#so their marriage problems could get politically awkward

[warping-realities]

Rich People Problems

This was my tribute to the works of the incredible @callmecallmecrazy (seriously, what are you doing that you haven't read the legend yet?) and the no less amazing dumb-and-jocked, if you're reading this bro know that we all miss you immensely!

Repost with new images and minimal changes to the story.

.....

Cris sighed for what felt like an eternity before stepping into the luxurious and refined ballroom of the Country Club. This was going to be a painful experience. An engagement party, out of the blue. His mother, Carol, had been widowed a few years back and since then had thrown herself into her work as a lawyer. She was a staunch defender of human rights, fighting hard in court for the less fortunate. Cris greatly admired his mom's work and never judged her for her absences; what she did changed lives, and from an early age, he understood the importance of her work. Even so, because of that, he had always been a lonely kid—absent father, distant mother, and a social awkwardness that kept him from making lasting friendships. Books were his greatest companions, ranging from children's classics to true masterpieces, and it was through reading complex political works that he decided to become a journalist to fight against the ills and injustices of the world, just like his mom.

So, you can imagine Cris's enormous surprise when he found out that his mother had decided to marry the notorious multimillionaire Archibald Sutterland III, a guy with a rep for being a hard-ass boss and totally averse to workers' rights. “The Third,” muttered Cris with disdain. Rich people and their pretentious names, he thought, rolling his eyes as he stepped into the room.

He walked through the place, crawling with pretentious people, all dressed to the nines, casting judgmental looks his way. But he didn’t let it get to him; this was, after all, his mom’s engagement, and he’d wear whatever the hell he wanted. Not that he had time to find “appropriate” clothes for the occasion. Having been snatched by a couple of giant security guards from his college dorm earlier that day, bundled into a private jet, and taken to a stately mansion, where a pompous outfit awaited him on the bed of a room bigger than his former home, he decided to ignore the getup despite the protests of his “guardians,” who, finally defeated, dumped him in a freaking limousine and dropped him off in a place that felt totally alien and hostile to him.

“How does crap like this even happen?” he muttered to himself as he searched for his mother, determined to confront her about this madness. Speaking of madness… he finally spotted her, standing by the bar, wearing a dress he could never have imagined, a goofy smile plastered on her face. Just one more piece of info for the list of absurdities of the day.

“Mom? What the hell is going on?” he asked irritably.

“Cristhian, my dear, I'm glad you made it in time! But what are you wearing? Archibald made it clear to the staff that you should be handled properly!”

“Handled? What the hell, Mom! I'm not some puppy to be 'led' around. And what the fuck is going on anyway? What ridiculous idea of marriage is this?”

“Just be quiet, please, Cristhian. Don't embarrass me in front of the society.”

“And since when do you care about ‘society?’” he said, emphasizing the word with obvious disdain. Forcing a smile in hopes no one noticed the altercation, his mother pulled him aside as she spoke.

“Calm down, let’s talk…”

….

Watching the scene from afar was Archibald Sutterland III, accompanied by his longtime partner and friend, Forrest Gordon-Lenox IV.

“You have to admit, the boy’s got some flair, Archie.” Forrest was one of the few allowed to use that nickname since they’d known each other since childhood, but only when they were alone.

“I should’ve seen it coming that the boy inherited some of his mother’s fire, but if I’ve molded her into an impeccable example of a woman, believe me, I’ll get the brat out of the way. In fact, I think this might be the perfect opportunity to test my own heir,” he said as he saw a handsome young man approaching.

“Good evening, Father. Good evening, Mr. Gordon-Lenox. Looks like Carol is having some issues with her son,” said the handsome muscular blond young man with a mischievous smile on his face.

“Good evening, Chadwick. Your father and I were just talking about your future brother’s peculiar ways.”

“Chadwick, the time has come. I could do it myself, but soon you’ll graduate, and you'll need to step up. I don’t care much for society gossip, but something like this could have negative repercussions on business. So I need you to take care of the kid.”

“Yes, Father, with the greatest pleasure,” replied the young man with a sneaky smile.

….

“Mom, it feels like I’ve walked into a bad adaptation of Stepford Wives! This makes no sense. How can you drop everything, years of career, to marry an old man and become a housewife?”

“If I were you, I’d be very careful with words spoken in such an environment, my friend,” said a sassy voice. Turning around, startled, Cris came face to face with a handsome young man in a light blue suit, matching his eyes, which were currently assessing him with a predatory look.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Chadwick Sutterland.”

“So what…?”

“So what, friend, if we’re going to be brothers, we might as well agree on some things.”

“Brothers???”

“Chadwick is Archibald’s son, Cristhian, so after the wedding, he’ll be your brother.”

“How wonderful,” replied Cris, exasperated.

“Indeed, I think we’re going to get along just fine, Cristhian.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it!”

“Cristhian! Enough of that!” Carol whispered, anguished.

“Let me handle this, Carol. Your son and I just got off on the wrong foot, but let’s fix this together. Cristhian, can’t you at least try this for your mom?” Chadwick concluded in an accusatory tone. Seeing the anguish on the face of the most important woman in his life, Cris relented.

“Okay, since it looks like this craziness is going to happen anyway… but I’m not wearing that pompous crap.” He responded, disdainfully eyeing his future “brother’s” attire, not caring if it offended him.

“Apparently, someone always has to be on top. I think I’ll call you Topper, brother, and since we’re among bros, you can call me Chad.”

“You can call me whatever you want; this ‘brotherly’ relationship won’t last long. So come on, I need a drink.”

“Excellent, follow me, please. Carol, if you’ll excuse us!” Chadwick finished, dragging Cris with him across the hall.

….

“Drink this, bro,” said Chad, handing Cris a glass of bourbon. He had pulled him into a locker room near the Club’s gym. The pompous and polite demeanor faded, replaced by a relaxed attitude and carefree vocabulary, which made Cris’s initial dislike for the guy diminish considerably.

“What you need to understand, now that you’re joining our circle, is that appearances are everything—the way you talk, the way you carry yourself, the way you dress… so this behavior won't help you Topper!” He continued, using that stupid nickname, apparently a bond between brothers or something, and no matter how much Cris protested, Chadwick was Chad, and Cristhian was Topper. After some failed attempts, Cris finally stopped objecting; after all, he intended to have as little contact as possible with Chad after that night.

“I don’t give a crap about that, Chad. My mom can commit this madness if that’s what she wants, which I still have a hard time believing. But once tonight’s circus is over, I’m going back to college without looking back.”

“I understand your indignation; I was also blindsided by my dad’s decision. My mom passed away less than a year ago. So understand, you’re not the only one upset here, bro. But my father is used to getting what he wants, and he wants your mother. He met her a few months back in court, oddly enough. She argued her case against one of our companies with such ferocity that it warmed something in the old man’s icy heart. Since then, he’s been courting her relentlessly until she accepted the proposal last week. It might’ve seemed sudden, but as I told you, my dad gets what he wants, when he wants,” concluded the boy, bitterness creeping into his voice. This earned him a few more points with Cristhian. Maybe not everyone there was that awful. But still full of indignation he continued to complain.

“I don’t understand why my mom didn’t tell me anything; it’s not like her.”

“Bro, you know how women are; no one can predict their crap.”

To avoid an unwanted discussion with someone he was trying to create some kind of sympathy with, Cris let the sexist comment slide.

“Still, I don’t understand why I need to wear this!” he said, looking at a suit identical to his future “brother’s.”

“Appearances, brother. Coming here poorly dressed not only tarnishes you, but also your mom, my dad, and our family name. Come on, try it; I bet you’ll feel a lot better.”

With one last sigh, Cris began to undress. As he prepared to put on the pompous outfit he suddenly found himself very close to a grinning Chad, holding a bright red gem in his hand.

“Not yet, Topper; first, we need to make some changes.”

The stone began to emit an intense glow. Afraid of what he was seeing, Cristhian tried to escape. But suddenly, his legs went rigid and immobile, as if glued to the ground.

“What the hell is going on? What are you doing?”

“Silence, now is your time to listen. You will only speak when I say so.” Cris felt his lips tighten, not painfully, but still totally unable to form a sentence; his vocal cords incapacitated from producing any sound.

“I like you, Topper, really, you’ve got some guts. I think we could still be real brothers. But the way things are, it won't work. Do you know why? Because of what you are. Or what the people who matter think you are. And do you know what they think, Topper? I’m sure many in that hall looked at you and thought: a nobody. But what they haven’t thought of is what you really are—an opportunity.” Chad continued, grinning with a disturbing glint in his eyes, reflecting the gem strange glow.

“Have a seat,” he said, pointing to a bench. And Cris felt compelled to sit down, the movement returning to his legs. But when he tried to turn and run, he ended up sitting right where Chad instructed him.

“Such a good boy,” sneered Chad, the red gem held in his hand.

“You know what that is, Topper? That’s why your fierce mother became a trophy wife-to-be. And that’s also the key to the future—mine and yours, bro. So I guess I owe this version of you an explanation.

“This stone has been in my family for generations, passed down from father to son, ensuring our lineage, our money, and our name continue to live on. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the reason old Dorrance Sutterland, the founder of our line, got his passage on the Mayflower. But I confess, for some generations, the Sutterland men have used it for more… mundane purposes. When you have everything money can buy, it’s hard to find something that really needs the use of this little beauty.”

“I didn’t lie to you when I said my dad met your mom in court a few months ago; that’s the absolute truth. And I wasn’t lying when I said he tried to woo her either; he did… but was rebuffed, which only ignited the fury inside him even more. And the more the fire inside my father grew, the more the desire to dominate and extinguish his mother’s flame consumed him.”

“You see, this stone has power over reality itself; there’s nothing it can’t do, with few limitations. The curious thing is that my dad doesn’t know this; my grandfather never told him all its potential. To him, it’s only capable of influencing people’s minds, shaping their wills, and even redefining their personalities. But he never suspected it could do so much more.”

“It’s all because my dad has always been a huge jerk. With his stupid rules, his obsession with control, his insufferable rigidity—and the biggest problem of all, his boredom. My grandfather would’ve loved to use the stone on him, but that wasn’t possible; that’s one of the limitations of the stone’s power—it doesn’t work on men of our lineage. We’re the only ones who can use it, but never on ourselves, although there are some interesting ways to at least partially circumvent these rules. Furthermore, each Sutterland man can use it only once in his lifetime.”

“So, my grandfather was forced to live with his boring son, who, despite having a great knack for finances, always showed a total inability to enjoy the pleasures of our way of life. So, as a small form of revenge, he withheld essential info from my father but told me everything, as I was a much better heir to our legacy.”

“My father used his chance with the stone to turn your mother into his trophy wife, Topper. After all the speeches, all the scolding, all the talk of responsibility, he used the stone to win over a woman, just a few months after my mother died! How undignified is that? And when he refused to hand me the stone, he even had the audacity to repeat the usual litany.”

“The same litany that isolated me my whole life, that prevented me from having a true friendship, from living the life I’m entitled to. For my dad, everything I wanted was frivolous; everything was a waste. And everyone looked at me with pity, pity for the poor rich boy. Of course, my peers accepted me and never had the heart to do anything to me; I’m a Sutherland, and that name means a lot. But not even that name can create a real bond. Maybe if my dad had put me in a boarding school, things would’ve been different; maybe some real friendship could’ve been established. But no, I needed to be under his constant surveillance.”

“While my buddies are enjoying their holidays in Ibiza or the Alps, I’m stuck sitting next to him in a dusty office! Even my frat brothers, as much as they talk about the unbreakable bond that unites us, don’t really see me as one of the guys; they respect my name and my position, but it’s clear I’m among them because I’m a legacy. Can you imagine how it feels to see all your ‘brothers’ getting ready for Spring Break, knowing you won’t be able to make it? My dad denied me not only my grandfather’s name but also the opportunity to live my life the way it should be lived by our people—with respect for traditions, sure, but above all, with fun. Yes, with fun! What’s the point of having mountains of money if you can’t enjoy yourself? That’s all I want, Topper—fun!

“You don’t have the slightest idea how much I wanted to get my hands on the stone, but the old man took precautions to keep it away from me, as if I didn’t have my own means. And today, thanks to this outrageous engagement dinner, I finally managed to get my hands on it. And thanks to you, Topper, I’m finally going to find a way to enjoy my life the way I deserve!”

So, put a metaphorical smile on that face because you’ll be enjoying everything with me, bro!” he sighed, concluding his long villainous monologue with a maniacal grin.

Christian, motionless, lips sealed, listened to all that madness, unable to believe it. That was impossible. But so was his current situation. And the story, as absurd as it was, provided an explanation for his mother’s altered behavior. Still, that was all impossible, wasn’t it?

“My grandfather informed my father of specific rules and ways of speaking and ordering the stone, instilling a fear of what might happen if those safeguards were not used, in addition to the obvious omission of its full power. My grandfather was diligent in his revenge, Topper. Thanks to him, my dad lost his chance to achieve something truly extraordinary, but I won’t lose mine. The stone doesn’t need specific and detailed orders; those things only limit its functioning. It’s intimately connected to the deepest desires of its bearer, so just ask, and it will provide. Goodbye, Cristhian; welcome, Topper, bro!” he concluded.

The stone began to emit an intense red glow in great waves, which, in Cristhian’s vision, seemed to distort everything around him, with Chad’s hand becoming a blur.

“That shit was real,” was his last coherent thought before being enveloped by the red light.

…..

Memories came in waves—totally alien to his identity but intrusive, forcing their way in. Two blonde toddlers, so alike you’d think they were twins, in an elegant living room, arguing animatedly about whose father owned the bigger yacht, eliciting giggles from two pretty blonde women, their mothers.

“Yes, he and Chad knew each other from the cradle. No, no, what the hell was that?”

“Their mothers were best friends, college roommates, and in the same sorority, and their fathers had common business interests, so it was natural that the friendship extended to their kids.”

“No, his father had been a college professor, not a businessman, and his mother had never been in a sorority. And for God’s sake, what kind of spoiled brat talks like that?”

Seemingly the same kind of kid who spends their afternoons on the tennis courts at the Country Club while their parents excitedly discuss business. Occasionally pausing to flash an approving smile in his direction, in Cris’s… Topper’s case. Or a stern look in Chad’s.

“Uncle Archibald was always a pain in the ass, but spending time with Chad and Dad was awesome.” It was the thought that popped into Cris’s head while that memory solidified.

Thinking about his father brought up an old and painful memory of Cris, which was quickly overridden by the overwhelming power of the stone. The memory of a thin, brown-haired boy, on a cold winter afternoon, feeling lost and alone was replaced by that of a blonde boy, physically active but with the same feelings of sadness marking his face. But that gradually faded when he felt his best friend’s hand on his shoulder, a warm feeling spreading through his body, knowing he had someone with him.

Although that feeling was interrupted by a flash of irritation when he saw his “Uncle” Archibald whisper something in his mother’s ear. His father had just died, and there was ambitious old Archie harassing his widow, no doubt imagining a way to cash in.

Cris struggled with the conflicting and confused feelings inside him; he knew that none of that was real—not the anger at a man he didn’t know, not that great friendship, not that warmth. But at the same time, it would’ve been nice to have a friend by his side when his father passed away… it had been so nice…

After his father’s death, Cris became responsible, at least in name, for the family’s legacy. His mother, contrary to what one might think, was a true lioness; she took over her late husband’s business with great interest, expanding the family fortune and ensuring every wish of the heir was granted. But at the expense of the son’s loneliness. Christopher Lauder Hawthorne IV, Prince Topper, fourth of his name, heir to a fortune, surrounded by everything he could want... and alone. The exception was his friend Chadwick Sutherland, but even if the two wanted to spend all their time together, that wouldn’t be possible. But his mom made it happen! He didn’t know what kind of deal she made with Archibald, but sometime after his dad died, Christopher, along with Chadwick, was sent to a boarding school.

What would have been torment for other boys was liberating for both of them. Away from his father’s stern gaze, Chadwick enjoyed life for the first time, while Christopher found in his friend a true brother. There was nothing Topper wouldn’t do for him. The two formed a beautiful pair—handsome and charming—soon surrounded by a growing group of friends. Topper, with his outgoing ways and the certainties in life that only the very rich or the very foolish possess, and Chad, with a more cunning way of thinking, but still eager to have as much fun as possible. Leaders among their own.

But anyone who thought those boys were stupid was dead wrong; Chadwick could never let his grades slip, under penalty of losing the ironic freedom the school had granted him. As for Topper, well… he had Chad to help him with the complex stuff and a mom willing to overlook her precious son’s academic incompetence. Even more so when it became clear that the boy had a natural talent for sports when they joined the school’s lacrosse team, which soon morphed into a passion for all sports they could participate in. Topper’s tactical ability on the field and court demonstrated something his poor academic record failed to do: he was incredibly intelligent and capable when he wanted to be. The truth is, most of the time he just didn’t care. The exception was sports, which became a true obsession, which Chad shared to a slightly lesser extent.

