#wish i could switch my major but it’s too late unless i want to stay an extra year and keep paying this exorbitant tuition. no thanks
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i’m actually looking forward to getting my grade back for this exam bc i already know i failed so now i’m curious as to just how badly i did
#daily i hate organic chemistry post xx#wish i could switch my major but it’s too late unless i want to stay an extra year and keep paying this exorbitant tuition. no thanks#no way out but through. like macbeth saying i am in blood stepped so far that should i wade no more returning were as tedious as go o’er#oh and there’s no curve 😍 the final is my last chance to get the minimum passing grade for credit but i have like a 1% chance of that
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[Scorching Sandgems] I Was Killed in Battle and Reincarnated as My Murderer's Reincarnated Self's Daughter - AMA -- Intro
Origin Clocktower, 27F, Ruined Kingdom
Izanami, Jeanne, Daiyu, and Lauren entered the floor and started walking down the corridor. Looking around, despite the horrible state of the outside, Lauren could tell that this place was well-maintained. The corridor had fresh lighting and pristine doors leading to all different manners of rooms. It was almost like walking down a hotel if anything. A part of her wondered if this was how the Clocktower has always looked...
"On this floor," Izanami started speaking, "Friede won't be able to hear us, so what better place to relax and catch up than here? That is, unless you wish for a more... battle-centric environment."
"I don't mind giving you a piece of my mind, Granny, but not now." Jeanne huffed.
"Oh? My, are you ever the feisty one, Jeanne. Someone seems to have gained quite the courage lately."
"Uh... please, don't fight. That's not what we're here for." Plus, she doesn't want to run into trouble for her first visit. She has basement floors to get the feeling of.
Izanami shook her head. "Don't worry, little one. We're just doing a little... trash talk. It's been a while, after all."
"'Don't'? 'We're'? 'It's'? Since when were you a fan of speaking so casually?"
Izanami shook her head. "I'm just trying something new. I hope it's not too jarring, hm?"
"...It's going to take some getting used to, but could be worse."
---
Izanami led them to a suite a little ways away before opening the door. It was a fairly large area, almost like a full apartment complete with furnishings and a spare room. She gestured them all inside, waiting as the group entered before entering herself. The trio sat on a couch while Izanami sat on a char to the side.
"Before we begin, as your host, I must give you all two major ground rules. First and foremost, while I remember everything in my previous life, that doesn't mean that Friede has as well. Not only must you treat her with the utmost respect and due diligence, but you must not make things awkward for her. That means to keep the knowledge of my retained memories a secret from her, and talks of her past life to a minimum at this time. I don't need for her to feel agonized from her past deeds, nor make it awkward for us if she knows that her daughter was the last Arceus that she killed in battle."
The group nodded.
"Secondly, I will not return home to live with you, and there is nothing that you can do about it. Heidi is your Arceus now, and she will continue to be. You all will be safe and prosper with her, and do not need me... and I want to live this new life as just that -- a new beginning. I will come by to visit when I feel like it, but I won't stay. Do I make myself clear, children?"
Lauren nodded. "Yes, Nami."
Daiyu bowed. "Yes, ma'am."
Jeanne nodded. "Yes, Granny."
"Good. I'm glad we can at least agree to that much. Now, you have the floor. I will answer any questions that you may have to the best of my knowledge, but I also have questions for all of you. I hope this will help whatever your purpose for trespassing into my mother's domain has."
The group each looked at each other. It was only right to keep things one person at a time, and there was one person that needed to hear her the most.
-- But instead of immediate questions, Lauren had something else in mind initially. Lauren got up, which caused Izanami to get up in return. The dragon then rushed Izanami and hugged her as tightly as she could before crying. Lauren even switched forms to keep a hold of herself.
"NAAAAMIIIIIII!" Lauren embraced her tightly as she started loudly sobbing. "I-- I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! I THOUGHT THAT I'D NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN!"
"I missed you too, sweetheart. I thought of you and your sister and all of my babies every day since I came back to life...."
Lauren continued sobbing as Izanami was patting her back. Jeanne and Daiyu, meanwhile, simply sat and watched. This was a moment for just the two of them, and a moment that they both sorely needed.
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Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 8
Rise of the Demon King
Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:
His brothers would always know whenever he went to see her as he’d always come back with a content smile on his face. Deep down, he wished that Y/N could’ve met Cynthia. They would have made great friends as they were the only 2 people who could make him smile like this. Mammon may not have been able to save Y/N, but he swore that he would protect Cynthia, no matter the cost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER 8 - The Great Pancake Debate (2261 words)
It’s been almost 6 months since you arrived in the Celestial Realm. Needless to say, you are quite certain that these last 6 months have been the craziest and stressful months of your life! When you told Simeon and Luke about you staying here, to say they were ecstatic would be an understatement. Luke jumped for joy and wouldn’t stop rambling about all the fun you were going to have. When you told them about God appointing them to help teach you about the Realm, Luke practically did a double take and it took an hour to calm him. Now you have Simeon teaching you about politics and Luke about how to use your wings and powers. On your second day there, Michael woke you up, or well came to get you as you didn’t get any sleep. Turns out, while the Devildom is constant at night, the Celestial realm is constant day and thanks to the floor to ceiling windows, there was no way for you to stop sunlight from coming in. You were introduced to the council at breakfast. Note to self, the brothers breakfasts are QUIET AND PEACEFUL compared to Archangels off duty. The first thing you saw were 2 angels passionately arguing over which pancake topping was the best, strawberries or blueberries. At some point a third angel cut in claiming chocolate chips were the best and all heaven (would you replace hell with heaven here? idk) broke loose. As for me, I just started chuckling in disbelief while making my way over to pick up a pancake of my own when the angel arguing on behalf of the strawberries saw you.
“Hey kid, what topping do you prefer, strawberries, blueberries, or chocolate chips? It’s strawberries right?”
“Actually, I prefer them plain with maple syrup. Although if Satan was the one making it, I’d go for the one with poison berries. Contrary to their name, they’re not actually poisonous and quite sweet.” All the angels present looked at me with a mix of shock and disbelief, save for Michael who just sat there eating his breakfast hoping to leave soon and get to work.
“Kid, did you say Satan?” The angel arguing on behalf of blueberries asked. “Yeah… Blond hair, teal eyes, Avatar of Wrath, Luci’s son? Ring a bell?” Turning to Michael, blueberry angel asked,
“Micheal, who are they and why are they wearing Lucifer’s old get up?” “This is Y/N. They will be staying here and taking Samael’s spot on the council until their agreement with Father ends and they return to the Devildom. Father has asked us to teach them about how our Realm operates and how to successfully fulfill Samael’s former position flawlessly, unless they want to return now and leave heaven early?” Michael turned towards you with a smirk on his face as he asked the last part.
“Very funny Mike. You and I both know I won’t do that no matter how bad you want me to.”
“What did I say about calling me that?!” Micheal’s smirk turned into something short of a snarl.
“Well, if you won’t take me seriously, neither will I. You want me to call you by your name, earn it and stop being an butt… I meant an butt… Why can’t I swear?!”
“This is the Celestial Realm Y/N. Angels don’t swear.” Michael said smugly over the rim of his cup of coffee.
“God Dang it! Argh! Fudge!. Dang it! Ya know what, forget it, my entire mood is ruined. Thanks Michael!”
“Anytime.”
Shooting Michael one last glare, I sighed and turned to the rest of the baffled angels in the room.
“Yes, what Michael said is true. Stuff happened in the Devildom which I will not get in too-”
“The demon king made Samael kill them.”
“Ok, Mike, first off, he didn’t, I ordered him too, second, I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about it. What gives you the right to tell them huh?”
“I felt like it.”
“You son of a beach.” I turned back to the rest of the angels. “Not a word about it. Anyway, due to some personal issues, I made a deal with Father to stay here on the condition that I take over Lucifer’s spot on the council until he either kicks me out or until our agreement has ended.”
“If I may, when will this agreement of yours be over?” The blueberry angel asked.
“I will be returning to the Devildom once Lord Diavolo has been crowned king and his father is 100% out of the picture. Now if you don’t mind me asking, could you introduce yourselves?” “Oh how rude of us, I’m sorry, I am Gabriel.” Gabriel had chestnut brown medium length hair, reaching shoulders. His eyes were a dull green. He wore a white turtleneck and had a light green shawl with golden tassels. He pointed to the strawberry angel. “This is Raphael and he’s Uriel.” He pointed to the chocolate chip angel. Raphael had long reddish-orange hair put up in a high ponytail. His eyes were a stormy gray. He wore a simple light gray half sleeve with an off the shoulder white cape and little decor. Uriel had short gray hair and golden eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. He wore something that reminded you of an off white scholar's robe with gray accents. “These are Saraqael, and Raguel.” He pointed to 2 of the quieter angels who didn’t participate in “the great pancake debate”. “We make up the Archangel council and we’re happy to have you Y/N.” Gabriel finished off with a smile. You were just barely able to make out a little “Not all of us” from Michael. You decided to ignore it, and then, like all the decisions you’ve ever made, it was the wrong one. Sitting back down you asked,
“So, quick question. What started The Great Pancake Topping debate?”
.
.
.
.
Breakfast ended 2 hours later with upset angels, and pancakes, everywhere…
In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N
Levi went straight to his room as soon as they got home. As soon as he closed and locked the door he went straight to Henry’s fishbowl, picked it up and sat in his bathtub, hugging the bowl as he cried. ‘Why do I feel like this?! I only like 2D characters and Ruri-chan, not 3D people. How do I miss them?... Why did they leave me? They were my player 2.’ “Well it makes sense, no one would want to stay with a worthless shut in of an otaku like me” he said to the empty room. Henry 2.0 glubbed a bubble in response. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you Henry?” *Glub* “No you wouldn’t… I miss them.” Levi stayed in his tub hugging Henry 2.0 until he fell asleep.
Present
It was another late night, Levi was bingeing a new anime ‘I fell in love with a 3D girl but I’m afraid she’ll leave me after finding out that I’m an otaku who rarely leaves their room’ . He was halfway through the 9th episode when he got a notification from Mononoke Island. One of his raid mates was stuck and needed some help. He paused his marathon to help his fellow mate and stayed up until the early hours of the morning switching between playing Mononoke and watching his anime. Stumbling into the dining room for breakfast the next morning, he was met with complete silence. Lucifer had left early, Belphie was asleep, Beel was too absorbed in eating, Satan in his book and Asmo on his phone to even notice him enter the room. Mammon was busy in the human world helping out sone witches. Levi sat down in his normal spot, taking whatever was left as he mentally prepared himself for the day. As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of the day at RAD, still dressed in his uniform, Levi left as quickly as he could. There was an anime expo happening in the human realm right now and there was some ultra-rare limited edition Ruri-chan merch being sold there. He had gotten Lucifer’s permission to attend the expo so long as he was back by 11. Existing the portal and making his way to the expo, Levi thought about the last expo he attended with Y/N. They cosplayed as Erin and Levi from Attack on Titan and spent the entire day surrounded by fellow anime nerds. They had also booked a room at a nearby hotel. It was 3 days of bonding time for them. Entering the expo, Levi decided he would get something for them as decor for their headstone put in memory of them in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. Nearing the line for Ruri-chan merch, Levi noticed someone staring intensely at him. He decided to ignore them but keep a loose eye on them, just in case. He got to the front of the line and purchased 4 of the Ruri-chan collection kits. One for use, one for display, one to keep and sell in the future, and one for Y/N. He decided to wander around a little more to see if anything else would catch his eye while he was here. He spotted a Black Butler station and remembered the jokes he and Y/N would crack about Barbatos and Sebastian. He passed a Fate/Stay Night stand and remembered their conversations on which heroic class they would belong to. Levi would have been the perfect Lancer. He passed countless other stalls, each of them holding a memory he made with Y/N. Distracted by his trip down memory lane, Levi forgot all about the person stalking him. He went and purchased some dinner from one of the stalls before sitting down and pulling out his DDD and looked at some pictures of Y/N and him at their last expo. He didn’t look up from his phone until he felt someone sit opposite of him. Levi looked up to see some middle aged man just sitting there on his phone. He didn’t have any food, merch, or even look like someone interested in an anime expo. Feeling an uncomfortable aura emitting from this man, Levi got up and left. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw that the man wasn’t following him. He left the expo and went down an alleyway to open up a portal back to the Devildom when he accidentally bumped into someone dropping his purchases.
“S-sorry”
“That’s quite alright.” The stranger extended a hand out to let him up. “Say, I’d love to know where you got your uniform from. No schools around here have uniforms like that one.”
Looking up, Levi saw the same man that was watching him with a twisted smile. Masking his fear, he mumbled an excuse about being in a rush and tried to dash around him. Before he could get 2 steps down the alley, the man grabbed him and pushed him further into the alleyway. Levi’s head struck the wall hard leaving him dazed for a moment.
“I didn’t think my intel about finding a RAD attendee at the expo would be true but whaddya know? Seems I caught myself a demon.”
Levi, now more aware of his surroundings, realized he was cornered by a demon hunter. Despite being in an alleyway, there were too many people around for him to do anything rash. Without missing a beat, the hunter pulled out an enchanted dagger aiming straight for Leviathan’s heart. Levi rolled and dogged last minute before colliding into someone’s chest. That person in question wrapped his arms around Levi’s chest and put their own dagger to his throat.
“I know you’re there! Come on out and I might spare your friend's life!” The hunter holding Levi yelled. When no one stepped out, the dagger held by Levi’s neck began pushing on his skin. Levi felt a flare of pain and against his better judgement, transformed. His tail wrapped around hunter 2’s leg and flipped him over while the first hunter charged at him, only to be blown to the ground as a powerful gust of wind knocked him over.
“Jeez Levi, you’re lucky I was here. Seriously, why didn’t ya do somethin’ earlier? Maybe then I wouldn’t have ta save yo ass.” Mammon stepped out from the darkness with a bored look on his face.
“Come on, Lucifer’s waiting for ya back home. LOOK OUT!” Levi turned around just in time to see Hunter number 2 taking a swing at his neck and managed to duck just in time. Mammon then charged over punching the hunter square in the face, knocking him out cold.
“T-thanks M-mammon.”
“No problem. Come on, let’s get ya back home before any more of them show up.”
Stepping through the portal, a question plagued Levi’s mind.
“Mammon, how did you know I was in trouble?”
“Some witches summoned me. I overheard them talk about some hunter group getting a tip about a possible demon being at some expo. Then I realized that it was the same one you were going to, so I decided to go there myself to make sure ya weren’t followed. I’m glad I did too.”
“Th-thank you Mammon. Really.”
“Of course, what are big brothers for. Anyway, about my payment, maybe you can forget about the money I owe ya?”
Groaning, Levi started walking faster, leaving Mammon and his whining behind as he made his way back to the safety of his room.
#obey me: one master to rule them all#obey me#obey me x reader#lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer#mammon x reader#obey me mammon#leviathan x reader#obey me leviathan#satan x reader#obey me satan#asmodeus x reader#obey me asmodeus#beelzebub x reader#obey me beelzebub#belphegor x reader#obey me belphegor#obey me micheal#OMFIC#MAMMON CAN BE A BIG BRO TOO#HE'S NOT ALL TSUNDERE AND I WILL DIE BY THAT#obey me raphael#obey me uriel#obey me gabriel#obey me angel OC's#multi chapter fic#ao3 crosspost
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Bullied
@youngjusticeimaginesus here is your request!
Main Masterlist
You had been adopted by the Danvers family when you were quite young; barely a year old. They had been there for you basically since the beginning and you did consider them your family, regardless that you weren’t blood related.
While Kara and Alex had been living it up in National City, you were still stuck in boring Midvale. You were still in high school so you couldn’t exactly move with them. They visited every now and then, but you wished you could see them more. They made life so much better.
Midvale wasn’t the most exciting place to you. There wasn’t much for you to do--or much that Eliza allowed you to do-- and honestly, the people sucked. A lot of them were close-minded assholes who couldn’t care less about anybody. The students at the school you attended were somewhat bearable, but there was always that handful that thought they were better than everyone and ruled the school.
