was just absolutely fucking divine.

"Don't move," he demanded with a whisper, "fuck, don't move, please."

"Couldn't if I wanted to," you laughed quietly.  He started laughing too, but not so much a 'this is funny' laugh compared to a 'is this real?' laugh.

"Fuck," he breathed, "that was… I didn't know I could do that."

"We're all learning new things about ourselves and our body's capabilities tonight, trust me."

"I'm gonna attempt to pull out without my dick falling off, okay?"

You chuckled through your exhaustion.  "Fingers crossed!"

You couldn't decide which was more lewd: the way it felt, or the way it looked.  In credit to the first, you were confident that even through the numbness that had begun to spread through your body, you still managed to feel every detail of his cock against the spongy ridges of your channel as it slid out of you, followed (of course) by the warm, slow ooze of come dripping down onto your sheets.  As for the second, well, his cock looked pretty glorious as it bounced back up against his abs, incredibly still hard but certainly starting to soften, glistening with your slick and his come and looking so lovely that you were compelled to sit up and lick it clean.  You would've if you weren't (1) so exhausted that you were sure you'd never sit up ever again, and (2) confident that any more stimulation to Bucky's poor cock would just be painful for him.

"Jesus fuck," he sighed as he watched his come leak out of your abused, swollen hole, admiring his handiwork; you giggled from both the odd feeling of his gaze on you like this and the comical way his swearing had deteriorated over the course of the night into half-assed blasphemy.

He fell down beside you on the bed, looking up at the ceiling before glancing to you with a smirk that was clearly tired but still plenty smug.  “God, I haven’t come twice in a row like that since… I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before, actually,” he laughed.

“I know for a fact I’ve never come that many times in a row,” you giggled.

"I uh… I need a shower.  And a year-long nap," he announced with a deep sigh.

"Use mine," you offered.  "I'll join you in a minute if you can promise to keep your hands to yourself."

"I don't know about that," he chuckled, "but I can definitely promise to keep my dick to myself."

"That'll do," you smiled as you watched him stretch and get up, grabbing his discarded boxers before slipping into your bathroom.

You took another deep breath and fought against the giddy smile that refused to leave your face.  Though you knew you had no right to be so happy over something as silly and frivolous as a guy, you let yourself get excited about this guy.  This guy who had made you feel safe when you thought you never would again.  This guy who had been a friend to you when it seemed like everyone else just wanted to get close to an alleged celebrity.  This guy who had already given it to you better than anybody ever had only to do it again without even stopping.

As likely as it was that your infatuation with him was preventing you from seeing all the flaws that every person and relationship were bound to have, it was hard not to think that this guy was everything you’d been waiting for.  Now all you had to do was try not to fuck it up.

//

Bucky sighed as he stepped into the stream of hot water, careful not to slip as his tired legs begged for more rest.  It was a hell of a workout, but then again, he'd never felt quite this good after a real workout.

It was all a little too good to be true; he was sort of assuming that he would wake up any minute now, in his own bed downstairs and with a mess in his boxers to take care of.  And he wasn't even mad about it, because who could be mad about a dream this wonderful?

If he was going to wake up soon, he was going to take advantage of the time he had left in his dream.  After a few moments alone, you slipped into the bathroom and opened the glass shower door, looking like everything he'd ever wanted with your messy hair and post-sex glow.

"Don't hog the hot water," you groaned as you pushed him aside, but you were smiling a little and he was perfectly content to just watch you from the corner anyways.

Well, not just watching; of course he had to reach out and run his hands over your skin, feel the warmth of you pressed against his body as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against his chest.  You hummed contentedly at his touch and the sound went straight to his cock, which swelled a bit where it was pressed against your hip.

You reached up and wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, his hands moving up to gently run over your breasts and stomach where the water was hitting.

He hesitantly ventured into kissing your neck before finally sliding his hand between your legs and grinning at the feeling of his own come leaking out of you.  You were so sensitive that you gasped and shivered just from that little touch, your little moans enough to drive him absolutely crazy (if he hadn't been already).

Two fingers slid into you easily; he decided to take credit for stretching you out so well, both of you sighing as he pushed in deeper.

"Bucky," you groaned, "can't… can't come again…"

"I'm just helping you wash all this come outta you, baby," he explained, though he was sure you heard the mischievousness in his tone.  "There's a lot… I filled you up real good, didn't I?"

You nodded and bit your lip, and he alternated between studying your face and looking down at his fingers slowly pulling out of you as the shower washed away his come and yours.

"I don't think this is all me," he whispered against your ear.  "I think you're getting wet again, princess…"

When you nodded again, your hips bucking slightly in his hand, he went ahead and brought his two slickened fingers to your swollen bud, drawing lazy circles around it as you moaned slowly.

"What're you getting wet for, huh?  Haven't you had enough?"

"Never get enough of you," you whimpered, as if you just magically knew the exact thing to say in that moment to make his cock twitch and his heart twist.  

"I'll be real gentle, honey, gonna take you there nice an' easy…" he trailed off, adding a bit more pressure but maintaining his relaxed pace.  You whimpered and writhed against him, your smooth skin sliding against his so easily with the water washing over both of you.  

He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers when he pushed inside again, smiling when you gasped and clutched his hair suddenly.  He figured you were sore, but he also figured you would stop him if he hurt you, so he just did his best to stay slow and sensitive as he found your swollen spot inside you and curled his fingers into it.  Your whispered curses were music to his ears; technically that would make your body his instrument, and that might be cliche but it wasn’t exactly untrue.

“Want a little more?” he asked below his breath, responding to your nod by rubbing your clit with his thumb.  Your back arched, and as beautiful as it was, it also caused your body to push away from his; he held you down with his free arm to avoid spending even a moment without you against him.

“C-close,” you stuttered, and he hoped the little chuckle he let out didn’t sound too condescending; just shocked, like he intended it,

“I thought you couldn’t come again,” he remembered, fighting his smirk to kiss your neck gently.

“I thought so too,” you sighed, your hips rocking against his hand as your breathing picked up.  “Fuck, don’t stop…”

It was subtle, but he felt you shudder and shake in his grasp, a new wave of warmth soaking his fingers.  He was careful not to let the water wash your come away as he brought the soaked fingers to his lips, eagerly tasting you as you watched him with heavy eyes.  “Want a taste?” he offered, but when you went for his fingers he kissed you instead, revelling in the little hum of satisfaction you released when you tasted yourself on his tongue.

It was you that pulled him closer and deepened the kiss further, weaving your fingers into his hair and moaning a little when he grabbed your waist.

“I should’ve known showering with you wasn’t going to actually be a productive bathing experience,” you laughed when you pulled back, noticeably staring at the way water droplets trickled down his chest.  

“Fine, I’ll let you actually do your whole shower thing,” he relented, “as long as I can borrow your shampoo.”

“Sure, but you’re gonna smell fruity and delicious afterwards,” you warned.

He chuckled a little as he leaned back into the stream of hot water to wet his hair.  “Don’t I already?”

//

You’d never had such an easy time falling asleep in someone’s arms, honestly.  It was so comfortable that you were actually a bit confused when you woke up alone, already pampered by the idea of spending the morning cuddled up with him.  Thankfully, with him living here most days, he was never too far off; you heard movement downstairs and realized he was probably making breakfast for himself since he was one of those natural early risers while you had dozed until— you glanced at the clock to check— 9:53, later than usual for a night you hadn’t been drinking.

Well, Bucky had taken the empty beer bottles from your nightstand for you, but you still remembered that you’d been drinking a little.  Yet certainly most of one beer couldn’t be to blame for you making a move on him; no, that was a purely sober idea, something you’d wanted to do for quite some time, in fact.

Perhaps it was a little misguided.  Maybe it was technically an inappropriate workplace relationship since you were, in a sense, his boss.  But, of every impulsive decision you’d ever made it was definitely your personal favorite.

Hopping up and slipping on a little flowy robe just to not be naked anymore, you rushed downstairs and found Bucky in the kitchen flipping a pancake in the pan.  He glanced back at you, looking a little conflicted, before you observed the plate of assorted fruit waiting for you on the bar.

“Wow, pancakes,” you nodded.

“And fruit,” he reminded you, like you weren’t already munching on a slice of a clementine.  “So it’s healthy.”

“Is this a taste of the ‘Bucky Barnes Boyfriend Experience’?” you chuckled, picking up a grape to eat next.  “Cause so far I’m a fan.”

Bucky’s head whipped around to look back at you, and your face got warm as you realized you'd been assuming that this was a 'getting together' sort of rendezvous and not just a one-night stand.  And maybe that wasn't a fair assumption, based on the way he was blinking back at you in shock.  “Orrrr maybe this is just the ‘Me Misinterpreting Things Experience’ and you just like to use some culinary comfort to soften the blow of the ‘about last night’ talk.”

"No, no," he shook his head, sighing a bit as his expression softened.  “I guess I kind of assumed you were going to regret it."

“Regret… last night?” you finished for him, thoroughly befuddled as you watched him flip the pancake onto a plate which he handed to you.

“Uh, yeah,” he scoffed, like it was obvious, before handing you the container of maple syrup.

“Why?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “‘cause it’s you, and it’s me.  You’re a movie star and I’m the guy who drives your car.  You were having a fun night, you got… caught up in the moment, and I was just in the right place at the right time.”

You took a moment to process that as you chewed your pancake, thankfully managing to swallow the bite before you burst out laughing.  “Oh my god, is that— is that really how you thought this was gonna go down?  After everything that happened last night?”

“Yeah, these aren’t morning-after pancakes, these are please-forgive-me pancakes,” he admitted as he poured another dollop of batter into the pan.  “Can’t you taste the difference?”

"Wait, wait,” you shook your head incredulously, “you thought I was gonna regret sleeping with you, and you still went through with it?"

He laughed a bit at that.  "You were grinding on me and sucking on my fingers.  You must think I'm a saint if you think I could resist that."

“And this was supposed to be your apology… for taking advantage of me…” you tried to reason aloud, still not totally understanding how he could ever question that you would want him.

He shrugged.  "I mean, I dunno… I was prepared to get fired today so you wouldn't have to see me around.  So I guess it was sort of a goodbye, too."

"Was it worth it?  I mean… was the sex worth losing your job?" you asked.  “Hypothetically.”

"Worth losing the paycheck?  Definitely,” he announced, quiet but confident.  “But worth not seeing you again?  No, I don't think so.  When you came down here I was just thinking about how I'd rather keep you as a friend than lose you as a lover."

"That's… poetic," you mumbled.  "Luckily, you don't have to choose.  I fully intend on keeping you around.  If you don't mind."

"Why would I possibly mind that?" he laughed.

“I guess I just feel guilty because if the press finds out you’re my boyfriend, they’ll be all over you.  Your past, your family, any ex-girlfriends…”

His lack of a response made you anxious again.

“Wait, I’m sorry, this conversation is sort of confusing: are you my boyfriend?” you asked nervously.  He laughed, flipping the pancake before looking back at you with a smirk.

“If you want me to be.”

“Yeah,” you answered, perhaps a bit too eagerly, “I do.  If you’re… into that.”

“I am,” he assured.  

“Think of it like a promotion!” you offered with a grin.

“Trust me, I do,” he nodded.  “Does this position come with a raise?”

“No, but a lot more benefits,” you winked.  “And, unfortunately, a lot more baggage.”

“Right, the press.  You really think they’re gonna care?” he raised an eyebrow.

You laughed sympathetically at his innocence.  “Oh my god, you have no idea.  From now on, when we leave the house it’s strictly business— anything else and they’ll be on you like white on rice.”

“Well then we’re not gonna be leaving the house much,” he snickered, “because now that I’ve got my hands on you once, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay away.”

You smiled as he started to lean over the bar to kiss you, but when he moved in just close enough you held up a piece of fruit in front of your mouth, which he took a bite out of instead.  “Slow your roll, Romeo, I’m trying to have an important conversation and you’re trying to distract me.”

“Was it that obvious?” he frowned, sliding another golden brown pancake onto a plate for himself and turning off the stove.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that this is serious stuff.  It’s not too hard to keep it a secret for a while but… it’s just a disclaimer before you agree to anything.”

“Do you give all your potential boyfriends this talk, then?” he asked coyly.

“Well, since I got big I’ve really only dated one guy and he was even more famous than me so... no,” you answered awkwardly.

“Oh, right,” he nodded, getting a little more serious.  “What was it you said they were going to investigate, again?  My past, my family, my ex-girlfriends,” he remembered.

“Yup,” you nodded.  “And any, you know, criminal convictions or whatever.”

“Well, none of those, not much family, barely any ex-girlfriends,” he enumerated, “but a lot of past.”

You solemnly contemplated eating another grape, hoping you had managed to maintain some nonchalance.  “How bad are we talking?”

“Not bad, necessarily,” he mitigated, stopping mid-sentence to grab the pancake with his hand and eat it straight, “but, you know… military.  So not exactly good.”

“Didn’t blow up any orphanages, right?”

“No, not quite,” he laughed, “but I wasn’t a conscientious objector, either.”

“Okay, just keep in mind they’re going to scrutinize everything you ever were before you were my boyfriend,” you informed him.

“‘Your boyfriend’ is the most important thing I’ve ever been.”

The comment took you aback— mostly in a good way, but you weren’t prepared for him to get sentimental like that.  You especially weren’t prepared for the effect it would have on you.  So you, being you, deflected it with a sudden topic change and a raunchy joke.

“Jeez, are you a sadist or something?  ‘Cause I can’t hardly sit in this chair properly, I’m so sore,” you winced.  

“That,” he announced with a grin, pointing at you with the half-eaten pancake in his hand for emphasis, “is the ‘Bucky Barnes Boyfriend Experience.’”

[hamsterboos]

Met Him Last Night

I literally speed wrote this in an hour so I'm sorry if this is a mess lmaooo but hopefully this will be continued, we'll see :D If anyone wants to be tagged in upcoming updates to this, please let me know! Just be warned, this first chapter does have (not very specific) details of a panic attack!