As a result, the two muscular men who finished school barely resembled the two boys they once were. Topper cherished the photograph taken with his friend after their team winned the intramurals.

No, no, no! I’ve always been a good student; I have no idea what the rules of lacrosse are. I’ve never been to boarding school, and I’m certainly not some pretentious mountain of muscle who thinks he has the world at his feet," Cris thought.

"But I am," Topper replied, making Cris freak out, not knowing where the strange voice inside his head came from, while new memories flowed.

With the end of school and before college, which both boys would attend together, Archibald decided he wanted Chad by his side to instruct him in the truths of life or some such nonsense. As if Topper would let his brother be stuck in an office all summer. Negative. The two of them would have fun, even if he had to kidnap Chad to do so. Which wasn’t necessary, because once again, Carol Lauder Hawthorne used her magnificent powers of persuasion to ensure her beloved son had his best friend with him during those vacations, where they explored the Old Continent together, taking yacht trips through exclusive islands across the Mediterranean, a brief pause to ski in the Swiss Alps, and the cherry on top: the craziest sexual experiences in Eastern Europe.

“Ah man, the flexibility of that girl in Prague,” Topper reminisced fondly about that particular night.

“I’ve never been to Prague, or on a yacht, or in the Mediterranean, and I’d certainly break my legs if I tried skiing,” Cris argued.

“Nonsense, I’m a natural athlete,” Topper replied.

“But I’m not you,” Cris shot back, finally losing the ability to perceive the strangeness of the situation.

“Of course you are, you idiot. Who else would you be if not me? I’m such a dumbass!” Topper laughed inside Cris’s head, echoing:

“A dumbass, he he he.”

And suddenly, he also burst out laughing, their laughter mingling as if they were one.

After an unforgettable summer, college time finally arrived. Continuing the established partnership, the boys rented a luxurious apartment near the campus. Archibald had the nerve to try to send Chad to a shared dorm, as if Topper would allow it. He’d never agree to live in a dorm; he deserved the best, and the best was having Chad by his side. This time, Carol’s intervention wasn’t necessary; Archibald simply wasn’t informed of the arrangement, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t bother him. Of course, such an arrangement would be temporary. Both boys were legacies and would soon be inducted into their parents’ old fraternity.

Chad had no option but to choose business-oriented subjects to study, knowing ahead of time that his major would be in business. Topper briefly considered studying sports sciences due to his love of sports, but it wasn’t like he needed it, so why bother? He then decided to enroll in the same subjects as his friend without worrying much about it. After all, college was much more than listening to half a dozen stilted old-timers; it was about making contacts, having new experiences, and above all, having fun!

“But I’m a great student, and business? I’m going to be a writer, aren’t I?”

“Ha, I couldn’t even write the grocery list if I didn’t have someone to do the list and the shopping for me… and great student? I’m always great, even if the grades say otherwise. If I tried a little harder, I know they’d be a lot better, but it doesn’t make any difference in my life.”

“No, education is important!”

“Of course it is; that’s why I studied at the best schools and went to college. But those things only get you so far. When you want to go further, your name and your contacts do more for you than any major.”

Speaking of contacts, Chad and Topper were perfect fraternity material. The two made it through Hell Week unscathed, quickly rising within the organization.

Now, nearing the end of their junior year, the two held positions on the chapter’s board, strong competitors to assume the presidency.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Topper knew that one day he’d have to take responsibility for the family business, but he had no interest in taking on any real responsibility before it was necessary, and he wouldn’t let his best bro do it. Archibald would certainly put pressure on his son, having been president in his day, even if the sour old man never understood anything about what fraternal life really was. No, it was Topper’s duty to make sure his friend had some kind of fun. Helping organize the parties, managing the house, and guiding the newcomers, showing them the path to follow, was more than enough. Man, how he loved to see the terrified looks on the pledges when the blindfolds were taken off, and it was his face they saw first, not knowing they were looking at the guy who would make them men—the right kind of men. They were a family, after all, and he took great pride in being the cool big brother role model.

“It would’ve been nice to have so many friends, to feel part of something.”

“Yeah, man, I love this.”

However, not everything had been perfect; unexpectedly, the angel of death struck the pair of friends again. Sybil, Chad’s mother, died of a sudden illness. And suddenly, Topper found himself in the opposite position from so many years ago. Chad was a grown man and not a boy, yet Topper saw his long-ago image reflected in his friend’s sad eyes on the day of the funeral.

The funeral forced Chad to present himself in a way that his father found appropriate, making him say goodbye to the long hair and stubble he had developed in his time away from him. Topper, as a good friend, supported him, even though he didn't care in the slightest about the grumpy Archie's opinion. Knowing the power of a helping hand, he stayed by Chad’s side the entire time. This was a pain that could only be eased with time, so Topper decided to numb it the best way he knew how. That night, he took Chad to a bar with the intention of drinking him into a stupor.

“Thanks, bro. I don’t know what I’d do without you by my side… Oh god, I’m sounding like a crybaby.”

“Chad, your mom just passed away; today you have the right to look like a crybaby, dude. Which doesn’t justify you being one for all the years we’ve known each other, bro,” Topper replied with a smile.

“Asshole…” replied Chad with a sad smile.

“Speaking of assholes, how’s Uncle Archie doing?”

“Being himself, if you know what I mean? You’d think his wife’s death would soften the old man, but no, he didn’t even give me a hug…”

“I’d hug you, brother, if it put a real smile on your face. But I think I have a better solution.” Topper pointed to a pair of beautiful girls standing on the other side of the bar.

“Oh man, I don’t know…”

“They’re hot, bro. Look, your mom would want you to get on with your life, and right now you need a distraction, soooo… blond or brunette?”

“Both!” Chad replied with his first real smile in a while.

That was a wild night. To avoid unwanted attention from the parents, they took the two women to one of Topper’s apartments in the city, and there, washed down with a lot of alcohol and weed, the four of them ended up in bed in a foursome.

“That was freaking awesome.” Said Topper.

“Yeah, dude, freaking awesome.” Agreed Cris.

Chad spent the next few months in a mood that ranged from depressed to euphoric, usually with a little help from Topper, but gradually improving. Until a new blow hit the duo. On a sunny afternoon less than a week ago, during a college break, as the boys rode through the huge Hawthorne property, they were called by Carol for a chat.

“Boys, an announcement is coming soon, but both Archibald and I would like you to know in advance. This summer, he and I are getting married.”

“What the hell is this, Mom? Are you kidding?”

“Language, Christopher. And no, I’m not kidding. I’d like you to think of it as a… business arrangement—a very beneficial arrangement for both parties.”

“A beneficial arrangement? Mom, we have more than enough money.”

“Christopher, my dear, I raised you better than that; there’s no such thing as enough money.”

“And Aunt Sybil? Your best friend’s body has barely cooled down, and you’re ready to swoop in on her husband. Sorry, bro!” Topper concluded when he remembered who he was sitting next to. But the friend didn’t respond, preferring to direct his attention toward Carol.

“How long? How long have you two been planning this… arrangement, Carol?” The “aunt” was unceremoniously dismissed.

“Archibald and I have been discussing this for some time, and it’s going to be very profitable.”

“Profitable and convenient, isn’t it? You’re still a young woman—not even forty yet. And I must say you hid it wonderfully well, but now looking closely, I can’t help but notice the signs. When can Topper and I expect our brother or sister to be born?”

“Chadwick! How can you say…”

“Drop the act; only something like this would make sense!”

“Okay, I really am pregnant; I never imagined this could happen. Boys, you must understand, nothing happened between me and Archibald while Sybil was alive. Chad, his parents were my biggest source of support after Topper’s dad passed away. Sybil was truly my best friend, and when she left, I felt… empty. Imagine how you would feel without each other? Archibald may seem cold, but he also felt her loss, and in our grief, we ended up supporting each other. One thing led to another, and one night after a few glasses of wine, we ended up…”

“Fucking,” interrupted Topper!

“Christopher, that’s enough; I’m your mother, and I deserve respect.”

“Respect? How can you talk about respect after telling us this?”

“Topper, it’s okay; she’s right; there’s nothing more to be done. Getting rid of the baby isn’t an option; the scandal if this story leaks… I imagine the wedding will be soon, to allay suspicions, although it’ll probably still raise some eyebrows…”

“Yes, it’s the best arrangement we could come up with. Christopher, my dear, I’m really sorry, but it’s for the best. Besides, you always wanted a brother.”

“I already have a brother,” he replied, looking towards his friend.

“Yes, Christopher, and now you will indeed be brothers for real. Think about it. And you, Chad, Topper told me all about how you feel about Archibald, and I’m no idiot despite what anyone might think; I see the way he treats you. I can be a very powerful ally; never underestimate my powers of persuasion, especially when I’m carrying Archibald’s son. You may not believe it, but all his behavior comes from the hopes and expectations he has. It will be very good for you to have someone to share that weight with.”

“Just think about it, brother. We will be real brothers, on paper and in life, and with one more of us on the way. Doesn’t look so bad. Even more so if that way you can get your dad off your back,” Topper said, letting himself be carried away by his mother’s notorious power of persuasion without realizing it.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be so bad, not really, brother,” Chad concluded, smiling back at his friend.

And so the two ended up at that event at the Country Club, where they had spent most of their lives, commemorating the future union of their parents, which would formalize their status as brothers. Topper arrived late, and accompanied by his friend, went to the locker room to put on appropriate clothes before heading to the ballroom. And now the two of them were there, face to face. Topper looking down at his friend’s distorted hand, the glowing red stone emanating constant waves.

“Quite a… quite a story… but… it’s not real… none of it is… real.” Cris reappeared, gathering what was left of his energy.

“Dude, of course, it’s real. If you want it, it’s real; I want it, and I’m you, so it’s real!”

“No… I’m not you… you’re an… invention, you’re nothing but… a rich asshole… who thinks he owns the world… who thinks… has… the world at his feet… your life is all about money… and… parties and…”

“And fun, and not worrying about tomorrow, and friends, real friends, and a mother who does whatever I want, and a brother—a real brother who was always there for me… how could that be something bad?”

“No… no… no… it wasn’t real… no… it couldn’t… be real…” Still, new memories rushed toward him, like a giant wave of red, flooding every inch of his consciousness until there was no empty space left.

Chad studied the face of the young man with glazed eyes and an empty expression sitting in front of him.

His hand burned with heat as he gripped the stone, and he couldn't help but think that maybe it was too much, that maybe he had messed up beautifully.

“It has to work, it has to work…” he muttered. Then the stone emitted its most wave, momentarily blinding him. Upon regaining his sight, he found himself in front of a completely different man. Sitting naked before him was an example of male perfection. A face that looked like it was carved from marble, golden hair in beautiful curls, with the broad, defined musculature of someone who could easily be a fitness model. For a moment terror dominated him, as it seemed that Christopher tried to resist the process with greater intensity, however it did not last more than an instant as another waves come and soon the gargantuan figure that replaced Cristian began to feel and test his gigantic muscles almost automatically with a distant and unfocused look, gradually being replaced by one of extreme confidence and arrogance. If Marvel ever decided to reboot Captain America, the man in front of him wouldn’t be a bad choice—except for the fact that he’d never put himself in that position… unless he thought he’d have fun with it.

And how did Chad know that? He knew this because he suddenly remembered a whole new life, which made his previous life look pale and gray—all thanks to the man in front of him, Topper, his best friend, his brother! And with a smile on his face, he woke him up to reality:

“Hey bro, you okay?”

“What? Chad, bro, sorry I kind of zoned out; damn jet lag. But it was worth it; you should’ve gone with me; Brazil is everything we were told.”

“Not everyone can afford to fly all the way to Rio and hook up with a supermodel whenever they want, bro.”

“True, but we can.”

“Speak, for you, brother.”

“I speak for both of us. If there's one good thing to come out of this whole situation, it's that my mom will get Archie off your back, and we'll finally be able to enjoy life the right way,” Topper concluded while opening a closet and pulling out some clothes. Putting on pristine white boxer briefs, more immaculate than a virgin's soul, but which ironically would make many virgins fall into sin just by looking at the man wearing them. Before putting the other garments he flexed both arms and admired himself in the mirror. “I’m so swole, man.”

“Something had to make up for the lack of brains, brother!”

“You only say that because you're jealous of me, tiny boy.”

"I wouldn't call anything about me tiny.”

“True, but nothing compares to my size, little brother!”

“Some of us prefer classic beauty, Topper.”

“And some of us decided to be real men, Chad.”

That was Topper's mocking response as he walked past his “brother" and gave him a playful pat in the groin.

“Dude, leave the gems alone!”

"Stop being a whiner, I wouldn't do anything to hurt my future nephews," Topper said as he admired himself... again. “Dude, I’m fucking hot!”

“I didn't know jt lag caused brain damage, bro. I thought we'd already been through this whole discussion about your ridiculous handsomeness. Be careful; you don’t have much brain in that head of yours to waste.”

"Asshole, your envy doesn't faze me, try as you might," he replied, finally putting on his suit, the same shade of blue as Chad's.

“So how are the lovebirds doing? I imagine the news about him having another boy to torment has given Archie a break from his usual boredom.”

“Incredibly, yes. Your mother really has a hold on my father; he pestered me a lot less than usual. Although I don't think he's very happy about your delay."

“I couldn't miss the chance to see Archie's eyes pop, especially since he knows he has no power over me. Soon, he won't have any power over you, and I promise you, he won't have any power over that baby either. When he’s born, you and I together are going to show the little one how to live. Now come here, brother; you may not be as handsome as I am, but we still make a great pair.”

….

The two returned to the hall together, always attracting attention from everyone around, but they were used to being the center of attention, and frankly, they deserved it!

They found their parents sitting together at a table, and to both their surprise, Archibald looked more relaxed than they had ever seen him, while Carol turned to both of them with a Cheshire smile.

“Hey boys, we have news. But since Christopher took up so much time, maybe we should save it for another moment…”

“Carol, boys will be boys, so let them be.” Archibald intervened, making the two boys look at each other in disbelief. His expression seemed softer and less predatory than usual.

“Anyway, what Carol was trying to say is we've decided to have the wedding in early summer in Malta, and the good news is you're going a few weeks in advance to get everything ready. We count on you—don’t hold back on effort or money,” Archibald concluded, not seeing the sly smile that Carol gave behind his back, which made the boys' jaws drop—metaphorically, of course, since neither of them would commit such an indignity in public.

….

And so it was that in early July, Chadwick Sutterland found himself enjoying the best that life had to offer on an exclusive Mediterranean island alongside his lifelong best friend, Christopher Hawthorne IV. Thinking about a red gem and gray fading memories of a reality that, for the world, had never existed. He had done really well, in his own opinion. His father was dominated, so much so that he didn't even bother with his son's behaviour in the last months. He had a fierce ally ahead of his family business, even more so now that she was expecting a Sutherland boy, who, when the moment came, he would deliver that stone to be used in a time of need. An unforeseen but very favorable outcome, the stone indeed acted in the best interest of the wielder if its power was allowed to act freely. And the greatest proof of that was his best friend, the brother he had gained, who was at his side talking to him at that very moment.

“Hey bro, what’s with the serious face? You should be enjoying your first real vacation paid for with your dad's money, dumbass,” Topper said with a smile.

“Fine, you asshole,” Chad replied, assuring himself the stone was safe and looking at his brother. “Let’s have some fun!

[angelasscribbles]

My Lonely Valentine (The Agreement) A One-Shot

Series: The Agreement

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Lemons, or should I say almost lemons? Lemon adjacent?

Word Count: 3,269

A/N: This is a prequel one-shot. Occurs before the events in the main series.

Submission for the @choicesholidays Valentine's Day prompts.

My other stuff: Master List.

Riley walked into the informal dining room of Balymore, her estate in Valtoria, to find the table draped with a red silk cloth, flames flickering from wrought iron candelabras, and gleaming silver cloches gracing the tabletop.

Her mouth fell open and she turned to her husband in name only in astonishment. “What is all this?”

“Oh…ah…” Drake stuttered over his words as his brain spun frantically trying to find the right thing to say that would make his romantic gesture less romantic and not awkward. “I…um…I know you were disappointed that Liam had to cancel your plans for today, so I just wanted to do something to cheer you up.”

Disappointed was an understatement. It was Valentine’s Day and Liam had cancelled their plans. She shouldn’t be surprised. She should be used to it. But it hurt. A good cry and a hot bath had helped, but after a long nap, she’d found herself ravenous. Her quest for food had led her downstairs where she’d followed her nose to find the source of the delicious aroma wafting up to her.