Unfortunately for you, your mouth had put you in the situation you were in now. Some guy--that you were pretty sure had been in eleventh grade for the past three years--had you pushed against the locker, your collar in his hand.
Apparently, you were in the wrong when you corrected his grammar and took the last apple all the same day and you guessed it pissed him off.
“Got nothing to say now, huh?”
You simply scrunched your nose and reached into your pocket to grab something. You held out your hand and in it was a mint.
“Your breath stinks. Do you want it?”
‘Ooh’s’ rang out as he punched you in your jaw. Probably shouldn’t have said that.
“Ouch.”
The boy(?) chuckled darkly and shook his head at you.
“That ain’t nothing. I suggest you learn to keep your mouth closed unless you want some more?”
-
You didn’t keep your mouth shut.
You were currently limping home while holding your jaw that still ached. Your backpack hung loosely on your left shoulder, your right one still sore from when he slammed you into the lockers. Your stomach hurt and you were pretty sure it was bruised black and blue.
You stayed the rest of the school day after the fight happened because you knew Eliza would have your ass if you were home early regardless of the situation. And it’s not like the school would call her. They turned a blind eye to every incident, fight, just about everything really. You thought they just didn’t want to do the paperwork. You didn’t blame them for that though; paperwork sucks.
So you just sat through it. You tried to make it straight home, but you were tired and in pain and you just wanted to rest, so you stopped at a bench that was on the sidewalk to take a breather.
You really could’ve handed his ass to him if you tried. Every now and then, Alex would teach you some self defense moves, but you knew fighting him would give him another reason for him and his buddies to target you. Also, the school system sucks and you would most likely be at fault for ‘agitating the student first’. And for some reason, the dude was a golden student at the school despite being like, three years younger than the youngest of the staff.
“That’s probably why he gets away with it; bribes ‘em with sex. He’s probably not even that good. Shrimp dick,” you muttered while getting up from your spot.
Eventually, you made your way up to the driveway and got the key out to open the door.
“Stupid motherfucker. Stanky ass breath. Oompa loompa, noodle head looking ass. Got me fucked up.”
You were so busy muttering insults, you didn’t notice your sisters sitting in the living room with your mom. You simply stomped--well the best you could--your way upstairs still mumbling any rude remarks that popped up in your head, most of it just angry gibberish at this point.
Both sisters looked at each other, then their mother with questioning looks on their faces. They all jumped when the door slammed closed. Alex decided to go check on you and Kara followed. She knocked and waited for you to answer.
“Mom, for the last time; I don’t want to go to your weekly book club meetings. Who willingly reads Fahrenheit 451 anyway? That book gave me a migraine.”
Your siblings both chuckled at your comments and opened the door.
“Not mom.”
You pulled your head up to look at your sisters and furrowed your eyebrows.
“You’re here?”
Kara nodded her head and took a seat at the end of your bed and Alex watched as your face contorted in pain as you turned to look at them.
“Yes. You were probably too busy mumbling and stomping to notice.”
Alex nodded in agreement and gained your attention.
“Speaking of which, why were you mumbling and stomping? What’s going on?”
“N-”
“And don’t say nothing because I can see you cringe every time you move.”
You sighed and realized there was literally no point in lying because they could tell if you were.
“So there’s this dude in eleventh grade; I’m pretty sure he’s like 20 though. My question is how fucking dumb are you where you fail like three times? What type of sense does that make? Okay, maybe once is understandable; the school system sucks major ass and the material is absolutely useless anyway. Like why are we not learning how to start loans or do taxes. What is the point of school anyway? I’m not going to need to know the area or perimeter of the building I work in. The history is all bullshit too. Like I’m supposed to believe Christopher Columbus discovered America. ‘Discover’ my ass. That cracker wasn’t nothing but a racist and rapist. And I’m really supposed to believe Pocahontas willingly married that man? If they don’t go on somewhere with all of these lies. They always said lying is wrong in kindergarten. Why the fuck tell us that when all they do is lie? History is all a lie. All they do is-”
“(Y/N)!”
“Right! Sorry. Anyway. So he said something and I legitimately almost had a stroke trying to process it, so I corrected him and tried to make sense of what he was saying. Also I think I was in front of him in the lunch line one day and I got the last apple. I’m pretty sure he was like ‘leave it there or else,’ but I wasn’t worried ‘bout him. A bitch was hungry and I wasn’t about to starve at his expense. So like today he pinned me against the lockers. Lowkey thought he was about to eat my face off cause he was real close. I guess he was still hungry, but whatever. And he was like, ‘got nothing to say?’ And I was like ‘your breath stinks.’ And I handed him a mint. And then he punched me. In the jaw. And then he was like, ‘I can do a lot worse if you don’t shut up.’ I didn’t shut up. He punched me in my guts. I threw up in my mouth a little. Not gonna lie I wish he had hit me a bit harder so I could’ve thrown up on his new shoes. I’m pretty sure my shoulders are bruised too. He’s probably a kinky motherfucker in bed. He was like, an inch away from choking me now that I think about it.”
You shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your Dork Diaries book.
Alex and Kara both slowly blinked, trying to process your fast rambling.
“Hold on. You got beat up?”
“Mhmm.”
“You didn’t tell the teachers?”
“Nope.”
“So you sat in pain. All day.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Kara looked at you concerned.
“What about those self-defense moves Alex has been teaching you?”
You put your book down and gave them your full attention.
‘Well, when I thought about it, I was like ‘schools think my shoulders are too sexy and can be a distraction, so I can’t wear tank tops.’ I can’t blame them though. My shoulders are beautiful and apparently they give guys boners. Anyway, I was thinking, ‘if they’re so sexist when it comes to clothing, how far are they willing to take that?’ And the more I thought about it, I was like, ‘wait, that dude is like only 3 years younger than the youngest staff member. So what if he’s like paying them with sex or something?’ And then I thought about it some more, and started thinking of all the times he was late to class and his clothes and hair were messy. And that time when I caught him and the calculus teacher sneaking out of the bathroom. I could probably catch them in the act. That’d be great blackmail…”
You trailed off, starting to make a plan in your head.
“What was the point in telling us that?”
“Oh! I’m saying it’s hard for him to get in trouble. Like I’m pretty sure he’d convince some teacher that he’s innocent and that teacher would convince the principal he’s innocent and boom! I get suspended for no reason.”
Kara and Alex looked at each other, already knowing they had the same idea about this whole situation.
“Well, let’s just get you patched up and talk to mom about switching schools. I don’t know about you, Kara, but I don’t feel comfortable with you going back there.”
-
That same night, a special someone got a visit from Director Danvers and Supergirl. That same special someone also got their shoes burned to a crisp.
#supergirl#supergirl imagine#supergirl x reader#superfriends#superfriends x reader#kara danvers#kara danvers x reader#kara danvers x baby danvers#alex danvers#alex danvers x reader#alex danvers x baby danvers
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DSMP FanFic Recommendations I
So, a few days @nastiiuu did a nice Recommendation of a DSMP FanFic called Evermore. So, per request, here's a list of different DSMP Recommendations that I have from my History, Mark For Later, and from my Bookmarks! Sorry, @nastiiuu that it took me a while to get this up! But I hope you all enjoy!
Stay safe and I will put the Summaries and Tigger Warnings in as well!
So, I will start off with the one the @nastiiuu recommended a few days ago!
Evermore
Summary: Prince Theseus, a child of blonde and blue, a child of isolation and a crave for touch. He's the youngest in the Royal Family, and somehow the most forgotten. The most neglected. The most alone.
Tucked away in his tower, the young prince watches the world move on without him, watches his family welcome two new princes into their arms, and yet reject him when he cries desperately from nightmares or shivers from a painful wound.
"Wilby?" The child had murmured, all curious and hesitant at once. He was tucked in his older brother's lap, watching as his other sibling sparred with their father. "We'll always be together, right? Forever and ever?"
Wilbur smiled. "Of course, Tommy. Forever and ever."
The Hanahaki rising in young Theseus' throat says otherwise.
TW: Isolation, Hanahki Disease, Angst no happy ending, Character Death, Villain!Dream, Manuplation.
The Exchange: My Life for Yours: I'm still reading this one, I'm on chapter 17 and it's ssssssssooooooooo good right now!
Summary: Tommy was a liability. Too annoying and too loud.
Techno didn't care about this child.
"Unless of course, you want call on that favor"
"Ok"
Then why he suddenly did?
TW: Villain!Dream, Canon Diverse, Kidnapping, Demons/Dreamons, Demon!Dream, Dreamon!Dream, Isolation, Manipulation, "A Deal with the Devil."
The Inevitability of Change: I just got caught up with this one and oh my Ghoul! This is intense and so good! I can't wait for the update!
Summary: Fuck it, he was allowed to do this, it would be better for everyone else anyway. They could do whatever they wanted and he wouldn’t be in their way. He wouldn’t cause problems anymore and he could have the perfect life that he had always wanted.
The egg extended a blood vine out to him. "Do we have a deal?" There was a level of smugness that Tommy recognized all too well from all his wars with Dream, it was the sound of an opponent knowing they’d won.
“We do, you dumb ugly bitch.”
or
Tommyinnit hated change. He'd witnessed so many people he cared about in his life change and hardly ever for the better. He just wished things could go back to the way they were when he had everything he ever wanted, a loving family who cared about him, a best friend who was always by his side. He craves this so badly that he makes a deal with the egg to get everything he's ever wanted.
or or
Tommy becomes a coraline kinnie
TW: Derealization, Unreality, Manipulation, Child Abandonment, Violence (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters).
Ties of the Puppet
Summary: Tommy hates how his mind feels trapped at that moment with Tubbo. The look in his eyes one Tommy had been forced to see far too many times. Wilbur’s eyes.
or
Tommy struggles with the trauma of his life and unhealthy relationships, Wilbur tries his hand at redemption, Phil and Techno learn to heal what's been lost.
TW: Mental Health Issues, Violence, Abuse, Redemption Arc for Tubbo, Healing for Tommy/Phil/Techno, some of the characters will seem a little OOC, Canon Diverse.
Forged By Truth (Or the Lack there of)
Summary: After his escape from exile failed spectacularly, Tommy only needed to be reminded that Dream saved his life a few times before it starts to sink in. Once his exile can continue again far away from any more distractions, Dream proceeds with his plan to craft the perfect weapon.
TW: Manipulation, Mention of Character Death (Character doesn't really die but the other characters don't know that), Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Protégé AU, Tommy becomes Dream's Protégé, Angst, Whump.
Mask: I'm still working on this one but it's really, really, really good! A lot of Angst and Manipulation. So, please be careful when reading!
Summary: Dream knew Tommy was a naturally clingy child. That's why he found such satisfaction in having him exiled.
Dream didn't plan on Tommy clinging to him.
Dream was going to take advantage of the situation.
All Tommy needed was a bit of a push and then he would be completely broken.
Ready to be remodeled into the perfect weapon.
TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Attempted Suicide, Manipulation, Emotional and Mental Manipulation, Protégé AU, Broken!Tommy, Angst, Angst (possibly no happy ending but I'm not sure), Whump.
Lion's Cup, Tiger Stripes: I just finished this one and it's so good! Exile Arc but with a twist! Guest Appearances by Sad-ist, Late-August, Derivakat.
Summary: Tommy Innit knew what Dream was doing and was sure as hell not going through with it. So, by the third week of exile, as Dream starts to escalate his punishments, he leaves. One month later he runs into Purpled and hires him as a bodyguard while he travels.
Or Tommy runs away, stays in one village for a month to clear his head and decides to go travelling while dragging Purpled with him.
Or road trip pog.
TW: Angst, Angst with a happy, Found Family, Violence, Testing, Scares, Explosions (later chapters), I think that's all.
Valley of Serenity: This is a very long fic! It's about 60+ chapters so feel free to read in increments but this is a really good fic! Redemption Arc and Healing for the SBI Family!
Summary: After blowing up a nation, Wilbur throws a sword down at his father's feet and begs to be killed.
Phil, however, takes one look at the state of his children and decides he has other plans.
(post november 16th au where wilbur doesn't die. instead a family leaves the smp entirely, and learn how to live with each other again.)
"Fuck, I - I can't forgive either of you right now," Tommy says quietly. Despite the words, he hugs Wilbur tighter. "One day, though. I think one day I will."
"And we're still brothers, right?" Wilbur dares ask. Techno inhales sharply beside him.
They get a choked laugh in reply.
"Yeah. Brothers."
TW: Angst, Mention of wanting to die, Healing, a long road of healing, Mental Health Issues, Family Bonds, Angst but I think there is a happy ending, Violence, Mention of the L'Manburg exploding. Redemption Arc, Healing.
Breathing's Just A Rhythm: I finished this fic a few weeks ago and my ghoul! This is so good! Time Travel Fic with Dream, Schlatt, Tubbo, Tommy, and of course CHAT!
Summary: POGTOPIA??? WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?? TIMETRAVELBLADE. technotravel
“Chat, I did not time travel,” Techno said exhaustedly, “I don’t know what gave you that idea, but please calm yourselves.”
The voices started obnoxiously whispering at the top of their lungs. HE DOESN’T KNOW. PANIC
Or: Tommy, Tubbo, Jschlatt, and Dream all end up in the past. (Oh, and the Chat comes too) (mcd is a villain, this fic has a happy ending)
Or OR! Dream attempts to Time Travel in the past but winds only go back a few months ago during Pogtopia Area and he winds up bring a few unexpected victors with him! MEANWHILE: Karl is trying his damnest to fix everything with Time Travel Fiasco that Dream caused! B/C the Future selves and the past selves switched!
TW: Graphic Violence, Bodily harm (later chapters), Kidnapping (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters), Betrayal (later chapters I won't say who!), Isolation, Manipulations, Mental and Emotional Abuse, Trauma, Therapy (Finally these boys gets some), Good!Schlatt, Villain!Dream, Redemption Arc Wilbur and Schlatt.
I think I got them all?
Wrong Place for Redemption: This one of the stories that helped inspired Breathing is Just a Rhythm! Time Travel Fic!
Summary: -Previously titled Time Will Decide. Name taken from lyrics in 'A Sadness Runs Through Him' by The Hosiers
“Okay, why don’t you go see him.” Tommy didn’t know what he thought the afterlife was going to be like, hell he didn’t even know if it was a real thing. Maybe he’d see Wilbur, possibly Schlatt, but he didn’t expect to see a white castle and Karl.
Or where Tommy looses his final life to Dream in the prison only to be teleported back in time.
OR where Tommy is given a second chance and isn't going to blow it, not even if things start to get revealed (things that change everything) and discoveries are made.
This whole book has TW's: Child abuse, violence/murder, gore/blood, implied/referenced suicide, suicide, drinking, etc.
Parental Rights: Another good on going fic for me! Can you tell that I love some SBI/Found Family Fics here?
Summary: Sam wants to be there for Tommy. Wants to be his dad. Wants to be the one Tommy comes to when he's in trouble or excited over something. He'd happily legally adopt Tommy, but well... Tommy's actual father is in the way of that. Sam thought with how distanced Phil was with his son it would be easy to persuade him to give his parental rights over to Sam. But well... Tommy's stubbornness had to come from somewhere, right?
TW: Sleep Walking, Mentions of Exile, Healing Arc for Tommy, Healing Arc for Sam, Healing Arc for Tubbo, SBI, Healing Arc for Techno.
Allium: This is still on going, but oh man! This is getting really good!
Summary: What if Dreams plan for the Disc War finale had worked?
Tubbo dead, Tommy in the prison, SMP under his control. Allium Ashes.
TW: Major Character Death, Ghostbo (Ghost Tubbo), Manipulation, Isolation, Imprisonment, Prisoner Innit, Making someone believe they are responsible for something they didn't do, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission.
And How Can I Compete (With The World At Your Feet): God AU and this is really Fangtastic! Rated M for Graphic Violence and Attempted Sacrifice.
Summary: Tommy has been kept away from the world and held captive for four years, and now he’s about to be used as a sacrifice to a god. A blood god, to be specific. The Blood God. But, instead of accepting his captor’s sacrifice, the Blood God is in debt to Tommy. And he’s going to save him.