Title is from Demi Lovato's Met Him Last Night

Word Count: 2181 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 17 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Bodyguard AU

~~~~~

Aelin was just about ready to murder someone, and that someone would most definitely be her cousin.

“Aelin, I’m serious, you need protection.”

She growled as she slammed her palms down on the dining table, loudly, as she stood up. “And I’m serious when I say that I need sleep. This stupid bodyguard business can wait two days for me to hibernate.”

Aedion also stood up, mirroring her stance as he leaned in closer to her. “Your life is in literal danger, Aelin. I hope you understand what that means.”

“It was one instance!” she insisted, pushing herself away from the table and moving to the kitchen to put her empty dinner plate into the sink. She was so exhausted from all the travel she’d done in the last few days that all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep — dishes be damned.

“One instance of the guy mailing you pictures of you from the hotel and on the sidewalk,” he responded, moving beside her. He was following her on purpose to make sure she couldn’t escape him, and Aelin was pissed off that he knew her so well to do that. “He’s been sending you those weird as hell letters for years.”

“It’s not exactly a trade secret which hotels I stay in when I’m going on book tours, Aedion. You know that.”

“If you stopped posting Instagram pictures with the hotel in the background, then it would be more of a secret considering that you are a public figure now. Besides, it’s only going to get worse now that Crescent City season 1 press shoots start soon. Your face will be more famous than just in the book world, Aelin. People will see articles of the author behind the next biggest fantasy show on television. Things are already bad, and we shouldn’t let it get past that.”

“Okay, fine, but why can’t we talk about this later? My body clock thinks it’s the middle of the freaking night, and I haven’t slept in fifteen hours. Please get out of my face so I can sleep.”

“Aelin, if you don’t take this seriously, I’m going to do it for you.”

“Oh dear cousin, owner of a security company, please do. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with it, especially now that I’m going to be much busier.”

“You’re so annoying,” he grumbled as he stalked towards the door.

“Love you too!” she called after him, finally, finally, heading towards her bedroom. Fleetfoot trotted after her happily, and Aelin snorted as her dog’s wet snout kept bumping into her bare calves. The dog was way too excited to see her after two long months away from home with Aelin travelling all over the world for the release of her latest book. It wasn’t like she could deny the fact that she had missed her dear, sweet dog so much as well, so when Aelin flopped down onto her soft bed for the first time in months, she let Fleetfoot join her.

Fleetfoot circled the same spot three times before curling up against Aelin, her tail slowly thumping against the mattress as Aelin got comfortable as well. The feeling of warmth from her dog and the happiness from being in her own bed after so long had Aelin falling asleep faster than she normally did, and she was just about entirely asleep when she barely heard the click of her front door opening.

Figuring it was Aedion, she just tried to drown out the sound, not having the willpower nor the strength to move. He could let himself out after taking whatever he had probably forgotten at her place, and Aelin would be happily dozing for the next several hours.

Until a crash broke the haze Aelin was in, and her eyes shot open. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked at Fleetfoot who was staring at the closed door with alarm as well.

Aelin was confused. Aedion was careful to not drop ceramic or glass objects within the house, knowing how much her mother would always be on the two of them growing up to be careful with such things, and it didn’t help that she was still half asleep. Nothing made sense to her.

Slowly getting out of bed, she winced as she stood up entirely, her feet aching after days of standing in heels. Aelin walked over to the bedroom door and creaked it open, and she scanned the immediate vicinity for Aedion, trying to see if he was anywhere near the living room or corridor. When she didn’t see him, she creeped out of her room, trying to be quiet but the sluggishness had already taken over body as she stumbled into the wall a few times. Fleetfoot was at her tail, but Aelin forced her to stay before turning the corner into the living room. If there was glass on the ground, she didn’t want it getting in her dog’s paws.

Once Aelin turned the corner, she immediately stopped, finding the scene in front of her unwelcome and incredibly jarring.

There was a man standing in her room, one that didn’t have the same blond hair she did, and the broken object was a picture frame, the shards of glass littered about on the ground as he gripped a photo of her and Fleetfoot.

Aelin swallowed slowly, the saliva getting stuck in her throat as her mouth went dry, as she realized that a man had broken into her home.

As quietly as she could, she placed a hand over her mouth, trying not to breathe too loudly as she quickly made her way back into her bedroom, herding Fleetfoot with her, and she locked the door to the bedroom. Wildly glancing around, she took the chair from her vanity and jammed it under the door knob so the door wouldn’t open.

“What do I do,” she whispered, scared of her mind as she sat down on her bed. She was shaking, that much was sure as Fleetfoot tried to lick her hands and face in an attempt to calm her down. How was Aelin supposed to calm down when there was someone in her house?

Realizing that Aedion must’ve not gotten far, she lunged for her phone on the bed and dialed Aedion’s number.

“Weren’t you supposed to be asleep?” was his greeting, but all she could get out at first was a shuddering gasp.

“Aedion,” she whispered.

“Aelin? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice immediately alert.

“There’s someone in my apartment.”

“What?!”

“Hurry, please,” she cried, trying to muffle her voice to make it seem that she wasn’t at home. She didn’t know if the man had known that she was in the apartment, but she didn’t want him to find out.

“Aelin, listen to me, you’ll be fine. I’m almost there. Are you still in your room?”

“I, uh, I’m in my bedroom with Fleetfoot. I went out when there was a crash, and then ran back to my room,” she managed to get out. “I locked the door and jammed a chair underneath.”

“Go into the bathroom and lock that door too,” he urged, and she got up to move to the bathroom. “If he manages to get your room door unlocked, then at least you have some more time. I’m almost there, but you need to call 911, too.”

“Aedion, I can’t—” Aelin gasped out, leaning against the bathroom counter after locking the door behind her and her dog. Her breaths were coming in faster, and there wasn’t anything she could do to control the way her eyesight was beginning to blur. “I can’t let him know I’m in here.”

“He won’t find out,” he urged.

“But Aedion,” she cried, “the plates in the sink. He’ll see them, and he’ll know I was home. He’ll know I’m here.” The pounding in her chest had gotten louder than what Aedion was saying, and all she could do was sob into her hands. She wasn’t safe anymore outside, but now she wasn’t safe in her own room.

“Aelin! Aelin, it’s okay, I’m here.”

The next thing Aelin heard were shouts and yells before it got all quiet. She clambered up to her feet, throwing the door to the bathroom open before trying to get the chair back out, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck, and her limbs weren’t cooperating. There wasn’t anything she could do, and she tugged at the chair with a cry.

“Come on,” she cried, tugging at it more before it finally came free, clattering to the ground. Unlocking the door, she took a few unsteady steps before Aedion came into view, the man lying on the ground unconscious. Aelin lost all control of her body, and she fell into Aedion’s arm as he ran for her, and that was the last thing she saw before blackness encompassed her.

~~~

When Aelin awoke several hours later, it was to the commotion coming from downstairs. At first, she blinked a few times, trying to readjust to where she was because it wasn’t the drab hotel room view she’d gotten accustomed to, and once her brain was awake enough to process that she was in Aedion and Lysandra’s spare bedroom, she got out of bed and padded over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair. If she was going to show her face after a major panic attack that caused her to faint for a few minutes, she should at least look decent.

Fleetfoot was, thankfully, also with her in the room, and Aelin sat on the ground for a few minutes just to hug her dog before getting up and going to the living room.

As soon as she made her entrance, everyone went silent, the only sound was Fleetfoot’s paws as she went straight for Lysandra to nose at her for treats.

“Okay,” Aelin swallowed. “I get it. I need a bodyguard, but at least that guy was arrested,” she continued, hopefully. Aedion beckoned her to sit next to him, and it was then that she realized that besides her cousin and his wife, Elide was also there and a man that she’d never met before. He was striking, to say the least. Silver hair with a sharp jawline and beautifully green eyes. His short-sleeved shirt also showed off swirls of tattoo creeping up his bicep, and Aelin had to say that she was intrigued by who this man was.

“Look,” her cousin started, directing her attention back to him. His face showed concern, and she was suddenly worried that this entire ordeal might not be over. “That man wasn’t the same one who stalked you. He was just a burglar trying to score after noticing that no one had been going in or out of the apartment for a while. It just helped that the security guard downstairs is of no use, so he broke in.”

Aelin was having a hard time processing all this information being thrown at her. “So you’re telling me that it was just...unlucky?”

“I have been telling you to move,” he unhelpfully added, and she let him know exactly that.

“Anyway, we’ve come up with a solution,” Elide butt in. “Aelin, meet Rowan Whitethorn. He works in Aedion’s company. He was working for a different client for a few years, but they switched companies, so he’s now free to protect you.”

“Hey,” she greeted without any of her previous enthusiasm.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Galanthynius,” Rowan responded, and she noticed the slight accent to his words.

“Doranelle?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I will be protecting you from now on, uh, in a close manner.”

Aelin slightly jerked in her spot at his shy demeanor over his words, and the way he said it caught her attention.

“What do you mean?” No one answered her at first, peaking her anxiety again. “Aedion?” she asked, looking to him for an explanation.