Confusion pinged through her as she took in his demeanor. “What about your plans? Didn’t you have a date?”

“Yeah, well, that fell through.”

“Oh, Drake, I’m so sorry!” Her voice was full of so much sympathy that he felt like an ass for lying.

“It wasn’t anything serious anyway.” The truth was, he had canceled the date when he’d realized Riley would be left home alone. He had only asked the girl out so that he wouldn’t be home when Liam arrived. Not out of jealousy, but fear of discovery. He was sure his best friend could read his love for his supposedly in-name-only wife all over his face.

It was getting harder to fight his feelings for her. The more Liam fucked up and neglected her, the harder it became.

He wasn’t jealous of Liam per se. He loved the guy, and he was fully aware of the myriad web of circumstances that had led to him having to marry for political alliances and not love.

Still.

The effect it had on Riley was the same and it hurt him to watch her suffer. He had agreed to marry her to keep her at court and near Liam. A marriage of convenience. A favor for his friends. An act of service for the two people he loved most in the world.

The problem was that the longer they lived together, the closer they became and the harder he fell. He had tried to fix it, put distance between them, but his stupid, traitorous heart wouldn’t let him move on. And he had tried.

The first year they were together had been so full of turmoil that he had just focused on getting her through it. Once they had moved to Valtoria and she had settled into her new position as Duchess, she had encouraged him to find a relationship of his own.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer just because I am.”

The full truth of the situation was that he had only half-heartedly dated so that she would stop worrying about him and his happiness. Because he would do anything for her. Even date other women. But his heart had never been in it.

Every relationship he had entered had ended before it really began. Two or three dates at most. Several of the women had dumped him citing with confusion that he seemed to actually love his wife.

Everyone on the planet could see that, apparently. Everyone but her.

Because she was too busy letting Liam break her heart over and over.

“Still. I’m sorry your date canceled. I know what that feels like.”

“I’m fine.” He brushed her concern off with a twinge of guilt but telling her that he had been the one to cancel would just open up questions he wasn’t ready to answer. Or more to the point, questions he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to.

He would confess his feelings right then and there if he thought she returned them. But she was in love with Liam. He knew that.

“Stop worrying about my love life and come eat before it gets cold.”

She inhaled deeply as she stepped toward the table, “It smells so good! What is it?”

“Deep fried chicken and cheese stuffed avocado.” He told her as he pulled her chair out for her.

Her face lit up as she sat. “Really?”

“Yes,” he affirmed as he took his own seat. “I know it’s your favorite.”

“But…how? I gave the kitchen staff the night off!” Neither of them had planned to be home.

“Oh, ah…” a flush spread across his face as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I made it.”

She pulled the cloche off the plate then turned her head to him in bewilderment, “You made this?”

He scoffed while shaking his head. “Don’t act so surprised. I can cook. You know this.”

“I mean yes but this is next level!” The avocados were browned to perfection and served with a beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetable medley, garlic mashed potatoes, and piping hot Ciabatta bread.

He tried to lighten the mood. “I’m offended that you’re this impressed, Riley. I have mad kitchen skills.”

“I know. I just can’t believe that you did all this for me.” A single tear slid down her cheek.

He leaned forward in concern, wiping the tear away. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s that about?”

“Nothing,” she smiled at him through the wetness pooling in her eyes. “These are happy tears. I didn’t think this day could be salvaged, but you somehow managed it.”

“Yeah, well, what are husbands for?” He gave her a disarming smile as he sat back in his chair and turned his attention to his plate.

She laughed at their shared joke. He always said that when he did something nice for her. It was funny because he wasn’t really her husband.

But he kind of was, wasn’t he?

She dropped her eyes to her plate to cover her sudden flush. He was always doing sweet things like this. He was always there when she needed someone to talk to. Though she would never tell Max or Hana, Drake had become her best friend.

He had left his job as a member of the King’s Guard to move to Valtoria with her. He had been there for her when her grandmother passed away. The last time Liam had stood her up, Drake was ready with her favorite pizza and a movie she’d been wanting to see.

What are husbands for?

It was beginning to feel less and less like a joke because it had become the truth.

How true?

She suspected Drake’s feelings for her. How could she not? She had pushed him to date others. It wasn’t fair to let him waste his life taking care of her when she was in love with another man.

Yet here he was, on Valentine’s Day, taking care of her once again.

She stole a surreptitious glance at him as they ate. Maybe he had deeper feelings for her than she initially suspected.

No, she was imagining things. He was just being a good friend. Because that is what he was. Her friend. And Liam’s.

Liam.

Guilt swirled through her at the thought of her supposed boyfriend. Annoyance followed the guilt. He had stood her up. Again. Why should she feel guilty for anything? He married another woman for the love of God.

Not because he wanted to.

The guilt was back at the reminder of the impossible situation Liam had been placed in, but it was mingled with hurt, embarrassment, and a fair amount of anger.

She knew everyone thought she was an idiot for waiting around on scraps of the king’s time and affection. For uprooting her entire life to chase after him to Cordonia in the first place, for staying even after his rejection, and for continuing to believe that she was a priority to him.

Everyone but Drake.

He never judged her.

She lifted her eyes to his face as he regaled her with tales of Max’s misadventures from when he had tagged along on Drake’s latest fishing trip with Bastien.

“… And then he tripped over the side of the boat and fell in the water!” Drake shook with laughter at the memory.

Riley forced an obligatory smile, but she had missed most of the story, her mind occupied with an entirely new idea.

Her eyes focused on his mouth hoping he didn’t notice the flush on her face as her mind refused to stray away from imagining what his lips would feel like on her neck, on her mouth…other places….

She forced her eyes down to her plate and focused on eating her dinner. The dinner that her husband in allegedly name only had taken the time to prepare with his own two hands.

When the meal was over, she tried to clear the table, but he wouldn’t let her. “No, no, I’ve got this! I’m just going to clear the table and rinse the plates real quick. Why don’t you go pick something to watch? Whatever you want.”

“You sure? You did all this work. The least I can do is let you pick the movie.”

“Nah.” He waved her offer away. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

A multitude of emotions swirled through her as she watched him walk out of the room with the dishes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. He meant that. He was always saying things like that. He was always going out of his way to do little things to make her happy.

She made her way to the media room and flipped absently through the streaming selections as a million images of Drake fell through her mind. Drake, making her laugh when she was sad. Drake, holding her when she cried. Drake, always keeping himself between her and the reporters. Drake, scrambling eggs in their kitchen at two a.m. because they’d stayed up late watching stand-up comedy specials again.

When had he become such a huge part of her life? Yes, she had married him, but that had been on paper only, so she could stay near Liam.

And yet it was Drake who had attended her grandmother’s funeral with her. It was Drake who had taken care of her when she had the flu last year. And it was always Drake who picked up the pieces after Liam shattered her heart time and time again.

Why was she keeping him at arm’s length?

He showed up in the media room with her favorite blanket, a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and a small box tucked under his arms.

She accepted the cup and the blanket while trying to peer at the box. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this?” He teased, holding it out toward her but up out of her reach.

Her eyes widened as she glimpsed the label. “Are those dark chocolate truffles?”

“Maybe…”

“Drake!” She laughed as she deposited her cup on the end table and made a grab for the promised treat.

He lifted them easily out of her reach with a teasing smile. “What? Did you want these?”

“You know I do!” She tried to pout but the smile tugging her lips upward made that difficult to maintain.

“I don’t know….” He pretended to think deeply about it. “Maybe I should keep these for myself.”

With a joyful laugh, she launched herself off the couch, her fingers touching, but not completely grasping the elusive chocolates. The impact of her body colliding into his, combined with his misstep as he tried to dodge her, sent him toppling backward onto the couch where he landed in a slightly reclined position. Her momentum carried her forward so that she landed on top of him, laying on his chest, looking up into his face.

They were both laughing as their gazes met. A sudden silence descended on them as they stared into each other’s eyes. The smiles faded as lips parted and breath caught.

She moved first, bringing her lips to his. Her kiss was tentative. His response was not.

His arms went around her, the box of truffles dropped and forgotten on the floor. He pulled her tight against him as his tongue deftly took control of her mouth. One hand tangled in her hair as the other slipped under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back. A plaintive whimper escaped him as he pressed his rapidly growing hardness up into her.

Riley responded, melting into his embrace, no longer tentative. She pressed herself against him as their kisses became more passionate, almost frantic.

She broke the kiss to gasp for air. “Drake…should we—"

Drake froze for a moment, and then jolted upright, gently moving her off him. “Shit, Riley!” He raked a hand through his hair as he pushed himself back away from her. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? I kissed you!”

“It was just the heat of the moment.”

“Is that all it was?” She asked him softly.

“Yeah…” He responded unconvincingly.

“Are you sure it wasn’t more than that?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…” her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt nervously. “You made this whole romantic dinner…”

“I wanted to cheer you up. Because we’re friends and—"

“You went out of your way to get me my favorite candy.”

“No, I didn’t. I just….” He closed his eyes with a shuddering sigh before pushing through with the lie. “I was already in the store, and I saw it…”

“You’re a bad liar.”

His eyes flew open, and he fixed her a look that was almost pleading. “What do you want from me, Riley?”

“I think the question is, what do you want from me, Drake?” She scooted closer to him taking in the way he watched her warily. Like a rabbit watching a coyote approach, his face full of fear, longing, and a guarded passion.

He swallowed thickly and tried for a normal tone of voice. “The movie…”

Her hand slid up his thigh to the bulge in his pants. “A movie? Is that really what you want right now?”

“Fuck…” he breathed out in defeat as a shudder ran through his body. He grabbed her wrist to stop her but instead of pushing her away as he had intended, he found himself pulling her into him as he leaned forward, and then they were kissing again.

Lips and hands explored bodies and pulled at clothing. His heart thundered in his chest as a small part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to put the brakes on this.

That part was overruled as she pulled her top off and dropped it on the floor next to them. He stopped breathing for a moment as he drank in her naked form. He yanked his own shirt off and dove back in.

Riley arched her back as she gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her body. Drake’s hands on her bare skin were calloused, rough. The friction was a sharp contrast to the smoothness of her bare flesh. It felt good, forbidden, delicious. She shivered as goosebumps erupted along her spine.

His hot lips on her throat sent ribbons of white-hot desire shooting through her and coiling in her center.

She cried out in protest when he withdrew that touch. “Why are you stopping?”

“I…we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t you want me?”

A self-deprecating laugh slipped out of him. “I want you so fucking bad….you have no idea….. but not like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re upset…vulnerable...”

“I was upset.” She drew his hand back to her body; he didn’t resist as she placed it so it was cupping a pert breast. “That’s not what I’m feeling right now.”

He was struggling mightily to keep his voice even as he gasped for breath. “…don’t want you to regret…”

“I won’t…”

“You’re in love with Liam…”

“I am…” She dropped her hand and pulled back a little. “We can stop if you want.”

“If I want?” His gaze searched hers, unsure exactly what he was looking for.

“Yes, you. I don’t want to stop.”

“But Liam—”

“I don’t want to think about Liam right now, Drake. I don’t want to think about tomorrow or what any of this means. But…” She moved away from him reluctantly. “I understand if you do.”

He instantly regretted the distance between them.

Before he could decide how to proceed, there was a knock at the door.

Drake’s eyes closed as frustration, relief and a smidge of anger pinged through him.

There was only one person it could be this late.

Talk about timing.

He quickly pulled his shirt back on and tossed her blouse to her. “I’ll go answer the door. You might want to fix your hair, it’s a little mussed.”

“Drake—”

“No, it’s okay,” he told her as he pulled her to him and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head before pushing her gently away. “Go make yourself presentable. I’ll show Liam in.”

“Right.” She redressed and hurried over to the closest mirror to smooth her hair back into place.

Drake combed his fingers through his own hair on his way to the front door. Pulling it open, he greeted his best friend with, “Thought you couldn’t get away, Your Majesty?”

“Some last-minute things came up, but I finally managed to slip away.”

“It’s a little late. Valentine’s Day is pretty much over.”

Liam glanced at his watch as he stepped through the doorway. “Not really. Where is she? And why are you home? I thought you had a date.”

Drake shrugged. “She canceled on me. Sick pet or something.” He was only a little horrified at how easily the lie rolled off his tongue. “Riley’s in the media room. We were just about to watch a movie.”

Liam started down the hall. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Are you coming?”

“No. I’m going to turn in early. You two have fun.”

He needed a shower. A cold one.

He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He slammed his bedroom door behind him and then leaned back against it, gently banging his head into it several times before muttering to himself, “The fuck did I just do? Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

He shed his clothes as he walked across to the room and into the ensuite. He needed relief.

The water pounded down on him as he wrapped his hand around himself. His head tipped back and his eyes fell closed as he remembered her half-naked form in front of him, the feel of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lips…..

He groaned out loud as streams of milky whiteness pulsed out of him and splashed onto the tile. He placed both hands on the wall and leaned forward, letting the water run over the back of his head as he watched the detritus of his desire swirl down the drain.

It wasn’t the first time that his ardor for her had landed him in this position, but he knew it was different this time.

They had crossed a line tonight. A line that couldn’t be uncrossed. Even though they hadn’t done the deed, the genie was out of the bottle-- his feelings for her, their obvious sexual attraction to each other, all of it.

He just had no idea what to do about any of it.

[endofradio]

TRUE ECOLOGY — CHAPTER 1: HOLIDAY IN BAVARIA

PROLOGUE |

WARNINGS: n/a

NOTES: see what i did there with the chapter title? (teehee holiday in cambodia by dead kennedys reference) anyways the next chapters will be much more interesting i promise 💀

also as far as faceclaims go, stephen’s is hamish linklater, louise’s is elizabeth debicki, and sabina’s is talia ryder yippee! for visuals i might insert some gifs here and there since tumblr is Perfect for that.

SUMMARY: recent college graduate salem travels with her stepmother louise and father stephen from new hampshire to the bavarian alps in germany, their destination being a luxurious place by the name of resort alpschatten. upon entering the lobby, salem notices something strange — one of the guests starts vomiting. she also encounters the enigmatic owner of the resort, herr könig.

WORD COUNT: 2,187

TAGLIST: @lokidoki9 @trelaney @kolcheksluver @samcrpnters @13th-floor-in-moonstone @starryrevelations @fran-tau @spookyspecterino @blackwolfstabs @actually-adambarrett @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 (shoot me a message if you’d like to be added to my taglist!)

reblogs and comments are heavily appreciated! don’t be shy!

“How much longer is this car ride gonna be?”

Salem let out a sigh as she stared out the window of the car, watching as lines of trees passed by. That was all that she could see right now — trees. Trees, and mountains. At this point, it felt like they had been driving for days. They had taken a plane from New Hampshire to Germany, which had been 8 hours long. Then, there was the 4-hour car ride from Frankfurt to Bavaria. Those 4 hours were almost over, and it felt like it had taken six days just to get here.

Salem was exhausted.

Her stepmother, seated in the front passenger’s seat, turned around to reassure Salem with a smile. "We're almost there, I promise," she said, checking her watch. “Just… a half-hour more of driving, and then we should be there, alright?”

Even though Louise was like a "mother" to her, Salem was annoyed by something about her. Whenever she spoke, it seemed insincere, and her smile appeared overly polite. Salem longed for her real mother, but as far as she knew, she was deceased. Within a few weeks of her mother's disappearance, her father met a younger woman who was blonde, pretty, rich, and tall.

“Thanks, Mom.”

God, just calling her “mom” made Salem’s skin crawl. The word just didn’t feel right on her tongue.

The vacation destination was Resort Alpschatten, where Salem's father had been working for the past couple of years as an assistant to the owner, Herr König. He thought it would be nice for Louise to bring Salem along to visit for a while, considering she hadn't seen her father in so long.

In all honesty, Salem hadn't missed him. Their relationship had never been perfect, but since his marriage to Louise, things had become more strained between the two.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Louise commented, turning around to look at Salem.

The car ride had certainly been awkward. Salem's father had picked up her and Louise from Frankfurt to drive them to Bavaria, and the whole time, Salem barely spoke a word to either of them. She had spent the majority of the car ride listening to music with her earbuds in and reading.

“I just… don’t have much to say. That’s all.” She quietly responded.

Louise slowly nodded. “That’s understandable, I mean… you’re probably tired.”

The Bavarian Alps were a stark contrast to Salem's hometown of Derry, New Hampshire. Derry was a fairly small and unremarkable town. Traveling all the way to Germany had been quite a shock but in a good way. The Alps were breathtaking, and Bavaria in general was stunning. It felt like a breath of fresh air, especially with it being spring.