A universe where Technoblade, Wilbur, and Phil are all gods who have become quite protective of a mortal fifteen year old without a home.
This concept was based on a text post I saw, I think! I can’t find it anymore, but if you see it let me know!
TW: Blood, Violence, Attempted Sacrifice, Villain!Dream, Villain!BadBoyHalo, Occult Setting, God AU, Blood God!Techno, Angel of Death!Philza, God!Wilbur, Angel!Tubbo, Angel!Ranboo.
Death's Forest: This is a nice little One-Shot for the SBI, and Dadza fans! Set during Tommy's Exile. Don't worry! Dadza to the rescue!
Summary: “Can I see him?” Phil asks, blinking owlishly, as if he’s simply just asking. As if he’s not holding a threat behind those light words.
“Don’t push your limits.” Dream responds, and Phil only smiles with a slow nod.
The next day, Dream wishes he had answered differently.
Or
Phil isn’t quite human. He wants to visit Tommy during exile.
TW: I don't think there's any TW here, but if there is, please let me know!
Prince Theseus: Royal AU! Hybrid Tommy. Prince Tommy (Theseus).
Summary: Prince Theseus Craft of the Anartitic Empire, A child who could bring joy to anyone's day left to be forgotten by his family left to spend his days in his tower with nothing but his Maid and dear friend as company
Left to watch his older brothers laugh and smile as his father looks at them with love and the eyes of a proud parent he never saw directed to him, watch them both receive the love he craved so desperately from his father. Left him to envy his brothers yet grow jealous as that jealousy turns to a small flame of hatred growing steadily as time passes leaving him to make his final decision.
No longer will he be known as Theseus but as the Amazing Tommyinnit who could do anything who will prove his former family wrong and show he is better than what they think.
Which leads him to where he is now, a runaway prince who finds a new family brought together by hardship and their love of traveling the endless seas.
AKA :
16 yr old Prince Theseus changes his name to Tommyinnit and runs away from his royal family who neglected him and finds a real family on a ship who just so happened to be pirates as well.
TW: Isolation, Mention of a Minor Character Death, Running Away, Royal AU, Hybrid Tommy, SBI, Neglect, Pirates, Found Family, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Magic.
Therapy Marriage: Okay, I'm adding this one for some Wholesomeness, and Fluff with some Angst but there should be a Happy Ending!
Summary: but for some reason, tubbo (and possibly ranboo, although he doubted this was his idea) had got it into his head that tommy needed therapy or some shit.
which, fine, maybe he had a little bit of an issue. he did freak out at damage, and weapons, and he had reached out to puffy, but he was okay! he didn’t need tubbo to pity him.
but- here was where the weird part came in- tubbo wanted tommy in his marriage.
TL:DR Tubbo wants to help Tommy and decides that the best method is by marrying him as well. Ranboo just goes along with it.
*****
Okay, this post has gotten very long! I do apologize for that! So, I'll add others to another Post!
#nastiiuu#fanfic recommenation#dsmp#dream smp fanfiction#dreams smp fanfic#ao3#dsmp fanfic recommendations#long post
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A Floral Memoir | Yang Jeongin
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
Genre: Nostalgic, drama, bittersweet, angst, fluff ending
Pairing: Yang Jeongin x fem!reader
Au: Flower shop au, friends to lovers au
Word Count: ~3.9k
Warning(s): None! c:
A/N: This was supposed to just be a blurb/timestamp but I’ve been heavily influenced by fictional prose from my Fiction 101 class so...this happened. :D | Masterlist linked down below and in bio!!! <3 | For Nana, who loves Yang Jeongin; and, for all the wonderful writers of @skzwriternet. Thank you all for being so supportive and kind. God bless. 🎔
Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17 @distrikt9 @hanstagrams @hyunsunq @smolboiseavey @jisungsjheekies @iluvlix @moonlit-han @stay-nctzen @yangomangos @stayndays @cotccotc @skzctnightnight @multi-stan-present @dreamy-dreamies @yunhoesss (If you’d like to be added, please let me know! Comment, ask, or DM me!!! ^^)
ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ--ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
There’s this flower shop down the road from your house that you’re used to going to. It’s one of those hole-in-the-wall places, the kind that never stand out unless you’re actively looking for them. The brick’s chipped, covered in vines, and the sign out front is hanging by a stem, the slanted posture threatening to drop dead over the next teenager that pursues vandalism; still, to you it’s never unrecognizable, no matter how many years of wear-and-tear or lost du jour go by. To you, it’s the most beautiful place in the world: not for what is shown on the outside, but for what lies there within. What it stands for, represents.
This is the local flower shop of 129 Poppy Close Lane. And it is the place you grew up in, blooming alongside Yang Jeongin.
Jeongin had been your best friend growing up. The two of you did almost everything together: ride bikes, watch movies, play in the park. Feed the ducks, hop around like frogs, climb trees. Hide in your mother’s laundry basket in order to jump out and scare the daylights out of her-- which only backfired once when she nearly had a heart attack-- to which you vowed never to do ever again. Instead, the two of you set your sights on the neighbor’s son, a boy of roughly similar age named Kim Seungmin. But that always seemed to backfire as well. Kim Seungmin was simply too smart.
The day Innie’s parents-- that was your nickname for him, sometimes I.N.-- the day his parents announced they’d be buying out a crumbling furniture store, the two of you had been so excited. Think of all the beds you could jump on! All the sofas to tackle! The pillow fights! The two of you could make the largest blanket fort in the history of blanket fortresses!!!
...Instead, those dreams were crushed like petals pressed between pages. You weren’t getting a mattress playground; they were opening a flower store.
A flower store? But aren’t flowers free? Don’t they grow outside? The two of you prodded and pestered Jeongin’s parents until they ran out of answers to give, and instead only replied with “you’ll see” and “just wait.” But if there was one thing the two of you hated doing, it was waiting. Why did you have to? Wait for what?
...Time flies when you eventually forget about the thing it is you have to wait around for, too occupied curling toes beneath blankets by a roaring fire or towering blocks into Lego houses. After a few days of lazing around with Jeongin at your house and a short afternoon bike ride through the park, at last the shop of flowers was revealed to you. And it...was…
...Okay. Colorful, vibrant, definitely eye-catching, at least back in those just-starting-out days. But you still didn’t get it at the tender age of ten. Of course you’d heard of flower stores before, but the point escaped you. Couldn’t you just grow your own for free? Couldn’t you just ride to the park and take some from the woods? Why would you sell something you could obtain for free? Who would waste their allowance on that?
Jeongin was different. You remember looking over at him, standing to your right, and seeing his face alive and bursting with more color than the shopfront. The way his eyes sparkled as he took it all in, the pride that seemed to blossom in his smile and the way he carried himself. Straight, tall, and happy, just like the sunflowers waving outside the window. It was off-putting to say the least, but you felt gratified just watching him elate and gush his excitement. So you upheld that same excitement, too.
Years went by of the two of you hanging out in that place; Little Fox Flowers, it was called. Appropriately named for the son of the two owners who spent their days happily snipping away sadness and making the lives of all its customers just a bit brighter. A place where all the local college-bound kids would apply for part-time jobs in order to live out their novel fantasies, hoping for a quiet place to smell the roses after a long day of notetaking and hide behind the hollyhock to study.
They were always kindly denied. After all, the shop was a family business: just Mr. and Mrs. Yang, Jeongin, and you, who had been considered the daughter they never had since you were six. And, eventually, Kim Seungmin, who won everyone over with cake and the “look-at-how-responsible-I-am” presentation. He was responsible, no one could deny: the way he’d always turn you and Jeongin in before you could commence danger-inducing experiments.
And then, at fourteen, it was the three of you. You got paid, of course-- just scarcely minimum wage, but that was alright, because Mr. and Mrs. Yang always bought you lunch or dinner every other Friday. And the mean apple pie and best empanadas baked by the kind elderly couple who worked just across the street was to die for. (A side note: you’d find out two years later this was the place Kim Seungmin got his cake recipe from in exchange for helping fix a leaky faucet. The devious scoundrel.) The three of you worked and worked and studied and worked, spending perhaps too much time learning the wildest things about each other, things you were surprised you never knew of Jeongin, things you’d never guess about Kim Seungmin (you didn’t refer to him as just Seungmin until you were sixteen).
Jeongin was a fan of rock music. Kim Seungmin enjoyed more than a good book and ratting out his neighbors. Jeongin actually studied flowers in his free time, more than just what he learned passively working in a floral shop. Kim Seungmin was actually a prankster himself.
They learned things about you as well: how you preferred sunrises to sunsets, how you collected music boxes, how you kept a diary the two of them would never get to read, and now that they knew about it, were no longer or henceforth ever allowed in your room. This brought joy and laughter the color of fresh-sprung poppies to their faces...and a curious tint of rosehip to the cheeks of Yang Jeongin.
You distinctly remember the way he stared at you, two seconds too long before he looked away, to the flower arrangement before him, a smile never leaving his face. Spooked, you buried yourself back behind the front desk, occasionally peeking at his reflection through the storefront window.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
At seventeen you’re all sweating bullets over SATs and TCIs and ACTs and every other stress-fueled test that exists in the better education realm. The three of you are taking turns quizzing each other and flicking foreheads or slapping wrists after getting an answer wrong. When the owners announce they’re heading home to finish up errands and get dinner started, you take turns in the final few store hours managing the front desk: two cramming backstage, one holding the reins out front. It’s in solitude that Seungmin tells you he’s decided to go to Harvard University, and possibly Yale if he finishes with a 4.1 GPA. At this you want to smack him, but at the same time, tell him not to go. It wouldn’t break your heart to see him go, but what’s wrong with your local university? Or a university just an hour out of town?
He tells you it’s something he’s always wanted, and heartily decided, so you take his hand in yours and wish him the best. It’s not a problem; Harvard and Yale aren’t too far away.
The real problem arises when they switch, and with Seungmin running the front desk and helping late-blooming customers, it’s Jeongin who tells you he won’t be going to college at all. “I’ve decided to travel,” he says. “I want to explore new cultures. I want to hear other kinds of music. I want to see other types of flowers.”
At this, you deadpan. Blink a few times, just to make sure that registered. “You...want to leave the country?”
“It’ll sort of be like studying abroad-- hey, maybe that’s what I’ll do. Study abroad. I’ll be able to see lots of things that way. There’s a program that can accept me right away if I apply before midnight.”
“Jeongin…”
You frown. You can’t help it. Jeongin? Leaving you behind? You aren’t about to lose both of your best friends; especially not Jeongin, who to you was Innie, I.N., the boy with the messy black hair and slightly bad attitude, and many other things.
His stare says everything for him, his smile drooping like perennial flowers. “You don’t like the idea.”
It’s not a question; it’s a statement. “That’s not true. I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to.”
He gets up, leaving the room. There’s an odd sense of finality as he exits.
“...I’m gonna see if Seungmin needs any help.”
“......”
You wince a little, even today, recalling the way he soft-slammed the back door. It was the last time you saw him, for the span of three long years.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
It goes by too fast. Before you know it, you’ve reached the big two-O. Twenty is that odd age where you’re not sure about anything. Are you an adult? Are you still a kid? What age group do you fit into? What are you even doing with your life?
You’d chosen to major in botanical science. The flowers of the shop had ended up placing their roots into you. And being the sentimental gal that you were, you could never find yourself tearing away from your roots-- it was how flowers wilted and died.
So when Yang Jeongin reappeared on the shop porch one morning, looking fresh as a daisy, you could hardly believe your eyes. He must have been put in one heck of a vase of Miracle Grow and holy water to have survived away from the garden for so long. At first, you’re ecstatic to see him-- at first. But then you remember what he did to you: the way he just walked out of the breakroom, clocking out without you noticing, not answering your texts, ignoring your calls, only to find out the next day he’s insanely hopped onto the morning train and booked a flight for Beijing. Part of a study program, his parents said. Very last minute, they explained. We’re so sorry, they lamented.
The only means of contact you’d received were a cloying box of exotic chocolates and a note from Jeongin that first year, along with a music box you couldn’t bring yourself to ever listen to. It ended up thrown into your closet, shadowed in a great tub with all the other ones. The note said something along the lines of an apology and explained he’d lost his phone during a boat ride that first week, and the strict program he was enrolled in didn’t allow him to contact friends; only immediate family. He’d had to lie to his advisors and tell them you were his adopted sister, which you suppose wouldn’t have been a lie once upon a time. After that, you’d only get an awkward “Jeongin says hello,” from his parents, who felt just as uncomfortable about the estranged situation. They’d assure you he was doing well and just going through a phase. He was angry. He acted irrationally, just the one time. They knew how important this was to him. He’d come back around, he really cared for you, after all.
Seeing him now made your head spin. You had to grip the cash register nailed into the hardwood so you wouldn’t fall over. “You’re...You’re back. You’re here. In the shop.”
He dropped his bags near the front door as if the place was his second home. Just like it always had been. “I’m back. Here. In the shop,” he repeated, an urgent longing in his actions.
The smile he wore never left his face as he rushed over to you...then paused, fearfully, his hands frozen in an awkward state of half-reaching and half-retreating.
“Y/n…” He sighed, his breath a multitude of years lost. “...I’m sorry. I have no right to walk in here like nothing happened. You have every right to be angry. Are you angry?”
That was a good question. Were you angry? You should have been. You had every right to be, just like he said. This may have been his family’s store, but it was your second home, too, and you may as well have been a part of the family; you had every right ignore him or tell him to get out, to scream and demand answers, or even to cry and weep like the weeping willow tree out back.
Instead, you felt nothing. And everything. It was too much, so much strange emotion and Twilight Zone madness packed into a single punch that you smiled and simply replied, “I’m fine. How can I help you today?”
It came out sounding like you were the one asking for help. Jeongin seemed to catch wind of this too, distressed eyes staring into yours as if seeking a hidden entrance through the new roadblock to your mind. For the longest time, the two of you didn’t say anything.
Things got really awkward when Seungmin showed up on one of his monthly visits-- he ended up going to Harvard, but he still visited you every month and bothered to keep in touch-- and sensing the tension after a surprised gasp of excitement, uncomfortably shuffled to the back of the room with the excuse he’d get to work on the shop’s monthly revenue, assisting with the finances as part of his accountant training (a side gig to his major in criminal law). What resulted with the silent clicking of the door was the clicking of your own.
You clocked out, texting Seungmin the location of the shop’s spare key and asking him to do you this one favor. Then to meet you downtown for a slice. As you swung onto the Vespa your parents had given you on your nineteen birthday, you observed Jeongin, in the shop’s reflection, through the rearview mirror, as he stood there, absorbing and deploring his loss.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
It’s now midday, a few months later, and you haven’t seen or spoken to Yang Jeongin since. Even if he did live down the street, in your mind he’d been cast from the garden, turned into fertilizing soil. He hadn’t tried to contact you since, and neither had you found yourself hovering over the call option, only to toss the phone away with an agitated moan. You didn’t know how to overcome the foreign distance between you two, or at least you hadn’t...until today.
Today, well, you still didn’t really know how to go about it. But despite your temporary closure to any and all things Yang Jeongin, you did a lot of thinking about that day, when he’d just shown up out of nowhere, sprouting like the happiest weed on the planet, fearfully trying to patch things up. It wasn’t forced or out of pity or selfish guilt. It was as true as the blue roses you’ve had to convince more than a few customers were not spray-painted or artificially made. Jeongin had made a big, unlike-Jeongin mistake, one lasting far too long, but it was still the first (and last; you’d be sure of that). There had to be more to the story than what appeared above the ground.
You should never judge a rose for its petals, Mrs. Yang once told you. It may still be blooming.
You’re parking your bike in its usual place in front of the store, locking it to the bike rack Mr. Yang had installed-- your Vespa got destroyed while letting Seungmin take it for a joyride-- and you push open the familiar glass door, the sweet chime of the old silver bell singing overhead. Jeongin looks up at you from around a middle-aged man at the register, his voice falling an octave late.