“Since it’s also not safe for you to be at home alone, we’re going to have Rowan pretend to be your boyfriend.”

~~~

Aelin stepped out of the car, hand placed in Rowan’s as he led her into the paparazzi filled lot that led to the building where the final press shoots and poster shoots would be taking place for her show. It was still absolutely insane that someone she had written was actually going to be a TV show for the whole world to see, but another absolutely insane thing was the fact that she was pressed up against Rowan’s hard body, trying to pretend to be absolutely in love with him.

“Who is this man?” she heard one of the journalists ask, and she wanted to say that she didn’t exactly know either considering she had just met him last night, but this was the perfect opportunity for the world to know that she had a boyfriend.

Technically.

Smiling, she pulled Rowan to a stop as she turned to the vague direction from where she heard the voice. “This is my boyfriend.”

[littlegodzilla]

12 Apostles JudasxFemReader +18 FINAL.

Okay, so here I come! This is the last part of that serie, I have to say thank you so much for all the reading and love and comments that you gave to me, it meant too much for me. I was a little scared to post something so long, but it worth it.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it.

This part it pretty long because I fixed all in one last chapter so... I hope it will not become too boring.

Summary: You are part of a club called the 12 Apostles, you are the daughter of the Leader and Judas is the right hand of your brother, the next leader. Warning: M, Smut (Yes, finally, sorry!), +18.

N/A; I said it’s Lady Gaga’s fault but it’s also Son Of Anarchy’s fault…

N/A: Sorry for my English, it isn't my fisrt language.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

taglist: @browneyes528 @phoenixblack89 @purple-serenity @pncnsc

(If you want to be on the list, just let me know!)

You look at them crossing your arms, Jax is quite a bit taller than Judas, but Judas doesn't seem to care about those extra inches, he lifted his head, squared his shoulders trying to make himself bigger that way and bites his lower lip while still frowning. Jax doesn't remove the twisted smile from his mouth and it is evident that he wants to fight with the brunet. Jesus stands up as well, banging his head on the table to get his attention. Your father and Clay also get up, not understanding what this is all about.

"I think that for today the meeting is over." Jesus speaks before your Father intervenes and bangs the gavel on the table. Reluctantly Clay manages to get Jax out of there and slowly the 12 Apostles leave as well.

"Leave me with them, Father." He asks the man. "I need you to calm the atmosphere down there." He doesn't look too pleased, but finally he leaves and Jesus closes the door to the meeting room. It's just the three of you; Jesus, Judas and you. You look at both men and it's obvious which Judas has deflated, whatever he was willing to do to Jax for opening his mouth was gone and now he had his eyes fixed on the floor.

"I'm sorry." He says to your brother. "I didn't mean to...I know I shouldn't have...”

“It's okay, brother, this was bound to happen sooner or later..." Jesus shakes his head and lets Judas rest his forehead on his shoulder. You are fed up with the whole situation, you need explanations. You get up from your chair drawing the attention of both men.

"What's going on here? I have anything to say? are you going to raffle me off like I'm a fucking prize?"

"Sis, calm down, it's something we wanted to tell you in due time." Jesus starts, but you don't want to hear it.

"I'm not a fucking object! I don't know what the fuck this all means but I don't belong to anyone!"

"Not yet." Jesus agrees and then looks at Judas who stands silently a few steps behind him observing the whole situation. "Listen, ten years ago, The Father found out about your relationship with Norman." You both shudder as your brother uses his real name. "Our father was angry, our mother almost had a stroke, he sent us on a mission and forced me to punish him..." He mutters and you see the two men lower their heads. "I had to because our father was there watching, but when he left I promised him you would be his, I gave him my blessing so you two could be together later..."

"That's bullshit, I was of age, I could have chosen whoever I felt like, you didn't have to plan anything behind my back." You are angry and you feel your eyes stinging.

"Your Father would never have left us." That's when Judas speaks up. "I may have the title of Vice President but your parents would never have left the club in my hands, even if you were with me... They never forgave what my father did to them, he pretended in front of everyone that he accepted me, but he never trusted me so I had to walk away and he would think it was all over."

"Was Mingus part of the plan too?" you say angrily and wipe away a sneaky tear.

"That doesn't..."

"That doesn't matter now. Our father forced him to bring that woman with him, and the things that have happened can no longer be fixed, but we are trying to have a different future." He explains and you raise your head like a spring, a different future? It's ironic since it's the same thing Judas had told you a few days ago in your apartment about Mingus, about his gallery, did that future also involve the club? Maybe Judas and Norman Reedus weren't as different as you first thought. Still all that doesn't make sense, you can't be Judas' girl, you never accepted that, they can't keep you there as a reserve for when he wants to claim you, things don't work like that. At least you're not going to let them be like that with you. Norman had his chance, you really don't believe what Jesus has said about your father, your father accepted Judas into the club many years ago, it didn't make sense.

"We are trying to change the direction of the club from within." Judas' voice brings you out of your thoughts. "We're fed up with the gun running, the problems with the police, the gangs, we want to make the club legal..." Okay, you have to admit that you weren't expecting that at all.

"We've never said anything to you because you've never been involved in the action, the club's accounts would be reduced but it wouldn't change too much for you... but it's something we have to do when our father is gone." Jesus insists and you stammer not knowing what to say. "I brought Jax and his men because they want the same thing they’re trying to take Clay's position away from him, if we join forces it will be much easier, but it's something we have to do little by little..."

"How many people know?"

"Andy and John... they are the only ones I fully trust." Jesus is sincere and Judas nods you look at them and run your hands over your face trying to process all that. "What I didn't expect is that Jax would want to claim you." At that moment it's your turn to avert your gaze and lower your head in embarrassment. You don't quite remember what happened the night before. You're sure that you and Jax didn't have a moment, it's also true that waking up alone in your bed doesn't mean anything, but you're convinced that if that man had spent the night with you. You would remember. "But I'll talk to him, I'm sure you aren’t a priority for the covenant otherwise... we'll look for someone else." Your brother declares and then sighs. He gently taps his right hand on your shoulder and exits the meeting room leaving you alone.

You don't quite know what to say, you feel the anger has subsided a bit and you feel bad about it, you shouldn't just accept what happened, you feel used and for some strange reason, you feel relief to know what is happening. Somehow it all makes sense; why Judas stopped talking to you, why they disappeared for so long, why the men at the club have never tried to approach you like that, why Judas showed up with that woman as if she was his but they never really hit it off. Everything seemed to fit together like a puzzle and yet you're still overthinking your head. You tense up when you notice that Judas is moving, he has taken out his phone and seems to be looking for something. He approaches you and shows you a photograph. You recognize it, you've seen it in Judas' gallery when you went the other time with Ana, it's blurred, you can't really see what it is, but you don't understand why he's showing it to you either. You look at him and he changes the image, you look down and cover your mouth with both hands to discover that it is the same picture, but now you see clearly what it is; it is Judas, his face is destroyed from a severe beating, broken nose, eyes completely black, split lip and hair mixed in blood and dirt. You look at him and he pulls the phone away from you a little.

"You can think what you want, that's your complete right, but I don't want you to think Jesus is a liar or a traitor to your father. Because he isn't. He did this to me on your father's orders, I'm not blaming him either, he did what he had to do. But he's telling you the truth, we're... he's trying to fix the club, so that no one else gets hurt." You stay quiet, looking at him, his pupils are dilated, there is passion and anger in them, he is not lying to you, they are really plotting something so that the club becomes something legal, something new and good. You don't say anything, you see him go to the door and leave, you need one more moment alone to think.

You take out your cell phone and text Ana asking her if she is alone, she responds positively and asks you if something is wrong, you don't answer, you just pick up your stuff and leave the club. She is your best friend, you need to talk to her, tell her everything that has happened in such a short time, besides John is aware of everything, it's not like you are betraying your brother or something like that.

It takes you twenty minutes to walk from the club to your friend's house, actually you have been almost running, while you were leaving you had heard Andy calling you to take you with his motorcycle, but you had ignored him completely. What you really need is to clear your mind, stop thinking about everything, stop crying like you are doing and control yourself a little, get your mind in order. You arrive at your friend's apartment and knock on the door. Ana takes a few minutes to open the door and when she sees you she lets you hug her, hiding your face on her shoulder, as if you were a little girl who has done something very bad. You go into the apartment and sit on the sofa. Ana doesn't say anything, waiting for you to recover a little and giving you time to talk without feeling pressured. You tell her everything.

You tell her about Judas, about Norman, you tell her about everything you went through together, you tell her about when he disappeared, when he came back with that woman, you tell her about how it was taking care of Mingus, you tell her about the club and the new intentions Jesus has to remodel it from the inside, about how Judas is even with him, they both want to change the club and that's why they need help. You tell him about the beating Jesus gave Judas for being with you at your father's command and that's why he walked away. You tell him about the covenant, the "blessing" Jesus gave Judas to be with you when everything calmed down. You tell him that you are confused, hurt and angry. Your feelings for Judas are still too present and too strong and you hate yourself for it because you should be angry with your brother and with him. But you can't. Ana listens to you without saying anything, she just lets you vent and cry as much as you need to. When you're done you're a snotty mess with red, puffy eyes. Ana hugs you warmly and strokes your hair.

"You want my opinion? I think you should send it all to hell. If it's true that Judas still wants to be with you, why not have fun? I think I told you that before and I'll tell you again. Have fun, he's been having fun out there no matter how much he says he loves you..."

"Well it's not like I've been in a convent either..."

"No, but I'm sure he turns you on quite a bit more." She smiles wiggling her eyebrows, you laugh and run your hands over your face and nod.

"I guess you're right... sorry for just popping in like that it's just... I needed to talk to someone."

"Hey don't apologize to me. We've been friends for many years, if you didn't tell me these things I'd be offended."

You look at her again gratefully and consider what she has told you. It could be good, remembering those moments with Judas, with Norman, when you were together. However you're not entirely sure if you could handle it. You need to think it through. The rest of the day you spend together, you watch a movie, you talk about nothing in particular, Ana tells you how things are going with John, something that makes you happy and you enjoy the fact that they are doing well. Afterwards you go out and have some fun, girls' night out and your mind wanders a bit and everything seems to weigh a little less. The rest of the night you forget about everything.

A few days pass after the meeting that the club had with Sons of Anarchy, At first it's awkward for you to run into Jax around the club, but the blond seems fun. On one of those afternoons when you're in your office, Jax walks into your office surprising you, there's a soft, mischievous smile on his face as he nods at you.

"May I?"

"Yeah, sure, come on in." You smile setting the ledgers aside. The blond closes the door behind himself and advances to your desk. "Is something wrong?"

"I wanted to apologize, Jesus told me what's going on between you and Judas." You look at him in surprise and lower your head feeling your cheeks redden a little.

"You don't have to apologize, there's nothing going on between him and me.... Not anymore, it happened a long time ago and now things are .... complicated." You sigh heavily because this topic is starting to wear on you. "But I do want to ask you something, did something happen between us the other night, why did you want me to be part of the deal?" You look at him confused and he smiles in amusement with a shrug.

"I thought it would sound more interesting if I wanted to have you in my gang, which your father wouldn't hesitate to agree to on those terms, Clay was looking forward to it too, but I didn't expect your guard dog to interfere."

"I'm sorry... And he's not my guard dog..." You try to justify Judas and see the blond's smirk, you roll your eyes and shake your head. "Whatever... And what about the other thing?"

"No, nothing happened, not out of desire I have to say, you have an impressive alcohol resistance, but you fell asleep at the bar like a baby and that guy.... Andy, took you to the room and politely told me to stay still or he'd blow my balls off."

"Yeah... Sounds like Andy, but more British." You joke and he laughs with you nodding his head. "Sorry..." You apologize anyway and he shrugs.

"There's nothing to forgive, I doubt the night would have ended like that, it sounds to me like that guy, he's more in your head than you want to admit."

You lower your gaze at that and feel your cheeks burn as your pulse quickens, he doesn't know you two at all and yet he knew how to read you perfectly. You feel him move again to get closer to you, but then the door opens, Jesus and his companions appear through the door and suddenly the atmosphere becomes rarefied. Mentally you hope that no one misunderstands the situation.

"You've come up early for the meeting" John comments with a menacing tone in his voice.

"I had some things to work out with your Sister." He says with a shrug and leans over giving you a kiss on the cheek, you redden and out of the corner of your eye you see Judas frown hard. Great.

The meeting is only with some members of the gang, they have tricked the old bosses to show him the district and how they work there to try to convince them in the union of both gangs. What they agree to is irrelevant, what really matters to Jesus is that Jax agrees to their terms and conditions, that his people support the move and prevail over the old blood.They still have a lot of things to work out to help them with their gang problems. Jax seems to be trying to do the same thing with his gang as Jesus did in the 12 Apostles, but Clay isn't making it easy for him either; the old blood relies on the old ways, on what kept them all safe, risking his people trying to legalize everything seems like a joke, which should be a good thing for everyone, apparently it's fucking crazy.

You haven't had a moment to talk with Judas again, he's busy with the club and his gallery, Mingus tells you he's getting to the apartment pretty late, exhausted, but he seems happy, surely the pictures are selling well and that future he so longs for his son is closer. You too have been avoiding him locked up in the office, at work or at home, there was always some excuse not to be too close to the club when all your brother's men were there.

However Ana's words keep echoing in your head "have fun" she had told you that day when you arrived full of snot and your eyes swollen from crying so much, like a damn baby. Your feelings towards Judas, towards Norman, have not changed, you know it is something difficult to happen, you have even been in love with him all your life, but the pain of deceit and lies is still too present in you, they do not let you take the step you would like, or at least try.

You sigh because you don't really know how you got here. The night before you had a shift at the hospital, you slept all day today and you were like a damn owl on the couch at home not knowing what to do. You've changed shifts with Ana so you couldn't meet up with her to go to the club to drink and play some pool. You were face down on the couch, staring at nothing when you decided to take a shower, put on something nice and go for a walk. What you didn't expect was that your feet, shod in nice, comfortable black booties, would carry you to the door of Norman's gallery. You tremble shifting your weight from one foot to the other undecided, you don't know if he might be there, you don't know if you are able to face him or you will just turn around and go home. You swallow saliva releasing your hair, arranging it on your shoulders and you enter, maybe you are not as elegant as the last time you were there, but the young woman who is at the door controlling the entrance and exit doesn't seem to care, she smiles at you and you get lost among the pictures. Many have been sold, which makes you happy, being replaced by more extravagant ones, by casual moments and some new ones of Norman with Mingus, where you never see anyone's face, but you recognize them. You're curious if there are any new photos of you, but you find nothing. It's a little disappointing, your smile weakens a little, when you feel your shoulder being tapped. Your whole body tenses up believing that Judas has discovered you and you have no good excuse to explain how you got there. However when you turn around you sigh in relief to discover that it is the same young woman who was at the entrance. You look at her in confusion and she seems a little nervous.

"Mr. Reedus didn't warn us that you would be here by before the opening." She says and you frown.

"He didn’t know I was coming...what opening?"

"He's opened another room in the gallery, it's a new exhibition." She seems hesitant, as if she's telling you something you weren't supposed to know, at least not at the moment. You start to get pissed off at all the secrets Judas is having with you, as if you have no say in it.

"Can I see it? I won't say anything to Ju... to Norman." You tell her rectifying his name at the last moment. "I'd love to see what he's doing, he said something about some new pictures, but he never tells me anything." You feign an innocent pout and the young woman seems to take pity on you.

The two of you walk to one of the rooms in the gallery that you hadn't seen before, it's all dark but you see a huge sign that says "The Judas’ secret, new opening " which makes your confusion and curiosity increase. The girl at the entrance turns on the light so that the room is illuminated and leaves you there to return to her work. You hesitate for a moment, reading once again the sign at the entrance " The Judas’ secret ", take a deep breath and enter the room. You are petrified when you discover what the theme is about. They are pictures of you. All of them. You should feel strange, you should feel uncomfortable and even be angry with him for exposing you like this without your permission, but you can't. They're not just pictures of you. They are not only photos of you alone, but moments, memories, moments with him, as always your faces are hidden by something, a hand, hair, blurred when Judas edited them, but you recognized the places, that precise moment came back to your memory. There are many of your relationship, when you escaped from the club, when you got lost, when you hid in his apartment and the nights turned into day and you kept enjoying each other. It isn’t a finished room, as the girl told you, there are things missing, you see the holes, you see the plaques but not the images. You walk around the room stopping at some images that are more recent. You are alone, distracted, observing the nothingness, smiling, talking with the boys, enjoying the company, you are with Mingus, taking care of the child, playing with him, enjoying his presence. Judas has never stopped looking for you, never stopped having an eye on you. It's something that these photos show you and you feel it tighten in your chest. You stop in front of one in particular. You are asleep on your desk, with the club's account books on the table and serving you as a pillow, your face is relaxed, you are in a deep sleep and on your back, covering you like a blanket, you are wearing the club's Judas vest, but that's not what catches your attention, behind you, blurred because the target of the photo was really you, is him, sitting on the couch in the office, quiet, with his elbows on his knees, one hand on his chin and his eyes on you, watching over you, protecting you without you being aware of it.

Another photo catches your attention much more strongly than the previous one, located next to the one you just saw. Your body shudders and memories flood you for an instant. The image projects your hands, you are holding hands, your fingers intertwined and on your ring finger rests a plastic ring. It's stupid, but for you it meant a promise.

You remember that day, Judas had returned from a mission after two weeks out of town. You arrived at his apartment that night, sneaking out of your parents' house like you used to do. When you entered the house and greeted Eye you went straight to meet Norman who was already waiting for you with dinner ready. It was an intense night, it had been a long two weeks for you and seeing the man again had ignited a flame inside you wanting to devour him completely. Lying on the couch, you were caressing Jude's chest with affection when the man looked at you holding your hand in his.