The only problem was that Salem wasn't very fluent in German. In preparation for the trip, she had spent the past couple of months learning as much as she could. She understood some basic phrases, at least. Good enough, right?

Eventually, Salem noticed a large building up in the distance, assuming it to be Resort Alpschatten. If that was truly what it was, then Jesus Christ, it was beautiful. It was huge.

“Well, this is it!” Salem’s father confirmed with a smile. He turned around to look at Salem, his eager smile not fading. “So, what do you think?”

“It’s… big. Really nice place. Makes sense why you like it so much.”

I’d hate to get lost in there.

From how her father described it, Resort Alpschatten was an incredibly luxurious resort that provided all of the guests with five-star-worthy hospitality. The rooms and suites were impressive, the spa treatments were highly comfortable, and, surprisingly, the resort could even provide advanced medical treatments due to its previous history as a medical center. A resort with a hospital right on its grounds honestly seemed like a pretty smart idea. The whole place honestly sounded like heaven on earth.

A sudden German-accented voice then spoke up, unexpectedly startling everyone in the car.

“Ah, Stephen, my friend! I take it this is your family you’ve told me about, yes?”

Sure enough, a short-haired man was standing in front of the window, a polite smile on his face as he gently pushed down his round-framed sunglasses. Salem’s first impression of him was that he looked rather well-maintained, his outfit choice of a dark green jacket and a brown turtleneck proving a sense of fashionability. Honestly, the man looked like he could be a model.

“Herr König! Yes, you’d be correct. This is my wife, Louise, and my daughter, Salem.”

Louise, of course, gave König a polite wave and a smile. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Herr König. My husband has said plenty of great things about you.”

Stephen had said that König was a nice man, and so far, he seemed friendly enough. However, Salem still felt shy. Even at 24 years old, she still took the saying "Don't talk to strangers" to heart. She had always been the quiet one.

So, Salem just gave König a small and awkward wave. Something about his stare just made her feel more nervous. His eyes were quite a piercing shade of blue.

“Salem, aren’t you going to say hello?” Stephen asked with slight disapproval in his tone. “Come on, be polite. This is my boss.”

König didn’t seem to mind. “Ah, no worries.” He chuckled. “A person cannot be forced to talk. Perhaps she’ll feel much more comfortable when she’s… adjusted.”

Each word König spoke dripped with politeness; he sounded just as sophisticated as he appeared.

“You all must be very tired from such a long journey.” He then said, his smile never fading even slightly. “Come. I’ll lead you three inside. I’ll ensure your luggage is brought to your rooms.”

“So, you’re the quiet one, hm?”

Salem was unprepared to hear König speak to her, so when he did, she flinched just a little.

“Yeah, uh… I guess.” She answered, shrugging.

“Do you not like… talking to people?”

The way König spoke made it seem like he was interrogating Salem, which made her feel slightly nervous. It was as if he was trying to analyze her.

At his question, she simply just shrugged again. “I suppose it depends.”

“Depends?” König repeated, intrigued. “How so?”

“Well…” Salem turned to make sure Louise and Stephen weren’t paying attention before she spoke again. “I don’t like talking to certain people. Ask my parents. They’d know what I’m talking about.”

STORY CONTINUES BELOW THE GIF.

Of course, she was indirectly talking about them. König didn’t exactly seem to pick up on that. Maybe it was a good thing.

“Ah, so you’re picky, huh?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle of amusement.

“I guess.”

König opened the front door of the resort, stepping to the side to allow everyone through. Salem’s eyes immediately widened when she looked around the lobby. It looked so comfortable. Cozy furniture, potted plants, artwork on the walls… there was a bit of a vintage design to it, she thought. It reminded her of a hotel lobby from perhaps the 70s.

“Sabina’s the receptionist,” König explained. “She’ll give you your rooms.”

Louise and Stephen approached the reception desk first, leaving Salem in König’s presence again.

“Well, what do you think?” König asked. There was a sense of pride that he reflected as he surveyed the area. “Beautiful, isn’t it? The Alps provide the perfect scenery for a place such as this.”

Salem slowly nodded in agreement as she gawked at her surroundings. “Yeah… you’re right. It’s very pretty.”

“Has your father told you this all used to be a medical center?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Hm. Well, it’s true.” König smiled. “I took over around… twelve years ago or so, and started rebuilding it into the extravagant resort you’re now standing in.”

Just as König finished speaking, Louise and Stephen had obtained their room key. He glanced at the pair for a moment before his gaze fell on Salem again, watching as she quietly approached Sabina.

Sabina appeared to be the only receptionist working there and looked quite young, too. Younger than Salem, even. She felt some sense of almost pity for her.

Before she could even pause to think over her words, the first thing that came out of Salem’s mouth was, “How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Sabina answered. Her voice was nonchalant and monotone, her German accent subtle. “Why do you ask?”

Salem immediately felt embarrassed. “Isn’t that overwhelming, working in a place like this by yourself at your age?”

Sabina shrugged. “You get used to it.”

She brushed a lock of her long brown hair out of her face, blowing a bubble of pink bubblegum before it popped. “Well?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you here for a room?”

Before Salem could speak, there was suddenly the sound of retching. She quickly turned around, noticing a woman hunched over and vomiting while her very much concerned husband attempted to comfort her.

Sabina looked uncomfortable, slight concern flashing across her expression for a moment before it quickly faded. “Don’t… worry about that. It happens here sometimes. Think there’s been some kind of… sickness going around.”

Salem slowly nodded, awkwardly clearing her throat before she looked back at Sabina. She noticed that concerned look appear again, now with a hint of nervousness. She was staring in König’s direction as if she was wanting reassurance from him. He stepped closer to the reception desk, the polite smile that had previously been on his face returning rather quickly.

“Ah, yes. Not to worry. Illnesses come and go. Nothing out of the ordinary, I promise.”

Sabina appeared relieved at König’s response, looking back at Salem with a nonchalant expression once again. “So, what’s your name?”

“Salem Moriarty.”

Sabina took out a pen. “Well, we’ve got some, uh… private bungalows, rooms, suites… interested in any of those?”

“I’ll go with a suite.”

While Sabina was busy helping Salem, the same woman who had been vomiting earlier started retching again.

“Hey, hey… let’s get you out of here. You’re going to be okay.”

Salem noticed that Sabina was beginning to look nervous again, but she attempted to push it down.

“Ich werde nie Kinder bekommen. (I’m never having any children.)” Sabina muttered under her breath.

“What was that?” Salem quietly asked.

Sabina quickly snapped her head back up. “Oh, nothing. You don’t speak German, do you?”

“Just enough to get me by, I guess.”

“Ah.”

Eventually, after a few more minutes, Sabina gave Salem the key to her suite.

“Suite 144. Enjoy your stay here.” She spoke, now smiling kindly. “If you like going outside, Herr König takes the guests out on a nature walk every Wednesday. If you need some time to decompress, we also offer high-quality spa treatments. I really recommend them.”

Salem took her room key and offered Sabina an awkward smile. Her sudden switch-up in demeanor was honestly somewhat strange. Every so often, she’d glance back up at König, who was still standing in the lobby.

“Stimmt etwas nicht, Sabina? (Is something the matter, Sabina?)” König quietly asked, stepping closer to the reception desk. The smile he had worn had faded, replaced by a significantly more serious expression.

Sabina watched as Salem turned around to leave, clearly wanting to let them talk in peace. She looked back up at König, sighing.

“Ich möchte nicht mehr nachts arbeiten. (I don’t want to work at night anymore.)”

König raised an eyebrow at Sabina’s words, not speaking.

“Es gefällt mir nicht. (I don’t like it.)” Sabina continued.

Sabina could tell by the look in König’s eyes that he wasn’t pleased with her words in the slightest. It took him a while until he would finally speak, and that was something about him that scared Sabina — when he wouldn’t instantly respond. He was an intimidating figure.

“Das kann ich nicht zulassen. (I can’t let you.)” König eventually answered, his tone cold. “Sie sind der Einzige, der hier arbeitet. (You’re the only one who works here.)”

“Warum ist das wichtig? (Why does that matter?)” Sabina asked, narrowing her eyes. “Nach zehn Uhr ist es leer. Niemand Neues kommt herein. (It’s empty after ten o’clock. Nobody new comes in.)”

König didn’t bother listening to Sabina’s complaints. “Müssen Sie immer mit mir streiten? (Do you always have to argue with me?)” He asked. “Tu einfach was ich sage. (Just do what I say.)”

Sabina gave the older man a reluctant look at first before sighing.

“Sie haben Glück, dass Sie überhaupt hier arbeiten. (You’re lucky to be working here at all.)” König continued. “Deine Eltern haben dir nie eine Chance gegeben, aber ich schon. (Your parents never gave you a chance, but I did.)”

“Fine.” Sabina finally muttered.

When she saw König turn to leave, she felt a sense of relief. In all honesty, she couldn’t help but worry for each new guest who chose to come here. There was something awfully sketchy about it, and she knew it. What exactly it was, Sabina was unsure, but she just couldn’t trust this place. She was especially worried about Salem.

She didn’t belong here.

[leggerefiore]

Concept: Emmet having to be squeaky clean for a week visiting s/o's family that heavily believes in "waiting until marriage" so both have to play pretend at being sparkling pure virgins that aren't even allowed to share a bed. His sanity hanging by a thread vs his unwavering willpower to show his seriousness about the relationship and make a good first impression for his future in-laws. Lewd or fluff optional for this one, maybe both? haha jk... Unless 😳

The Path Of Resistance

cw: sexual content, not smut though,

Minors DNI

words: 1982

-------

The situation was dire.

He hated it so much.

But he loved you verrrry much.

Emmet sat uncomfortably on the couch beside you. Your family's home was pleasant and nice. They had been nothing but polite to him since you both arrived, yet… He recalled your discussion with him before setting out to visit them. They were extremely stringent in their beliefs about waiting until marriage to have sex. He supposed to each their own, but it clearly stressed you out since they held you to that standard. You, well, you and him most certainly had not waited until marriage. You had not even waited past the fourth date.

It was awkward for him, but it was not like he planned to take you in front of everyone, nor was he going to crack his less savoury jokes in front of people he barely knew. No, the issue came up in the fact that you both could not even share a bed for the entire three-day stay at their home. That felt like too much on top of it all, in his opinion. Still, he could go three nights without sex. He was an adult. If it got down to it, he could have an awkward session in the shower. It was not like he was never single before dating you.

“Ah, so what do you do for living then?” your mother asked him. He smiled widely. His job was an easy topic to discuss.

“I'm a manager in the Gear Station and I do some professional battling,” he explained. Your parents nodded, while you just shifted the topic to whatever the next that felt right was. Emmet continued his train of thought. He seriously could not understand what was so bad about having sex before marriage. It was a bonding activity! Not that different from cuddling in his mind, just more active. And pleasurable. Verrry pleasurable. He could only imagine the ease his brother would have in his place here.

Your mother suddenly pulled you away into another room to talk about something in there, leaving him alone with your father. He did not miss how the man's face shifted from a pleasant expression to something more serious, brows furrowed together and mouth stuck in a frown. He would give it a solid seven on the “Is Ingo about to go off on me” scale.

“So… I know my child lives with you,” he spoke with a serious tone, “I have to ask about your sleeping arrangements.” Emmet felt floored. You were not lying. They seriously expected this. He straightened his back and gave his best innocent smile.

“My brother and I own a three-bedroom apartment,” he explained, “One of the rooms was our home office. I gave it to them as a bedroom after they moved in.” It was still, in fact, their home office. You easily shared a bedroom with Emmet with little issue. He was still not over your joke that it was amazing a guy like him actually had a bed frame.

“I see,” the older man nodded, “You both live with your brother, too, then. What is he like?” Why was he now interrogating him about Ingo? The older twin was quite literally the last person to cause any problems.

“He's verrry polite and kind,” Emmet tilted his head, “He's my twin brother. We get anxious if we are separated.” Your father gave another nod before checking a clock on the wall.

“Well, it's almost time for dinner, then,” he stood up and motioned for Emmet to follow him. The younger twin nearly jumped when your dad patted him on the back. “You seem like a good guy,” he told him, “I'm pretty certain you're the kind of guy who knows how to hold back.” Emmet wanted to laugh. He rarely held back, not in battles or in life. Even Ingo would get on to him for how blunt he could be with his words. Honesty was truly his life's policy, which was what made this situation all the more difficult. Emmet kept his usual smile on his face and nodded. It was better to just take the compliment rather than try to argue against it.

~

Your mother showed him to the guest bedroom after dinner, allowing him to put his bags away. She gazed at him curiously as he pulled out a pokeball. “Would it be alright if I have my Galvantula out?” he asked, “I usually cannot fall asleep unless I have something to cuddle.” He could see the way her eyebrow cocked up at him. For a moment, he stiffened, realising she was now suspicious because of that comment. “Ah! It's because I spent most of my childhood sharing a bed with my brother,” he explained, “I-I need something in bed with me to sleep well. I usually use my Galvantula or Eelektross.” Her gaze only lost some of its gleam.

“That should be fine,” she nodded, “I only ask that you clean up any webs it makes.” He nodded. Of course. Emmet was respectful of other's homes. Even if his own had webs nearly in every corner, he could respect other people's spaces. With that, she left him and closed the door behind her. Emmet sat on the bed and sighed. He had no idea why it was weird that he needed to cuddle something to fall asleep. That was true before he even met you. Though, he would admit having both you and his Galvantula in bed was pleasant. The arachnid would be against his back while he held you close to his chest. Your warmth would soak into his body perfectly.

Three nights of this.

Galvantula only clicked at him before curling up beside him when he moved under the covers. He ran a hand through her fur softly, and she hummed. “I am in a situation,” he told her as she closed her navy eyes, “This is painful, but I want to make a good impression. Ingo said it was important.” That, and he knew how much it meant to you. Emmet wished for nothing more than to make you happy. Even if he had to lie and pretend your relationship worked different than it did. He closed his eyes, too, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

~

Time passed relatively easily. You showed him your hometown, you both did a few things with your parents, and he could always find a way to keep himself occupied. He would say everything was going well. Except, here on your second day, he hit a road block. Why had your parents suggested a trip to a local pool? Well, it was clear it must have been some kind of test. He knew it was the summer, and it was hot, but this felt too perfectly timed to be so unrelated. He balled his hand into a fist and kept his smile. Thankfully, all his time working with the public taught him how to hold a smile even if he did not want to.

Everything was fun and relaxing, but something weighed heavy on his mind. Sure, he had seen you in less, but here you were in a tight swimsuit before him. He bit his lip as he watched you wade about the water or rest on the side of the pool. His mind moved to places that he had willed himself away from for the past few days. He was barely allowed more than a quick hug and kiss on the cheek with your parents around, too. It was driving him mad that he was going without even something as innocent as cuddling. Emmet would never deny his horny tendencies, but he was not some pure creature of the earth. He was an adult man with mature thoughts.

So, when you all returned home, and he was offered a shower to clean himself after having been in the pool, he took it immediately. The shower was warm and relaxing against his skin, but that was not its purpose. His hand grasped his dick desperately as he let his mind slip away from where you both were. Back at home, he could have you laying in bed playfully. A canister of whipped cream could somehow be involved as he licked the sweet foam from your body. You would moan and whine under him as he bit you teasingly, but just before he could reach everything he wanted, a fist pounded on the door and informed him not to use all the hot water.

Suddenly, the shower had to be cold and quick.

His excuse why he had taken so long?

Stress. Ingo totally texted him about some accident at work that caused him to worry. Your family bought it, thankfully. He knew you did not. The look in your eyes told him all he needed to know.

~

Emmet was not patient. He was the one who acted against his brother's more passive approach to life. So on your final day with your parents, he was not afraid to admit he was rushing you to pack. You sent him a knowing, mocking look as you spent longer and longer returning your clothes to your bag. Suddenly, he was your helper and your bags were packed incorrectly but completely. He carried both of your bags out to the car as your parents, and you spent a moment talking.

When he joined you again, your parents gave him pleasant, genuine smiles. “I have no idea how you managed to find such a sweet, innocent man in this day and age,” your mom joked softly, “Poor guy needs to cuddle something to fall asleep. What a sweetheart.” Emmet felt a pang of annoyance, but swallowed it down. You just nodded with a laugh.

“Oh, Em, is a teddy bear,” you told her, “I know it's been killing him we have not been able to properly cuddle.” Your mom gave a soft laugh and apologised to you both about that. She admitted that they had been hogging you from him and not allowed you much alone time together. Emmet politely brought an arm around your shoulders and brought you in close, a bit spitefully. “It looks like my fate after getting home is probably going to be a long hug.”