“Welcome i-- ...n.”
It’s that same awkward tension all over again, but you try to smile through it, for friendship’s sake. After holding open the door for the parting customer, you make sure the door is locked before nervously wringing your hands halfway to the counter.
Jeongin takes your actions in alarm, bracing himself against the register as you had just a few months prior. Funny how times change. “...What’s going on? What are you gonna do?”
...As if you were going to rob or beat him. You’d thought about doing so with one of the giant sunflowers, three month before, but would never risk harm to the flower. “I…” A sigh. “...Can we talk?”
There’s an arrangement waiting for pickup or delivery sitting at the edge of the counter. Jeongin stares intently at the wooden space before casting his gaze to the flowers. He lifts them, crossing the bouquet over his face to the other side. You’re not entirely sure what he’s doing until he hands the bundle to you. “I can’t leave the shop right now...could you make this delivery for me? The address is on the tag.”
“......” You accept the bouquet awkwardly. “...Uh, yeah, sure.”
“I’ll clock you in, so you get paid.”
“No...don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.”
He nods, slowly, just barely managing an unstable means of eye contact. “...Thanks.”
And so you walk out of the store, unlocking the door and hopping onto the shop’s delivery vehicle. It’s more a less like a Vespa, just older and a bit outdated. Securing the flowers in the protective shell container (a basket with a clear, wind-resistant lid), you snapped on the helmet and started the engine, making a hard right into the street.
It occurs to you as you're driving that you didn’t bother to look at the address in your haste to escape an uncomfortable situation gone wrong. So much for talking things out and tackling your problems head-on. That really worked out well. You squint beneath the afternoon glare reflecting off the lid, but the address is written so tiny and messily you have to pull over and open the basket in order to get a better look.
279 Blueberry Street.
You just about dropped those flowers, gripping them a bit too tight so that a few stray thorns poked your fingers. 279 Blueberry Street was...well.
It was Jeongin’s address.
...You had no idea what was going on, but intuition told you it was something fishy, something planned and arranged just as carefully as this cliché arrangement of red roses and baby’s breath. Typical and predictable, just like the old Yang Jeongin.
You’d bite. You drove the scooter across town and into your neighborhood, parking in the drive behind Mr. Yang’s Nissan. You remember taking many car trips around town and into neighboring cities in the backseat, Jeongin at your side, dropping fries and Cheerios and frozen yogurt all over the protective mats and onto each other. With a frustrated huff, you scurry to the front porch.
Maybe this is a crazy coincidence. Maybe Mr. Yang ordered flowers for his wife. Maybe Mrs. Yang got flowers for her husband. Maybe they both ordered them for Jeongin, as part of a gift to commemorate something you were once, for the first time in your life, unaware of. Or maybe you’d read the address wrong. Maybe it was Bluebell Street or Bellberry Street or something entirely different, and you were delusionally tripping because, hah, what else had been new over the course of the past few months...few years. Maybe...maybe--
A warm light envelops you as the door swings open, and you’re instantly hit with the nostalgic scent of fresh lavender and spring-time strawberries. The candles that Mrs. Yang loves to buy.
Jeongin’s eyes are strained, but there’s a new warmth about them that feels familiar. Like a withered blossom sprouting back to life. He’s no longer dressed in his work apron and usual uniform; instead he’s freshly showered, wearing Church clothes, his dark hair still wet and tangled to a messy frame around his face. There’s a comb stuck to the back of his head, and following your stare he removes it with a sheepish chuckle, tossing it somewhere towards the living room and attempting to tame wild curls in a more presentable manner. He smiles, tenderly.
“You made it...I was worried you’d think it was a mean joke.”
“Well…” You consider. “I almost did. But there are infinite possibilities out there, right?”
His smile blooms. Taking the smallest rose, he checks it for thorns before tucking it behind your ear. “Yeah,” he says, “There definitely are. Come in, please...there’s a lot of things I need to apologize for. Starting with the whole disappearing for three years and...yeah.”
You supplement his cringe with a frown, then thinking about the ridiculous letter, imagine him beneath flickering candlelight, frantically scrawling down a horrifically worded letter in secrecy. You think about him in Barcelona nervously pacing between bustling touristy streets and getting lost or ripped off and wanting to scream at the stupidity of his actions and lack of Spanish. You imagine him in a woodshop in Berlin, flipping through a dictionary and pointing to words he can’t begin to pronounce and the amount of frustration cooked up from having to go through five woodsmiths until he found one that spoke just a bit of a broken language he understood, and the funny game of Pictionary that probably followed.
You laugh, shoving his shoulder on the way in and hurrying into the kitchen for a vase. After placing the display on the counter, you grab his collar, kissing his cheek.
His face burns the shade of chrysanthemums, wide eyes wondering what it was he did to deserve such a reaction. To you, he had more or less abandoned you, after all.
But you know better. You’ve known Yang Jeongin since you were five years old; when he knocked over a bottle of glue onto your summer dress after trying to hand you the paper flower he’d made. When things seem bad, they’re never personally intended. They’re never what they really seem. And you should have remembered that, too.
He spins you around now, and the two of you laugh, laughter echoing down the cream-colored halls all the way to the back garden. Back to a simpler time; a time when the two of you were just kids, pushing each other on the big oak swing and tackling each other in mud, smiling amongst the flowers.
There’s this flower shop down the road from your house that you’re used to going to. It’s one of those hole-in-the-wall places, the kind that never stand out unless you’re actively looking for them. The brick’s chipped, it’s covered in vines, and the sign out front is hanging by a stem.
It’s the place where you and Yang Jeongin reside, never again apart, for the rest of your days. ✿
ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ
#skzwriternet#yang jeongin#stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fanfics#stray kids short stories#yang jeongin imagines#yang jeongin scenarios#yang jeongin fanfiction#yang jeongin fanfics#stray kids yang jeongin#stray kids i.n.#skz yang jeongin#skz jeongin#stray kids fluff#stray kids angst#stray kids flower shop au#yang jeongin flower shop au#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop fanfiction#kpop flower shop au#yang jeongin fluff#yang jeongin angst#kim seungmin#skz#flower shop au#skz imagines
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Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 5
AO3
Beta reader was @thesnadger!
Some thoughts on where to go next.
Martin is as helpful as he can be.
Their business finished, Jon and Martin exchanged a friendly “See you tomorrow” and went their separate ways. Jon turned on his heel and took the first turn out of sight. Martin, still holding his groceries, pressed his head against a nearby building and said under his breath, “God, you’re predictable. Smiles at you once and you’re done for. Must be a record.”
It had been a nice smile, though. Maybe at some point he would get to see a non-nervous one, the kind where the person’s face seems to open up like- No, he was not going to fall into poetic daydreaming, not this soon. Good lord.
He stood up straight, fixing his hair and checking for any witnesses. With the coast clear, he started the long walk home. It was fine. Martin wasn’t a complete idiot. He would accept the good news that Jon didn’t despise him and would roll with it, trying his best not to muck it up with more stupid mistakes. Then, with either their time used up or the investigation completed, all three of them would be gone.
The thought struck him hard, and Martin almost stumbled from the emotional whiplash. It had been, what, a day and a half? Surely not long enough to miss them that much, especially the person who had only just started being nice to him ten minutes ago. But Martin knew himself better than that.
Jon had been nice, just as Tim and Sasha had been nice, and he was going to miss the company when they had to leave. It was natural to feel sad about it, he told himself, but eventually their leaving would be a relief. The one-sided affection would have no room for hoping or growing otherwise. At the same time, he might as well enjoy the company of interesting people. Interesting people who wanted to help him, even! Jon had said he’d wanted to work together to figure things out, so that’s what Martin would try to do.
As long as it didn’t get him fired. As long as nothing they did fucked over any chance of employment. As long as his place of work didn’t eat him out of a hunger for vengeance.
Pushing those sour thoughts deep into the back of his consciousness, Martin focused on the morning’s events the rest of the way home. Plans of action formed in his mind, most of them related to the task at hand, a few needing to be waved away as wishful thinking. There was work to be done.
It took quite a bit of digging through crumpled and disorganized paperwork he’d saved from many unsuccessful attempts at employment, but after lunch, Martin sat on his bed with his original work contract. At the bottom was the signature of Peter Lukas, and in the bottom left corner was the stamped Lukas family crest, which Martin had seen every day on a small plaque adorning the lighthouse interior, right over his desk.
It was a simple and rather generic image of a black and white shield, framed by an albatross and a laughably inaccurate seal that Martin couldn’t help but gawk at years after he’d first seen it. He wondered if the artist responsible had had to work with someone telling them what a seal looked like from memory or if the family just hadn’t cared too much for accuracy. Based on the strange ideas Peter would spout at times of how the ocean worked, Martin would bet on the latter. Maybe the whole family was just like that?
Either way, it was equal parts ridiculous and unnerving as it lurked over Martin’s shoulder during the work day but didn’t have much use to him otherwise. He was no expert on symbolism and there was nothing he could see that would relate the crest to the task at hand.
Martin leafed through the work contract, glazing over benefits and salary before stopping on the section labeled “Employee Assignments and Other Expected Duties”.
“Sec. III. The employee agrees to the following non-exhaustive list of duties:
-Be present at the premises between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm, Monday through Friday, including lunch break. -Complete bookkeeping for the employer, Mr. Peter Lukas, using materials delivered to the premises on Monday morning. Delivery will always be completed by the employee's set arrival time at 6am. If nothing is delivered, contact the main house for further instruction to procure materials. -Clean the interior of the premises at regular intervals, including the main entrance, bathroom, kitchen, and upper floors. -Between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm, complete the maintenance list of the top floor (see Sec. IV). This must be completed once every day of the week, including Saturday and Sunday, between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm. There is a zero-tolerance policy for lack of completion. -Inform unexpected visitors of the proper procedure for scheduling a paid tour of the premises (See Sec. V) -Accept packages and sign for if necessary.
Martin looked over the list, biting his cheek. He’d grown lax on staying until 4pm, but with Peter’s general lack of awareness, it had never come up. Otherwise, the duties seemed in line with what he remembered. He looked down to Section IV.
“As referred to in Sec. III, the employee will complete the following tasks during the hours of 6 am and 4 pm every day, including Saturday and Sunday:”
Following this was the list he had long ago written down and taped to his desk. There were no details relating to the purpose of each task, just procedure. He’d kept to the instructions consistently, every switch flipped and seemingly-pointless button pressed, though he’d been very close to missing the 4pm mark on several occasions because of the dreaded walk to the top. This list, again, wasn’t much help. He went over the document a few times then set it aside and flopped onto his back, scattering some loose papers to the floor.
He’d need to find some other angle. Research was a non-starter for him without experience, and as far as his town knowledge was concerned, it wasn’t wrong to call him forgetful in that area as well. It was likely he’d have to accept his part as an amateur tour guide. It didn’t feel like enough, but starting Monday, he’d be back to working and have no time to help anyway, unless their work somehow kept them late into the night.
Jon had been nice with all the working-together talk, but Martin knew he wouldn’t be of much use at all. If he wanted to be helpful, he should begin prepping for dinner.
-
As evening turned to night, Martin and his mother sat at the dining room table in silence, interrupted only by the light clinking of plates and utensils as they finished the pan-fried chicken and vegetables in front of them. Weekends were always better meal days, always leaving Martin feeling more satisfied with his cooking with all the time he had to focus on it. His mother showed no greater signs of enjoyment than eating without complaint.
“Mum, can I ask you something?” Martin ran his thumb against the smooth metal of his fork. “It’s about work.”
Martin’s mother paused from eating another bite of her meal. “What is it?” she asked, frowning.
Swallowing hard, Martin said, “How much have you had to deal with the Lukas family? There’s this research project being completed and it’s involving a lot of history, so I thought since you’ve lived here so long-”
“Long enough, yes.” Martin could see her nostril twitch. “They came in long before I did and will most likely stay until the fish run out. Otherwise, I kept to my business and they kept to theirs. No reason to get involved with people who wouldn’t bother walking down the hills on foot.”
“Right, it’s just-”
“I don’t feel like talking, Martin,” she said, her voice cracking slightly at his name. “My throat is too sore.”
“Right. Okay, I’ll get you some more water.” He picked up her glass to refill and bit back any other questions. Next to the sink was his mother’s pill case with the current day’s compartment still full. “We’ll get your meds done now, then. Should help a bit.” His mother didn’t respond, having already returned to her dinner.
Afterwards, she requested to step outside. “The night air is good for my lungs,” she argued as a matter of fact, and with no way to dissuade her, Martin completed their little ritual of walking out the door and standing in the fog-filled night in silence, his own face covered in an old scarf. His eyes watered in the dry, salty gale, and he wondered how much time it had taken for his mother to withstand the sting without any tears.
-
By mid-morning the next day, Martin had finished his duties upstairs. Sitting at the table, he listened to the group’s progress from after he had left them the day before. Spread across the table were photocopies of what looked like legal documents, some of the bare spots between them filled with used mugs of varying sizes.
“We weren’t able to stay there for long before it closed, but we were able to look up some records at the library yesterday,” Sasha explained, sifting through the papers. “Not a terrible archive, all things considered. We’re going to head there again tomorrow morning for a more in-depth look. We didn’t even get to looking for details on the construction of this place.”
“But!” Tim waved one of the copies above his head. “We did get some info on the Lukases themselves. Current residents in town, major stakeholders, that kind of stuff. And-” He pressed the sheet close to Martin’s face. It was a copy (of a copy) of a newspaper article featuring the lighthouse, with some figures standing at the entrance, including one Peter Lukas. “Martin, d’you know anything about the person who worked here before you? He’s one of the younger ones in the family, standing on the left.”
Martin scratched the back of his neck, squinting at the photo. “A bit? Evan Lukas, he was really nice from what I’d heard.”
Tim frowned, lowering his arm. “‘Was’?”
“Yeah, he passed away before I started working here. Peter said it was some heart thing. Runs in the family.” Tim slumped. “Sorry! I’m surprised the records didn’t say so. It was a pretty big deal, really shook people. It made the front page, though I never read the details.”
“Did you ever meet him?” Jon asked, tapping on the rim of his empty mug.
“Sort of? We went to school around the same time and were only a few years apart, which was weird since you wouldn’t expect him to go to a state school with a family like that? Anyway, that was years ago, but even after that you’d hear about him. He was gone for a while, actually, but somehow he ended up in this old place a few years back and, well, y’know.” Martin rubbed his hands.
“Hmmm.” Tim leaned back in his chair, flipping a pencil between his fingers. “Okay, well, that’s one person we probably can’t talk to outside of spookier means. Is there anyone who knew him well?”
Pausing for a moment, Martin said, “I think… no, yeah, he was engaged, but his fiancée left town pretty soon after he died. Don’t know anything about her except she wasn’t a local.” Silence stretched over them as Tim sat in his disappointment
“Well, shit,” Tim let out in an overblown sigh. Sasha patted Tim’s shoulder in sympathy. He grinned at her. “That’s all I’ve got, then. Time to call it a day?” he asked, earning himself a pinch on the ear.
“We’ll just have to go over the items we have until tomorrow,” Jon said, his sigh brimming with exhaustion. “Who knows, we might’ve missed something the first time. Before that, Martin, who was the person we missed yesterday? Would they be worth talking to?”
Hesitating, Martin responded, “Maybe? But if you’ve already got a way to look up historical stuff, it might be better to skip this one.” Jon raised an eyebrow at him and his stomach dropped at the attention.
“It’s just, he’s an eccentric person, difficult to track down, and while he knows the Lukas family pretty well, it’s only because their families do business. His family, the Fairchilds, they’re not a huge family in this town, but this guy, Simon, he’s, well. He’s this small, old man, right?” Martin tapped his foot, looking for something to say to end his babbling. “And you know the cliff behind the lighthouse? It’s got at least 150 meters straight down to sea?” The three nodded, and Martin smiled, his brows furrowed.
“Years ago, he dove right off the damned thing.”