"Marry me." He asked sliding the plastic ring from one of the bottles down your finger. Your chest squeezed at that moment and you hugged him crying on his shoulder.

"Yes..."

After that pretending you had no feelings for him when you were with the rest of the band was hard, you just wished you were coming of age so you could be with Judas in a formal way at last, but that never happened. A few months later the man came back from his longest mission with the gang and with that woman under his arm. Your heart broke into a thousand pieces as Judas stopped addressing you, there was always someone in the way, he never had a moment alone for you to explain what had happened. Little by little you began to build a wall over your heart so that the pain would disappear and when The Father gave the news that she was pregnant, the walls became stronger.

But now...

You leave the gallery with a thousand thoughts in your mind, you feel agitated, confused and too eager to scream. Your life was so much easier before, how had it suddenly become so complicated? You walk with your hands under your armpits feeling the cold of the night, you should go home and stop thinking about everything, however your feet have taken a different direction, but first you will buy some dinner.

Judas is concentrating on his computer, he’s a little late with the new exhibition he has planned, he doesn't have too much material, there are many of them that he wants to keep just for himself, so choosing is being a real odyssey. He rubs his chin with some despair and sighs as his brain collapses once again. It's too late. Another day will follow. He turns off the computer running his hands over his face and hair leaning back in his chair. He hears Mingus laughing in the living room of the huge apartment and smiles, maybe enjoy a little of the small clear his mind and, for another day, make his work easier. He leaves his small office turning off the light and closing the door, it is one of the only places in the house that Mingus and Eye in the Dark are totally forbidden to enter. He heads into the living room to discover his little boy playing with the cat that has hidden under the side table and attacks his feet every time he walks past. Eye is gentle with the boy, not using his claws to catch him, stretching out his paws and swiping at his feet when he detects them, but not intending to hurt him. Mingus throws himself on the carpet and scares the little black cat who runs off into the rooms, Mingus goes after him without thinking. Judas opens his mouth to tell the little guy to calm down a bit when there is a knock at the door.

He frowns slightly and looks at the clock, it's too late to expect any visitors. He stands in the middle of the hallway and checks his phone. He doesn't have any messages or calls from his brothers at the club, so it must not be them. He walks slowly when he hears another call, next to the door he has a small cabinet where he leaves his keys, he slowly opens the drawer trying not to make noise and takes out a gun, places the barrel against the door and looks through the peephole. He is petrified to discover who is on the other side. He quickly puts the gun back in the drawer and yanks open the door.

"What…?" The surprise is more than evident in his voice. You stand there, head bowed holding a paper bag with a few tokens of takeout. His brow furrows because he doesn't understand anything.

"Hello..." You mutter daring to raise your head at last to face him. You're dead embarrassed, you've been debating for half an hour whether to go up or not, you've called the elevator two or three times and fled the first two when the doors opened before you. Yet now you're there and you don't even know what to say. "Are you hungry? I brought some dinner..." It's a start though you know Judas isn't expecting that answer, though he hasn't asked you the question either. You see him bite his thumbnail for a second before letting go of the door and stepping aside.

"Sure, come in."

"Is Mingus in?"

"Sure, where do you want him to be?" you know he doesn't mean to sound annoyed with you, it's just something so obvious that father and son should be together that he seems to be hurt by your hesitation.

"No, sorry, you're right." You shake your head. "I had a late shift last night and my brain cells haven't yet..." You try to justify yourself.

"Is that why you're here?" Curiosity is now evident in him. You grab your bags and make your way to the kitchen, you know that damn place like it was your own home. Maybe one day it was. You look around, not much has changed, if you discover any renovations in the living room, it's a little smaller, it looks like he's expanded the terrace, probably so he can play with Mingus there on nice days in New York, he still has plenty and plenty of room.

You both enter the kitchen. Judas looks curiously at the bags of food and takes out the Chinese food you ordered, checking the tupperware. He smiles. He seems satisfied with the choice you made when ordering. It's not like it's the first time you've done it, to tell you the truth, this way you had an advantage. You don't quite know what to say, you know that Judas has left a question up in the air, that he hasn't insisted on it, but he's waiting for you to answer. You twitch nervously, ready to open your mouth, when your body lurches forward with a small tackle. You gasp in surprise, eyes wide, look down and see Mingus clutching at your legs like a burning nail.

"Auntie!" he shouts with joy and you feel him squeeze you a little tighter. You smile and stroke his blond hair. In the position he's holding you you can't turn around and hug him back, you have to wait for him to pull away. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Judas on the other side of the counter, leaning with his hands on the edge of the counter, tensing his arms, squaring his broad shoulders, he looks at you with a soft smile that rubs off on you. "You came!" he releases you at last, and you are able to bend down and hug him. "Dad said you'd come to see us when you’ll be less busy." He smiles broadly and your heart skips a beat.

"Hey champ, sorry I took so long, I've been a little... busy, yeah." You don't know how to justify yourself to him, in theory fooling the little guy should be easier, but when you look at him you are unable to. "But I'm here now, and I've brought dinner."

"Actually, Mingus has already had dinner." You hear Judas' voice on the other end and slowly you sit up to look at him. His little smile is now twisted and mocking. "You always over ask, never learn." He tells you and you know he's joking. It has always happened to you, it's true. Whenever you ordered takeout you would always repeat the leftovers the next day, at first it was a little frustrating, then you started to see it as a huge advantage.

"Whatever's left over for tomorrow." You say without being too aware of what that means, however Judas is, and his pupils dilate for a moment.

"Sure..." His voice sounds deeper, like a growl, but you don't pick up on it. Mingus has captured much of your attention. He talks non-stop, telling you about everything you've missed those days you've been "busy " he tells you about school, his homework, the trips to the club, his evenings at Andy's house playing with his kids, he tells you that his father has also been very busy those days and finally he tells you about his little adventures with Eye. You laugh about it all and feel a little sorry for the cat. Eye has always been a bit wild, he doesn't tolerate human petting too much, he has always preferred Judas to you and now he even seems to be more protective of the little guy. "Come on, Mingus." Again Judas' voice brings you out of your thoughts. "It's time to go to bed."

"What, but auntie just got here!" He pouts enormously. "And I'm not sleepy!"

"Of course you are." The man smiles as he watches him rub his eyes trying to stay awake. "Eye is already waiting for you in bed and you know it, plus you have school tomorrow."

"But..." He turns to you, looking for support and you look at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, kiddo, but your father is right. I promise you that another day I will come earlier and we can play as much as you want." You tell him and he seems quite happy with this, Mingus yawns loudly and Judas comes to his rescue by taking him in his arms, the little boy leans against his chest, all the energy he had playing with Eye is gone in a flash. Judas looks at you and he walks down the corridor with the child in his arms. You hesitate for a second and follow him down the hallway a few steps behind. Judas enters the little boy's room, decorated to perfection, with various toys scattered everywhere and a bed decorated with superhero sheets. You stand in the doorway of the room watching as Judas lays the little boy on the bed, tucks him in and kisses his forehead lovingly. Mingus is a bit of a nag and looks up at you. It's obvious he expects you to say goodnight too. You smile and approach the boy as his father steps aside. You kiss him on the cheek and wish him good night. The two of you leave the room as the little boy falls asleep.

You two return to the kitchen. You don't open your mouths, there is a strange atmosphere, to be honest you didn't expect to be alone with him so soon, you would have liked to enjoy Mingus a little longer but you were too late. You help Judas place the dinner things on the side table next to the sofa. You unfold it and sit down on the comfortable sofa. Your back seems to remember its comfort because suddenly your body relaxes and your mind regales you with various memories of everything that couch has been through and seen. Judas' gasps and moans dull your ears and your body shudders as you let the memories wash over you. Judas next to you passes you one of the tuppers of Chinese food and with trembling hands you pick it up putting some on your plate. He eats, for a few minutes, in silence, but he is a nervous and overly curious person and for you to be there, without saying anything, as if it were part of the daily plan. Like a routine. He drops his silverware and turns to look at you as he rubs his chin with his hand and then rests it there, still looking at you.

"Are you going to tell me at some point what's going on?" he finally speaks and you stop eating too.

"At some point..." You agree without daring to look at him.

"Today? Or will you wait for any other opportunity to run away?" there's irony in his voice, you can see he's not well either, after the conversation in the office and him revealing to you that you belonged to him things had become tense at the club and you avoiding him doesn't help either.

"Don't talk to me like that..." You sigh setting your silverware down on your plate and shake your head. "I don't know what I'm doing here..." You say at last. His gaze is locked on you, much more intense than before and it makes you nervous. "I've been thinking about you since that day in the office... how I should feel..."

"Have you figured it out?" he asks patiently, turns his body slightly towards you, resting an elbow on the back of the couch.

"No, but..." You sigh and dare to look at him. "I guess that's why I'm here, I... I was at home not knowing what to do, I went outside and started walking... I got to the gallery." You look at him again and see him tense his jaw slightly, biting his lip nervously. "I saw the exhibition... the new one" You whisper quietly, you appreciate how his body tenses, but he still doesn't change his gesture. You can see his pupils dilate and the blue color of his eyes take on an electric hue. Dangerous.

"Have you seen it?" he asks, his voice low, with a growl.

"Yes... I didn't know... I didn't think..."

"What? Say it, you didn't believe, what, that I was serious?" He sounds angry, growls like a wounded animal, but his gesture remains calm, controlling. "I've always been there, for you, I've always watched over you. I'm not going to justify what I did, because I can't, because I was stupid, but within that; I never stopped caring about you. I couldn't be with you, I couldn't make a false step. Anything that would cause your father to find out I was seeing you again would mean the end. He would have done anything to keep you away. He would have taken you away, as far away from me as possible, he would have killed me and if he didn't succeed, I would have gone crazy trying to find out where he had hidden you."

"You could have told me..."

"Don't you listen to me? I couldn't risk you, I couldn't just walk up and talk to you, it wasn't that simple. I have let my guard down now that Jesus is reasserting his power in the club. Your Father is old and growing weaker every day. I have no love for him and I truly hope he dies suffering, but when that happens, I can claim you." He said releasing air forcefully through his nose, like a bull.

"I'm not an object you can reserve in a store, you know, I'm a person, I have my own thoughts, I make my own decisions, I have an opinion about this... You can't expect me to wait until..." You fall silent and lower your head in pain, scared to death, but mostly ashamed.

"You can't wait for what?" He calls out to you, suddenly his voice sounds terribly close, his warm breath vibrates against your head. "Look at me." It's a command dragged out in a thick gasp. Slowly you lift your head to look at him, his breath is ragged, it runs all over your face and your noses collide. "Can't you wait, for what?" he insists.

"For you to claim me... I've been waiting too long for you; I can't take it anymore.”

His mouth crashes against yours. It is violent, desperate, his mouth encompasses and demands upon yours, his tongue bursts inside your mouth and tangles with your own tongue. His hand closes tightly on the back of your neck, pulls at your hair and a moan escapes you. There is no gentleness, at least not now. Judas' free hand tightens on your thigh and moves up to your waist to press your body as close to his as possible. As if he wants to melt into you. His mouth mistreats yours, kisses you desperately, bites your lips leaving them red and swollen. But you don't care, you need more. When you are able to reciprocate you wrap your arms around his neck to kiss him intensely, panting against his mouth for some air, but he gives you no respite. The food has clearly taken a back seat, as has your conversation. Judas pulls you up to straddle his waist. You settle in by giving the table a little kick, it's too close to your wiggle room, but right now neither of you seem to care that something might end up in the dream and stain the carpet. There will be time for that.

You pull away from Judas' mouth at last, he goes back on the attack but you bite the top of his ear and he stops, his hands tightening on your waist. You gasp at the feel of him, you trap his lobe between your lips giving him a little tug, he grunts as you move down to his neck, you kiss and bite his skin. You sit on his lap and move against him, causing some friction between the two of you, hearing him let out a longer gasp. His hands move from your waist to your booties yanking them off, one of them hits the table and the plate jumps, but stays in place. Judas moves his hands up again, unloads one of his hands on your buttock and you groan at the sensation of discomfort that has ruffled your hair. He repeats the action, but this time, after the spanking, he grabs your cheek and you moan louder into his ear.

"Calm down, girl." He says against your lips. "We don't want to wake Mingus..." You gasp and shake your head, look up at him and kiss him biting his lip.

"Let's go to bed..." You whisper in his ear and before you can even move, he grabs your thighs and stands up with you on top of him. You can't help but let out a gasp of surprise holding tightly to his shoulders, you feel him laugh and you bite his ear again. He stops in the hallway pinning you against the wall.

"Don't do that..." He growls glaring at you. The shove against the wall has knocked the wind out of you, but you recover enough to grin mischievously at him.

"Why, are you just not able to control yourself, have you gotten too old?" You provoke him and you can see his gaze darken once again, however this time you feel some fear as he pushes you away from the wall.

"You're going to regret that." He assures you.

You enter the room, he releases you long enough to turn and close the door. You back away, trying to put some control in the situation, but it's clear that your comment has touched his pride more than you expected. He moves towards you, like an animal surveying its prey, pupils dilated, his blue color has turned dark, electric, he has squared his back and shoulders and surprisingly looks much larger, he pulls his arms back to pull his t-shirt over his head and drops it to the floor. You shiver at the image before you and unconsciously squeeze your legs together. Judas senses this and smiles, licking his lips as he continues to move closer to you. Your legs crash against the mattress and before you can pull away, Judas has laid you down on the mattress, getting on top of you. He kisses you, his mouth dominating yours, leaving your lips red and swollen again, he moves down your neck, licks and bites the skin under your ear knowing that for you it is an extremely sensitive area, you throw your head back unable to hold back a moan. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling his hair slightly, but Judas pulls away holding you by the wrists, putting them above your head.

"Is it that you can't resist touching me, little girl?" he says wryly and you smile defiantly. "Are you like a desperate old woman?" He finishes and you can't help but laugh heartily.

Your laughter is cut short by another nibble on your neck, you want to hug him again, but you're not going to give him that satisfaction, you grab the sheets and stretch your neck giving him more space. He goes down slowly, runs his mouth over it, down your collarbone, bites the bone leaving a small mark, goes down a little more and bites again, this time your chest, over the fabric of your t-shirt and over your bra. You smile because he seems really desperate. He pulls your shirt up to pull it over your head and you can see he smiles triumphantly when he discovers that your bra has a front clasp. He unclasps it and yanks it off you. You moan low as his mouth takes over one of your breasts, he licks your nipple, sucks and pinches it with his teeth, you arch at the sensation of pleasure, his free hand catches your other breast massaging it and squeezing the nipple, you moan low and bite your lip trying to control yourself, but he isn’t making it easy for you. You feel him open your legs and place a knee between them, he presses on your center and a shiver of pleasure runs through you at the sensation of pressure against your clit. He pulls away from you, gets up from the bed and pulls your pants down to drop them somewhere in the room, unceremoniously. His own pants go next and you discover to your amusement that he isn’t wearing any underwear. He's at home, why should he wear them? You bite your lip with some need, it's been too long since you've seen him totally naked. You sit on the bed and spread your legs wider, offering yourself. Judas approaches ready to lay you down again, however when he reaches your height, you grab his cock and begin to slowly masturbate him. Judas grunts as he watches you lick your lips before grabbing his erection from the base and taking it into your mouth. You suck and lick his glans taking as much as you can into your mouth. Judas gasps and moans hoarsely holding you by the hair moving his hips slightly against your mouth. You relax your throat and hold onto his waist feeling him push into your mouth, not too hard, not too deep. You feel him swell and get even harder with each suck with each thrust. He pulls away from you when he feels he's ready and lays you back down on the bed. He kneels in front of you taking off your last remaining garment. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his head between them. You arch up on the mattress feeling his tongue run all over your sex, as his fingers spread your wet folds and he slips a finger in without getting too much resistance. You gasp and moan as his mouth closes around your clit, he licks and sucks combined with his fingers that keep moving inside you. You move your hips not knowing whether to push against his mouth or fuck yourself on his fingers. You feel like your head is going to explode with pleasure, Judas holds you back with his free hand so you can't move. However you can't hold on much longer, his mouth on your sensitive muscle is ravaging your whole body, you feel the pleasure bursting in your lower abdomen expanding to the rest of your body, you moan loudly and shudder against his fingers, which he doesn't stop moving at any moment, feeling the spasms of your body due to the orgasm. You are still trembling when you feel the absence of his fingers inside you. You try to focus your gaze to see him lying on top of you. He holds your legs below your knees and guiding his cock to your entrance, he rams in one thrust. You cry out, but Judas shuts you up with his own mouth, you feel him snort and pant like an animal. He stands still inside you, you feel him throbbing, how your walls still sensitive from your orgasm clench around him wetting his entire cock, making him slide deeper. You gasp and Judas moans in your ear.

"Fuck... you don't know how much... I missed this..."He gasps, but still doesn't move, he lets you brace your legs against his waist and his hands rest on the mattress to look up at you. "Always so tight for me." He moves slowly, thrusts hard, erratic, you groan and dig your nails into his arms.

"Norman!" You call out to him desperately, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"You're mine, little girl." He thrusts hard again and you roll your eyes, that's going to kill you. "Mine..." He growls in your ear.

"I'm yours, Norman..." you assure him and move under his body, you see him bite his lip and his thrusts suddenly take on a faster pace, desperate, pounding mercilessly inside you, deep, and intense. "Oh God, Norman!" you cry out wanting to keep up with his rhythm, tightening around his cock. You hear him moan, hear him curse under his breath. He falls on top of your body, his hands sinking under the mattress to grip your ass and ram so hard you fear he might actually break you in two. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, dig your nails into his back and Judas moans once more in your ear. He tenses suddenly, his fingers squeeze your buttocks tightly and he thrusts one more single time feeling himself spilling inside you as he moans languidly hiding his face in your shoulder trying to catch his breath. You continue to embrace him, your whole body trembles from your own pleasure, your nails loosen his skin and caress the marks you have left. You kiss his cheek, his temple, you kiss his shoulder and his neck and you hear him purr.