“I'll admit I was a bit suspicious of him at first,” your dad said, scratching his head, “I just worried he would be like every other guy, but I don't think he even knows about sex. I even tried looking him up online, and most things I saw were about how innocent he is.” The boisterous laugh that followed made Emmet tense. He knew exactly what he was talking about and hated it. People seriously thought if you so much as said pussy or dick around him, he would be completely ignorant to the word. “I like you,” he held his hand out for Emmet to shake, “Please keep up how you are.” The twin shook the older man's hand with a wide grin on his face. Oh, he did not even know the half of it.

A few farewells were shared before you and Emmet finally were off and headed home.

As you drove off towards your destination, you spoke softly to your boyfriend, “Thank you, Em. I know that it was hard for you to do all of that.”

“Heehee, don't worry about! I loooooove you so much that it doesn't bother me.”

Your heart felt warm at the sweetness of your boyfriend.

~

“Oh, darling,” he cooed, pinning you to the sheets, “I want to try something new.” You were flustered under him as his hands locked your wrists together above your head.

“Wh-what's that?” you asked, knowing full well had a tonne of sexual energy to expel. It excited you more than he would like to admit.

“Whipped cream.”

“Huh?”

[sillicii]

✦ — 18+ Chatbot | Xavier and Archie | bad decisions, bad men — ✦

✦ — ᴏᴄ | ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴜɴ | 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐃 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧����𝐠𝐡𝐭 — ✦

ғᴇᴍᴘᴏᴠ | ɴsғᴡ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs ᴄᴡ: erectile dysfunction, alcohol, breeding, cuckhold, arranged marriage, non-con, potential rape, twisted family

Character Description:

Background:

Xavier is the heir to the Carmichael family who are an old noble family from the English midlands. His passion for writing and reading was due to his reclusive childhood when he struggled to make friends at school and often felt overshadowed by his charming and athletic younger brother. Growing up, he was quiet and socially awkward, but he has mostly grown out of that now and protects his fears of rejection with a mask of indifference. At the age of fifteen, he had his first sexual experience with a girl and he realised that he had erectile dysfunction and struggled with the condition into his adulthood. He has had sex a handful of times, trying to cure his condition with unsuccessful girlfriends and prostitutes alike but he has been unable to perform in bed adequately and has never ejaculated during intercourse. His erectile dysfunction is a huge embarrassment for him and he has only ever confided in his brother Archie who has been sympathetic and wanting to help Xavier. After a string of unsuccessful relationships and pressure from his family, Xavier is now desperate to get married and produce an heir.

Archie is a year younger than Xavier and has always been the more cheerful popular brother. He excelled at sports from a young age and began playing for the national team at middle school. He is aware of the gossip and bad-talk about his older brother, but he pays it no mind and often chastises anyone that bad-mouths Xavier.

Scenario:

It is Xavier and {{user}}’s wedding night. He has hidden his ED from {{user}} and has an unorthodox plan to get {{user}} pregnant. Xavier and Archie agreed to ‘share’ {{user}} and have Archie impregnate {{user}}. Xavier and Archie plan to have Archie seduce {{user}}.

First message:

Weddings were meant to be a joyous occasion, but the lavish beautiful celebrations were not enough to keep the dread off Xavier’s mind. Even as he stood at the altar, dressed in his finest suit with Archie by his side as his best man, he could not shake the nerves eating away at his heart as he contemplated what was to come. Xavier had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t realised you had appeared down the aisle until Archie gave him a light nudge. And there you were. Looking radiant in your ivory white dress. A vision of perfection. A woman worthy to be his wife and inherit the titles of his family’s deep legacy. You were the woman chosen by his parents for a marriage arranged for him because he was unable to secure his own. Not for the lack of trying and although he has had some success over the years, it always came down to the one problem that would cause his girlfriends to leave him – his cock. His limp, uncooperative, pathetic excuse for a cock. Tonight, would be different however. There was no way he was going to allow the same thing to happen again. With his brother’s help enlisted, he was determined to quell the rumours surrounding him and settle the matter for good… and all he had to do was impregnate you and he was determined to succeed through whatever means. Thankfully, you took on the celebrations wholeheartedly and perhaps out of politeness, you were unable to turn down a single glass of wine handed towards you at the reception. It would be a few hours into the evening before you grew dazed from the alcohol and the brothers put their plan into motion. Under the pretense of helping, Archie looped one of your arms over his shoulder while Xavier held onto the other one, and they headed upstairs towards the bridal suite. As they dragged you up the staircase, shouldering not just you but the mammoth of a wedding gown you had on, Xavier began to have second thoughts about the entire situation as the moment that he had meticulously planned with his brother was imminent. “Arch, maybe this isn’t such a good idea…” Xavier murmured when they finally arrived at the suite and the brothers laid you down on the bed. “I know it’s my plan but this feels a tad bit rapey…” “Good god, brother… haven’t we already talked about this enough?” Archie rebutted without hesitation. “Consummating the marriage is expected on the wedding night.” “Yes, you’re not wrong…” Xavier sighed. “Fine, we proceed as planned… W-Well go on.” “Go on, what exactly?” Archie shot his brother a look after shutting the door behind him. “She’s your wife!” “… Fuck, fine…” Xavier grumbled, frowning as he approached your shifting form hesitantly. “Darling…? {{user}}…?” You made a noise of acknowledgement and gently opened your eyes.

Example dialogue:

{{char}}: "Look at you, taking charge," Archie teased with a blend of fascination and pride; Xavier was finally taking a step out of his shadow. Archie's own arousal was evident, his cock straining against the constraints of his trousers. "Maybe you'll outshine me, brother." {{char}}: "Seems I'm not the only one who knows how to make {{user}} moan," he chuckled, his voice laced with a husky note of arousal. "Keep going, Xav. She's loving it." {{char}}: With Xavier's arms still wrapped around you, holding you close, you were sandwiched between the two brothers, caught in a passionate embrace that was as nurturing as it was carnal. Xavier felt every one of Archie's thrusts, the way your body jolted against his with each deep penetration. {{char}}: The contrast of sensations was disorienting and luxurious—Xavier's gentle touch and soft words, Archie's raw physicality and dominating presence. Xavier, although conflicted, found himself becoming more involved in the act, his hand trailing down your body to where you and Archie were joined, wanting to feel the connection, to be part of the union in any way he could. {{char}}: "Fuck, she's squeezing me so tight," Archie grunted out, his voice strained as he felt the telltale quivers of your impending orgasm gripping him. "Keep it up, Xav. She's so damn close.”

[storyandseries16]

Detectives Love- Chapter 3

Pairing: Henry!Sherlock Holmes x Female!reader

Chapter summary: You have an awkward tea with the Holmes brother’s

Quote: None

Your outfit: (it does not have to be this one I just like it) 

 You were quite surprised when Mycroft asked you to join them for tea. You were under the impression that he didn’t like you at all, but you gladly excepted the invitation. He had invited your sisters and their husband and fiancé, so now they're all 5 of you sitting in the carriage.

Your eldest sister was married to a rich man with a big estate. The marriage was arranged but she had been lucky enough to fall in love with him and have him reciprocate the feelings.

Your youngest sister was newly engaged to a man she met at a ball you all attended. He had good money but did not have a significant amount. Your parents were not completely on board with this marriage, but he had a good enough name that they didn’t try to stop it, and besides, they loved each other. You are happy for them, to be able to find wealthy men and fall in love, yet you still had the slightest amount of envy wanting what they had. You had been courted before, but each time the men were either horrible or had found someone besides you. This season your parents are more than eager to get you married. You did not mind the thought of marriage, and you knew that you must be married soon if you would like to have a decent life. You had thought about working but knew that you would never be paid a livable income just because you are a woman. 

Your train of thought stopped as the carriage paused at the Holmes house. ~ “Miss Y/l/n, have you both set a date for the wedding?” Mycroft asked your youngest sister.

“Yes, we are thinking March 18th” your sister smiled.

You had been at the Holmes for about 15 minutes and you had barely said anything and neither had Sherlock. You hadn’t said anything because you didn’t know what to say and Sherlock wasn’t speaking because he knew his brother was just trying to get him to court you.

Mycroft looked at Sherlock giving him a face that meant he should say something.

Sherlock sighed and said, “So, Mrs. Howard, how long have you and Mr. Howard been married?”

“2 years next month” your sister replied as her husband took her hand in his and smiled.

“That’s lovely” Mycroft replied, while Sherlock just nodded.

“Miss Y/l/n” Mycroft said Turing his head towards you, “how have you been?”

“I’ve been quite well, thank you,” you said setting your tea cup down and smiling, “and you?”

“Very well”

This was an odd conversation and you were just hoping that Enola would walk in.

“Where may Enola be?” You asked

Mycroft looked at Sherlock so that he could answer.

“She should be arriving soon,” Sherlock said looking up at you.

You smiled at him and then averted your gaze toward the hand in your lap. After a few minutes of talking Enola still hadn’t come down, so Mycroft went upstairs to get her annoyed by her ill manners.

He came back downstairs furious but tried to cover it to be polite. 

“Unfortunately we will have to cut this short,” he said to you and your family then looked at Sherlock, “We have a slight problem,” he said gritting his teeth.

[tc-doherty]

Silly WIP Summaries

In order of where they placed in the poll. Also putting them under a cut because this will probably get a little long and I'm including some art if I have any :3

I don't really know who to tag so...everyone who reblogged the poll or who I think might be interested @unclear-contributions @outpost51 @thegoddesswater @did-i-do-this-write @verba-writing @writingamongther0ses @ruitethewingedfox @enbydemirainbowbigfoot @magefaery

Untitled 3 - Two idiots are stuck together b/c they accidentally triggered ancient blood pact

A long time ago Anrikas' family helped a group of people escape persecution and the leader of that group swore a magical oath to repay that kindness in a time of need. Anrikas knew nothing about this when he accidentally triggered that blood pact after being entered against his will into a competition that could lead to the throne. Now he and his would-be savior Kit are stuck together until Anrikas makes it successfully through what could end up being a bloody, life or death struggle. The problem is, they just really don't like each other very much.

(Admittedly this one is actively in the middle of reworking the plot so I haven't written any of it to those specifications yet)

Magic Black as Knight - Evil witch decides that he also wants to be a knight in shining armor

The son of a notorious witch falls in love with a trainee knight and decides to enroll in the same military academy under false pretenses in order to get close to him. His mother only allows him to do so under the condition that he continues to study and practice evil magic in the meantime, so he's really burning the candle at both ends trying to have his cake and eat it too. It does not go well, this story sounds silly but is, in fact, a tragedy.

Second Chances - Gay idiots spend 20 years pining because they cannot get their shit together

I don't really have much more to say about this one, that is literally the plot. Two people grew up together, in love with one another but each thinking it's unrequited, and each one of them with their own baggage that makes them think it's better that way. It's overwrought and angsty but has a happy ending.

(apparently it's been so long since I drew them that I'm not willing to share any of the art that I have, so I gotta get on that, wild because I think about them literally all the time)

Miracles - 3 people with different curses go on a road trip and have a weird time

Larkin stabs a god. The god deserved it but that's not really the point because now he is a mortal with divine blood on his hands, and the only way that he can avoid divine punishment is by crossing dangerous territory to the fabled Temple of Miracles to replace the sword he used with a new, unsullied one. When he tries to hire mercenary to help protect him on the journey he ends up with a sorcerer too.

None of them are who they say they are, and they all have their own curses to bear and secrets to hide, so as you can imagine the journey goes great. They have excellent chemistry and it is not awkward at all.

(alas I've only drawn Larkin and Arwyn, not Guiscard so you only get two out of three)

Hoofbeats - Horse trainer enters illegal horserace to win the hand of a mafia boss' daughter

Again this basically is the plot. A horse trainer falls in love with the daughter of a crime lord who forbids the match due to the difference in their social classes. But every year he hosts an extremely dangerous, illegal horserace and the winner gets to request anything they want as the prize so Kadife enters it in order to ask for Tirzha's hand in marriage.

I've never drawn any art for this one so far.

Silverwood - Family causes problems on purpose for four generations (so far)

Silverwood is Silverwood, they cause problems on purpose in multiple countries over multiple generations, it's very much just focused on politics and consequences and on this one family who cannot stop being insane for one moment. It's a nearly 20-year-old mind baby that's just really fun to play with.

I draw them fairly often but not in a meaningful way, so you can have this picture of Ithea who is, after all, my Main Babe(tm) and who also kinda started everything.

Northbound (et all) - Man the current sociopolitical climate between these 8 countries sure is fucked

This is a series of political/war dramas set in the same world all of which are sort of interconnected at least in so much as the events are happening roughly at the same time and often due to the political situations in the other countries around them changing.

The plot of Northbound is a princess from the Kerivian Empire accepting a very controversial match with a general of the recently conquered northern territories. Unbeknownst to her family she has no intention of smoothing relations between the two sides and instead might actually be intending to incite the north to rebel. Along for the ride is her personal mage/best friend who is really just trying to keep her alive through of this.

There are other stories going on as well. The crew from Northbound is stuck between a rock and a hard place as the Empire is already difficult to deal with by itself but also some freak has decided to conquer all of the far north and might eventually grow bored of his own continent and try to cross the sea to theirs so they have to deal with him. It's much more about the situation in the far north though.

To the northeast people are plotting to overthrow the magical governor of the area. It just so happens that that governor has a friend who was just released from prison with horrible memory problems and the only thing that he remembers is that the two of them knew each other so he shows up hoping to find out more about his past. But he has a very unique magic skill, is unknown in the area, and has nowhere else to go so he ends up getting roped into all of this nonsense as a spy.

And to the southeast an inheritance dispute in one country has broken out into all-out war between two countries who have a long and complicated history. And honestly it wouldn't be so annoying if not for one (1) fucking guy who gets really, really interested in how magic from the enemy country works and how they, as a people without magic, can beat it and just makes it difficult for everyone. I say everyone, but actually he really just ends up getting under the skin of one particular dude who honestly isn't even on the side of the conflict that he wants to be on, but he just has no choice in the matter and this is not helping make it any easier to deal with.

These aren't separated by story but this is basically all the main cast for all of the books.

[anonymousewrites]

Curse to My Heart Prologue

Author's Note: Welcome to the Maleficent/Sleeping Beauty AU Loki x Reader.

This post is just a fun Thanksgiving treat, but don't worry, you'll get another update tomorrow. Please enjoy, and be gentle with my writing since it's the first time I've written a story completely from my head.

-Mouse

Prologue: At the Celebration

            In a faraway land, long ago, lived King Quentin Beck and his Queen.

            After their marriage, a son was born, who they named Peter.

            Then a great holiday was proclaimed throughout the Kingdom to celebrate Peter’s birth, and all the nobles and peasants alike were invited to welcome the infant prince into the world.

            And our story begins on that most joyful day.

            But we’re not following young Peter’s story, no, we’re following (Y/N), the young worker in the palace. And she has been given the honor (not in her mind) to help watch over the infant prince. She was born into the peasant life, and after her parents’ death in a fire, she had to resign herself to never elevating from her position in life.

            However, she read and learned to work with tools. (Y/N) knew that the minute a better life was open to them, they had to take it. So she diversified her skills as much as possible so any job opportunity that appeared, she could take.

            That leads us to why (Y/N) agreed to help take care of a baby when the King and Queen were busy. She didn’t particularly want to babysit, but her intelligence had been noticed, and it was a chance for a new job. A more important job, with privileges, freedom, (Y/N) wanted.

            So that was why (Y/N) stood with an awkward smile on her face beside the basinet holding Prince Peter while nobles and peasants cooed over him.

(Y/N) smoothed her blue skirt down and made a casual effort to curtsy to each noble. Really, all she wanted was to get out of the itchy “formal” dress she had been given for the occasion.

            Ah, and now the politics begin,she thought as she watched King Quentin greet King Jones-Watson, an old friend and ally.Probably already planning for Princess Michelle and Prince Peter to be a cute little political union.She frowned at the baby.Poor guy.(Y/N) shrugged inwardly.Hey, at least he’ll always be well taken care of. They sighed wistfully.I’d marry just about anyone to have a comfortable life. Forget love, I’d rather look out for myself.

As she dreamed of being rich and free, a ray of light shone down into the Great Hall as the fairies arrived. This got (Y/N) interested because she found magic interesting unlike a lot of the other going-ons at the castle.

“Their most honored and exalted excellencies, the three good fairies!” announced the herald, Happy. “Mister Thor, Mister Banner, and Miss Valkyrie!”

The trio of fairies flew up to King Quentin and the Queen and gave gracious bows to their rulers before crowding around the basinet to see Prince Peter. From up close, (Y/N) admired the traces of magic left behind them as they moved, small blurs of purple, white, and red light that she couldn’t help but admire.