-
Tim gaped over the railing, his breath floating over the edge. Sasha and Jon gaped slightly less, and from a safer distance, though that didn’t seem to save Jon from the effects of the harsh, cold wind that sent him shivering through a nothing of a windbreaker. Far below the cliff’s edge, down past the wind-worn rock and smattering of trees, through a thin layer of fog that cradled the seaside, there waited an incredibly harsh landing of sea and stone.
“But there’s a fuckload of rocks down there?” Tim sputtered.
Martin kept his gaze straight forward. “Yeah.”
“And even if he just hit water, I mean-”
“Made it out just fine.”
“And you were thinking of just skipping this guy? I don’t care if he’s unhelpful, I want to see if he can fly or something.” Tim stepped from the safety rails, giving one a good pat.
Sasha crossed her arms, eyeing the drop. “Do you know where we can find him?”
Martin scratched his face. “Most of the time he comes here to see Peter for business. Peter absolutely hates it since it’s usually out of nowhere, and Simon always claims he does it because he likes surprises, but I think he just likes to be irritating. Otherwise…” Turning to look at the lighthouse, Martin said, “I do know where Simon lives, and while I can’t guarantee he’ll want to speak to you about anything specific, he definitely loves to talk.”
“Is there anything he’s said to you about the Lukas family? Or the building?” Jon looked at Martin intently, clearly doing his best to not shiver.. “Anything that might’ve seemed like nothing more than gossip or reminiscing?”
With Jon staring at him, Martin’s brain sputtered to a stop. “I-I don’t think so? Like I said, he’s eccentric, so it’s hard to pick apart anything he says as being sincere or as a joke. He told me he was once a firebreather, and I still don’t know if I believe him. Sorry, I know that’s not super helpful.” Martin rubbed the back of his neck.
Jon relaxed his gaze, his corner of his mouth quirking down just a little. “It’s all right. If we can get a hold of him, we’ll ask him some simple questions and hopefully sift through any confusion. Right now, we can all stop giving ourselves vertigo and get back inside. It’s freezing out here.” Jon made a show of shoving his hands under his arms and walked back to the lighthouse.
“Poor guy’s circulation is shot, honestly. Could get hypothermia walking into a basement,” Tim teased behind his hand, not bothering to lower his voice as he leaned toward Sasha and Martin.
“Ha. Very funny.” Jon sent a withering glare over his shoulder and slipped indoors. They followed him back inside, and while the other three sat to discuss possible interview questions, Martin got another round of tea going. He had to have some of those to-go paper coffee cups somewhere in these cupboards, but no amount of looking revealed them. Instead, he managed to find one lonely travel mug and contemplated his options.
Would it be too obvious? Would Jon consider it him joining in on the teasing? At the thought of Jon stubbornly standing outside in a too-thin jacket, Martin resigned himself to whatever reaction he would receive. Either way, he'd get something warm in Jon’s hands so the little pang in his chest would go away.
When Martin brought him the mug, Jon looked suspicious but didn’t complain.
#tma#the magnus archives#breathe in the salt#martin blackwood#jonathan sims#sasha james#timothy stoker#peter lukas#jonmartin#fanfic#au fanfic#selkie au
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The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like” Part 4
Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5
Your Birthday
“Look at him, parading like a rooster!” Emma elbows you, huffing.
The Joker is on the terrace, nosing inside the coolers to find his favorite grape juice brand since he knows it should be in there somewhere. He’s sporting very dark purple pants and a much lighter shade purple shirt, fitted on his body to perfection plus two gold chains around his neck which makes one wonder why he didn’t add more giving his sense of fashion.
You pile up some fruits on your plate, gazing The Clown’s way with a smirk:
“Those trousers make his butt stand out.”
“That’s probably the reason for wearing them,” Emma sighs and you both burst up laughing, amused at the truth she admitted aloud.
“I feel this lustful desire of spanking him,” you blur out. “I bet your dad only unbuttoned half of his shirt because he obviously wants me to unbutton the other half: that sexy rooster can frizzle my feathers anytime he wishes,” you tease and she covers your mouth in a hurry.
“Y/N, can you not?!”
“Sssttt, you’ll wake up the baby,” the muffled sentence distracts Emma and she lets go, apologizing to the five weeks old:
“Oh, sorry angel,” she lingers over the baby basket placed on the empty table next to the self-serve buffet: Frost’s son is napping under the umbrella while his parents mingle for a little bit with the guests that already arrived at your birthday party. How did Jonny end up here? The crazy motive: his employer is to blame for the mess he created one hour ago, already fixed due to your sense of urgency.
The Joker showed up in time at 3pm for his “date” like you instructed; you opened the door and he immediately handed you a car sit containing the tiny human.
“Happy Birthday, Y/N!”
“Ummm…thank you,” the hesitant Y/N invited him inside.
“I got you a present,” he widely grinned, confident nobody else came up with a better gift idea.
“… Whose baby is this?!...” you followed him, carefully walking with the adorable bundle in the living room; the sleeping treasure fussed for a few seconds and went back to dreaming, unaware he was away from his parents.
“Frost’s,” J answered and you turned towards the entrance, baffled.
“I’ll go open the door for him then.”
“That’s not necessary; he didn’t come with me.”
“What do you mean?!”
“He’s off today. I just went to his house to drop up some ammo, then sneaked in the nursery and took the baby.”
“And his parents were ok with that?!” you crinkled your nose, more and more suspicious regarding his behavior.
“They don’t know,” The King of Gotham calmly informed.
“You kidnapped Frost’s son?!”
“I didn’t kidnap him,” J rolled his eyes, offended at your accusation. “I took him.”
“Without his parents’ consent. So you kidnapped him!” you gasped at the insane revelation.
“I’m in charge,” The Joker logic surfaced instantly. “I don’t require consent! Why are you staring at me like this?”
“I keep on hoping you’re bluffing,” you cringed at his argument. “Give me your phone!” you ordered and the item was shortly in your possession, although you had to witness a lot of grievance from his part as you searched for Frost’s digits.
Praise heavens you did since his wife was absolutely hysterical when you called: their offspring was missing from the cradle and Jonny might not be the type of person that panics, yet he had a total nervous breakdown.
They were fast to come and pick up Evan, so yeah… that’s how The Frosts ended up at your birthday bash… Full credit goes to their amazing boss!
*************
After one hour
“Do me a favor,” your father continues his conversation with J. “I want you to check with your contacts and try to find more Cromyxillium for me; I’m in desperate need.”
“Don’t you have enough for Y/N?” The Joker growls at the view of Bane’s son entertaining himself with you and Emma.
“For now. Tomorrow I’m starting her on full therapy; I found a new formula to bind the molecules together, this way her system won’t reject the medicine like it did last week. It will make her sick but I’ll be here to supervise the entire process.”
“Aren’t you afraid it will kill her?” J’s sensitive personality comes to full bloom in the best of moments.
Jonathan Crane is silent, then articulates painful facts he can’t avoid sharing:
“I am… I don’t have any other options on such a short amount of time…My daughter is fading… her lungs are finished…” and he gulps, straining to regain composure. “If this experimental drug can restore damaged tissue, it can aid with her cancer… She agreed to the test because I’m a super smart dad,” he grumbles. “That’s what she said…that I’m a super smart… I might be… I don’t even know if my remedy will work or if it will speed up her demise.”
“Fine, I’ll inquire on the product,” The Joker agrees. “What’s in for me?”
Your father takes a deep breath, exasperated.
“What do you want?”
“Excuse me,” The King of Gotham interrupts. “I think my pride’s at stake: somebody’s attempting to steal my date!” he inflates his chest and finds it imperative to notify the puzzled parent. “Y/N’s my date, didn’t she tell you? I was strictly forbidden to bring Mara so I had to maintain my reputation somehow.”
“What reputation??!!! She mentioned it and I thought the whole idea meant only you being obnoxious!” Jonathan huffs.
“I am obnoxious!” The Joker sourly admits and crushes the large group forming due to Sam’s entertaining abilities.
“Hey Y/N, where’s the grape juice?” he finds a random pretext to get your attention as you gesture towards the end of the terrace.
“There’s a bunch on ice,” you giggle at Sam’s story and J lies:
“I couldn’t find any.”
“Maybe someone moved it,” you detach from the gathering and stroll with him in the area you saw what he’s asking for.
“Who gave you that pendant?” The Clown Prince of Crime investigates since you definitely didn’t have the jewelry earlier.
“Sam,” you touch the delicate diamond heart attached to the platinum chain. “It’s so pretty, I love it.”
“He scored major points with the birthday girl, huh?” J mocks.
“Well, apparently some people are aware of my preferences and some give me presents I can’t keep,” you hint and The Joker comprehends what you aim at.
“My gift was brilliant! You said that if we would have gotten married we would have had a bunch of kids, thus it means you adore them. That’s why I brought Evan.”
“Yeah, and his parents already took him home, leading to the reasonable conclusion we can assess from the fiasco: you actually don’t have a present for me. Oh, would you look at this: grape juice!” you sarcastically show him the huge pile of containers exactly where it’s supposed to be.
“How did I miss this?” J pretends to be shocked and sneers when he notices Bane’s son coming near you two. “Dance with me!” he unexpectedly sweeps you in his arms. “It’s a slow song, just move your feet,” he encourages. “What do you want for your birthday then?” Emma’s dad distracts the astonished Y/N furthermore.
“Hmmm… I can settle for a kiss?” you unconsciously caress the short hair on the back of his head while he quickly pecks your cheek. “Um… if I wanted a jellyfish sting I could have went to the aquarium,” you sassily react and The Joker rolls his eyes. “I want a proper kiss, unless you have those reserved for Mara.”
“Why are we talking about my girlfriend?”
“On and off girlfriend,” you emphasize. “A huge indicator you don’t care that much about her. You need a woman that genuinely loves you; she’s a catalyst fueling your tendencies, you don’t need that! You don’t fight fire with fire, OK?” you almost shout and ironically enough he decides to engage in your speech.
“What do you fight it with then?”
“Dynamite!” you proudly state. “Blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh!”
“A-ah…A-ha…”, he mischievously agrees. “I assume you’re the dynamite in this scenario?” the silver grimace spreads across his face.
“Perhaps.”
“Why is Bane’s son here?” The Joker changes the subject. “He keeps lurking around and it annoys me.”
“Don’t be jealous,” you mislead him on purpose. “Sam was my boyfriend in high school,” you brief your so called partner. “I’m fond of him.”
“Why would I be jealous?!” The King’s mood switches and you realize yours is also: the sole detail he’s interested in is to emphasize zero attraction for his daughter’s friend.
“Yeah…why would you be jealous?...” you sadly smile and let go before the song ends. “Listen, I have to return to my guests, alright? You don’t have to stay; you should go back to your fire because you certainly don’t know what to do with dynamite,” the meaningful reply leaves him intrigued again: no cocky response to your clever twist in words since he already lost the passive-aggressive altercation.
************
9:49pm
You gaze at the starry sky, cozy on the inflatable mattress; the mesh on top of the tent is so thin you can hardly tell it’s there. Very quiet in the garden… you should have went to the river with the others, yet you felt the urge to be alone and rest before you reprise your treatment tomorrow.
“Y/N, are you in here?” The Joker’s voice is heard.
“No!” you grouchily snarl.
He unzips the tent and squeezes inside, obeying to your protest:
“Close it! I don’t want bugs in here!”
“I’m hiding from Crane, he made me do a bunch of stuff in preparation for your Cromyxillium therapy!” J complains to indifferent ears.
“I thought you bailed hours ago,” you coldly articulate.
“I was held prisoner in the underground lab! You should be thankful for my services.”
“You don’t do anything for free and I’m sure you’re over exaggerating anyway!”
“Whatever!” The Joker drops on the mattress next to you, deeply exhaling. “I’m beat; I’ll rest for a bit before I drive.”
You rest your fingers on your tummy, struggling to remain calm.
“I missed hanging out with my cuddling buddy,” J nozzles in your shoulder and you give him an insolent glare.
“We’re not cuddling buddies!”
“That’s too bad; I precisely came to deliver your birthday present. I resent the notion of a man unjustly accused of being cheap.”
“What birthday present?” you furrow your eyebrows.
“The kiss you demanded Y/N!”
“I’m good,” you disregard his offer and he hovers over you, captivated.
“I thought you have the hots for me, I even wore these hoochie pants to please you. I mean, I endured your affection and harassment for the past three years. I’m here now with an invisible olive branch so I think you should reconsider your answer.”
“Did you just say hoochie pants?!” you snicker at his distorted apology although you’re mad at him. “You didn’t wear them for me; you wanted to show off your assets!”
“It’s not my fault I’m handsome!” The Joker defends his wardrobe choice.
“I seriously want to be alone,” you indirectly imply he should disappear. “I’m tired of playing games. I won’t flirt with you anymore, I promise. Deal?” you lift your pinky up and there’s something strange concealed behind your abrupt vow.
“Why not?”
“First of all, I won’t have the energy: my father warned of serious consequences during the treatment. Second, it might kill me: we don’t know how my physique will endure; I have terminal cancer, remember?”
“Are you scared?” J whispers and you nod a yes, upset. “Then you should accept your gift in case you won’t have another occasion,” his rationale pushes you to reconsider your alternatives.
You pull him closer and wait, explaining your hesitation.
“It’s my birthday, you should be the one kissing me.”
The Joker doesn’t defy your logic and complies, unable to suppress an arrogant grin when you moan:
“God, your lips are so soft; I could kiss them all day.”
“Don’t get into it, I have to vacate the premises soon. I don’t want Crane to catch me in your tent and presume the worst.”
“My dad will be in the lab until morning time; you can stay if you want to,” you trace his jaw line, momentarily forgetting your grudge.
“Didn’t you preach about wishing to be alone?”
“Why are you making out with another woman besides your girlfriend?” you evaluate the waters with a question.
It doesn’t seem he’ll bother to justify his behavior thus you utter:
“I can be alone…with you. I’m 23, literally a consenting adult,” the important information is added for the heck of it.
“Consenting to what?” The Joker mumbles as you softly bite his lower lip.
“I hate you,” you pout and snuggle to him while he grabs a pillow, irritated at his involuntary reaction. J stuffs it in between the bodies and you swiftly toss it away.
“Are you trying to get me in trouble Y/N?”
“You’re always in trouble,” you begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s go with the flow, shall we? No strings attached, no commitments. You know why?” you pause and continue. “I might not survive the Cromyxillium and I want to make love to the old guy I have a major crush on.”
“Old?!” The Clown prince of Crime scoffs.
“You’re basically twice my age,” you roughly estimate without proof and kiss him again. The Joker slides his hands under your t-shirt, opting to dismiss your affirmation with a different kind of truth.
“Do you recall when you asked me if I ever tasted death?”
“Yes…”, you bury your face in his neck, wondering if he’ll say something mean that will ruin the night.
“You don’t taste like death,” J forces you to look at him. “You really don’t.”
“… … … … … … … You think so?” the emotional Y/N sniffles, categorically surprised at the confession.
“Yeah. You actually taste like dynamite,” he winks and doesn’t mind the sudden meltdown: The Joker is not big at comforting people, but the girl in his arms feels relieved nevertheless.
She might not compare to the fire he’s used to, yet Y/N’s eagerness to blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh is unfamiliar territory that’s worth exploring.
Also read: MASTERLIST
#the joker x reader#the joker fanfiction#the joker imagine#the joker jared leto#the joker suicide squad#the joker#joker#joker fanfiction#joker imagines#joker leto#joker suicide squad#Mistah J#mister j#dcu#dc
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Are there any hobbies you have that you don’t perform in front of others? Graphing random things that don’t necessarily belong in graphs
What’s one bad or inconvenient habit you used to have but no longer do? I used to be really forgetful, especially with homework and stuff. I still am a little bit but I improved a lot after I got left out of a school organization because I missed the application deadline
Do you find it difficult to kick a habit or a routine that’s detrimental? Yes
When was the last time you had a particularly hectic day? Yesterday, I had an interview and was supposed to have another but they didn’t call
Where’s one place you’ve spent a lot of time lately? My house
Is there anywhere you wish you could spend more time? Anywhere besides my house
What do you do when you simply don’t know what to do? Browse facebook and tumblr
When was the last time you felt you were in an impossible situation where, despite what you did, you couldn’t win? Making the decision whether to move out of my house with roommates who didn’t take covid seriously, but had to move in with my dad who drives me nuts
How did you find out about your current favorite band? I think my friend recommended her?