"I am yours..." He whispers and you open your eyes wide, smile and hug him tighter against you, if that's possible.

You stay like that for a while, Judas doesn't move from on top of you, you don't mind either because he's not carrying all his weight on you, he's just hugging you, arms resting on both sides of your body, his face hidden in the hollow of your shoulder. He's still inside you, you can feel him slowly losing his strength, but still doesn't pull away. Your arms are still around his shoulders, caressing his hair, damp with sweat. You feel him move, repositioning himself, fitting his legs better under yours that continue to encircle his waist.

"God, you don't know how much I've missed this." He murmurs against your skin, making your hair stand on end.

"Come on, it's not like you haven't fucked the girls at the club."

"It's not the same... I missed being here, like this... inside you." He clarifies and a small laugh escapes you, cut off by a thrust of your hips. You gasp because you're surprised, he's just cummed and you feel him getting hard inside you again. He sits up slightly on top of you, just to look at you. He thrusts inside you again and you arch slightly as you feel him slowly harden, expanding your insides, still sensitive from your orgasm.

You have to admit, you missed him too, in every way, but certainly now what you feel is that you missed his cock. You kiss him eagerly, hold him by the back of the neck so he doesn't pull away and move under his body. You feel him gasp and push a little harder. You moan and arch your back. Your mind takes you back to the old days, when Judas seemed to have no limit and you smile. Maybe calling him old has hurt him more than you expected, but it amuses you.

"I see you missed me too." You hear him gasp while still moving tremendously slow.

"A little." You laugh against his shoulder, but nudge him lightly with your knee in his side.

He watches you bite your lip, he seems to hesitate but carefully pulls out of you joining you a little more, you join him in turn and knock him backwards. Judas lets himself be done without looking away from you, you squeeze his erection in your hand slowly masturbating him, feeling how he recovers all his thickness against your palm. You smile leaning over it ready to put it in your mouth, but he stops you. You look at him blankly, but he gestures for you to come to him. You straddle his waist and he nuzzles your waist.

"Today I just want to feel myself inside you." He growls, holds your cheeks forcing you to lie on top of him to kiss you. You sigh long, settle on top of him and move against him, press his new erection between you and move, exerting pleasurable pressure against your own clit as you moisten his cock with your own fluids, but still not letting it enter you. "Fuck, babe..." He moans low squeezing your ass with both hands.

"You're an impatient." You kiss his chest, move up his neck, bite his lobe, still moving, feeling his fingers crisp more on your skin. "Have you always been like this?"

"You know damn well I am." One of his hands whips you and you moan into his ear getting wet further if that's even possible.

You seek his mouth to kiss him once more, needily, trying to control the situation a little more. Judas reciprocates holding you by the back of the neck so you don't pull away. You bite his lips, lick inside his mouth and pull away, tugging lightly on his lip, hearing him moan low. You sit on top of him and watch him lick your lips, grab his cock and slowly feel him enter you as you sit on his erection. Judas grits his teeth spreading his legs a little apart, settling under your body to help you move, his hands tighten on your waist as he is fully inside you. You moan low and lean back slightly, leaning back on his legs and begin to move slowly. Judas moans low, his hands squeezing and massaging the skin of your hips, but he holds still, letting you take control, at least for now.

Slowly you increase the speed of your hips. Judas' hands hold you tightly, but he can't hold on any longer. He thrusts under your weight, upward, hard, giving you no respite. You cry out in pleasure, arching further over his body, trying to keep up with the cruel rhythm of his thrusts under your body. You both moan as Judas joins in, leaving you both sitting on the mattress, moving intensely, resting your foreheads on each other, feeling your orgasm much closer than either of you expected, feeling the sensation run through your lower abdomen and explode with such force that it takes your breath away. You open your mouth unable to utter a sound the pleasure devouring you from within. Judas rests his head on your chest and his fingers dig into your skin leaving a mark as he cums inside you. You gasp at the sensation of his cum leaking inside you, you hug his shoulders feeling your body still trembling from the violent climax that has enveloped you in a few seconds. Judas’ hands loosen around your waist, just stroking you slowly, from your waist up your back and up your sides. He holds you carefully lying on top of him, you place your legs better on his sides and lean on his chest caressing his arms still around you. You smile because he is still inside you and can feel his cum dripping out of you, completely full. You sigh closing your eyes, your body is exhausted and your head starts to disconnect as you feel Judas’ fingers making soft circles on your back, relaxing in an unexpected way.

"Dad?" You hear on the other side of the door and as it is opened slightly.

"Mingus!" Judas shouts pulling you in, turning with you so that he was hiding your nakedness from the boy, however the door stops and the little boy doesn’t enter. You feel Judas pull out of you and cover you with the sheets as he stands up and pulls on some boxers from his drawer and hurries to the door, opening it just a little.

"What's wrong, champ?" You hear him leave the room and the muffled voice of the boy telling you possibly about some nightmare he's had and why he's gotten up looking for his father. You sigh and feel a small fit of laughter and embarrassment come over you and you pull the covers over your face to muffle the sound of your nervous laughter. Judas walks to his son's room and climbs him into bed and tucks him back in. He has had a rather complicated nightmare and seems quite nervous, Judas comforts him slowly, trying to calm that nervousness by kissing him on the forehead. Slowly Mingus becomes calm, Eye settles down next to him and purrs loudly. Judas smiles and strokes his son's new fur. "Come on, time to sleep again." He tells him and the boy smiles. "But first, you have to promise me one thing, buddy... never come into my room." He asks him, his voice is calm, loving, there's no threat, no anger, he's just asking him. "Will you do me that favor? No matter what you hear. Call me and I'll come get you, okay?"

"Yes, Dad, I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, you haven't done anything wrong." He assures him and kisses him on the cheek. "Good night, buddy, I love you."

"Good night, Daddy." He whispers and settles under the covers. Judas pats Eye in the Dark and making sure once again that the boy is comfortable, he turns off the light and leaves the room.

He stands in the hallway for a moment and then heads back to his room, running his hands over his head, combing his hair back slightly, leaving it even messier than it already is. He enters the room ready to apologize to you but remains silent. You have fallen asleep in his bed, wrapped in his sheets and hugging his pillow you rest peacefully with your breathing steady and your face totally relaxed. He smiles half-sideways closing the door behind him again and walks over to the bed. Trying not to wake you up he lies down next to you and wraps his arms around your body, he pulls you close to his body and you stir a little, settling against him but you don't wake up. Judas kisses you on the head lovingly before resting his chin on your head and closing his eyes, falling asleep shortly afterwards.

The sun wakes you up the next day, you let out a little groan because you feel your body heavy, exhausted, despite having slept like a baby you feel that even your hair hurts. You need a moment to remember where you are, how you got there rather. You are bored at home, you left without a specific direction but you arrived at the Judas gallery, you discovered the new exhibition of the two of you and wanted to go home, however your feet took you to the house you weren't thinking about. You groan low hiding your face in the pillow and the scent of Judas floods your nostrils. You open your eyes at last discovering you are alone in the room. The sun is high so it must be late, you get out of bed feeling your legs tremble a little and you redden realizing why your whole body hurts. You go into Judas' bathroom and take a quick shower, under the water you discover on your skin several reddened marks in the shape of Judas' fingers, you smile and get out when you finish showering.

When you return to the room, Judas is still not there. You open the closet looking for some of the man's clothes and surprise floods you. There are clothes of yours there; neatly folded, laid out and clean, as if they were waiting for you, of course they are clothes from when you were younger and some of those things no longer fit you, but you can't help the surprise turning into a nostalgic smile and your heart gives a strong beat. Judas has always been waiting for you. You take a T-shirt that despite being old is big, you wore it to sleep at that time and now it can serve you, you take some sweatpants that surely when you put them on will surely be above your ankles. You open a drawer inside the closet and you laugh when you discover your underwear, even the panties you threw at him not more than a month ago. You take everything and when you are dressed you get up the courage to leave the room. The house seems quiet, however you hear a soft conversation possibly coming from the kitchen, in the hallway Eye is sitting, watching you, he gets up and approaches you rubbing against your legs, you smile and take him in your arms giving him a kiss on the head feeling that you have missed him more than you thought. You walk with him in your arms to the kitchen where Judas is having breakfast with Mingus who upon seeing you appear through the door is surprised to see you and laughs at the sight of your clothes. Judas turns to see you as well and an amused smile comes across his face as he raises his eyebrows. Your cheeks redden slightly and you shrug your shoulders.

"Good morning." You try to appear natural and walk towards them.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Judas jokes and gets up from his stool, you freeze because you don't know what he's going to do, however he walks past you, pulls out a cup and pours you a coffee, you breathe easy again, until he hands you the cup and gives you a kiss on the cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

"Y... yes." You stammer reddening, make your coffee to your liking then sit on the free stool next to Judas, Mingus doesn't take his eyes off you and you start to get nervous.

"Did you stay over?" It's an obvious question but you still nod your head. "Where? The guest room..."

"She slept with me, Mingus." Jude explains without cutting himself with a knife and you look at him with wide eyes. He's a five-year-old boy who doesn't understand a lot of things yet, but it's certainly not the best thing he could say to him. The kid can misunderstand things, you guys haven't even talked. You don't even know if you want to.

"Auntie and you...?" He starts with an exaggerated frown and makes a confused grimace. "Are you two together?" And there's the misunderstanding from an innocent, immature mind of a child. You gasp like a fish, you see Judas turn his head towards you, his smile is mocking and amused as he rubs his goatee beard.

"Don't look at me, you brought this on yourself." You say to Judas and watch as he smiles wider and then laughs through his nose. He turns to his son and you see him open his mouth. Unfortunately you have provoked what is to come so you can't stop it in time either.

"Yes, Mingus, we are together." His smile is sincere as much as the boy's surprise, you want to smash the coffee cup over his head, but it's clear he's not finished. "She's my wife, you know what that means? That she's mine, just like I'm hers." Your body shudders at his words, Mingus' confusion is evident, these are terms that such a young child is counted on to understand, but he still smiles because his father does and that means what he's telling him is good. "You can't tell anyone, it's our little secret, the three of us." He continues and Mingus puts his hands to his mouth making it clear that he won't say anything, your heart melts and you feel like hugging the little blondie. "I promise it won't be forever. When the club stabilizes, I'm going to make it formal." This time he's not talking to Mingus, but to you, you turn to look at him and frown slightly.

"We've already talked about this, Judas, and I don't think in front of Mingus..."

"I don't want you to be Judas' wife..." He cuts you off and again you freeze. "I want you to be my wife, mine for real. Of who I really am; Norman Reedus. I want you to call me by my name, like you always did, I want you to come back here, I want you to stay here with me, with us... because that's really where you belong. I love you." Your breath hitches because that overtakes you for a few seconds, it's a statement, a formal statement, Judas, no, Norman is putting his feelings on the table, not caring that Mingus is present, right now he's only looking at you, he's determined, you can see his pupils slightly dilated, serious, ready for whatever it takes, but he needs you by his side, he wants to have you with him, because it's clear that this goes beyond the club, it goes beyond the future he's pursuing for Mingus and apparently it also involves you, him. All three of you. You look at him trying to say something, but you're still totally paralyzed. Norman smiles a little and his hand rests on your cheek, you feel him sweep a tear from your cheek with his thumb, when did you start to cry?

"I love you..." You whisper with a trickle of voice.

You see Norman smile and rest his other hand on your other cheek leaning towards you, leaving a small kiss on your lips. Mingus claps and raises his arms in victory mode and you can't help but laugh. It's so surreal that you don't know if you're really awake or still sleeping. But it feels so good that if it's a dream, you don't want to wake up.

Things will be complicated in the club from now on, you know it, you are aware that there are going to be many changes, that Jesus is going to take his position as president, whether your father likes it or not, but he will not be alone, his people will help him, they will support him, Jax's gang will also be part of the movement, they will attack together against the old school, they don't care what it costs, but they will change their future, for a better one. And you are going to be by his side, because you want that future, you want to be part of the future of the new 12 Apostles, of Norman, of Mingus.

The End

I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for reading!

And other thing... I'm writing a new long story, I'm not really sure when I could post it, I think I want to finish it first... But I don't know... I'm just going to say... WEREWOLVES!

[eternalsimp]

Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you�� into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

[shijiujun]

Okay if y’all have read my top 2020 danmei list from a week or two back, you’ll know this is currently my favourite danmei (outside of Qi Wei Shang + 2ha hahaha), so here’s a proper, full rec!

- Part of Min’s ‘Why You Should Read’ Series -

Summary:

Ji Yan Ran is the Emperor’s brother and wields military power in the novel, and it starts with an object being stolen from the palace. Ji Yan Ran has to retrieve the item secretly, and so enlists the help of Feng Yu Sect’s Sect Master, Yun Yi Feng, who heads the martial arts world’s one and only information trading post. Yun Yi Feng does not deal in business that involves any royalty, but Jing Yan Ran offers him something he cannot refuse - the Blood Red Lingzhi, a rare and mystical herb that is rumoured to be able to treat his life-threatening condition.

Yun Yi Feng was used by his shifu when he was younger to test out all kinds of poisons and cures, and since then, his body flushes dangerously hot and cold frequently, with bouts of severe coughing fits in between. Throughout the first mission where he spends time with Ji Yan Ran searching for the stolen object, he allows Jing Yan Ran to take care of him. Their relationship is pretty flirty and touchy right off the bat, with Ji Yan Ran knowing really clearly that he wants to take care of Yun Yi Feng. When Yun Yi Feng goes anywhere without a coat, JYR always has one ready. He promises all his riches to him, even his mother hahaha (but that’s because he knows he deceived YYF with the Blood Red Lingzhi and is willing to give YYF everything else while also continuing to look for the lingzhi for him). 

Of course, they have to uncover a plot and conspiracy against their enemies who are plotting to dethrone the Emperor, and also reveal the secrets of Yun Yi Feng’s birth.

Read:

Novel (Online) | Novel (Print) - Not Available | Novel Translations | Manhua

Characters:

1. 云倚风 Yun Yi Feng (right) - The revered Sect Master of Feng Yu Sect as his sect controls the flow and movement of information. People from all over buy information or hire the sect to help them get information, and is considered a neutral sect within the wuxia world. Very intelligent, a cool-headed strategist who also loves riches, whose eyes light up at the sight of treasures and money.

He was a child remnant of a war, and picked up by his shifu Gui Ci, who brought him to this island to live with other kids he picked up. His first few years were spent rather happily there, but then one day the man gave all the children bowls of what they thought was soup but ended up being poison because Gui Ci wanted to test out his new concoctions. At the end, only YYF survived after multiple ingestions of poisons and experimental cures. Because he was the ‘strongest’ out of all the other children, Gui Ci began testing out all sorts of poisons and cures on him after. If someone came to him after having been poisoned, Gui Ci would poison YYF in the same way as a test subject to use cures on, and only after they worked on YYF would he use them on the patient. 

His shifu is considered a mad man, and the last straw was when he locked YYF up with several scorpions for a few days and YYF was the closest thing to death at that moment, and afterwards, realizing that he’d gone overboard, Gui Ci is more careful about poisoning him, allowing him to have a slightly more normal childhood, but because of this YYF’s body would flush hot and cold frequently and unbearably. He manages to escape from Gui Ci and sets up Feng Yu Sect.

He only has 5 years left to live if he doesn’t find the Blood Red Lingzhi, when he meets Ji Yan Ran and his request. After meeting JYR he realizes how sweet life is, to have someone who always thinks of him, who cares about his well-being, who wants to make him happy, who buys and gives him everything he wants. In the beginning he is unable to reciprocate knowing he’ll die soon, but they get together anyway after a close call, as JYR tries to find the Lingzhi for him.

He also loves to cook and play the zither, but is so bad at both!! He’s so terrible that every time he approaches the kitchen or the zither the servants themselves try to redirect him subtly and chase him away because they CANNOT stand his dishes or his music hahahaha.

2. 季燕然 Ji Yan Ran (left) - Army commander/general, and a prince. Close to the Emperor, who’s his older brother, and takes a liking to YYF the moment he meets him. He bluffs YYF, says that he has the Blood Red Lingzhi, and then realizing how much YYF needs it, he feels more guilty and guilty for lying to him, and once admitting it, he promises to do whatever it takes to find it for him.  

He’s very smart as well, has eyes only for YYF and is willing to indulge him in every single whim he has. If YYF complains that he doesn’t have anything to wear (even in jest), JYR has the garment stores in the whole city send 10 outfits each for YYF to pick. And even though he hates YYF’s cooking and playing of the zither, he lets him do it anyway, fond but exasperated while everyone is staring daggers at him for not stopping YYF.

A few years ago, a close friend of his and the Emperor’s died, and JYR suspects that their father had something to do with it. It’s something that has been troubling him for many years and it’s a dilemma for him because he has to balance between questioning the Emperor but also trusting him and being a good brother/official to him, as clues keep pointing towards the Emperor and his father being involved in shady deals/decisions. His relationship with the Emperor, his brother, can be described as close, but of course even though they are close and trust each other to a good extent, there is still room for a tiny bit of doubt that both brothers are well aware of due to their positions, not that this affects their relationship.

Openly is affectionate to YYF in front of everyone, including his mother, who likes YYF alot as well. YYF once worried if the Emperor would oppose his relationship with him, but JYR said that their relationship should put the Emperor even more at ease, because the world and other officials would not recognize an Emperor who liked men and didn’t have any children, meaning that JYR becomes an even smaller threat to the throne.

3. 暮成雪 Mu Cheng Xue - An assassin who keeps popping up throughout the novel, and is a frenemy to YYF especially because he stole the cuteass snow leopard that was supposed to be YYF’s and refuses to return it. Not good nor bad, he does whatever he’s paid for.

4. 江凌飞 Jiang Ling Fei - JYR’s godbrother, who didn’t have a good childhood with no one to protect him in the Jiang family, one of the big wuxia families in the novel, as he had no parents and was technically brought up by his scheming uncles/cousins etc. He befriended JYR when they were younger and acknowledged JYR’s mother as his godmother because she was truly and genuinely good to him, and spends a large part of his days running in and out of the Jing manor. He’s JYR’s right hand man, but his dream is to be a bum wandering through different parts of the world, having fun whenever instead of being boggled down by duties to the Jiang family and other things.

Amazing Scenes:

YYF unceremoniously using JYR’s arm as a pillow while he’s talking 