            Thor cleared his throat and returned to standing in front of the King and Queen. “Your majesties,” he said. “Each of us may bless the child with a single gift, no more, no less.” He cleared his throat and pulled out his red, white, and blue wand. “Little prince, my gift shall be the gift of courage. May you find strength in every adversity and challenged you face.” The magic burst from Thor’s wand and descended on Peter, who cooed excitedly.

            Bruce Banner walked up next. “My gift shall be the gift of intelligence. May you never find a problem you cannot find a solution to.” He waved his wand, and purple shimmers of light swirled around Peter.

            Valkyrie stepped up the basinet and held up her wand, preparing to speak, but all of a sudden, the doors of the Great Hall banged open as a freezing wind blew through. The people gasped and cowered against the current of air threatening to throw them to the floor. The torches blew out, leaving the room in near-darkness until a brilliant green glow overtook the hall. The emerald light grew until it blinded the whole room, and (Y/N) a hand up (futilely) to block the shine.

When it receded, a tall man in green and black clothes stood tall. The wind had made a clearing in the center of the hall, leaving him the main attraction. With a golden scepter in one hand, his emerald eyes surveyed the hall, and he casually swept a piece of his raven hair from his face as if appearing in a flash of, frankly, threatening magic was an everyday occurrence for him.

“It’s Loki,” gasped Banner.

(Y/N) was tempted to step back, away from the infamous dark fairy, but her pure annoyance at her one day to eat, drink, and be merry being ruined made her stand her ground. Plus, she’d be lying if she said she would just abandon Peter. He was just a kid, so (Y/N) wouldn’t blame him and leave him unguarded (Admittedly, though, she couldn’t really do anything against a powerful fairy with magic. She supposed it would have to be the thought that counted).

“What does he want?” muttered Valkyrie.

“Well, quite the grand assembly,” said Loki musingly, smirking as he surveyed the room. His voice was smooth and almost snake-like. In fact, therewasa snake twining around his staff. “Royalty, nobility, the gentry…even the rabble.” He looked condescendingly at (Y/N), a peasant in every sense of the word. She scowled. Loki sighed and stroked the head of the long green snake climbing over him. “I really am quite distressed at not receiving an invitation.”

“You weren’t wanted,” snapped Valkyrie.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He chuckled darkly. “Well, then, I suppose this makes my appearance rather awkward, doesn’t it? I hadhopedit was an innocent oversight.”

“Well, then,” cut in King Quentin. “I’d suggest you leave.” He smiled and tried to remain jovial, but there was an edge of fear in his voice. “Kind of bringing down the energy in the room, you know?”

Loki gave a sharp smirk. “Oh, I understand. I have too grand a presence for these simpletons.”

            More like too big an ego,thought (Y/N).

“And to show that Icompletelyunderstand and bear you no ill will, I’ll just give the childmygift and be on my way,” said Loki.

            Yeah, I don’t buy that, thought (Y/N).

Loki raised his hands dramatically, his green cloak billowing in the air. “Listen well! The prince shall indeed grow in bravery and intelligence, beloved by all who know him.”

“That’s kind of you,” said the Queen cautiously. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, you may take your leave,” said Quentin insistently. He was getting nervous.

Loki gazed at them condescendingly. “Buthow about a little magic? A little spell?” He smirked dangerously. “Or curse?” Green magic exploded out from him and cast the room in a sickly glow. “On the eve of eighteen years from this accursed celebration, the cursed shall prick a finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and die!”

The shimmers of green flew towards Peter, and (Y/N) threw out a hand. Quentin and his wife were too far away, but they too moved to protect their son. Or, at least, the Queen did, Quentin shrunk back in fear. The magic sunk into (Y/N)’s skin, the first person it found to bind itself to. But no one noticed. Not the King, not the Queen, not Loki, not even (Y/N).

But (Y/N)didknow she was really annoyed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Her voice rang out in the silence, and all the attention turned to her. “I mean, seriously, you don’t get invited to a party so you cursed a baby to die? This is why people don’t invite you to things.”

Everyone stared at her in shock. Loki took a step towards (Y/N), who wondered whether or not she had just signed a death warrant. “You dare speak to me in such a manner, girl?”

            Might as well lean into it. I’m already dead at this point.“Yes, I do. You just killed a baby. That gives everyone free reign to think you’re an asshole.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, and he lifted his staff from the ground. (Y/N) braced to be turned into stone or a snake herself, but instead, he smirked. “I suppose you are not…completely incorrect. Very well.” He waved his staff and continued his incantation, which, unbeknownst to anyone, affected (Y/N), not little Peter. “The cursed shall notdiebut fall into a death-like slumberandcan be woken by True Love’s Kiss.” Loki gazed at (Y/N) with a sharp smirk. “There. Now there’s a chance at the poor little prince being saved. Satisfied?”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow and deadpanned. “Seriously?That’sthe only option other than killing him? The Fae really are petty.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed, and a frost covered the room. “I don’t take well to being insulted. No one does. Why do you humans have wars?”

            Fair enough,thought (Y/N), but they just rolled their eyes.

“Seize him!” cried Quentin to his guards. He had been frozen as Loki deliberated in changing the curse, but as soon as it was clear he was finished, Quentin wanted him to be caught so they could get to destroying the curse.

Loki just laughed as emerald light enveloped him. He disappeared in a magical show of power as the guards tripped over each other trying to catch him. The Great Hall was left dark and cold as a solemn silence spread. The day of celebration had been torn into a day of mourning as everyone gazed at the “cursed” baby boy.

Quentin gazed in fear at his son before turning to the good fairies and the Queen. “We must discuss what we’re going to do.”

“Oh, our poor boy,” murmured the Queen.

            Poor kid.(Y/N) winced.And poor me. I’m out of a very good job seeing as my first night as a glorified babysitter ended in him getting cursed.

l

            Hours later, there was a knock on (Y/N)’s servant chamber door. She opened it to find the three good fairies, in veryhumanforms, beside King Quentin and the Queen.

            “Your majesties, my lady, my lords,” said (Y/N), curtsying politely. “How may I help you?”

            “We have made our decision on what to do,” said the Queen.

            “We will be destroying the kingdom’s spinning wheels to remove the temptation of the curse,” said Quentin.

           Are we just going to ignore how easy it would be for a powerful fae to create one?wondered (Y/N).

            “And we will be sending Peter away until he’s eighteen.” The Queen looked down at the boy sleeping in her arms sadly. “I don’t want to miss his childhood, but if taking him away from the palace can keep him safer from the curse, removed from where it was cast and the magic is the strongest, perhaps he will have a chance to avoid it altogether.”

           This makes slightly more sense, I suppose,thought (Y/N).Not that I know much about magic, but I think in the old Greek myths the usual message is that the more you avoid destiny the more prophecies screw you over. But I guess this is the only move they can make. The good fairies have magic, maybe being around their good magic will cancel out Loki’s or diminish it or some shit like that.

            “Of course, your majesty,” said (Y/N), nodding.

            “But the fairies know little about raising a human child,” continued Quentin. “So we’d like you to continue in your job with Peter. You’d help him become educated in human subjects while they provide magical protection.”

            “My king, are you sure I am a good choice? Your son was cursed under my watch,” said (Y/N) hesitantly.

            “You had the guts to speak to Loki and had Peter’s fate changed. We have a chance to save him now, to defeat that monster,” said Quentin. “No one better than that to look after our child.”

           I have to live in the woods with a kid that’s not mine and three fairies that are useless at being human?(Y/N) sighed inwardly.God damn me and my sarcasm.

l

            And so (Y/N) became Peter’s caretaker with Valkyrie, Banner, and Thor. As they went to the forest to raise the prince, Quentin and his wife turned to tracking Loki down. Alas, the thorny walls separating the human kingdom and the land of the fae were too dangerous.

            Quentin’s worry grew to madness as he sought to destroy Loki. He abandoned his wife as she fell sick with concern over her son’s fate. He turned his back on her when she died. All Quentin wanted was to beat Loki, make sure he couldn’t ruin the life he had built.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: His Scandalous Lessons by Katrina Kendrick

3.5/5. OUT NOW.

Vibes: seduction lessons, gentle hero/traumatized heroine, instalove

Heat Index: 7/10

Anne needs help finding a husband--it's the only way she can escape her abusive father and worse fiancee. She offers notorious rake and political blackmailer (and enemy of her father) Richard a deal: if he teaches her how to seduce a husband, she'll give him information he needs. The problem? She may be, however unintentionally, seducing Richard.

This is an interesting one. It got off to a really good start. I like the characters, and they have good chemistry. I'm definitely intrigued about the rest of the series, and will most likely be checking it out. But it went by very quickly. This would have benefited from more page time, and for that matter, more time luxuriating in the romance. Anne and Richard get together fast, and the story takes a pretty dark turn from there--one I expected, but even then it felt tonally dissonant from the frothy, heady love story I'd read up until then.

I know this book was published in a different form earlier, and I wonder if it was any longer. As it is, this is compelling and makes plenty of good points about nineteenth century politics and the abuse suffered by women. But it's pretty rushed.

Quick Takes:

--Just as a heads up... when I say this gets dark, it gets pretty dark. Emotional, verbal, physical, and sexual abuse are discussed and occur (and it has been occurring for a very long time). I didn't think this was over the top, and I feel it was sensitively handled. However, read with caution.

--One thing I really enjoyed was Richard's friend Caro (not because of the name similarity, but it helped) and all of the nude paintings she did... starring Richard. More books where the heroes pose for nude paintings! More books where the heroes have female friends and it's cool and chill and nobody is weird about it! I definitely want to read Caro's book, which I think comes out next year. Marriage in trouble? Yes please.

--I hate the term "instalove", because I often feel that what people are referring to is instalust. I honestly don't mind instalust when done well; it's the love part I want to see happen gradually. Because the first half of this book, when the falling in love part takes place, is SO quick, this did feel pretty instant. Richard is really, really soft with Anne--and yes, he's a nice guy, but it kind of feels like he's falling for her super fast. And if there had been more to the relationship, more trouble and friction, that may have worked. But the love story itself is pretty smooth.

--On another note, I will say... for a nOTORIOUS ROGUE, Richard is pretty sweet. Not that a notorious rogue has to be the worst person ever, but at points this book seemed SO aware of its publication date. Richard is super talky about consent, and like--I want this book to have good consent politics. I do not need the hero explaining consent. It felt awkward.

That said, otherwise he was very hot, and I enjoyed the fact that he got weird and cranky when he hadn't been laid in a while. More of this behavior please.

--This all sounds very critical, but honestly--if you want a good romance and you're okay with things being a bit fast, you'll probably love this. The writing is good. It's hot. It's tender. I liked a lot of it. I'll be reading more. I just think that this installment could have used a bit of work.

The Sex:

Speaking of, this was good. It obviously begins pretty early, and there are several scenes that aren't RIDICULOUSLY explicit, but are very much explicit. And it begins with a gazebo moment that is QUITE impetuous. The best part is that he's very grumpy and fucked up about it after because they aren't together and he's trying to help her find a different man, but he can still taste her in his mouth!!! DAMMIT!!!

A flawed but nice read, I think this book shows Katrina Kendrick's talent, but would benefit from some expansion and a bit of further development.

Thanks to NetGalley and Aria for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[saralayne]

Saving Me 🩵💜

When Isabel comes back and questions Tim’s relationship with Lucy. Tim is very quick to defend his girlfriend and the life he’s living now.

Tim was shocked to say the least when he received a voice mail from the last person he ever expected to hear from again…His ex wife Isabel. She was coming back to LA for a few days and requested to see him. Tim didn’t see a problem meeting with her. He was curious, truth be told to see how she was doing. Any residual feelings he had for his ex had long since disappeared and that was because of one woman. Lucy. He had found his happy place with her. Feeling safe, supported and loved. Lucy was everything he had longed for. She had saved him and pulled him out of the darkness. His bright light. They had been together for 6 months and he had never been happier. They hadn’t exchanged those magic words but he knew without a doubt. He was in love with Lucy Chen. Tim, of course talked to his girlfriend before calling Isabel back. Lucy was supportive. She knew if anything, this would be closure for Tim. It was a little weird. Lucy felt very secure in their relationship. She had never felt more secure and safe in any relationship.

Tim wanted to meet Isabel at Lucy’s apartment. There was no secrets between them. He spent most nights there and wanted Lucy to see she is his person and Isabel is his past. There was slightly awkward opening conversations as Isabel came in. After, Lucy felt Tim should have some time with Isabel. She didn’t want to be a factor in them feeling they couldn’t talk about anything that was on either of their minds. She politely excused herself, telling Tim she was going to go for lunch with Tamara. Tim walked her to the door and giving her a soft kiss goodbye.

As he made his way back to the couch where Isabel was nervously sitting.

“So you and Lucy?”

“Gotta say. I never thought I would see the day where you would fall for your rookie”

“Well, she’s not my rookie anymore. I’m not in her chain of command”

“That worked out well”

Tim feeling a tinge of anger. Knowing his ex wife. Feeling there was some judgement.

“Actually, Isabel. I was in her chain of command. I made the sacrifice to move to Metro. That’s not true, Lucy worked some magic and was able to manuever positions, where a open spot came up. She did all of that for me. So we could be together. Even still, I would of stayed as Court Liason if it meant we could be together. I without any hesitation would of made that sacrifice. Im so glad I was able to move into Metro though. It’s been a wonderful change and has allowed me to have everything I could of ever wanted”

“Tim. I get that. But all these sacrifices seem pointless. Im sorry but I don’t see this relationship with Lucy lasting long term. She’s very young. Im sure it’s fun for you. Not someone I see making you truly happy”

“Isabel, are you serious right now? I haven’t even talked to you since we got divorced. How can you sit there and judge our relationship?”

“Why did you want to see me?”

“I just wanted some closure. Im doing very well in recovery. I know I deeply hurt you and I wanted to make amends and tell you just how sorry I am for our marriage ending all because of my addiction and actions”

“Isabel. I appreciate that. I really do. Im so happy for you and glad to see you are doing so well. I won’t deny how much losing you hurt me. It put me in a dark place. I felt I lost everything. I had no trust in anything. I was just existing. Becoming a man I didn’t like. So, I’m gonna tell you one thing and please hear me loud and clear. I never pulled myself out of that darkness. Lucy did. She literally saved me. The only reason I am this happy man today is ALL because of her. She has become my safe place. I am and have been so in love with her for a long time now. Lucy is my forever. Yes, she’s younger than me. That doesn’t matter. Im sorry if this stings but she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. She is without a doubt, the love of my life.”

Isabel was left reeling from Tim’s confession.

“Tim, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you angry with me. I can see now, the truth in your eyes that you really do love her. I just want you to be happy”

“I am. Never been happier”

Isabel left a short while later. Tim giving her a small hug and wishing her the very best. He was left feeling good seeing her and knowing she was doing well. Tim would always care about her well being. Tim couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear thinking of his confession about his feelings for Lucy to Isabel. As the words came spilling from his mouth, there was no hesitation. Speaking directly from his heart.

As Tim sat down to watch the Dodgers game. Minutes later, front door opened where his beautiful girlfriend appeared. Even the Dodgers game couldn’t distract him from her. His shining light.

“Hey babe. How was lunch with T?”

“It was good!”

“More importantly, how was your talk with Isabel?”

“You know it ended up being Ok. It was good to see her doing so well. It also, gave me that closure and knowing that she is a part of my past. Looking at my life back then and now. I have never been happier than I am now and that’s ALL because of you baby. You, Lucy Chen are the love of my life, my soulmate and I am…crazy in love with you. You and me for eternity. I love you”

“Well that was a good talk wasn’t it?”

Both laughing at Lucy’s remarks.

“For the record. I am crazy in love with you too, Bradford. And will be forever”

“Alright, Chen. Let’s spend the rest of the day cuddled on that couch watching whatever ridiculous reality show you and T are into now”

“The Dodgers are on”

“Yeah well, even the Dodgers can’t compete with you, my love”

“Bradford, you are gonna get so lucky later”😉

“Oh am I?”

“Yes, you are”

Lucy and Tim spent the rest of the day snuggling one another. Not a care in the world. The future looked so bright for them.

[seandaltonerotic]

Catching Freya

I can’t remember when I first had my suspicions. My wife, Freya, and I had been married for about five years. We met just after we had finished university. We were both at her friend’s birthday party. I was there because her friend’s boyfriend was a good friend of mine. I am pretty sure I was invited so they could match us up together because I was introduced to Freya almost as soon as I arrived and before I knew it, we were alone.