Where are you most likely to go when you need clothing? Kohl’s, Macy’s, or thrift stores
Is anything significant weighing on your mood right now? Covid and jobs and living with my dad
When was the last time you tried to do something yet failed? Applied for plenty of jobs I got rejected from
Do you think your life is comprised more of success or failure? I think mostly inaction, which can’t result in either
What’s one personality trait that’s not strong in you? Risk taking
Are you a difficult individual to get to know? Maybe
When was the last time you opened up to someone and about what? I opened up to my boyfriend about mental health symptoms
To whom do you feel the most important? My parents
When was the last time you changed your mind? Probably about whether to move home
Is there something you want but might not ever have? Going back to college
What’s something you’re working to obtain? A job
How do you console yourself when you’re distraught? Idk, maybe write about it or talk about it
Do you tend to enjoy your dreams? Yeah, sometimes they’re interesting
What would you do if you did not require sleep? Probably spend more time online
Are there any projects or goals you’ve recently abandoned? Dice making
What in life serves to keep you going? The hope that it will get more exciting
How frequently, if ever, do you want to give up? Sometimes
What was the last good news you received? That i am moving ahead in the interview process
What’re some of the important things around you? My phone, my laptop
How long has your favorite song been your favorite? Like a year? Idk it changes often
In what ways does music influence your life? It relates to what I’m feeling and gives it a voice
Are you more inclined to appreciate sweet or savory foods? Sweet
Do you prefer more hot or cold types of food? It depends on the food
How about hot or cold types of beverages? Cold
Who last told you to do something and did you do it? My dad told me to sweep under the stairs but I did not because I was afraid of spiders
Have you ever felt as though you were unrecognizable to yourself? Yeah, sometimes I look in the mirror and go, huh, I’m really in there
Are you bothered by any of your physical features? Yes, I’m too fat and my nose and forehead are too big and my hair is too flat. I am also secondarily bothered by my eyes because glasses can get annoying and my legs being too short because it makes it hard to find pants
Are romantic relationships important to you at this point in your life? Yes
Who was the last person to apologize to you for something they did? My boyfriend for resigning a chess match when it seemed like I was winning
Bruises and cuts everywhere? Bruises, I’m clumsy
Have you ever kissed someone with a tattoo? Yes, my boyfriend has an ankle tattoo
What did you do today? Had an interview, sweeped the garage, moved my bed, watched Harry Potter
What did you do last night? Watched New Girl
Last night, you felt? Tired
Will you regret your next kiss? No
Ever had a guy best friend? Jessie was one of my best friends for awhile, and John is probably one of my best friends although not best best
Is there a movie you’ve seen countless times? Harry Potter
Do you hate the last guy you had a conversation with? No
How is your last ex doing? I think ok?
Are you wearing a necklace, who got it for you? No Is there someone who can always make you smile? No
Are you excited for anything? Potentially getting a job but I don’t want to jinx it because it’s still up in the air
Anything you’d like to say to your ex? Not really
Do you give up easily? Depends on the thing and how invested I got
Do you think anyone has feelings for you? I should hope so
Did you deny or accept your last friend request? i think accept
Will you talk to someone on the phone tonight? I did earlier
Are any of your friends taller than you?
Yes
How much money did you spend today? I think none
Are you shy? Yeah
Are you completely over the last person you kissed? No, we are dating
Ever given your ALL to someone? I’m not sure
Have you ever felt like you weren’t good enough? Yes
Last thing you had to drink? Water
Do you ever just lay on the carpet in your house? Sometimes to stretch
Do you prefer ice or no ice in your drinks typically? Depends on the drink
Are you a lazy ass sometimes? Yes
What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done lately? I got kind of rambly in my interview
Do you ‘think out loud’? Yeah
Do you take gummy vitamins? Yeah
How do you know the majority of the people you know? School
Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? No, I wish
Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Lots of things
Do you use Google? Yeah
Would you like to go swimming right now? Not at the moment, although a hot tub might be nice
Can you play electric guitar? No
Do you have an HDTV? Yeah
When was the last time you drank something through a straw? Earlier tonight I had hot chocolate
Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? Kinda, but it works better in class
How long was your last phone call? I facetimed with my boyfriend for a couple hours
Do you need to repaint your nails? That might be fun
Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? Probably, they’re so generic
Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? No
Do you have a wall calendar? I have one for marking when my period is due
Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? I don’t think so
Can you handle the cold? Unless it’s really cold
Have you ever been to Canada? Only the airport
When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? I can’t remember. If you count uber, probably home from the grocery store
Would you ever join the army, air force or navy? Hell no
How old is the person you last kissed? 24
Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? Not really
Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? Yeah but it sounds like it’s fucking with the wires
Do you believe in ghosts/supernatural occurrences? Not really
What was the most expensive thing you’ve broken? I coughed up water on a laptop keyboard
Has anyone texted you yet today? Yes, my mom, my boyfriend, my dad, and a former employer
Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? Yeah I don’t think I thought it was serious, I thought it was just like a regular flu
Is there a light on in the room you’re currently in? Yes
Are your feet touching the floor? One is
Have you ever been in a car accident? My parents hit a deer once
Can you focus well in high-stress situations? Not really
Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? They’re probably average
Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? Fast sassy music
Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? No
Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless?
We all are
Is there anyone you dread going into public with? I dread being in public with anti maskers
Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? Not really
Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? I generally think of it more as vandalism but there are some cool ones
Do you buy things online? Too much
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Devoted 2
part 6
Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibition, etc.) character death, dark themes
TRIGGER WARNING: dubious consent & possible drug use
Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?
prev: Part 5
wc: 9.4k
“So you’re trying to get pregnant, Ms. [L/N]?” Dr. Ahn asks after pleasantries, going through your chart as she sits beside you. She’s been your gynecologist since you were a teenager; she was nice and funny, kept you comfortable throughout your appointments, she spoke to you like a wise friend instead of a condescending adult.
“Yes. My fiance and I would like to have kids soon.” You fold your hands over your lap after smoothing out your gownie.
“Oh, congratulations! Well, according to your cycle, you’ll be ovulating in a week. If you had unprotected sex recently, you can get pregnant since sperm can live in the vagina for up to 5 days.”
“This early? I thought it would take months.”
Dr. Ahn shrugs her shoulders, “Yes, but you seem to have a very active sex life, Ms. [L/N]. If you think it’s too early for you to get pregnant, I suggest you switch to pills or use a condom; or just abstain from sex for a few days just to let your body adjust to the sudden change, but you’ll have a higher chance of getting pregnant with than an IUD. I can prescribe some pills later after we get this Mirena out - if you still want to remove it.”
“Oh...” You hesitated, “Is it better to have it taken out when we’re trying for a baby immediately?”
She nods, “If you’re worried about getting pregnant before the big day and having a swollen belly, I’d suggest we keep the IUD in. But it’s all up to you, Ms. [L/N].”
You were right about your colleagues throwing you a farewell party; giggling a bit as you finish your small speech of gratitude with a toast to top off the night. Your boss coordinated everything - much to your surprise. He always seemed strict during work hours; drowning in paperwork and phone calls when he’s not overseeing projects.
“[Y/N], you’ve made so many projects under the company, I’d like to have them compiled under one major portfolio for you. Consider it a token of appreciation from us.” Your boss raised his glass of champagne at you.
“Oh, sir, you don’t have to.”
“Too late, dear, it’s already in production and has been paid for. We’ll have it delivered to you.”
“Thank you, sir. But we might be moving soon, I’ll send the new address once we move.”
“Alright. Congratulations again, [Y/N].”
He moves away from you, and you’re willing to bet he’s slowly making his way back into his own office because he’s a serial workaholic, more than Sicheng and Jaehyun combined.
Kyungwon had hooked her arm around yours by the time your (former) boss had left and she nuzzles the side of your head, “I miss you already!”
“Kyung, we’re still working on a project together.”
She whines, making it obvious she’s drank more than she could handle, “Your last project! After that, I’ll be all alone until you steal me away.”
You hush her, although you’re laughing at her words, “Shh, okay, no one knows I’m starting my own company; let alone taking you away. I have to wait until I actually start it before I can hire you.”
Kyungwon nuzzles the side of your head while clinking your glass at the same time, “‘till the day comes!”
She murmurs about needing help to the ladies’ room and you sling her arm around you to haul to the bathroom. When she’s in her cubicle, you enter the adjacent one to take care of your own business.
“It’s sad that [Y/N] is leaving.” You hear a female coworker say after the distinct sound of the door swinging open and close.
This makes you blush; flattered by their sentiments on your resignation.
“I know! Jeongin from the accounting said the other guys will be re-hired now that she’s gone.”
This, however, makes your brows arch in confusion.
“Ugh, they shouldn’t be re-hired. They’re sleazy and misogynists!” Another woman grumbles, “Maybe if I had a powerful fiance like [Y/N], then maybe every other sexual predator in this company gets booted.”
You swing the cubicle door open and your co-workers jumped at the sudden action. They’re blushing, hands frozen on their faces as they were trying to powder themselves. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop! But… what are you guys talking about?”
Your co-workers, Jihyo and Nayoung, share a look with one another. Jihyo cocks her head at you, “Wait, didn’t you request Choi Jinho and the others to be transferred for being… inappropriate?”
“Choi Jinho?” You repeat. You remember him; he left last year all of a sudden. He was very affectionate and quite flirty, he liked to throw his arms around everyone - including you. “No. I was shocked when he left. He was one of the most sought after architects in the company.”
Nayoung scoffed, “Yeah, but he’s a serial molester. Rumor has it that it was your fiance that had him pulled out of the company.”
You blinked at them; it was highly possible that it was Jaehyun’s doing, but how did he even know? You never talked about Jinho at all to him. “N-no… I don’t know anything about that.”
“Well,” Jihyo shrugs her shoulders, “They’re all coming back since you’re leaving. Whether or not your fiance had anything to do about it, it sounds awfully coincidental, doesn’t it?”
It does sound coincidental, but given Jaehyun’s power and personality, he probably did do something about the sudden resignations and transfers of your former male co-workers.
“Regardless, we really are going to miss you, [Y/N]. Us women in the company felt a lot safer when you started working here, I just wish our boss wouldn’t re-hire those jerks.” Nayoung offers you a sad smile before stuffing her cushion back into her purse.
“Fear not!” Kyungwon kicks the cubicle door she was in open, startling all three of you, “[Y/N] can save us all!”
She stumbles forward and you worriedly called out her name while stepping forward to help support her.
“Kyungwon really has low tolerance, huh?” Nayoung giggles, taking Kyungwon’s other hand and draping it around her shoulders to help you with her weight.
“She’s also right, I suppose.” You paused, “Give me… a month or two. I’m leaving the company to start my own and I’m aiming it to be a predominantly female company. I’d hire all of you in a heartbeat if you’d want to join me.”
Jihyo gasps and claps her hands, “Really? [Y/N], that’s amazing! Of course we’d love to! I’m willing to bet everything is going back the same way it was before you entered the company now that you’re leaving. Haven’t you realized that the guys don’t talk to you unless it’s work-related?”
You did realize this, but you always excused it because Jaehyun often picked you up from work and accompanied you during functions or parties. You had his picture on your desk; anyone could tell you were off the market and that’s the reason why your male co-workers didn’t bother with you like they did with your other female colleagues.
“Now that you mention it…” You trailed off, casting your eyes downwards.
“You’re so lucky that you have someone who constantly looks out for you.” Jihyo sighs, “My ex broke up with me because he thought I was cheating on him, when really the guy kept messaging me even though he knew I was taken.”
If they only knew the real reason behind why Jaehyun did those. You gave her a sympathetic smile, “I’m sorry about that, Jihyo.”
“Don’t apologize, [Y/N]. It’s okay, if he can’t even trust me with guys that I only see as friends or colleagues, then he doesn’t deserve me. What’s the point of a relationship without trust, right?”
Her words pricked your heart for some reason, but you shrugged and nodded halfheartedly.
Nayoung offers to take Kyungwon home, after she heaves the alcohol out of her stomach and sobers up with a few glasses of water, and Jihyo volunteers to help her. They accompany you to where Mr. Kyung was already waiting with your boxed items already in the backseat and bid you farewell.
When you get home, you dropped your stuff at your home office and sat on the couch; too drained and tipsy to make it all the way to the bedroom. You don’t feel good - not in the sense you want to vomit after drinking. It was what Jihyo and Nayoung talked about in the bathroom. Did Jaehyun have control of your surroundings even at work? How did he even know? You had so many questions and it only made your head ache.
Staring at the 77” LG OLED TV, you frown at your reflection. Your mind is taking you back to three years ago: when Jaehyun had made it seemed you had a stalker. The fear is still fresh in your heart and it made the little hairs on your arms rise up. As if the world was playing a cruel joke on you, your phone rings and drained the color from your face. But instead of an unknown number, it was Yuta’s.
Calming yourself down, you pick up his call. “Hello?”
“[Y/N], I-I’m sorry, but you know how I invited Sicheng and Jaehyun out for some drinks?”
“...Yeah? Is something wrong? What happened?”
Yuta nervously chuckles, “Nothing… particularly bad. They’re just… really drunk and I was planning to book them each a suite at the hotel I’m staying at, but Jaehyun is adamant about going home to you.”
This alarms you; Jaehyun probably has one of the highest alcohol tolerance among the people you know. He could down beer and soju one after the other and still end up being a little goofy - but never shitfaced wasted.
“Oh my god, okay, uhm… I’ll text you our address.”
“Okay, thanks, [Y/N]. Don’t worry, I’m not driving. We’ll call for a cab.”
It was barely 11PM when you hung up on Yuta and it was just odd that Jaehyun would get that drunk so early in the night. Maybe they had more hard liquor than the usual mix he goes for.
An hour later, there’s a knock on the door and you’re sprinting towards it. Before you open it, you could hear Jaehyun arguing in slurred words that he doesn’t want to wake you up and he could open it with his house keys. Opening the door wide, you’re greeted by Yuta supporting both Jaehyun and Sicheng on either shoulder with a tired, apologetic look on his face.
When Jaehyun sees you, his face brightens up immediately. “Baby!”
“H-hey. You had fun, babe?” You stifle your laughter as he lunges forward and wraps his arms around you, hugging your figure as tight as he can. Turning to Yuta, you sigh “Yuta, I think you and Sicheng should stay the night. We have a guest room with twin beds for both of you and I’m sure I can find some clothes for both of you to wear.”
“Oh, maybe Sicheng, but I can still go home.”
“Please, I insist. It’s late and you look just as hammered as these two.”
Yuta finally relents and you usher them inside. Jaehyun slumps down on an armchair while Yuta sits Sicheng down on the couch and takes the space beside him afterwards.
You bring them bottled water; opening it for Jaehyun while Yuta does it for Sicheng. “What did you guys drink and how much of it did it take for Jaehyun to be even this wasted?”
The question was directed to Yuta, who was obviously more sober than the two, but Jaehyun answers anyways in a giddy voice, “The whole bar! Sans wine because there are hundreds of those there…. Oh, babe, I had the best scotch there.”
You hum, bringing the bottle up to his lips so he could drink water.
In your peripheral vision, you catch Yuta fondly watching both of you. “Must be nice to have someone waiting at home for you; ready to take care of you when you need them, huh?” He comments.
“Are you retiring early from the bachelor life? Your bachelor pad isn’t even complete yet.” You tease, running your fingers through Jaehyun’s hair to push it back from his face and he gives you a sleepy, childish grin.
“No, I’m gonna enjoy it a little longer. But I can’t be a bachelor forever, [Y/N].”
You excuse yourself to get clothes for them and brought back some shorts and shirts Jaehyun doesn’t use often. You direct them to the guest room where Yuta hauls Sicheng to the bed and promises to help him change after the latter whined about being too lazy. You wish them a good night and made your way back to Jaehyun.