Basically YYF fainting and getting sick a lot and JYR always there to catch him ;-; To dote on him!!! Ahhhh my heart

Other Things I Like in the Novel:

The first time YYF plays the zither in the Jing manor, JYR’s mother, shaking, goes to JYR and asks, “Is Yun-er learning some evil cultivation music?”

YYF tends to go out to the markets and will buy back 2kg of flour for example, while all the servants shudder in the fear and cry in front of JYR, who can only sigh but indulge him

YYF’s favourite things include JYR’s mother taking his blankets out to soak up the sunlight in the day so he has fluffy, warmth-filled and fresh-smelling covers everyday to collapse into

JYR once asked YYF if it’s a good thing that he met him, and YYF says, “Of course it’s a good thing I met wangye, because of you, I now know that life can be sweet and warm too.”

YYF carves out what he thinks the Blood Red Lingzhi looks like based on some bogus description JYR gave him and because he’s so hopeful and happy about finally being able to have the lingzhi, he carves it out and wears it like a pendant, and everytime JYR sees it he wants to slap himself for being such a motherfucking asshole and deceiving this man

YYF keeps forgetting his cape/coat, so JYR always gives him his, but YYF keeps taking and not returning and on the fourth time it happens, YYF looks at JYR expectantly, and JYR says, “You’ve already taken three, this is my last one, I’m gonna freeze to death, left without a cape if I give you this one”

JYR always tempts YYF into doing things by giving him treasures, and jokingly promises YYF his army commander ring, which symbolizes his authority and power, and YYF unceremoniously takes it knowing what it is, and refuses to return it to him - After a few times this happens, JYR makes a replica of it so they matchy matchy ;-;

They travel South in a holiday for a few months after the first arc is wrapped up, knowing that YYF doesn’t have much time left to live, and every single day is painful for JYR as the time YYF spends conscious decreases day by day

YYF asks for some oil/salve to use as lube from the army camp’s physician, a night before JYR is due to go off for war, and the physician scolds the messenger for having the time to think about such thoughts, and when the messenger says it’s for YYF, physician is like “... oh. okay, here you go, give this to him” without another word HAHAHAHA

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 10

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot:   You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a   desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer:   Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help  your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

--

Chapter 10: Wedding Plans

< | Previous Chapter

Your first night at the new kingdom was rough. You laid in your bed for hours, your blanket pulled to your chin. You wanted nothing more to sleep- it sounded like a blessing at the moment. It didn’t come easy, and you eventually moved to look out the window instead. The blanket hung around your shoulders as you did, a quiet sigh spilling from your lips. The view outside felt completely different at night, the soft glow of the moon spilling over the land. In the surrounding city you could make out the warm glow from the lamps. It was surreal, feeling so much more different than your home.

You pondered about what your life here would entail. Techno hadn’t really said too much. You figured you would be told as the days went on what to expect. You figured most of your time as of current would be dedicated to preparation for the wedding. Maybe even some training, if Techno found time to do so. You didn’t know what his duties would entail, and how similar they would be to George’s. You’d adjust inevitably. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on you, your gaze once more shifting to the bed longingly. You weren’t entirely sure if you would be able to fall asleep just yet. You pondered going to the library, but decided against it. That was on the other side of the castle. You didn’t have the confidence to go alone at night, either. Beyond Techno and his brothers, you didn’t know who to trust.

So, with a defeated sigh, you trudged back to the bed and wrapped the blanket tight around you. Might as well try to sleep. Absorbing yourself into your thoughts would only lead to exhaustion tomorrow. Which wasn’t what you really wanted. You knew tomorrow would inevitably be busy. The wedding had been mentioned multiple times, you knew there needed to be planning for that.

It felt like you had only blinked, head full of thoughts of the wedding, when you were cracking your eyes open. Light spilled into the room through the window you had gazed out of earlier, making you sigh. Breakfast. The thought made your stomach turn a little. This would be your first proper introduction to the court. Sure you knew plenty of people, but you had managed to evade dinner last night due to the tour. You couldn’t as easily escape the obligation of breakfast. If you did, your body would make you pay dearly later. Besides, you couldn’t avoid it forever.

You peeled yourself out of bed, wandering towards the closet. You wanted to make a good impression on everyone, without being so horribly overstated. You freted, before settling on one of your simpler dresses. You set it aside, thumbing through your jewelry for something to wear. You briefly ran your thumb over the necklace Dream had given you, marveling it. It was almost tempting to wear it, to have that comfort and security you had always felt with the blonde. Yet you decided against it, choosing something less understated that your mother had given you on one of your birthdays.

Once satisfied with the choice in clothes, you stole away to the bathroom. It had been a couple of days since you last bathed, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt. You did skeptically eye the full bath, trying to guess when servants had slipped into your room to fill it. No matter. Steam rolled along the surface of it, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you slid into it. It worked rather quickly to relax your muscles and nerves. You definitely needed that. You eyed the small shelf by the tub, picking up a few of the bottles to smell them.

One smelled of vanilla, which you deeply considered. The other you smelled carried the scent of rose and lemon, a scent you easily recognized. It was hardly different from the one you used at home, which you had forgotten to bring. The only thing that seemed to be missing was the base note of patchouli, and you did miss the earthiness just a touch. All the same, you were content that this was here, wherever it came from. You quickly used the bottle to help freshen yourself up. A quick run over with a damp cloth ensured you were rid of any dirt. As the water began to cool, you finally pulled yourself up and out of the tub to dress.

You lingered in the room, fingers running over your dress a few times. Nervously. You really didn’t want to walk into the dining hall alone. As if to answer your silent pleas, there was a knock on your door that you quickly answered. Techno stood on the other end, peering down at you through his glasses. You offered a soft smile, trying to hide your nerves.

“I figured I should walk with you to breakfast. Since we missed dinner and all,” He explained, but you only nodded. You stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind you as you did so.

“Right, sorry about that, still. I appreciate you walking with me.” Your hands once more smoothed down over your dress, almost fussing on if your appearance was perfect. Who all would be there? Perhaps just a few other nobles, maybe the King’s advisors. It shouldn’t be too big, should it?

“Making things seem distant between us would only give people reason to dislike you.” The words only served to make you shudder, a frown on your face. You easily recalled Philza’s words of the advisor, the thought causing your stomach to turn. This was going to be a rough breakfast, you already knew.

“Right. Some people aren’t exactly excited about this. That’s fine. I’m prepared for that,” You muttered in an attempt to reassure yourself. Techno reached up, giving a reassuring pat against your back.

“They’re harmless. It doesn’t matter what they think,” Techno muttered as the pair of you descended the stairs. You sighed but nodded. He was right, honestly. It wasn’t like the king hated you, and the rest of the royal family seemed to at least not hate you. So long as they didn’t hate you, you hoped you could stomach the rest. From down the hall you could already hear Tommy making a fuss, causing you to smile. That helped ease your nerves. It was a different environment than you were used to.

You glanced at the table as you walked in, relieved by the familiar faces around the table. Techno moved towards his father, pausing to pull out one of the empty chairs and motioning you into it. Your eyes scanned the few unfamiliar faces as you sat down, trying to ease your anxiety.

“Mornin’ Techno! Mornin’ Techno’s wife!” Tommy called as Techno sat between you and his father, causing the pink-headed prince to glance at his brother.

“She’s not my wife yet, Tommy,” he simply clarified, sounding far from amused.

“How’d you sleep, kiddo?” Philza detracted the attention from his rambunctious nephew, offering you a smile. You relaxed a little, appreciating the older man’s words.

“I slept alright,” You murmured, offering a feeble smile. You hadn’t slept great, or all that much, and you had a feeling it showed on your face.

“It’s a new place, that’s always rough. I’m sure it’ll get better soon.” You could only nod at his words, thankful for the reassurance. He was nice, and truthfully you enjoyed that about him. He felt very much fatherly. Techno slid a cup in front of you, steam billowing from it. You smiled thankfully, offering a quiet thank you as you picked it up. Tea was definitely acceptable this early in the morning, especially as a slight chill clung to the castle.

The man sat beside Philza cleared his throat, offering a gentle smile. Your attention quickly turned to him, brow furrowing a little. He wasn’t someone you recognized- definitely didn’t meet him yesterday. “A pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Eret- cousin to those three.” He motioned to the prince’s as he talked, and you nodded slightly.

“Nice to meet you. Techno never mentioned having a cousin.” You set down the cup in your hands, glancing at Techno briefly. He furrowed his brow, a soft ‘heh?’ leaving him.

“He likes to forget about him.” Wilbur spoke up, causing Tommy to laugh. You sighed, shaking your head with a small laugh.

“I don’t know how! Eret’s been here since he was little,” Tommy spoke between laughter, making your gaze turn back to the brunette across from you. He seemed almost embarrassed, shrugging.

“I’m sure Techno had a lot on his mind whenever he spoke of the kingdom, there’s a lot of people to remember here.” Eret didn’t seem too bothered by the lapse of information, and you shrugged.

“He mentioned Tubbo, though. Is he forgetful enough to mention a family friend as opposed to his actual family?” You teased, throwing a sly grin at Techno. It was easy to slip into this with the egging on of his brothers.

“Oh- Did he really? I mean, I practically did grow up with Tommy,” Tubbo asked, head popping up.

“You’re like a little brother to us, Tubbo. You were always there, Eret didn’t come to the kingdom until Techno was almost seven, remember?” Wilbur pushed, and the brunette seemed to purse his lips in thought.

“Not well, no. We love Eret anyways!” The man between Eret and Tubbo scoffed, a hand holding his head. Tired brown eyes stared at his plate, a glass bottle in hand. He looked rough, stubble lining his jaw and brown locks falling into his eyes. You eyed the brown liquid within the bottle as silence fell over the table.

“That’s Schlatt, the advisor Philza spoke of yesterday,” Techno’s voice came quietly against your ear, making you jump in surprise. When the hell had he gotten there? Your attention quickly turned back to the man as he took a drink from the bottle. Was that alcohol?

Physically, you could see the similarities between him and Tubbo, but that was about it. Even now, the younger brunette seemed largely uncomfortable next to him. It made your chest pang, wondering what all had happened to cause the rift in their relationship.

Schlatt stood up with a grunt, sloppily pushing in his chair. “Come on, Tubbo. We’ve got work to do,” Schlatt called. There was a drawl in his voice that made you rather uncomfortable. You didn’t like him, and you had a feeling it was similar to the way the princes felt towards him.

Tubbo looked down to his plate, seemingly steeling himself. “Yes, Schlatt,” he muttered softly. What had Schlatt done that had made the brunette become so quiet? You didn’t like it one bit. Before Tubbo could even move to follow his father, you spoke out.

“Actually, I was hoping I could borrow Tubbo for today!” Tubbo’s head snapped up at that, eyes wide. You blinked, not even sure what you were saying. Schlatt stopped his walk, bottle hanging from his hand as he turned to look at you. Perhaps glare was a better word? You swallowed, steeling yourself as you continued, “I’d really appreciate his input on the wedding plans.”

“The wedding,” Schlatt sneered, eyes narrowed. His gaze moved from you, to Techno, then to his son. “Whatever, take the bastard for the ridiculous wedding. Like I give a damn.” With his words, he took a swig from the bottle before sauntering out of the dining hall. With his leave, the tension in the room seemed to dissipate.

A relieved sigh escaped Tubbo’s lips as he slumped in his seat, closing his eyes. “Thank you so much,” He mumbled into his hands. You sighed, shaking your head a little. Not exactly what you had expected, but you’d take it. 

“I hate that he keeps calling you that,” Tommy grumbled, while Wilbur just patted his shoulder.

“It gets him away from Schlatt for today, so what’s it matter?” Wilbur offered with a shrug. Tommy just continued to grumble under his breath while Tubbo offered a weak smile.

“You don’t actually have to help with the wedding. I just didn’t feel right leaving you to go with him.” You brushed it off with a smile. It was true, though. You truly didn’t want to send Tubbo off with Schlatt. The man gave off a bad vibe you didn’t like in the slightest. So, coming up with an excuse seemed the most feasible. The king sighed and shook his head, otherwise staying quiet. You had a feeling this wasn’t too different from a normal morning.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind helping! If everyone doesn’t mind,” Tubbo sheepishly chimed, moving to rub the nape of his neck. Tommy groaned dramatically, slouching in his chair.

“Tubbo, come on. You’re gonna make us do stupid wedding planning all day? With Eret and Wilbur and Techno? At one time?” You snickered a little as he complained, head shaking. Wilbur smacked him in the back of his head in response to his dramatics.

“Your opinion doesn’t count, Tommy.” His voice was so plain, even as the young blonde whined and rubbed the back of his head.

“I’ll show you what does count! I swear, I’ll beat you so hard you won’t be able to remember your own name!” He shoved at his brother, and you shook your head.

“I don’t mind if you tag along, Tubbo. I’m sure the input will be appreciated,” You spoke over the ruckus of Wilbur and Tommy as the two pushed at each other. The words seemed to make Tubbo glow with excitement, almost as if the whole thing with Schlatt hadn’t ever happened.

“Alright, boys, go outside before you break a plate or the table. Go on, do your fighting there.” Philza spoke from behind them, and your head popped up. He must have moved while you were focused on Tubbo. Tommy was stuck beneath Wilbur’s arm, the older yanking him around. Philza unceremoniously pulled out the chairs they sat on, forcing them apart as he shooed them away. He looked exasperated, but fond of their antics all the same.

“I’ll judge!” Tubbo called, standing up hurriedly. He gave a brief, sloppy bow towards the king before running after the two princes.

“Is it like this every morning?” You sat down your utensils, reclining in your seat.

“Not every morning, but a lot of them. It wasn’t always this way,” Eret shook his head but smiled. You turned to Techno, where he stared towards the door with an affectionate look in his eyes. It was almost sweet, seeing the way he gazed after the rambunctious trio.

“It only started to get like that a few years ago. Not quite becoming of princes, but they don’t seem in a rush to behave like royalty.” Techno’s voice had the same fondness his gaze did, and you hummed in acknowledgement as you sipped the last of your tea, cradling the cup close.

“Not anymore, at least. We should go and start doing some planning ourselves,” Philza muttered, turning towards the king. The man nodded, slowly rising from his seat.

“Please see to it your brothers don’t destroy anything this time, Technoblade.” He gave him a pointed look, making him sigh and nod. The king walked away, Philza tailing behind him. Leaving you, Techno, and Eret sitting.

“Well, let’s get started? There’s no telling how long it’ll take. Especially since Wilbur is currently in the process of fighting Tommy.” Eret shook his head as he spoke. You nodded, moving to stand. A hand entered your vision before you could even get to your feet. You shook your head, unable to help a laugh.

“Should I get used to you not letting me get out of my seat on my own?” You managed a lighthearted jab at him as you took his hand, allowing him to gently pull you up.

“Yes.” The way he said it was so flat and monotone, you couldn’t stop the laugh bursting from your lips. You just shook your head, giving a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, Techno. Wanting to teach me to fight but not letting me get out of a chair without hovering.” His lips pursed at that, eyebrows furrowing. Like he saw nothing wrong with it. Not that there truly was, it just seemed almost contradictory. Eret even seemed equally amused, though he didn’t poke at his cousin the way you did.

“I’ll go ahead and get the boys before they destroy each other. I’ll meet you in the ballroom with them.” Techno gently pushed you towards his cousin, before striding off in front of you. You shrugged, walking alongside Eret towards the ballroom.

“It’s gonna be an interesting day, isn’t it?” You questioned, glancing up at Eret. Of course he was tall. It really did run in the family.

“Most likely, yes. They’re never quiet, and Tommy gets antsy quick,” Eret said with a laugh, making you smile. You didn’t think you would mind too much if it made it lively. It would take care of the uneasiness you felt regarding the wedding. A relief to the tension you had a feeling might form if it were just you and Techno.

“You didn’t always live here at the castle?” You broached the silence that had spread over the pair of you, and he hummed a little.

“No. I came around the time I was eight. Their mother was my aunt, and some things happened with my parents. Philza ended up adopting me, so I’m just a cousin on their other side now,” He chuckled, and you nodded. That made some sense. It just seemed the castle was hardly lacking in boys to run the place.

“I see. I imagine that keeps it rather busy here.” You shook your head, following as Eret opened the door to the ballroom.

“Very. Right! This is where the majority of the wedding will be held. The celebrations, namely. The formal ceremony will be held in the gardens, we’ll go through those in a little bit.” Eret clapped his hands together, leading you through the ballroom. He pointed to various spots, explaining the plans he had for the celebrations. You would nod along, pitching in your own opinions when you felt it necessary.

“I think you should go to the brothel and get some women,” A new voice chimed in from near the veranda, making you jump.

“I like the way you think, Big Q! It’s not a party without some women!” Tommy responded, and you turned towards the voices. You blinked at the new person standing among the princes, a lopsided grin on his face. His black hair was splayed messily on his head, smudges of dirt along his face. You had a feeling he had been messing with the other, who also had dirt on their faces and bodies. What a mess. Tubbo and Tommy even seemed to have a few forming bruises on their arms, Tommy’s hidden by the same green bandana he had worn in the portrait you saw in the dining hall. 

“I don’t think the princess is fond of the idea of there being whores at her wedding, Quackity,” Wilbur piped up upon seeing your rather deadpan face. The expression was similarly mimicked by Techno, who stood behind the four of them.

“Princess? Oh- shit!” Quackity did a double take, before giving a hurried bow. Seemingly remembering exactly who he was talking to. Amusement at the almost embarrassed look on his face caused your lips to twitch up into a smile.

“Right. Yes. I would prefer there to not be women from the brothel at my wedding, Quackity.” You tested his name out carefully, and he slowly stood up from his bow. Tommy snickered from behind him, failing to hide his amusement at the fool he seemingly made for himself. He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing softly.

“I would also prefer to keep it that way,” Techno said as he stepped around the group, back towards you. He stood on your other side, leaving you in the middle of the two men. Which made you feel incredibly small.

“You two are so boring, what’s the fun without women?” Tommy groaned, trailing behind Wilbur and Tubbo as they wandered over as well. 

“You’ll have fun anyways, Tommy. You always manage.” Tubbo barely looked at his friend, eagerly listening to Eret as he went over what he had been telling you once more. The group gathered around you, but you hardly minded right now.

“I was thinking, Tubbo and I could do some of the music. We’ll have other musicians too, but I think it’d be nice to be able to play. It’s not every day your little brother gets married,” Wilbur talked, grinning over to Techno. Techno huffed, head shaking as the older affectionately threw out the term.

“Oh, that’d be wonderful!” You lit up with a smile, fully on board with the idea. Wilbur smiled back, seemingly fond of your approval.

“And,” he started, his grin turning almost mischievous, “I think it would be even better if our groom here plays a piece himself. You do play violin after all, Techno.” The words made your hopeful gaze turn towards Techno. He looked almost neutral, though his eyebrows were furrowed and a faint flush painted his cheeks.

“Well, I-” He grumbled, looking down to you and your soft smile. He gave an almost frustrated sigh, looking away. “Fine. I’ll play something.” He huffed a little.

“Perfect! So we’ve got rough plans for the ballroom decorations and the music.” You clapped your hands together, grinning.