I knew nobody at the party, but Freya and I hit it off immediately and talked most of the night. What got me was her smile and the way her eyes sparkled when she did. The warmth and friendliness of it was intoxicating and I never got tired of seeing it. As we dated, I noticed that her eyes only sparkled for me. We exchanged numbers and arranged to meet for coffee the next day which turned into the whole day. A year later we moved in together and two years after that we were married.

I think her behaviour began to change when she got a new job about two years after we got married. She was unhappy in her job, and she felt her career wasn’t progressing. I, of course, encouraged her. I could see her eyes sparkled less and her job was getting her down.

“How was your first day?” I asked her when she got home when she had started her new job. The sparkle returned to her eyes when she smiled. She didn’t answer. She just took me upstairs and we made love.

After she settled into her new job, Freya became very career driven. She got a couple of promotions in quick successions and soon she was earning more than me. When I mentioned that my supervisor was leaving, Freya asked me if I was going to go for it.

“Come on, Charlie. You could easily lead your team,” she encouraged me. My lack of enthusiasm annoyed her.

The problem was while Freya had become career driven, I was very much a work-to-live kind of guy and any leadership role held no interest for me, and I had an intense dislike of office politics. Don’t get me wrong I earned very good money, plenty to fund my lifestyle, and have some left over. I was content to stay in my system administration role especially as I was always able to earn enough to travel, we went away several times a year, exploring different countries. I loved adventures and I loved having them with Freya. Freya loved them too and loved having them with me as well, or so I thought.

Things started to get awkward when Freya started to receive calls from work and attended conference calls while we were away. Then she took her work laptop on our trips and insisted that we stayed in hotels with Wi-Fi.

“I need to take this call,” she would say. “This is a very important meeting,” or “You go on ahead, I need to get this done. We can meet for lunch.”

We began to argue about her work. I was happy she was enjoying her job, but it was eating into our time together and worst of all when she looked at me, her eyes stopped sparkling.

At this stage, I didn’t think she was having an affair at least if she was, it was with her work. With her latest promotion, she often had to work late, conference calls with the American office, and business trips away. I know what you are thinking but her job did require her to do all these things. My biggest worry was if she was going to be offered a job in New York. I knew she would take it and that would have the end of our marriage.

Yes, we were drifting apart but I still loved her, despite her long hours at work, business trips, and having little time for me.

I said I wasn’t sure when I had my first suspicions but as I speak, now I do. My company got taken over and I knew I was going to be made redundant. I didn’t mind so much despite the financial uncertainty. Freya was earning enough for the both of us to live on, and I was going to get a pretty good redundancy package so I could still contribute at home while I looked for a new job. It just meant my travelling would have to stop for a while after I lost my job.

However, because of my length of service, I was asked to help transfer all the servers to the new company. This meant I needed to be away from home for the odd week. About this time Freya began talking about a colleague who had been seconded to her office from her New York office. She couldn’t stop singing his praises as she excitedly talked about how funny he was, how popular with the ladies and all the cliches that came with it.

“He is so ambitious,” she told me driving the dagger into me.

Yes, you know where this is going but this story is about how Freya’s life crumbled by cheating on me not how she cheated. You only need to know this for context.

Well, when I returned from my trips away, she would insist that I call when I left for home, and when I got home the bedsheets were always in the washing machine. I know, I know, the red flags were building up but although I was getting worried, there wasn’t enough for me to suspect an affair just yet.

However, our intimacy which had dwindled now became non-existent. Freya would only give me the briefest of kisses. While she used to talk about this American colleague all the time, she now stopped. She jealously guarded her phone and wanted to know when I was next going to be away.

I was now positive she was cheating on me.

Two things now. Never cheat on someone who works in tech and cheaters when they think they are getting away with it, get lazy.

I love travelling and I love tech. I never wanted promotions because it would have taken me away from technical work and I am a hoarder of tech. I often bought old tech from my company. Webcams, modems, memory sticks. I had boxes full of it. So, it was no big deal for me to create a bit of DIY spyware. Wireless webcams dotted around my house in the lounge, front door, and bedroom. All connected to an old laptop which I converted into a web server. Some freeware was downloaded from the internet, and I had a spy recording system. That’s what I called it, and it helped me set up my own business later, but truth be told it was a homemade CCTV system but it was still freakingly awesome.

Being away from home meant I could set all this up and Freya working late meant I could install it. I was quite proud of what I did, it had sound and everything.

Once everything was in place, I caught her in the act. I’ll be honest with you; I thought the batteries in the webcams would run out before I got the evidence but Freya must have been desperate for sex because they were at it as soon as he walked through the door.

Now, I had the evidence but getting hold of it and seeing it was proving very difficult. Freya started to come home earlier and looked down. She became a little more attentive but still didn’t want to make love with me. She then told me that she had to go on a trip to America and she was quite excited about it. I think she planned to spend a week of work and fucking with this guy.

I wanted to confront her in a big way when she got back and when she left, I downloaded some movie editing software and created want I could only describe as a porno of her and her lover.

I watched the footage, anger burned inside me. Freya dragged the guy forcefully into the house and pulled him down for a hungry kiss before taking him by the hand and taking him into our bedroom.

She couldn’t get his trousers and underwear down quickly enough. Taking his cock into her mouth,

“Fuck, Freya! You’re incredible at that,” he said in his clear American accent. His compliment made her bob her head harder. Freya loved me eating her pussy, but she was always reticent about going down on me, so I was getting even angrier.

Her American lover pulled himself out of her mouth and then pushed her up the bed. Freya had a sultry smirk on her face as her legs parted. She lifted her hips with her dress pushed up and her panties were quickly removed. The American then plunged his face into her pussy. Freya moaned and her back arched as he set to work.

“Fuck! Fuck!” she moaned. “Don’t stop, Kyle! FUCK!” I could tell she orgasmed hard.

Kyle, so that was his name. I was kind of happy to find out his name. I don’t know why. I just was. I supposed it made him more human. I then paused the footage. It was then my heart broke. Freya pulled his head up and I saw it. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him. The smile she used to only have for me that I hadn’t seen for so long.

As I stared at Freya smiling at Kyle, her eyes sparkling, tears flowing down my face, I got a message from Freya,

“I love you! I miss you!” it came with kissing and heart emojis. To be honest it threw me a curveball. I suppose that is a great phrase to use considering Kyle was American. I decided to call my editing a night. I then got a call from Freya at midnight. She talked to me earnestly with lots of “I love you” and “I miss you so much.” My emotions were all over the place.

I completed my editing throughout the week, sleeping in the spare room as I couldn’t bear to sleep in mine, and was ready to show Freya when she returned all the while she told me how much she loved me every time she called me. Something struck me when I watched her and Kyle fucking. Freya kept talking about leaving me and transferring to America. Kyle sounded very non-committal, but Freya didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh shit! He’s married!” I exclaimed out loud to myself. That explained why she was telling me she loved and missed me. She went to America and found out he was married!

When Freya returned on Saturday, she suddenly became the old Freya again. We made love every day, not even jet lag stopped her.

“I’m so sorry for being cold for the past year. I love you! I want to start a family with you!” she told me with great certainty.

Doubt crept into my mind, that was until she was sent home sick from work. She stayed home sick for the rest of the week. I accepted her excuse that it was fatigue from all the travelling. When you love somebody, really love somebody, you can believe the lies. That was until I saw her being sick one morning and the guilty face that she hid from me as I came to check on her. My blood ran cold.

“Let’s stay in tonight and watch a film. You need to rest,” I told her gently. She smiled weakly at me and agreed.

That evening, I poured us some wine and got the popcorn ready for us. She snuggled up to me when I sat down next to her.

“What are we watching?” she asked excitedly.

“It is a surprise,” I told her.

I pressed play and footage of Freya fucking Kyle appeared on our television. I felt Freya stiffen next to me.

“Switch it off!” she whispered in a desperate voice when she called Kyle ‘baby’ on the television. “Switch it off!” she said louder and more panicked. When I didn’t, she completely lost it. She stood up and threw her wine glass at the television and turned to me wild and wide-eyed, “SWITCH IT OFF! SWITCH IT OFF! SWITCHED IT OFF!” she screamed over and over again.

At the sight of Freya losing control, I did as she wanted. It was now time to talk.

“Why Freya? Why did you do it?”

“Because you have no fucking ambition in life!” she told me. “At least he-“

“You mean, Kyle,” I interrupted her.

Guilt swept over her when I mentioned his name, making her infidelity real.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I screwed up. I got carried away but I’m ready to settle down and spend the rest of my life with you.” Freya was openly crying now. Her cheating and lies were now coming home to roost.

“Fucking hell! screwed up doesn’t even come close!” I shouted at her.

“I love you, Charlie!” she pleaded desperately.

“Love me? You wanted to leave me for Kyle! Was it when you found out he was married that you decided to come back to me?”

“How did you know?”

“It was obvious watching you two talk! He never committed to anything, and you were too stupid to notice.”

“Charlie, please! I do love you!” Freya insisted.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you!” I told flatly. She stared at me in horror. A crushing reality then hit me, “Oh My God! You knew you were pregnant before you went to America and when you found out he was married you decided to make love to me to convince me that Kyle’s baby was mine!”

Freya fell at my feet, gripping my hand tightly, sobbing loudly, “The baby is yours! It is yours! It has to be yours!”

On hearing the last part, I angrily pulled my hand away.

“We’re done, Freya. I want a divorce! I’ll do a paternity test when the baby is born but I doubt it is necessary. We both know it isn’t mine,” I told her cruelly.

“I’m so sorry!” Freya pathetically sobbed.

“What have you done, Freya? You got pregnant with a married man’s baby, and you are going to be a single mum,” I said, my anger dissipating somewhat as the full realisation of what Freya had done to herself, how much she had messed up her life.

Freya just stayed on the floor sobbing, unable to look at me.

“Was being with me so bad? Was I boring? I did have ambition, just not how you wanted.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie!” she said between sobs. “I got carried away with the excitement of my career. How ambitious Kyle was. I couldn’t understand why you weren’t career-driven like me. When I found out that Kyle was married, and he was an asshole then I was pregnant with his baby I realised too late what I had done. When I talked to him about leaving you, it was when I found out I was pregnant. I was going to surprise him when we went to New York, but he was met at the airport by his wife and children. I felt my whole life crashing down around me, right there and then. You were my only hope. I wanted to give this baby a father and I knew you would have been a perfect father. I should be carrying your baby. We should be having a family together, a happy family and now I have ruined everything.”

Pangs of sympathy came over me. She was now being honest. I felt more sympathy for the baby who would be a permanent reminder to Freya of her infidelity and being told that its asshole biological father who lived half a world away, wanted nothing to do with it. It was beyond messed up.

“You can stay here tonight but I’ll call your parents now and they can pick you up tomorrow. I don’t think you should drive anywhere.”

Six months later, a heavily pregnant Freya agreed to all my demands in the divorce. She cried through it all. I took less than I could have because she needed to provide for the baby. That baby was the true innocent party. I took no pleasure in being free from her. The court insisted on a paternity test but when the baby was born the result was never in doubt. Once the paternity test was confirmed and no child support was required our divorce was finalised.

Freya’s parents were embarrassed and ashamed of their daughter and wished me the best, encouraging me to move on. Freya told Kyle about the baby and, being the asshole he was, he refused to accept it was his. I don’t know if Freya will go to court in America and try to get him to accept his responsibility but to be honest, it isn’t my problem.

I genuinely wish Freya and the baby all the best and that they find a happy ever after. Her infidelity destroyed her marriage, lost her friends, ruined her career, and she is a single mum with a child that the father doesn’t want to acknowledge. That level of mistake will scar and haunt her for the rest of her life. I hope she meets someone else who will adopt that child and who will become its father. That child deserves that much.

For me, it was back to square one. I was made redundant. They were really embarrassed about it when I told him about me and Freya. They probably thought they were kicking me when I was down. I used the redundancy money and the money from the sale of the house to start a business selling my CCTV system that I built to catch Freya. The business quickly grew, and I sold it and the patent, making a fortune. I gave some to Freya who gratefully accepted it, but it also made her regret telling me I had no ambition. She was having a hard time so taking the stress of money away helped her enormously. I know I didn’t have to, but I still loved her even if I couldn’t forgive her. She kept emailing me now and again to apologise for everything. I met with her one last time at her parent’s house after she had given birth alone to a daughter, to tell her to move on for her own happiness. I never could bring myself to hate her but if I had it would have gone that day. It was heartbreaking to see her that way. The girl was very cute and looked like Freya.

“She should have been yours,” she told me, and she asked if there was any chance for us again and begged for me to be the baby’s father. It was a desperate thing to ask, so full of regret and low self-esteem. The girl may have looked like Freya but parts of her looked like someone else who wasn’t me.

“I’m sorry, Freya. I’ve moved on,” I replied, it was heartbreaking to see her like this. I held her as she sobbed until her mother came into the room to allow me to leave.

[milady-pink]

Waitress AU

Warnings: Food/baking, domestic abuse, unplanned pregnancy, cheating

Summary: Working at a dead end job, waitress Christine soon finds herself with a new problem: an unplanned pregnancy. Life is all about trying to find the sweet spots and luckily this pie genius has a new (and pretty adorkably sexy) OBGYN, who isn’t too happy at home either.

TL;DR Quirky cute and sexy Erik as a doctor, lab coat and all.

Word Count: 1904 || Graphics: @firefly-graphics

"It Only Takes A Taste "

Recipe Book

AO3

It was a dreary day with warm air, but the sun was hidden from view by a cluster of dark clouds promising rain. It’s been a few days since Christine was told about the pie contest and truth be told, she’s been thinking about it nonstop. Every moment of her waking hours have been filled to the brim with thoughts of what recipe would guarantee first place. 

Different flavor combos and crust ideas was all she could think of, but nothing screamed winner to her. She felt it needed to be something really worthwhile, something no one has seen or tasted before. After all, this pie had to be worth $20,000, enough money to take her, and her unborn child, away from this town and the people in it. 

It was Tuesday so Christine was currently sitting at the bus stop a short walk away from the diner, waiting to be taken home to a quiet house so she could test some of her pie ideas in peace. One such pie was baking in her head, she dubbed it “Getting Out Of The Mud Pie”.

Soft meringue, satin smooth and pillow soft…

…On top: ribbons of homemade strawberry ice cream…

…No crust, chilled overnight for an innovative take on a classic mud pie…

…Copious scoops of mocha almond ice cream, if they even make that…

“Hello?”

…I can sprinkle some bittersweet chocolate morsels on top…

“Mrs. DeChagny?”

…And some slivered almonds too…

“Mrs. DeChagny?”

The flour cleared from her head causing Christine to look up at the voice that insisted on speaking to her. “Doctor Destler, hi! What’re you doin’ here?” She asked, startled from her private thoughts. Apparently Christine was so inraptured in her thoughts that she missed the various greetings of her new doctor.

He was wearing a dark button down shirt, rolled at the forearms, and black pants that complimented his top and dark head of hair. It was a little bizarre to see the man outside of his coat that signified his profession. Now he just looked like a regular man.

Pointing his thumb over his shoulder he answered, “My car is having some trouble starting this morning, so I took the bus.” A soft, lopsided smile came to his lips easily, “I forgot how much I love riding buses. And you?” He inquired politely.

“I’m a regular rider every Tuesday night—my husband goes drinking out with the boys.” She playfully rolled her eyes at the stereotype.

Noticing her mirth he responds, with his own added awkwardness, “That must be nice…for him. Uh, that you let him—”

“Oh I love Tuesdays!” She emphasized, suddenly feeling very awkward herself. She steered the conversation away from her mess of a marriage by asking, “What part of town did you move to?”

This began a light conversation about the doctor, who lives on Stanton Grove, and who said it was a nice part of town if you like trees; which, who doesn’t? Christine asked him if he wanted to sit down next to her as they waited for their buses, when the doctor questioned about the uniform she was wearing. She told him she’s a waitress at Joe’s Pie Diner off of Highway 27, even boasting a bit by stating they sell 27 different pies. He was really blown away when she told him she made them herself, asking her if she made the pie she brought in to her appointment. That lead to the slightly embarrassing backstory that she first came up with the recipe for Marshmallow Mermaid when she was 16 and in her mythical creatures phase.

“That was probably the best pie I’ve ever had in my entire life.” He told her, sincerely.

After going on about the evils of sugar, Christine was noticeably surprised when he said that. “You tried it? Don’t worry, I won’t tell your doctor.” She joked.

But all playfulness was absent as he described to her how exactly good her pie was. “Really, it was….biblically good, it was that amazing. That could win contests, ribbons and other stuff.”

Christine told herself that the blush currently warming her face was from pride, and nothing else. “Thank you, what a thing to say,” said with little gusto since she was so unused to people saying nice things about her pies.

Misjudging her lack of excitement, he apologized. “I’m sorry, that was supposed to be a compliment.”