As you close the door, you gasp to see Jaehyun already beside you, leaning his weight against the adjacent wall. “Babe! Oh my god, come on let’s get you to bed.”
“Let’s get you to bed.” He repeats with a chuckle, nose scrunching at you.
You warily eyed him, you’ve never seen him in this kind of state before - and that’s saying something. There was one time you both endlessly drank until you (just you) were throwing up and even then, Jaehyun was still his right state of mind to take care of you.
He holds your hand and lets you lead him to the bedroom, “You’re pretty.”
“I’m pretty?” You stop in your tracks, just a little past the doorway and turn at him with an incredulous expression. “The last time you called me pretty was seven years ago; when we first started dating.”
“I stopped calling you pretty?”
“No, you just used other adjectives.”
“Like?”
You feel your cheeks heat up, “Like beautiful, gorgeous, sexy… and the likes.”
Jaehyun cocks his head and grins, “You’re all of that.”
“Thank you, Jaehyun. Now let’s get you-” He cuts you off with a kiss, bringing his hands on your hips to pull you towards him. You entertain it for a moment, slinging your arms around him and even tiptoeing to push yourself up. But in the back of your mind, you remember the conversation with your former colleagues and you’re pulling away from him.
Jaehyun doesn’t get the hint and continues to press his lips on your skin, “I love you so much, [Y/N]. I’ve wanted you for so, so, so long and now you’re here; a few months away from being my wife.”
“I love you, too, Jae,” You try to stop him but he holds you with a firm grasp, “I think we should get to bed now.”
He hums in approval, bringing his lips back over yours all of a sudden; catching you off guard when he forces his tongue into your mouth and you could taste the variety of alcohol he’s consumed. He’s nudging you back until you’re by the bed and he pushes you down onto it.
“Jaehyun, wait,” Your eyes fall to the unclosed door, worried that your sudden guests would hear or need something and stumble into a salacious scene. You hate how that turns you on; how the idea of someone walking into you and Jaehyun fucking gets you wet from the get go. But you’re not keen on doing anything tonight; not when he’s too drunk and especially not after what the girls told you. “I’m not in the mood.”
Your words fell on deaf ears as Jaehyun hooks his fingers on the band of your pajama bottoms and underwear that you changed into while waiting for them and yanked them both off your legs. You try to shut your legs, but Jaehyun just wrenches them apart and dives face first into your pussy.
A gasp leaves you, your back arching off the bed and your hand shooting to grab hold of his hair. “Jae, please- wait a minute, I-”
He directs his attention to your clit; engorged and throbbing to be touched, sending pleasurable waves coursing through your veins with every lick and suck Jaehyun does.
Moments later, you feel him slip two fingers into you without any forewarning.
“You’re always so wet for me.” He grumbles, giving you a few more drawn out pumps from his fingers and kitten licks on your clit before standing to unbuckle his belt.
You take this as an opportunity to move away from him, scooting up the bed and sitting up. “Jaehyun, can you just wait for one-oh!”
He chuckles at you, grabbing onto your ankles and pulling you back near him; hovering above your frame with a mischievous smile. “Hi.”
“Hi…”
He just smiles at you; a lazy, mellow grin on his puffy face.
“Are you okay?” You whisper, touching his arms and running your hands over them in a soothing manner.
He nods, “I’m just happy.”
“I can see that.” You giggle for a second, eyes darting from his upturned lips to the hot, hard cock resting on your thigh, before your face falls. He’s acting really weird. “We should really go to sleep, Jaehyun.”
“But I’m horny.” He pushes your shirt up to expose your bare chest to him, “And you’re so hot. I can only get off on you.”
You bite down on your lower lip when his hands grab each of your breasts and gave each a good squeeze, thumbs stimulating your nipples until they were hard peaks. You look up at him, watching his eyes glint with lust at the sight in front of him. He looked so different… he doesn’t seem like himself - at least his persona of this age. It was like he was back in his early twenties, trying to get into your pants for the third time.
Jaehyun reaches over his head to remove his shirt, tossing it aside as fast as he could. He’s sweating for some reason, although the entire apartment is air-conditioned. His muscles are tensed when you hold his arms.
“Jae, are you okay?”
“Never better.” He grits out, capturing your lips into an open kiss.
When he pulls you closer, you could feel his heart beating drumming onto your chest. You pull away, “Jaehyun, your pulse is going insane.”
“Of course, it is.” He dismisses, pushing your legs apart. “It’s because of you.”
Feeling dismissed, you sigh, “Okay, Jaehyun, just one round - ah!”
You get cut off, loudly moaning when he surges forward and his cock pierces into you with minimal difficulty.
You woke up sore and aching; especially lower half. Last night, you came about five times after 3 rounds one after the other. Jaehyun was insatiable; unrelenting to your soft pleas for even a quick break. He just… wasn’t himself - at all.
With much struggle, you sit up the bed and pull up the sheets to your naked body. The clock on the nightstand reads it’s about 7AM which means you’ve been asleep for a measly 3 hours. You ought to take a shower; you slept drenched in sweat and not to mention both yours and Jaehyun’s cum dried up and crusty all over your nether regions.
A pained moan leaves you once you tried to get up; you hiss, “Damn, am I getting old?”
Holding the sheets to your body, you trudge to the bathroom but the door suddenly opens and Jaehyun steps out, paler than usual.
“Jaehyun?”
He jumps a little at your voice and he stares at you, wide eyed. He releases a sigh, eyes furrowed in the middle of his forehead. Before you could ask what’s wrong, he takes a step forward and pulls you into a tight hug.
“[Y/N], I’m so sorry.” Jaehyun mumbles into the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“What?”
He kneels in front of you, taking one of your hands into his and kissing your fingers repeatedly. “I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I - it was like I had no control of myself. I’m a monster.”
You hunched down and cup his face, “Jaehyun, stop, what are you talking about?”
“You,” He almost snaps, “You didn’t want to have sex last night, but I insisted. I forced myself on you; I-”
“Jaehyun, it’s okay.”
“That’s not okay, [Y/N].” He cuts you off, “You said ‘no’ and I ignored it. I’m a monster, [Y/N], I practically ra-”
You grabbed his shoulders, “Don’t even say it! I wasn’t in the mood in the beginning, sure, but I still enjoyed myself… you should know, I came a lot.”
“But,” He tries to argue, but you hushed him.
“You know I wouldn’t go down without a fight; if I really didn’t want to, I would have made it very clear.”
“But,” Jaehyun looks at you with doubt, prompting you to give him a loving kiss on the lips. “If you had resisted… I think it would have been even worse.”
You pull away at his words, trying to search for an explanation in his face, but he has his eyes looking down to his lap. Swallowing hard, you kiss his cheek, “Monsters don’t know what’s good and bad; they don’t apologize for what they’ve done. You have, though, you know what’s right and wrong. I’m not mad or disgusted by you, Jae, I still love you.”
He finally looks at you, “I don’t deserve you, but I love you, too.”
Pulling you into a hug, he kisses your shoulder over and over again while you soothe his back with your hands.
“Although,” You trail off, leaning back on your legs, “Last night… it felt like you weren’t even here. Y-you were completely different. What were you drinking last night?”
Jaehyun sighs, “Too much of everything… I’ll ask the guys if they remember what we had so I can avoid it next time. They should be hungry now if they’re awake. I’ll go make breakfast.”
“Okay, I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
He leaves you to bathe after sharing another kiss and you wait until he’s gone before you lumber into the bathroom and stepped into the shower.
As warm water cascades down your body, you let out a sigh of relief as you feel your muscles relax under the steam. You still had to question Jaehyun about what Jihyo and Nayoung had told you, but it had to wait until your guests leave.
You’re in and out of the shower in 10 minutes, putting on proper clothing after drying off and applying some moisturizer. You tame your hair down until you’re decent enough to present yourself in front of Sicheng and Yuta and you walk out to the dining room where Sicheng exaggeratedly calls for you.
“Jiejie!” He cries, “I wanted to eat your cooking for breakfast.”
“Maybe next time?” You sympathize, glancing at Yuta as he looks through framed pictures on the shelves with a steaming cup in hand. “Are you guys alright? I hope the hangovers aren’t too bad.”
Yuta shrugs at you, “Bearable. I don’t know about these two, they were hit the hardest.” He gestures to them with his mug before taking a long sip.
“Did we drink anything you didn’t?” Jaehyun calls out from the kitchen, pausing from his cooking to ask him. “Because I’m not humble bragging or anything, but I have a very high alcohol tolerance - higher than Sicheng.”
The latter cradles his head and sighs, “I don’t even want to contest to that.”
“Hmm…” Yuta gives it a thought, approaching the table and sitting beside Sicheng. “The rum one, perhaps? I don’t like coconut that much so I didn’t even try it.”
You made yourself a cup of coffee, frowning at what Yuta had said because you’re certain that Jaehyun had downed that in a minute. Peeking at him, with the way his brows furrowed and arms crossed while watching the soup simmer, told you that he did remember the drink. You walk to him and lean your head on his shoulder, “Was it good at least?”
“Yeah, it was.” He grumbles, stirring the dried pollack soup he makes for anyone with a hangover (usually you.)
“There had to be something in it.” Sicheng pounds on the table like it was a gavel.
Yuta sits back on his seat, “Like drugs?”
“It’s the only possible reason why Jaehyun and I were so out of it; I mean, if it were only me, then it wouldn’t raise suspicion, but the fact Jaehyun…”
“We should take drug tests, Cheng, and if we come out positive; then we’ll sue the bar.” Jaehyun turns the stove off and you help him serve the soup to them. After giving a hefty portion each to the boys, you and Jaehyun serve yourselves and sit across them.
Sicheng moans at the first spoonful of soup, “I still think [Y/N]’s version is better.”
You let out a little laugh while Jaehyun scowls at him, “We use the same recipe.”
But the Chinese national just rolls his eyes and continues to eat, Yuta on the other hand, nods his head as he chews. “Wow, is there anything you can’t do?”
“He’s annoying, isn’t he?” You teased, “I used to think he was too perfect for me.”
Jaehyun nudges your leg with his, shooting you playful disapproving look.
“No flaws at all?” Yuta wonders out loud.
“Of course, I have flaws.” He defends, “Everyone does. Don’t you?”
“Oh!” Yuta dramatically exclaims, “Ask all my exes.”
Everyone chuckles at him - even Jaehyun, to your surprise; it looks like he isn’t as apprehensive towards Yuta anymore. Maybe the night out allowed them to get closer, open up a bit more about each other rather than being business associates. You reach under the table to squeeze his thigh, making him glance at you, and you simpered at him.
He returns it with his hand covering your own to hold it momentarily before both of you resume eating and entertain your guests with stories from the night before.
Yuta and Sicheng don’t extend their stay any longer and began preparing to head back to their respective homes after breakfast, dressing themselves back in their soiled clothing from the night before and were gracious enough to throw the clothes they borrowed into the laundry themselves.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Jaehyun,” Yuta sighs, nodding at him and then at you, “[Y/N].”
“Don’t mention it.” You lean onto Jaehyun as he lays his arm over your shoulders, “It’s been awhile since we had people stay the night.”
“Until next time, then!” Sicheng jokes, tossing his coat over his shoulder.
“A tamer next time; perhaps we’ll tackle their wine collection?” Yuta raises a brow at Jaehyun.
He hums, halfheartedly shrugging, “Until a tamer next time.”
Both of you see them off and once Jaehyun shuts the door, you step away from him and walked away with crossed arms. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him, following after you tentatively. “[Y/N]?”
You spin on your heels and scowled at him, “Did you have my boss fire men at the company?”
He blinks at you, “Yes…?”
“Jaehyun! Why would you do that?”
“Kyungwon said they were inappropriate and disrespectful; not only towards you, but the rest of the women at your work. I had only suggested doing something about it in passing, but she seemed to like the idea.”
You reel back and let your arms fall to your sides, “Kyungwon?”
Jaehyun nodded, “Although, she was a little drunk that time… when we first went out to drink with her and your other colleagues. She was complaining about how one of the men kept trying to touch her. I had to do something, [Y/N], it would be for your sake, too.”
“Oh.” You felt guilty now; you were ready to give him an earful for meddling in your corporate life but now you know the truth, you’re admittedly a little speechless.
“Did Kyungwon tell you? I asked her not to tell you because I’m sure you wouldn’t like it, but-”
“No,” You shake your head, “She didn’t. I overheard it in the bathroom. It seems like they’re rehiring those people now that I’m gone. I’m worried about Kyungwon and the others now; I need to start the company now so I can hire them.”
Jaehyun frowns, “I can hold the rehiring until then, baby. For now, how about I handle on your start-up to make it a little quicker? You just worry about Yuta’s apartment and our new house?”
“Are you sure? You seem pretty busy these days.”
“I have people to handle the paperwork. They’ll need your approval and signatures, but that would be it.”
“Okay.” You bite down on your lip, “Thank you.”
He chuckles, tipping your chin upwards so he could kiss you, “Anything for my everything.”
Your arms slip over his strong built, pushing yourself to hug him and press your cheek on his chest where you could feel his steady heartbeat thumping. You feel his fingers combing through your hair while his other hand rested over the small of your back.
“Is something else bothering you?”
“I just wanted to hug you…” You murmured, “But… I suppose it’s bothering me that I feel so… dependent on you. I don’t even know how different my life would be without you. You solve all my problems with a wave of your hand or snap of your fingers - to be frank,” You abruptly pull away from him with a pout, “You solve it through your wallet.”
He sighs, “[Y/N], you know money isn’t an issue to me or my family. I understand it can be overwhelming and almost impudent to solve all our problems with money, but it’s more efficient that way. My family… your future family has a steady flow of income; enough to sustain our lives and those who need it.”
“Those who need it?”
Jaehyun cocks his head, “We have plenty of charities, and provide sponsorships and scholarships, [Y/N]. The Jungs aren’t that greedy. Each of us donate to our respective charities twice a year.”
“What’s your charity?”
He hesitates, “I regularly donate to a rehabilitation center that deals with people who need psychotherapy that cannot afford it and…”
“And?”
“I also donate to the Golden Acres nursing home.”
You gasp, hands flying to your lips, “Golden Acres? That’s where…”
He nods, “Your mother mentioned about how your grandmother had been there since you were in high school. Don’t you want to visit her?”
“She doesn’t remember me.” You sadly tell him. Your grandmother had early onset Alzheimer’s at the age of 62. Your parents were working so hard to even support everyone in the house that no one could take care of her. By the next year, they had decided to move her into Golden Acres where she could be cared for 24/7. “Or at least she doesn’t remember that I’ve grown; I’m basically a stranger to her.”
“But she was an artist, yes?” Jaehyun’s hands rubs your shoulders, “You got your artistic skills from her.”
“Yeah,” You let yourself smile; when you were younger, your grandmother always encouraged you to draw or paint when she’d watch over you for your parents while they were away. “I miss her, though.”
“Then let’s visit her one day. Invite her to the wedding; whether she remembers you or not.” He kisses your forehead and pulls you back in for a hug. “What do you want to do today?”
You hum, trying to decide until you remembered that it was Sunday. You jump away from him with a gasp, “We were supposed to meet with my parents and Kun today for dinner! I haven’t contacted him at all last week.”
Jaehyun couldn’t help but chuckle at you as you briskly walk back into the bedroom. He saunters after you, crossing his arms and leans against the door frame while he watches you type on your phone. “Did you tell your parents at least?”
You glance up at him, “Yeah, of course I did.”
“So you genuinely forgot the man of the hour?”
You roll your eyes, hitting send after composing a message and picking out Kun’s contact number. “Okay, you know what? My mind has been everywhere the past couple of days; from designing a loft-type bachelor pad to a full sized home - that we haven’t even chose yet - resigning from my job and starting my own to save my female colleagues from pervs; cut me some slack, Jae. I can’t even start thinking about our wedding, although I really, really want to.”
He lightheartedly scoffs, approaching you on your seat at the bed and kneeling in front of you, “Baby, you know I was just teasing you. Don’t think about your company just yet, I’ll take care of that. How about we spend the rest of the morning planning for the wedding together and after lunch, we could browse through the catalogs of the Jung Properties’ real estate.”