“What the hell, Techno? You never play for anyone!” Tommy whined, eyes wide as he looked between you and him.

“It is his wedding, Tommy. It’s only fitting he plays,” Tubbo defended. Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity bickered about Techno’s playing as Eret led that large group towards the veranda. Techno held your hand as you went down the stairs. Tommy made a mocking gag sound, and Quackity simply imitated Techno, holding his hand out for Tommy.

“Quackity, stop it, I’m not holding your hand,” Tommy complained, nose wrinkling. You shook your head, eyes rolling. They really were like children. 

You peered at the flowers as you walked to the gardens, looking for any you recognized. Eret spoke about the plans, and you absently nodded along. At least until he showed you where the ceremony would be held. “Here?” You murmured curiously, looking at the flowers. Your fingers ran over the petals, trying to note the flowers you did see. The easiest to identify was the roses- why was it always roses? Red bled into the white from the edges, and you smiled just slightly. They were pretty, most of the ones back home were either red, white, or yellow. Rarely hybrids. The only time you received a hybrid of one was from dream, but they were never red and white. Always red and yellow.

Curled near the roses stood a plant with broad green leaves and occasional clumps of pink flowers. It was faintly familiar, and you struggled to place it. You remembered Dream stating that they weren’t the best flower, trying his best to remove it from the gardens. You had no idea why, though, as it seemed to be doing just fine here. A hand grabbed yours as you went to run your fingers along the leaves, tugging it away.

“Careful,” Techno mumbled. He dropped your hand, lifting the leaves carefully. Behind them was a thick branch, coated in thorns. You had barely noticed them, stretching out about an inch. You had been so focused on the flowers.

“Thank you,” you murmured, turning back towards Eret with a soft smile. “This’ll do wonderful. What’s next?”

“That’s most of the basic stuff for decoration at the moment. I think Nihachu wanted to discuss catering? I have to get some stuff together for your dress, but I can come find you when I have,” Eret explained. You nodded, seemingly content with the idea.

“Do we have to come along?” Tommy groaned loudly, clearly growing bored with all of the proceedings. You laughed, head shaking.

“You never had to, Tommy. I think the only people obligated are Techno and I.” You shrugged, letting the group move back towards the castle.

“Come on then, Tubbo. Let’s get out of here, this is so damn boring.” The brunette looked towards you as if for confirmation, and you simply waved your hand. You didn’t expect them to truly tag along for too long. Especially Tommy, he didn’t seem the patient type to deal with planning.

“I’ll come check in later!” Tubbo tried to offer as Tommy, and Quackity, practically dragged him off. For what, you had no idea, but you didn’t want to ask questions. This thinned out the large group, allowing you to let out a soft breath. It was less crowded, which you definitely appreciated.

“Nihachu said she’d be in the dining hall with some samples of food for you to try,” Wilbur spoke, pausing at the top of the veranda. He watched Techno help you up, Eret slipping away from the three of you to go do what he needed.

“Sounds good with me,” You hummed. This might be one of the longer parts of the day, but you didn’t mind. Food was important, especially for a wedding. Even if it was stunning with beautiful music, you knew it would feel empty without proper food. As most celebrations would. Inside the dining hall was the same woman Wilbur was with the day prior, fussing over various plates on the table.

“Nihachu!” Wilbur called, causing the blonde to look up. She grinned up at him, practically bounding over to him to give him a hug. 

“Staying to taste the food?” She asked, focusing on him for a few moments.

“I’d never miss an excuse to eat it outside of meals.” He ruffled her hair, making her wrinkle her nose. She turned towards you and Techno, grin softening to a smile as she curtseyed slightly. 

“I’m Nihachu, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” She greeted warmly. You couldn’t help but return the smile, almost relieved to see another woman among the boys you seemed constantly surrounded by.

“You too. It’s a blessing to have someone who isn’t a prince to deal with.”

“Hey!” Wilbur gasped in offense, echoed by Techno’s quiet ‘Heh?’ of confusion. Nihachu only laughed, covering her mouth with a hand.

“Come on, there’s lots to try and discuss. Everything can be mixed and matched, as well. We have plenty of time between now and the wedding to refine everything.” She motioned the three of you towards the table, pointing to various dishes and explaining them to you. Some of them were unbelievably good, and you made sure to point that out. She seemed pleased with the praise each time, making note to include whatever you praised into the catering.

As she pointed to one of the dishes, you noted the ring on her finger, piquing your interest. “Are you married?” You asked without much thought, motioning to the simple band. Nihachu glanced to the ring, cheeks reddening slightly.

“Oh-! No, not yet, at least. It’s a ring my girlfriend gave me to promise she only had good intentions,” She murmured in embarrassment. Wilbur laughed beside her, trying and failing to hide the fact. She pushed at him slightly, trying to bring the focus back to the food instead. 

After a couple of hours of tasting and discussing, it was finally finished. She seemed content with the feedback, promising she would make sure everything was perfect. She actually seemed quite ecstatic to have the job she did. She simply took the paper she made her notes on, running off towards the kitchens once more.

“Right, all that’s left is the dress. Eret is setting up in one of the spare rooms,” Wilbur informed, motioning towards the exit. “I’m going to help Nihachu clear this.” You looked on in amusement as Wilbur began picking up plates, finding it hilarious that a prince was taking care of dirty dishes. All the same, you didn’t say anything and left the room with Techno. He was quiet as he led you towards the spare rooms, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you need me to help with the dress?” He murmured, not exactly looking at you as he hovered outside the door. You blinked a little, processing the information. He didn’t want to help? Then you realized you were probably getting measurements taken, and who knew what else. Was he too embarrassed to help?

“I should be fine. Why don’t you go talk to your father about getting Tubbo a room here? Get him away from Schlatt,” you offered an alternative with a smile. A look of relief flooded his eyes, and he nodded.

“I’ll come get you in a while,” He informed, watching as you slid into the room. Eret smiled at you from where he was hovering over various fabrics, motioning you towards the middle of the room.

“I see everyone decided to abandon you,” he joked, picking up a strip of paper and walking towards you. All too familiar with the process that was about to happen, you lifted your arms. Eret took the paper, placing it against your arm and marking it.

“Wilbur decided to stick with Nihachu, and Techno really was trying to find a reason to not come in here,” You laughed, watching as Eret moved around, taking various measurements and marking them onto the strip he was using.

“That sounds like him. You send him off?” He leaned down, wrapping the strip around your waist snuggly.

“Told him to talk to his father about getting Tubbo one of the spare rooms in the castle, the boys mentioned it yesterday and I see why.”

“Schlatt is questionable at best. It would do Tubbo good to get away from him. I need to measure your legs,” He murmured, eyebrows furrowing. His cheeks painted pink, and he seemed to have only just realized what it entailed.

“It’s just measurements, Eret. It’s not scandalous,” you muttered reassuringly. You shifted the skirts of your dress as needed. Eret fell silent, seemingly embarrassed as he crouched in front of you to do the needed measurements on your legs. You tried your best to not laugh at how flustered he seemed, keeping any comments to yourself.

“Right, okay,” he cleared his throat, standing up and walking back towards the fabrics. You followed, peering over his shoulder. “Is this everything you were hoping for?”

“It’s… not, no. I never really planned to have a wedding with the prince of another kingdom, let alone one who was to become king. I thought I’d marry a noble in my own kingdom and live out my life there,” You explained. Eret picked up one of the white fabrics, holding it against your body and examining it. For what, exactly, you weren’t sure. Still, you let him do as he needed.

“That makes sense. Are you disappointed with this, though?” He seemed to want to talk, but you weren’t entirely against it. Not many people had cared to ask you how you felt about this whole thing. 

“No, not at all. It presents options I was never granted back home.” Eret held up a delicate lace, layering it over a fabric to hold against you.

“Good. Hopefully everything turns out as you want it to. I think that should be all now? There’s not too much to be done until the dress is actually made,” He murmured, setting the fabrics down.

“Perfect, just call on me whenever you need me to check in or anything.” You beamed, only glancing at the fabrics as he continued to shift through them. You truly trusted him on whatever he was deciding to make. Everyone here seemed competent enough, though it made you feel a little useless. You supposed all you could do truly was offer feedback, which they seemed content with. 

Techno was leaned against a wall outside the room, glancing up when you opened the door. You smiled at him, and he simply pushed off the wall, motioning towards where your rooms were. “Get changed, put on pants,” He said flatly, making you arch an eyebrow at him.

“What for, exactly?” You questioned, following him all the same.

“Unless you want to learn to fight in a dress.” He glanced at you, eyebrows raised in question. Your stomach flipped in excitement, and you desperately suppressed the urge to run to your room.

“I think pants would be better for that,” you laughed, nerves leaking through the sound. Finally, you were going to learn to fight. Next Chapter | >

[scriptaed]

cherry blossom avenue [teaser]

❀ genre: angst/fluff; arranged marriage!au; f2l!au;

❀ pairing: jin x reader; 

❀ length: ~20k;

❀ synopsis: college would’ve been unbearable if it weren’t for your wallowing sessions with your best friend jin over a shared “forever alone” woe, so it really was only a matter of time until the two of you sealed a shoddy promise to betroth the other at the age of 27. perhaps it was only a silly joke to you then, but you should’ve known better nonetheless; because when a wedding invitation arrives five years later down the road with his name signed next to another’s, feelings that were once buried begin to blossom once again.

❀ coming 1/19 at 7 P.M. PST;

❀ a/n: yes, i posted a teaser half a year ago but here’s a little snippet that i finally got around to writing!

POSTED AS OF 1/19

“Hey, I said I don’t plan on being forever alone.”

“Right, right,” you brush him off, “tell me that when you actually get a girlfriend—actually, tell me that when you find someone to marry who doesn’t run for their life just one month into your relationship.” 

“‘Marry?!’” he gawks at your demand. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and you’re talking about marriage?!”

“What?” you turn to face him, cheek resting in hand. “Didn’t you say the world would soon recognize your charms?”

“Hmph, well,” he says with a jutted lower lip, “definitely sooner than you.”

“Really?” you gape at his bold proclamation despite clearly being the one with the upperhand. “You really think you’re gonna get married before me?” 

Your best friend doesn’t even bother glancing at you before answering, “bet.”

“Okay, if you win, then I’ll eat the crust to your breads whenever you want. I’ll even throw in a bonus for you and spare your wife from having to see fetus photos of you in college,” you can only snicker at the lightbulb that goes off in his widened eyes. “And if I win, then you’ll have to eat my crust and delete all the ugly photos you have of me on your phone.”

“Sorry, can’t do. That would take me an eterni—”

“—shut up.” 

“Okay, fine, bet,” he cackles, straightening his back and stretching his arms out before him, “and what if neither of us ever get married?”

“Hm,” you purse your lips, “good point. Should we set a time cap to our bet? Ideally, if I want to have a stable job and income by 25, have children by 30, enjoy two or three years of marriage without kids, then…”

“Why do you have to have children by 30?” Jin frowns. “Why set all these unrealistic standards on yourself?” 

Putting a finger to hush his lips, you almost find yourself distracted by the plush texture of his lips. Quickly, you answer, “long story short: parents.”

“Ah,” he utters even as your fingers are pressed to his lips, “ditto.” 

“Let’s set the cap to 27,” you propose. “If neither of us get married by the age of 27, then we’ll just call off the bet. But damn—” the two of you simultaneously lean your chins into your palms “—that means we’re really gonna be a disappointment to our parents forever, huh?” 

A loud, heavy sigh escapes the both of you; and while you stay pouting into your hands, staring into the fresh green grass on the downside of the hill off in the distance, Jin props his hands back against the blanket and cranes his neck back to look off into the distant sky. You hadn’t noticed it until now, but for a devilishly dashing guy like Jin—broad shoulders, facial features that could only be gifted, and a prominent Adam’s apple, especially with his head rolled to the back like this—you have to admit his lonely status must have been much more of a choice to Jin than it is for you; because even for someone like you, his best friend who gets to stare at his profile for as long you desire in all its glory, you have yet to become desensitized to his dazzling visuals that is anything but normal.

As much as you hate to admit it, even now, with a clear blue sky, an array of warm pastry aroma, and a field of freshly cut grass, you can’t help but become enamored by the person before you. 

And when another sigh befalls his lips and the two of you have settled into a comfortable silence and a breeze passes by the both of you, rustling a dozen or so of the hovering cherry petals to grace the surrounding air, he speaks. 

“Let’s get married if we’re still single by then.” 

“...huh?”

“I said,” only his eyes move to peer down at you effortlessly, “if we both lose the bet, then let’s get married.”

Your eyes pop and you can only utter the few words that reach you, “to each other?” 

“No, to food,” he says sarcastically, grabbing a piece of his bread and stuffing your face with it when you continue to stare at him and he shuffles awkwardly in place. Looking away, he mumbles, “of course to each other, who else, dummy?”

“Uh….huh,” you blankly nod your head as a series of laughs are stifled by the bread. “Okay, and you’re being serious?”

He doesn’t look at you when he answers, “uhuh.”

“Pffft, and you’re saying you would keep that promise? That you would even remember this moment? We’re just gonna marry? Like that? And you’re assuming I’m just going to agree?”

“Hey,” he turns to frown at you, “why wouldn’t you agree? I’m offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

Munching down on the bread, you continue to play along in amusement, “really? And what exactly are you offering me? You know I have high standards right? I’m not just going to accept any proposal.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still single…” the boy deadpans, even as you glare at his remark, “...but, that’ll all change when you witness my proposal! Hear me out. First, I’ll cook every meal for you for the entire day.”

“You almost already do that except for breakfast.”

“Okay, but I’ll hone my skills by then. It’ll be even better than any restaurant we’ve ever been to.”

You raise a brow, “so you think food is the way to my heart?”  

“No offence, but yes, that’s why we’re friends,” he quips before continuing, “second, I’ll bring flowers to you at work. Everyone at your job will be burning with jealousy!”

“Because of your public display of affection, which we both clearly disdain?” 

“No, because they would think you have such a handsome boyfriend like me!” he wags his finger. “Plus, who doesn’t like a little PDA when they’re about to be proposed to?” 

“Okay, fair enough, but those are two promises you’re making for the proposal. A marriage is a lifetime commitment. Why would I want to marry you just for food and flowers?”

“Hmmm, even for someone like you, I’m surprised you have so many requirements,” Jin hums, tapping his finger on his chin. “How about this, I’ll make three more promises for our marriage.”

“Quit saying ‘our marriage,’ I keep shuddering at the thought of it,” you remark as you rub your arms. 

“Third promise, I won’t break your achey breaky heart,” he deliberately emphasizes each word in a fruitful attempt to send shivers down your spine. “Fourth promise, I’ll remember all of my promises.”

“Okay… and fifth?”

“I’ll keep all of my promises! And I’ll do it all right here at this spot. Our spot.”

“What? That’s dumb,” you giggle. “Just keep at four, then.”

“No,” he grabs the bagel in your hands and fills his mouth without a second of hesitation, “ish eashier to wememba fibe promishesh.”

“Right, right, right,” you nod, pressing your lips in a vain attempt to muffle your chuckles. “And what promises would you want me to make?”

“You?” he quirks a brow before shaking his head. “Nothing. You’re fine. I like you just the way you are.”

Huh. Has Jin always been this nice? Because you don’t quite recall ever feeling the heat of an oncoming blush of your cheeks or the bashful flutters that come with your best friend’s witty remarks. Maybe the topic of marriage has thrown you off today or maybe it’s the aftermath of a high having just graduated college and being thrusted into adulthood, but the stretched smile that adorns your lips is an undeniable fact that your confidence and spontaneity has reached its pinnacle.

Grinning, you lean across Jin’s lap to grab and unlock his phone to access the camera, “okay, wanna take a photo to commemorate this moment?”

“Gee, if you want a photo of me that bad, you could just ask me to send you a selfie, y’know—what the,” Jin starts to cackle when you raise the phone into the air and suddenly press your cheeks against his without warning. With a side-finger gun to frame his cheeks and chin, your best friend readies his pose as you wear a mischievous smile. “Hurry up and take the picture already, Y/N. My time is money.” 

“Hey Jin,” you call out to him with your eyes still fixated to the phone screen, as does his. 

The boy almost drags his words, “now what?”

“You’ve never had a girl kiss you on the cheeks before either, right?”

“What—”

—click.

“There,” you chirp jubilantly, grinning at the stunned look on his face, his eyes popping and his lips just slightly parted but failing to utter a single word as his hand grazes the spot on his cheeks where your lips had just touched, “now you have zero excuses to forget our promise!”

[thomotomo]

Through everything pt.2

A/N: Here’s the part 2 of my Nmajoon x male Reader story! I hope you will enjoy it! Shoutout to @ben-c0c​ who beta read this part and corrected all my shit  (*¯ ³¯*)♡

Words: 2.5k

CW // Talk about stalks and sasaengs

Part 1

Namjoon held your hand during the whole escalator trip and you tried to calm yourself down by singing some random song’s lyrics or trying to concentrate on the warm feeling of Namjoon’s hand holding yours but nothing seemed to do it and before you knew it you were at the desired floor.

As the doors opened you saw a muscular man was waiting for the doors to open, he was looking at his phone and looked up as the doors opened. Namjoon took the first step, still holding your hand and you had no choice but follow him.

“Manager-nim! Hello! Sejin meet (Y/N), (Y/N) this is Sejin our manager!”

You smiled at him, bowing a little bit.

“Nice to finally meet you! Namjoon talks quite often about you!”

“I can’t say the same but nice to meet you anyway!”, he put on a friendly smile, even though you could feel that he was tense and you could easily understand why. If you were going to proceed announcing your relationship the company could be in very deep shit. You pushed those thoughts away, concentrating on your boyfriend and his manager discussing.

“You’re going to meet the members and then we’ll go see the CEO and the PR so we can discuss this!”

“Fine by me! Even though I don’t have much choice.”

He laughed gently and you followed Namjoon and Sejin to where the other members were in a big room, discussing about anything and everything. You were quite intimidated when they all looked at you as you walked in the room. You flushed and put your head down, looking at your feet. You heard Sejin talking to the members, quickly explaining the situation to them and what was about to happen. The members stood up and came toward you, smiling warmly and you were standing there awkwardly.

“H-Hello… It’s nice to finally meet you”, you waved at them, trying not to avert your eyes from them.

“Hi! Nice to meet you! Namjoon talked so much about you!”, it was Jimin who talked first as he extended his hand towards you. You took it and smiled at him, you were happy they seemed to like you too. You were scared that they wouldn’t like you because you could cause the “downfall” of their group, but they seemed genuinely happy to meet you.

Each of the members went to shake your hands, as you grinned, feeling more at ease with each minute passing. All of you then moved, discussing with them stories about Namjoon or learning about each of your lives (both yours and the members’). You kept discussing until Sejin told you it was time for the meeting with the CEO and PR representatives.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to appear not too worried but Yoongi seemed to notice it and he came to give you a hug, surprising you.

“It’s going to be okay! I’m sure everything will go alright!”, he grinned at you, doing thumbs up too, making you laugh gently.

The other boy wished you good luck and tried to reassure you gently. Namjoon took your hand in his, smiling gently at you, tugging you to follow Sejin to the office where all the important representatives were waiting for you. After what seemed a walk through an endless corridor, Sejin knocked at a door and entered first then let both of you in.