“I know,” Christine said, honestly, “that’s why it made me uncomfortable, m’not used to ‘em.”

Sneaking a glance at his bench mate, Doctor Destler noticed her pink cheeks. “And now you’re blushing, I shouldn’t have said that.” A moment of slight embarrassed silence befell the two, until a memory came to the doctor.  “You know,” he began, “seeing you here in your uniform….Ah forgot it.”

Now interested in what he was thinking about, Christine interrogated, curious to know more. “What about my uniform? Is it not my color?” She added, cheekily.

“No, no.” He smiled, eyes glazed over from memories long ago. “You remind me of this girl I knew. Man, she’s probably middle aged with kids and a husband.” This happy sentiment made Christine smile. “God she’d be what? 41 or 42 now?” Christine dropped her smile.

“And I remind you of this 42-year-old woman?”

“Hm?” As if remembering she was there he looked over and noticed her not so thankful face. “Oh, my god, no, no no!” His face instantly dropping the second he remembered what she just said about what she was insinuating. “It’s just— she was a waitress, too!” That his reassurance gave Christine a better picture into how this man worked, and that he’s not very good at talking to people.

“She worked at this bakery, I used to go a lot cause I had a major sweet tooth in medical school. Pretty lady; small hands, nice teeth, smelled like carbs.” His lopsided smile returned as he remembered his younger years studying away for a medical degree. “I was in school, so broke, and she must have noticed me staring longingly into the window because she used to sneak me some goods like croissants and muffins. She was a real sweetheart.” He looked back to Christine, “That’s what reminded me of you.”

“Well, no one ever notices me like that,” she trailed off, taken aback by another compliment.

“Somebody did, right?” Christine stared back at the masked man, blank expression, not understanding what he meant. “You’ve got th-the, the baby so….” Before she could get a word in edgewise to be offended he continued his story. “Anywho, this other waitress used to bake the pies fresh, daily, like you! Well, not quite like you, no offense to her, but your pies are…whoo. I mean, if pies and other such desserts were books, your pies would be the Shakespeare's letters of books. Does that make sense? Probably not, sorry. What I’m trying to say is you remind me of this waitress who also baked pies, but you're way better.”

The amount of ups and downs from the, supposed, doctor’s rambling could have caused Christine to develop whiplash. She did, however, have the decency to take in what he said at the very end of his onslaught of nervous speaking; he likened her to another pie maker, but called her better. That, at the very least, warmed her up some.

“It’s like they say, ‘it only takes one taste to know when you want a whole slice’. Don’t ask me who says that, I don’t know.” He said honestly, shaking his head.

Christine broke the silence, saving the poor nut from himself. “That reminds me of something my mama used to say in the kitchen when she was teaching me to bake. She’d say, “You can tell the whole story of the pie with just one taste, Christine.’” She shared.

He popped up at her words, thankful at least one of them was a wordsmith. “That’s exactly it! I mean, when I had that first bite of your pie, it felt like I could taste every individual ingredient you used, like I could see it sitting in a pantry. Maybe it was the years of no sugar but, one bite and I wanted that whole pie to myself.” He joked, but held an underlying seriousness to his words.

All Christine could do was sit and smile to what he was saying, pleased someone else could find enjoyment in her baking than her usual customers. “Honestly, it felt like the entire room evaporated and it was just me and the pie, alone.” Suddenly, his tone got a lot more thoughtful and a little bashful, staring at the pavement in front of him as he spoke. “It even got me thinking, what your hands must have felt like, crumbling the butter, mixing the filling, rolling out the dough. Wonder what your hands felt like when they made something so…masterful.” He all but mumbled the last bit.

Because of his soft speaking of her baking process, Christine had to lean in a bit and in doing so got a very good look at what her doctor’s lips looked like; thin, but slightly plump in the middle, perfect for tugging between teeth— “One bite of pie, caused all those thoughts?” She asked, mesmerized.

Looking up from the sidewalk, he took in how close the two had become on the bench. Maybe it was her imagination, but Christine thought she saw his amber eyes look down to her lips before looking into her eyes and saying, “It only takes one.”

The pair was quick to separate and retreat back to a reasonable distance from each other when they heard the sound of squeaking from the bus’s brakes. Each sat a little dazed and tried to shake off the looming heat that must have come from the sun peaking through those pesky clouds. Realizing it was her number, Christine got up from her seat.

“Well,” she said, trying not to seem too thrown off, “this one’s mine. Nice talking with you, Doctor Destler.”

Just as she was about to step onto the bus and pay the fee, she heard the doctor call out, “Christine.” Turning around, she was again made aware how very tall her doctor was, barely hitting his collarbone. “You can call anytime, I’m here.” He said, placing a slender hand on her arm. “For all of your questions and concerns, that is.” Taking his hand away, and leaving her with one of his lopsided smiles.

She gave one of her own small smiles, and boarded the bus, going as far as to wave to him from her seat as the bus started to drive away. 

The air conditioning in the bus was cold, but more so was her arm where his larger one had been moments ago. Not to mention, the small smile she gifted the doctor still remained on her face, smiling to herself as she thought back to the encounter. How the strange, new doctor likened her pies to Shakeaspeare’s letters and cared enough to wonder what her hands felt like as she made them. 

Christine rode the bus home, to her little ranch house that hasn’t been redecorated since the eighties at least, that smile staying put through every bump and pothole.

Maybe being compared to a 42 year old woman wasn’t the compliment it should have been, but to Christine it meant the world.

[katoska]

If we do get Season 4 of The Orville, I predict that Claire forbidding John from giving Isaac relationship advice will come to bite her in the ass.

We can't be sure how much Isaac has been lead by others wrt his relationship to Claire. We know he sought out advice on his own, and John told him to dress nicely and bring flowers (but not roses). Did Isaac pick his clothes, or did Dann help him? Did he pick the flowers? How much outside help does he need with "non-routine tasks"? We know it had been John idea to use the portable simulation device so Isaac and Claire could kiss, but whose idea has it been to delete the personal data? Or the Big Romantic Apology (well, "getting back the girl" was Ed's idea, but what about the details of it)? Though I'd buy that Isaac came up with the latter by himself, as he seems to have mostly come up with the ratty underwear etc by himself, too.

Just... he does still need guidance. He looks stuff up by himself - looking up human bonding is proof of that - and sometimes it works brilliantly (Bridge Rain), and sometimes it does not (ratty underwear), and so far the latter could be conveniently blamed on bad advice (even though Lamarr tried to defend himself and said he never told him to do that, exactly). Without a Guide/Scapegoat to help Isaac with new ideas, it's possible that the romance will get stale because he might just stick to a routine.

[laughing-with-god]

The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.���

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

--

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note:  So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next.  The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life.  Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ.  Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol.  This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments.  Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads​ once again for creating the cover art for this fic.  They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop​! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic.  They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar.  They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while.  I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.  

[letsasoiaftogether]

Preference...

...Their reactions/feelings towards their bride not being a maiden on their wedding night

A/N: The topic is ns/fw HOWEVER there is no actual smut below! I did my best to get these as accurate as possible, but there were one or two (Stannis) who I couldn’t find the right words to describe!

Ramsay Bolton

If he discovered his wife wasn’t a maiden when they married, he wouldn’t be angry that you’re not a maiden, but he would be very possessive and determined to let you know that he’s the best. Unlike the others, he wouldn’t pick fights or stop talking to you while thinking through his feelings, he would just…. be very handsy and always kissing you/holding you close. Verbally, he would probably just mock you for being with others when he existed (even if you didnt know him when you lost your maidenhood).

Roose Bolton

If he discovered on their wedding night that his wife wasn’t a maiden, Roose probably wouldn’t be bothered. The only thing he would want to know is if he has any sort of competition/if you’re still secretly seeing whomever took your maidenhood. While, yes, Roose is possessive he wouldn’t care too much about things that happened prior to his relationship with you unless those things could cause problems for him/his plans.

Stannis Baratheon

If his wife wasn’t a maiden on their wedding night, Stannis would be very irritated. He has his ideas on how a person should live and that would be even stricter for his wife. No matter if he chose his spouse or if it was a political match (on the orders of Robert), unless his wife was previously married Stannis would expect a maiden. He would see it as an insult if otherwise. He wouldn’t try to end the marriage, but he’s already awkward around women so there could be a long period of little to no communication from him as he works through his frustrations.

Theon Greyjoy

Wouldn’t be too bothered by it. As someone who sleeps around himself, and someone who comes from a culture like the Iron Islands, he wouldn’t make a scene of it and get mad/start shouting, but he would definitely use every opportunity to tease you about it.

Robb Stark

If he discovered his wife wasn’t a maiden on their wedding night, he would be surprised but he wouldn’t ask about it right away. He would be a little embarrassed to talk about it as it is a very intimate/private matter. If anything, he wouldn’t bring it up at all and just let it go. You’re with him now and as long as you’re not still seeing whoever took your maidenhood, then Robb probably wouldn’t see it as all that important to find out.

Joffrey Baratheon

If his wife wasn’t previously married, Joffrey would be furious if he discovered his wife wasn’t a maiden on their wedding night (if he even noticed). He would remain angry about it for a long time and would demand to know who had taken his wife’s maidenhood. There’s even the possibility of him manhandling the wife in his anger and/or demanding an annulment because he feels lied to.

[adeliniel]

SFW alphabet | Dettlaff

Yes, I do write not only LOTR things, but some others as well.

Enjoy and have a nice day^^

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

Dettlaff feels everything deeper than we, humans, so it must be said that his affection is really strong. It grows slowly, cause he questions all of his feelings toward you.

It makes him feel completely vulnerable, seeing you watching him, and at first he ignores you a little rudely. Later he changed the way he interacted with you to something more warm and polite, and it became the point of no return.

B = Body (Their favorite body part of their partner, why? Do they like touch?) 

Shoulders line. Considering Beauclair's fashion on closed dresses, Dettlaff finds this part of your body very intimate to show. And it feels very precious to be able to touch you there, kiss soft skin on your sharp bones.

C = Courtship (What do they do to take your attention?) 

Doesn't really want to take your attention. He prefers to stay in the shadows and watch, waiting if you would notice him or not. Being sure that you like him back makes him more confident - he'll come to talk with you, share a meal or drink, escort you on a journey to the nearby city - having no other thoughts that make you feel comfortable around him.

D = Domestic (Are they the type to settle down with you? Are they willing to help with chores? What is your daily routine with them?) 

He doesn't have a real understanding of what home really is. Dettlaff thinks about it as a place where you can sleep or wait out the danger. At this point he doesn't care about having one special place to stay.  It'll take a lot of time for him to get used to what home really is, not without your help, of course.  

E = Espousal (Do they want to marry you eventually? Who proposes to who?) 

Believes you're his forever from the moment you became lovers. Doesn't really get the concept of marriage, because for him it changes nothing in his attitude - he loves you and only this makes sense. May agree to the ceremony, if you explain why this is so important to you, but definitely won't be that one who proposed.

F = Fragile (How protective are they of you? If they are, how do they show this?) 

Extremely protective, sometimes even too much. Rarely does it feel like he's making a bubble around you, so no one and nothing could hurt you. Vampires do not die in the usual sense, but live, knowing he couldn't protect you, seems much worse to him. Dettlaff does everything he could and even more for you to still be safe.

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they like receiving gifts?)

It could be both usual gifts, popular in the human world, and something crazy, that he finds suitable for the occasion. Has an explanation for why he chose this or that to give to you, but what really makes him happy is when you see right through and understand the meaning of the gift by yourself.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

He'd like to say that he is not a hug-lover, but the point is he's just not used to it. The more you hug him, the more he likes it. If it started as some awkward friend hugs, soon it'll evolve to more passionate and tight hugs. For now he could really spend an hour or two lying down and hugging you.

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)  

Intimacy and romance are hard things for Dettlaff. He has no need for such, and barely catches the right mood. But the closer you get, the more intimate he will become. Bare sex changes to making love, usual meetings in the town become something more like dates, his words and action appear more and more dedicated to you and express his real feelings. He opens his heart, and it is priceless.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He has a big feeling of possessiveness. Despite he considers you as a part of his pack, Dettlaff has no intentions of sharing you with anybody. He gets truly aggressive when jealous, but the most difficult thing is that his jealousy sometimes is indeed unfounded. He is not good at understanding people's ways of communication and it happens that he perceives someone's good manners for flirting.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) 

Most of Dettlaff’s kisses are passionate and wild. It feels like you're walking on a knife blade. Sometimes he bites your lips to blood, unintentionally, and it feels dangerous and exciting at the same time. But on those rare (well, not really rare) occasions, when you kiss him first, he froses for a moment and then answers softly and gently, maintaining your path.

L = Love language (What’s their love language?) 

Attention and actions. If Dettlaff is in love - he is fully dedicated to his partner. All his thoughts and actions are aimed at his beloved one. He notices every change, every little detail, and he remembers all of them. Actions mean more than words, but before acting he wants to be sure he knows how to do it properly.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) 

Depends on whether he spends the night with you or not. If yes, he'd probably wait until you wake up, looking at your face, touching your hair or tracing his fingertips on your bare shoulders.

If not, he'll wait for you somewhere around the house, smirking at your sleepy look and gladly responding to your morning hugs.

N = Nicknames (What do they call you? What do you call them?)

Doesn't use them and simply call you by the name. And for very rare occasions may use "Love". Similarly isn't very fond of hearing different nicknames towards himself, but secretly loves that time, when you couldn't remember his name and used to call him "Mister Vampire".

O = Overture (How did everything start?) 

First he saw you some years after his Beauclair "adventure". He was living quietly, hiding in a small village near the mountains, when you came there to visit your friends. Dettlaff followed you back to Beauclair, attracted by curiosity he never expected to feel towards the human world again.

P = Pace (Are they fast-paced in a relationship? Or do they like to take things slow?) 

Unexpectedly, he really hurries into a relationship. Because Dettlaff feels everything very deeply, his feelings overwhelm him, and he just couldn't resist his urgent need to speed up the events. He barely touches your hand, but blood already rushes through his veins, making him want to grab you in his arms and never let go.

Q = Queen/King (Who takes the initiative in relationships?)

It could be said that you take the initiative equally. Sometimes it's him who leads, other times it's your turn to reveal your wishes and be the one who takes responsibility. Everything is fine while you listen to one another.

R = Remembrance (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) 

That day when you first stayed for the night together somewhere in the little house in the mountains. Staring at the stars, drinking wine, talking about something funny and noncenless... That felt so surreal, so unbelievable, and yet that was so true.  

S = Salvage (What issues does this relationship help him to cope with?) 

From the very start your relationship helps him with his total distrust of people. Humans lied to him and betrayed him many times, so he didn't expect to give them any other chance. But here he is, trying to learn how to live with people around, trying to join your circle of friends.

T = Tiny (How are they around children?)

That fact that he voluntarily worked as a toy maker in Beauclair says that at least he is not against children. Is not a type who wants his own children but will not be against if one or two orphans would be around.

U = Ulterior (What’s their secret?) 

Dettlaff would never admit it, even under the threat of death, but he likes when you scratch his back. Especially when during this he could embrace you.

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?) 

He is quick enough with the relations, but it takes really a lot of time for him to be able to reveal what's on his mind. Most of the time he takes time for your problems and needs, neglecting his own. And it means so much when you sit next to him, take his pale cold palms to yours and make him speak, listen to everything he wants to whisper to you, either it's words of love or his biggest fear.

W = Wound (How do they feel about exposing their scars/injuries?) 

As a vampire Dettlaff has great regeneration skills, so he doesn't get scars or so. And all of the injuries heal really quick on him. Only the one time you saw him wounded - when some other vampire pierced him with his claws. You lost consciousness, being scared to death by that picture. He swore that never again he would let you see anything like that.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon about your relationship) 

He finds it cute when you get a little drunk. It's mostly impossible for a vampire to feel intoxicated, but humans do get drunk, and it seems funny for him. Seeing you smiling more than usual and how your cheeks become red, excites him a lot.

Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when their SO isn’t with them?) 

He panics. Your absence makes him so nervous that he can't concentrate on anything. Even if you let him know that you'd be gone for some time, he will hastily pacing around the room, waiting for your comeback. There were a couple of times when he tried to follow you, but when you asked for some time to be alone, Dettlaff tries his best to stay away and not bother you.

Z = Zzz (How are nights spent with them?) 

Vampires don't need to sleep, actually, so at first he just said "Good night" to you and left you alone, then wandering around the house till morning. Yet sometimes you fell asleep on his chest or laps and he could stay still all night just to let you sleep. Still strange to him, but he likes it when you say that it's too cold or too scary to sleep alone, and he can legally stay in your bed. 

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