Before stepping in, Namjoon kissed your cheeks, whispering a “love you” before entering the room. It was plain grey, with big cabinets filled with paper works, probably all the cases they had to “resolve” or hide from the public. In the middle of this oppressing place was a big desk where Lenzo Yoon sat, the CEO for business; you supposed that your relationship was business considering he was the one meeting both of you. Next to him 3 people were present, two women and a man who looked at you as you walked in.

You repressed a shudder, the atmosphere in this office was really negative and if it wasn’t for Namjoon, you would have run away. Lenzo greeted you in a professional manner and you did the same, smiling a bit. All the PR representatives presented themselves and you took a seat in front of them. The woman at his right was Kwak Joo-Ho, the man at her right was Park Yong-Nam and the other woman at the left of the CEO was Sohn Eunseo.

You were very antsy and probably appeared as a nervous wreck despite trying not to appear this way. You were sweating profusely, your shirt was sticking to your back and your hands were shaking, but you kept trying to calm yourself, thinking about good thoughts and fluffy memories with Namjoon.

“So, I’ve been made aware of why Namjoon had requested a meeting with me and the PR team. I guess you’re his boyfriend right?”, Lenzo Yoon spoke first, a serious look on his face.

“Y-Yes it’s me.” You croaked, your throat dry because of the stress.

“From what he told us, you’ve been dating for a good while, 7 years if I’m correct and that he wanted to announce your relationship to everyone and that you were absolutely sure about that.”

“That’s right sir.”, it was Namjoon’s turn to respond affirmatively.

“Alright. I’ll let Ms.Kwak Ho-Joo talk to you about our thoughts on it and how we could do that announcement.”, he moved his hand towards a woman with her hair put in a bun. She nodded and looked at you, opening a file.

“So, I’m sure Namjoon had talked to you about it already but the medias are going to want to know everything about you, they’ll search any kind of social medias where you are, know that sasaengs will look for you too, they’re going to invade your private space and probably follow you and try to get all of your personal info, like phone number, private email, workplace etc. We’re going to need you to not do any public declarations that could be detrimental to the group like their private information, so you’re going to have to sign a non-disclosing agreement to ensure that.”, she slid a paper across the table to you.

Truth to be told you were a bit hurt that they thought you would publicly release their info but you understood why they did that, after all they were often chased by sasaengs and some of them even already had their private information. You read the contract carefully, not wanting to miss any info and you took the pen that was slided to you and signed at the bottom of each page before giving everything back to Ho-Joo. She put the contract back inside the file and continued.

“About the press and the sasaengs, you might want to put your online account such as twitter and Instagram in private to avoid any hate comments that could arrive to you, and to stop them from maybe digging up some things that you aren’t comfortable with sharing publicly.” You nodded at that, it only made sense, after all you didn’t want to get a flood of hate, same for your friends and family.

“Also, to announce your relationship it won’t be a press conference but we’re going to do a lengthy post about your relationship and post it on all of the company’s social media. We’re going to have to redact it with both of you, even though we already have an idea of what to write we will need your approval for some things.”

You nodded as she explained that. You got a lot of information at once  but it was only fair, considering what could happen in the minutes or hours following the statement, you also didn’t want to reveal more than necessary about you. You were realistic, surely you would get a ton of hate, after all BTS was one of the biggest bands of its time so it was only obvious you’d get hated on, but you knew that some people would support you too and be understanding.

Park Young-Nam pulled out a computer, you guessed it was to redact the statement. You felt Namjoon’s hand on your thigh and you looked at him, a bit surprised, he smiled at you and you felt a boost of serotonin as you looked at his dimpled smile. He never stopped to make you feel at ease even in a nervous-wrecking situation as this one and you took his hand in yours and tangled your fingers together.

You stayed around an hour in the office, writing the lengthy statement about your relationship, then they recommended you not to leave the building already, not that you were planning to, considering the bomb you would have just dropped for the whole world to see, and other recommendations about how to act and react to hate.

After everything was said, they told you that they would publish the statement in roughly ten minutes and that both of you could go back with the other members. You bid them goodbye and Sejin accompanied you back to the apartment where the other members still were. You quickly went on your phone, being careful of privating all of your accounts just like they told you, you almost forgot about it but luckily you did it before it was too late.

You sat on the couch with a sigh, and so did Namjoon. Taehyung was looking at you a bit worried, your hands were visibly shaking and it didn’t seem to want to stop anytime soon. He went and brought you a glass of water, which you accepted and drank in one go.

“Do you feel a bit better?”

“Yes, t-thanks a lot.”

“It’s okay. Do you want to play to keep your mind off it?”

“Yes that would be awesome, please.”, he grinned at you and turned on the Xbox and gave you a controller.

“Do you like Overwatch?”

“I don’t play it as much as before but yes I really like it.”

“Great! Let’s play it then, does that work for you?”

“Absolutely! Though I’m not very good anymore.”, both of you chuckled and kept discussing about the game as he turned it on. Soon you were joined by Jin and Jungkook who discussed with you about the game and did a pretty good job at keeping your mind out of the current mess on social media.

Meanwhile RM observed the four of you and he felt his heart singing at the sight of you being in great terms with the other members, but he couldn’t help but be worried about all the mess the announcement was going to create, you weren’t used to all the attention, well a little bit considering your job as a tattoo artist you had to have a public social media, but not of this magnitude.

Yoongi shook him out of his thoughts, putting his hands on his shoulder.

“You okay Nam?”, he looked pretty worried about him, honestly he could understand.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m really scared for him. And for us too obviously.”

“You know, both of you overcame a lot of things. Not everyone could date an idol for so long even if he was one, you’re also still together even with the distance and the time zones. I wouldn’t worry much, as long as you communicate, nothing wrong should happen. And don’t worry about us either, we’re big boys. If they can’t accept you being happily in love well they don’t deserve you.”, Yoongi smiled at him, trying to cheer him up. Namjoon’s lips rose a bit as he nodded.

“You’re right. But I really can’t help it, some people are wild, I’m scared they find his address and go and harass him in his own country too.”, he sighed in frustration. He hated knowing that some people weren’t able to respect the boundaries of public figures, even his parents weren’t sometimes immune to being followed by horrible people who wanted dirt on him or them.

“I understand but honestly, I’m not worried. You’ll get your happy ending with him, I’m sure about it. Come on let’s try to keep our minds off that. You should be happy it’s a respectable fine man you got there”

“You’re acting like an old man Yoongi, I didn’t know you were 50 years old.”, Namjoon chuckled, gently hitting his bandmate’s shoulder.

Yoongi chuckled too and they both stayed here looking at the other members and (Y/N) bantering about which character was the best in Overwatch. He observed your face, as cliché as it was, you were laughing at something Jin had said and Namjoon could swore you were lighting up the whole room with that blinding smile.

At the same moment a mess was created on Twitter and on every other social media where BigHit had published the announcement of the relationship. Namjoon’s phone didn’t stop vibrating and so did the other member’s (they were all logged on the BTS’ official accounts so obviously people were trying to get answers here too) but they all ignored it, in favour of turning it silent.

Obviously their next promotions weren’t going to be quiet so they would like to enjoy some calm. You all had fun for a good while until it was noon. You decided to order food and Namjoon used this time to call his parents, telling them both of you would sleep in the dorm that night (probably for the better at the moment).

The eight of you ate the food, discussing, and you were engrossed in a conversation with Jungkook and Jimin about tattoos. You showed them the big ass tattoos you had on your legs and talked about the others you had on your torso and they showed theirs too.

All in all, you were having a pretty good time with the members, until the inevitable moment where everyone didn’t really know what to say anymore and were just chilling. You were used to checking your phone and you shakily reached for it, looking at all the notifications you got. It seemed that some people found your personal Instagram account really quick and you already had a ton of notifications by people requesting to follow you. You were even @/ by some of them in their publications, some hateful, some pretty wholesome.

Same went for your tattoo shop account, you got a lot of followers and an alarmingly quickly growing number of comments under your last tattoo picture. You sighed tiredly and decided not to deal with it right now and closed the application in favour of playing a game. Namjoon looked at you and put his arm around you and kissed your cheek a few times earning a “Ewww” from Yoongi, whose eyes were shining with mirth as he did that.

You stuck your tongue out to him and went back to cuddle into Namjoon’s side, trying to ignore the growing number of comments and requests. You could feel your anxiety growing and just like earlier, your back was sticking to your shirt and you wished the situation wouldn’t be as scary as it actually was.

____________

A/N: Hope you enoyed this part 2! Don’t hesitate to leave feedbacks and reblog! You can also support my writing on my Kofi ! Take care  (つ≧▽≦)つ

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking “answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--��--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). “Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask! 

 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[sodone-withlife]

icarus fell, and blood stained the ground

i'm back!! (but not really—the new school year literally starts in an hour and it will be back to my pathological dependence on academic validation. at least i can say i've technically published another fic before summer break ends)

anyway, here's the fic in response to part 1 of sumayyah's post. i published a companion poem for this some time ago. as per usual, i gave up on proofreading so hopefully any mistakes don't detract from the story. also, i hope the formatting and jumping back and forth between italics makes sense—let me know if it doesn't, though it might be easier to read on ao3 (it should go up on there by 4pm PST because school)

warnings: murder, major character death (may potentially be classified as suicide-by-proxy, depending on your interpretation), guns, canon typical violence, slight gore at the end, mentioned substances

word count: 1.9k words

The damned man thought of everything, Jessica thought as she scowled at the damned folder that sat innocuously on the large mahogany desk.

The desk that would soon be cleared, all traces of the previous owner gone.

She lifted a shaky hand and brushed it through her hair, shuddering at its greasy and unkempt state that hinted at the state she had been in recently. Weary to the bone, she forced herself to sit back up and grab her phone, dialing the number that was written on the sticky note placed on the inside cover of the folder. It didn’t surprise her to hear an unfamiliar female voice answer the phone with a “Ms. Brooks?”

He had thought of everything, after all.

Really, the only thing she was surprised at was the sheer extent of his connections—but thinking back to her phone calls with Haley back when he was still practicing law, the talks about extravagant offers from top corporations and firms, she really wasn’t surprised. Thus, it made sense that her call to the top law firm in the state would be answered within two dial tones and by someone who already knew who she was.

And within minutes of talking with the woman who introduced herself as Ms. Stevens, Jessica became even more aware of just how prepared her brother-in-law had been before he walked to his dea—

Not an in-law anymore—her brother. He had long since earned that designation, that spot in her broken family, no matter how much self-flagellation he put himself through in regards to her sister’s murder and no matter how much abuse her father hurled at him in the years before the man who once viewed him as a son succumbed to dementia.

Hours later, despite having already reached her limit twenty minutes into the call, she finally hung up the phone with only funeral arrangements as an immediate concern. Slowly, she stood up from the chair and mechanically made her way into the tiny bathroom that had once been a familiar sight, when her nephew was still a child—

She forced her mind away from that minefield; she wasn’t willing to spend another sleepless night thinking about what had gone down in the past month, what had happened a week ago in that apartment, what her nephew was doing and thinking in the cell that only seemed to become colder and crueler the more she thought about it.

How many prisons had he visited? How many interrogation rooms, holding cells, general population cells, max security cells, death row cells? Did he ever get used to it? Could he allow himself to get used to it, to forget that these people are also human no matter the crimes they’ve committed?

A careful hand fell onto Jessica’s shoulder, and she shuddered under the warmth that seeped into her body, a warmth that had been lacking from her life for a long time now. She turned to see Morgan staring back at her, concerned.

“You didn’t pick up your phone,” he explained neutrally, flicking his eyes towards her phone—and sure enough, there were ten missed calls, each from a member of the team. She looked back up but avoided his concerned gaze only to latch onto her reflection in the mirror and internally winced at her haggard appearance.

“Did you—“ she coughed, clearing her throat, “have you figured out what happened?” Morgan’s unspoken question about her well-being went unanswered, and she continued to avoid looking at him.

She watched the man shake his head through the mirror, unsurprised and once again cursing her brother for his incessant habit of playing his cards close to his chest, especially when it came to personal issues.

How else is—was—he one of the best at poker in the bureau, often even beating Reid?

“He hasn’t talked, either,” Morgan informed her quietly, saving her the pain of asking the question herself. “Forensics is still struggling to put together a cohesive picture. To be honest, I doubt we’ll ever find out what actually happened in that apartment.” He shook his head, frustrated at the man he considered his brother.

If either of them bothered to ask, they would have found that both were truthfully unsurprised at this outcome, given what they only recently learned about the factors and circumstances that led to it. The few established facts about this case in addition to speculation based on systematically organized notes left in an even more meticulously organized folder painted a clear enough picture of the events preceding the fall.

But it wasn’t really an accidental, flailing fall.

In all truthfulness, he didn’t fight it.

Icarus let himself fall to his death in an attempt to compensate for his hubris, to suffer the consequences of his mistakes, and it was both a cowardly attempt to escape the hellish burns caused by the boiling, melting wax and a selfless attempt to teach posterity to avoid ending up like him.

Jessica remembered the warmth of Morgan’s embrace when he ignored all protocol and took it upon himself to inform her of what had transpired in the past two months, regardless of the still-ongoing investigation. It didn’t do much to soothe the cold that had threatened to swallow her whole as she listened to the details in silent horror.

He had sat her down in her apartment, the one she had taken care of her ailing father in before he finally died and the one she couldn’t bear to move out of for all of the memories that had been formed inside—with her father on his good days, with her brother, with her nephew

“A week ago, we were invited by MPD to consult on a series of killings that happened over the course of a month. We had an eye on the situation since the second murder, and there were two more victims in the span of a week before we were finally called in,” he began quietly.

He had suspicions as to what was happening by the time the team was invited in on the case at the personal request of the MPD chief. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had come across this profile before, but there were simply too many puzzle pieces with matching edges for the connections to be brushed off as a coincidence.

“Based on the rate at which bodies were popping up, we anticipated another one within two days of us being called in, but the killer had gone suspiciously silent. We went through crime scenes, forensic reports, and things weren’t adding up.”

"It’s a local case and we’ve coordinated with MPD multiple times, they know the drill. I’d like to take a personal look as well, the brass has been all up in my business about this case given its proximity to the Hill."

That’s what he said to the team regarding him suddenly taking the initiative to go to the crime scenes despite his responsibilities—it had been a while since he last went out to crime scenes, often taking care of the office politics and coordinating the investigation back at whatever precinct or office the team had taken over.

“There were odd inconsistencies, missing pieces of evidence… There was evidence to show that the killer was an amateur, but ultimately the profile we ended up building was nowhere near as detailed as we hoped it could be—but it ultimately went a long way in helping us figure out what was really happening.”

Old case files going missing from his home office, growing interest in his job, sudden mood swings happening long after the worst of puberty, increased isolation, dropping grades…

Absentee fathers of Georgetown students being stabbed and shot to death as if the killer was unsure about what to do, an innocuous Jack-in-the-Box takeout bag sitting near the last three bodies…

Numerous signs, and yet it was the outwardly irrelevant piece of trash, perhaps a sign of the killer’s gluttony—a sick joke that only he could have recognized—that led him to put all of the horrifying pieces together. It’s been over a decade, and yet the memories of that damned day remained as clear as ever, dogging his every footstep. Nightmares in which the worst happens still often visit him in his sleep, sometimes even combined with the effects of Peter Lewis’s drug concoction, effects lingering even after all these years.

“Somehow, we completely missed the fact that he fit the victimology. Maybe it was because of his efforts to distract us… If we had put it together earlier we might have been able to figure it out much earlier, and maybe everything could have turned out differently.”

Only after intensive counseling and careful editing of his case reports was he allowed to continue in the bureau after Lewis and his targeted attacks, and yet he knew he was still being watched. It was with that thought in mind that he made a decision on how to handle the situation. Either way, his life would be irrevocably changed, and there would be casualties alongside him.

All he had to do was figure out how to minimize them.

“He never came in that morning; Reid was the first to notice the lights off in the office. We were headed towards his apartment complex as soon as we saw a cleared-out office with a retirement letter being the only thing left on the desk. All of the pictures, trinkets, law books, messy stacks of paperwork—gone.”

A retirement letter for formality's sake, one copy emailed directly to the director and one printed on his desk, to simplify some things for the bureau and to ensure that Jessica and his son get his pension should the worst happen. All of his decisions, meticulously recorded and justified, except for this last one to protect the team from the consequences of his choice. All of his notes, all of the claimed evidence, carefully stored in the file box he left next to the retirement letter back in the office. Favors accumulated since law school called in, contacts throughout the local justice system ready to step in and deal with the fallout.

All of this, an attempt to compensate for the mistakes he’s made over the years and his hubris, to protect the remnants of his family and the team.

Morgan couldn’t finish telling Jessica what had happened, voice somehow caught in his throat and refusing to cooperate. He simply shook his head, and she folded in on herself, the weight of the last week too much for her to hold up. Slowly, he pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back but not doing much more to soothe her.

This is a wound that wouldn’t ever heal.

The story ends like this:

Icarus burned, and Aaron Hotchner said nothing as the hand that held the gun against his temple shook with uncertainty. Everything he wanted to say was written—one might call him a coward, but writing had always been so much easier for him—and he knew that he would be the final casualty, that the killings would stop after tonight.

Icarus fell, and Aaron Hotchner was flung sideways, the unyielding bullet from his gun fired by his own son shredding the brain that thought had of everything but the emotional and psychological effects his final decision would have on his family and friends.

Daedalus grieved over his son’s crumpled form, and Jack Hotchner would be found with his father’s dead body in his shaking arms as he stared blankly at sights unseen to the team, who had come hours too late.

Blood stained the ground, seeping into the cracks and crevices of grasping fingers, and nothing would ever be the same.