“Sometimes I forget that your family is actually in real estate. You guys have too many business branches and different agencies.”
“We’re a conglomerate for a reason.” He gathers your hands into his and kisses your ring, “Soon, we’ll have a design agency under your name and ownership; which in retrospect, should be a smart business move. We have all these lands and properties, subdivisions and condominiums, yet we rely on other companies to build and design them.”
“So it all works out in the end?”
He hums in agreement, standing to his feet. “Well, should I get your laptop for you or do we work on our wedding in your office?”
Considering the fact that you’ll both not end up doing what needs to be done if you were to work on the bed, you chose the latter and he helps you stand up after you grab your phone. He holds your hand and swings them as you make your way to your office; grinning like a child and it’s so contagious that the same grin forms on your face.
In your office, he insists that you sit between his legs as he scoots further into your high back office chair to make room for you. Once comfortable, he rests his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist as you open your iMac.
“You wanted an intimate wedding, yeah?” He kisses your neck, “So around 50 guests or less?”
“Does it sound too little for you?”
“No. What matters to me is that we’re both present with our parents. I don’t mind a civil wedding, either.”
You whined, “Where’s the fun in that?”
His chuckle reverberates onto your back, “I suppose. So at a church? Hotel function room? A beach? The casino?”
“We’re not getting married at the casino.”
“Hey,” He tightens his hold around you for a second, “Lucky 7’s function rooms are quite nice.”
“Doesn’t change my mind on it.” You shrug, “I can’t choose between a garden wedding or a beach wedding; so you choose.”
On the monitor screen, you pull up the pinterest board you’ve compiled everything wedding related and Jaehyun hums in contemplation as you slowly scroll through them. “How about a garden wedding with a beach view?”
You twist around to look at him, “We can do that?”
“I’m sure it’s possible.” He presses his lips on your jaw, “We’ll make it possible.”
“Okay, well if it’s technically a garden wedding, then I think it’s fitting that the theme would be a little casual, but still romantic.” You type the keywords into the search bar and show him what you meant.
“Weddings like these are perfect for spring.” He comments, “Would you like to set a date for when the cherry blossoms have bloomed?”
“It would be nice, but that would mean we’d only have 6 months or so to plan this wedding - and that’s if we make it our priority. We’re both so busy.”
He leans back on the chair and massages your shoulders, “Babe, you’re worrying too much again. Remember, we might be busy; but my mom won’t be. She’ll gladly take care of this as an event planner. She’s been waiting to plan my wedding before I even learned to walk.”
You snort at him, shaking your head in disbelief, but move on with the planning; “Would you like to suggest a color scheme? Don’t you dare fucking say black just because it’s your favorite color.”
He lets out a laugh, “Gray, then. Something neutral.”
“Garden weddings typically have purples and pinks for color schemes; like pastel shades, or lavender and peaches.”
“I like that,” He interjects, “Peaches or coral.”
You look back at him for a moment, “Alright, then. Let’s pick out some photos and print them out.”
As you save photos you both agreed on and print them out, Jaehyun makes himself a little more comfortable by cuddling you and pulling you flush against him. As you wait for the rest of the photos to print out, you run your hands along his arms, feeling the little hairs on them.
He mumbled something incoherent on your neck, tickling you slightly.
“What was that?”
“I said,” He pulls away a little, but his lips are still brushing against your skin as he speaks, “I can’t wait to see you in a wedding dress.”
Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the image of you in a flowy white dress, hair styled to your liking, walking down the aisle where Jaehyun waited in his own white dress shirt and black pants.
“Do you have any requests on what my dress should look like?”
“Anything would look good on you.” He leans back and forces you to lie back on him, “It could be the sluttiest dress ever or the most matronly piece - I don’t care.”
You shift to face him, cupping his jaw and moving your thumb over his cheek. His own hand mimics your actions, lightly caressing your thigh. There’s a comforting silence that takes over; lulling you closer to each other until your lips are pressed and melding together. There wasn't any urgency or desperation, nor was it hasty and in passing.
He took his time with you, nibbling on your lower lip and steadily bringing the soft flesh between his. The printer made a sound that signaled its’ done it’s job and he pulls away but you hold him steady, whimpering a sound of disapproval that makes him chuckle.
He continues to kiss you, running his tongue along your lower lip to ask for entrance and you grant it. Teasingly, he slips the wet muscle into your mouth and sliding it along your own. He tasted like coffee: a good kind of bitter with a hint of sweetness, the kind you get addicted to.
Your hand falls to his chest and you could feel his pulse with your fingers, beating steadily with calm thumps.
Both of you pulled away for air, resting your foreheads together. He has a ghost of a smile on his lips and you give it a little peck to make it wider.
“I love you.”
You’ve exchanged these words so many times already yet it never lost its meaning. It still sent warmth spreading across your face, made your stomach giddy, and made your heart feel full. “I love you, too.”
Jaehyun leans back down, opting to kiss your cheek while combing his fingers through your hair.
After a few more minutes of basking in each other’s presence in absolute peace, you break off from each other to pin the printed photos onto the corkboard you had hanging in your home office. It was a nice way to spend the rest of the morning before ordering lunch; it felt a little recreational but also exciting. By the time the food Jaehyun had ordered arrive, the board was practically filled with your ideas for the wedding.
You discussed it some more over lunch and he managed to squeeze in a little talk about the honeymoon, chowing down on your meals on the couch.
“Venice? Greece?” He feeds you some of his pork dumplings and you hum at both the savory flavor and his suggestions, “I already know a place in Greece I’d like to take you to.”
“Wherever, Jaehyun,” You roll your eyes, scooting your body closer to him and draping your legs over his lap. “I’m sure I’ll love wherever you’ll take me.”
“A month?”
You snort at him, “That’s too long; two weeks max.”
He pouts down as he mixes his fried rice around in the take-out cup, letting out a little grumble, “Okay.”
Once finished with your lunch, he volunteers to clean up the mess and tells you to go into his office, instructing you to open his computer and open the new email from their real estate office. You give him a quick smooch on the cheek, thanking him for cleaning up, and made your way into his office.
You sat in front of his desk; turned on his iMac, typed in his password, and waited for his mail to load when you pulled the window up. You weren’t the type to snoop or pry through his business life, but your eyes glazed over his other emails. It as oddly satisfying how he kept it so organized; having different email addresses for work, personal life, and such. But one email handle caught your eye; it was for a Jeong Yoonoh. For spam mail, perhaps? A little voice at the back of your head told you to open it, but before you could even reach for the mouse; Jaehyun comes into the room with a glass of white wine in each hand.
“Have you opened it?” He asks, using the back of his hand to close the door.
“Not yet,” You quickly clicked on the email from Jung Properties and stood up to let him sit before making yourself comfortable on his lap like earlier. You took a sip from the wine he offered and almost spat it out when he opened up the digital brochure on the screen, “These are all mansions.”
He hums, “Yes, they are. Too big?”
“How many rooms do we need? It’s just going to be the two of us.”
“For now.” Jaehyun chuckles in your ear, playfully biting your lobe.
You gasp, perking up from your seat before twisting around to send him a glare. “Don’t.”
He continues to chuckle to himself, browsing through the houses while drinking from his glass. “Don’t what, baby? We’ve talked about children before.”
“We still don’t need all that space.” You argue, mumbling into your glass.
“Yes, we do. We’ll need it for our private offices, a few guest rooms, our children’s playroom…” Jaehyun’s free hand runs over your stomach, “Our playroom.”
“We’re not going to have a playroom if we’re going to have children.” You flinch away from him but he holds you against him, making you gasp.
“You mean, we’re going to have children because of the playroom.” His hand has now unabashedly slipped under your shirt to cup your boob.
You put your wine glass down on the table, afraid to drop it. “You’re insatiable.”
He merely laughs, following after you and setting his glass by yours. “Have you seen yourself, baby? How aren’t you turned on by your own reflection?”
He reaches past you to grab the wireless mouse and opens the photo booth app, your bodies being projected on the monitor. “Look at yourself.”
His hands push your shirt over your chest and pull your bra down; his brows giving away his annoyance towards the clothing article. He’s watching the screen with you, using it like a mirror to figure out where your nipples were to roll between his fingers.
You let out a mewl, arching into his touch and holding onto his knees. The bulge in his pants grew beneath you, slotting perfectly under your clothed mound.
“Do you want to see me fuck you, [Y/N]?” He peppers small kisses on your nape, still kneading your breasts with his palms.
“I-” Your voice hitches when you began to grind on him, “I want you to record it.”
Jaehyun stops, “What? You want to make a sex tape-”
“Yes,” You whined, stretching your arm out to start recording on his computer before removing your shirt and bra.
“You’re such a naughty girl, [Y/N], hm?” Jaehyun dryly laughs, pulling you back against him and maneuvering your wanton body so his mouth had access to your chest. He licks your pert nipple a couple of times and bites the patch of skin by it. His hand had jammed itself past the garter of both your leggings and underwear, drawing a circular pattern over your clit. “You want to make a sex tape, yeah? What if someone gets a hold of the file, huh?”
“Then they’d see how good you make me feel; how you fuck me so good.”
An approving croon vibrates from his chest, sitting back for a moment to watch you grind yourself on him and although he’d love to put music on to complete the lap dance, he would have to ask you for one some other time. He gently nudges you off him, tugging at your leggings. “Off.”
You push your pants down with your underwear and toss them aside while Jaehyun just pushes his down enough to free his erection. He guides you to sit on his cock after giving himself a few pumps with his fist. Once you were eased in, he forces your legs apart by draping them over his knees and spread his legs wider.
“Smile for the camera, baby.”
Dinner with your parents and Kun had been going smoothly; you have to admit that even Jaehyun seemed to be enjoying himself while listening to Kun’s med school stories. You were midway through finishing your glass of sangria when your mother comments about how Kun and his family suddenly moved back to China.
“Ah,” Kun swallows his food and brings the napkin from his lap to wipe his lips, “It was rushed, for some reason. All they told me was they were both offered better paying jobs back at home; it would have been churlish to decline it, especially since it guarantees full payment of my tuition.”
You caught Jaehyun mindlessly nodding to Kun. You bump your knee against him and once he looks at you, you pointedly question his actions with a cock of a brow.
“Hm? Oh,” He clears his throat, “I would have done the same if I were in your parents’ shoes. No matter how great the sacrifice to be made is.”
Kun’s eyes glanced at you; he seemed melancholic as he agrees with Jaehyun’s words. You don’t know how to feel about his expression, choosing to busy yourself by cutting up your steak into even smaller pieces.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you and [Y/N] meet?”
Jaehyun chuckles and you’re already rolling your eyes because you know how he likes to answer this question.
“She slapped me with her hair.”
Your parents join him in laughing as if they didn’t know the story already while Kun was nice enough to bite back his own laughter. You huff, “We were classmates during freshman year. He tapped my shoulder to ask something and I turned to face him too quickly so my hair smacked him, okay?”
“I see.” Kun grins, probably imagining the scenario in his head. “Peculiar way of falling in love.”
“Love at first smack.” Jaehyun jokes and you step on his foot under the table, “Ow!”
“I could have ignored you, you know.” You threatened as if it would make a difference.
It was his turn to roll his eyes, “I would have kept bothering you, then. It’s not like I could ask the next table for help.”
Your father turns to Kun, “How about you, Kun? Any lady in your life?”
Kun’s face flushes into a soft pink, “No. I’m too focused on school and work. It would also feel weird to have a girlfriend while my specialization involves putting my hands between another woman’s legs.”
“How did you even end up in obstetrics?” You stab one of the steak pieces and bring it to your mouth, remembering how Kun got shy whenever you were in a promiscuous position while making out. Now he had to work with vaginas.
“My cousin passed away because of childbirth.” He solemnly admits, “It was a high-risk pregnancy and there weren’t any obstetricians in our hometown that specialized in it, so we lost both her and the baby.”
“My god,” Your mother gasps, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It was years ago. She acted as an older sister to me, so losing her really left a mark. She’s the reason why I took up obstetrics. I plan to go back home to my country in a few years and set up a clinic there.”
You’re chewing slowly, trying to remember if he had ever mentioned to you about his cousin. You hear your name and you blink up at Kun, who was looking at you with curiosity. Swallowing, you cough a little, “What was that?”
He smiles, “You’re an interior designer, right? Doyoung mentioned about you working at a firm near the hospital.”
“I am and I was.” You wash down your food with a swig of water, “I quit my job a few days ago and I’ll be starting my own.”
“Soon.” Jaehyun quips, “Very soon.”
“That’s amazing.” Kun nods, “My dad had always wondered how that worked out for you.
You feel yourself blanching at the memory of his father the last time you saw them, “Your dad?”
“My grandfather, his dad, was an architect so he worked closely with interior designers.”
“Oh.” You lick your lips, trying to remain passive. Unable to shake the thought that if his grandfather was an architect, why were his parents so against you and your career choices?
“How are your parents, by the way? Did they move back here with you?” Your father inquires, reminding you that he and Kun’s father used to drink together with Doyoung’s dad.
“They didn’t move back with me, but they planning to visit for a few days next month or so. We should have dinner again with them.” He suggests and your parents express their enthusiasm towards him, “However, my mother…”
You peer up a him through your lashes when his voice trails off.
“She was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s a year ago. But don’t get me wrong! She’s doing wonderful, the symptoms are there; barely noticeable, really. She’s receiving therapy back at home and her lifestyle has completely changed for the better.”
You feel the urge to cry, remembering your own grandmother.
“That’s good to hear.” You’re grateful you mom reaches over to squeeze his hand before you could, “Although truly unfortunate; is it genetic?”
“I hope not.” Kun warily smiles, “I’m cutting back on a lot of potential vices, I keep follow a strict diet and workout routine.”
“No wonder you’ve lost weight.” You comment in an attempt to turn the somber mood around , finishing off your meal and putting your cutlery down. “I assumed it was from the all-nighters brought by med school.”
Kun chuckles, bringing out the dimples he had - dimples you remember loving. “Mayhaps that, too.”
Dinner shortly ends after sharing a small platter of seasonal fruits and you’re seeing your parents off as they enter their car. “Drive safe, dad. I love you guys.” You kiss your mom’s cheek through the open car window give a flying kiss to your dad.
“We love you, too, [Y/N]. You and Jaehyun drive home safely as well, okay?”
You pull away and wave at them, watching your dad put the car in reverse and drive off after nodding at you. Looking back to where you left Jaehyun and Kun, you feel uneasy at how they were conversing while sneaking glances at you. When you walk back to them, they both smile at you. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Kun was just telling me about that one time in high school-” Jaehyun sniggers and you gasp, smacking Kun’s arm out of habit.
“What did you tell him?!”
Kun yelps, reeling back and grabbing his arm. “I didn’t say anything!”
Jaehyun scoffs, “I was joking! He didn’t tell me anything… yet.”
You huffed, backhanding Jaehyun’s chest and he, too, cries softly in pain.
“Okay! I was just asking Kun if he could be your obstetrician - especially if there are complications in your pregnancy.” Jaehyun massages his chest with a pout, “I’d prefer having someone we both trust than just someone who’s just good at their job; so I asked Kun.”
“And I’d love to.” Kun adds, “I get to hold my nieces and nephews before Doyoung.”
You tittered at them, rolling your eyes. “It’s getting late.”
“Ah,” Kun nods to your observations, “I have an early shift tomorrow. Thanks for dinner. It was great seeing you again, [Y/N], and it was great meeting you!”
Jaehyun grins as he shakes the hand Kun offers to him, “You, too. We should do this again next time; you can tell me everything embarrassing [Y/N] did back in high school.”
You slap his shoulder, but he merely laughs with Kun.
“I’d love to! We should invite Doyoung, too.”
After a few more pleasantries, you and Jaehyun see Kun off as he gets into his car and drives away. Jaehyun opens your side of the car door for you and shuts it once you were seated inside before rounding to enter the driver’s side. While he starts the car, you put your seatbelt on and watch him with pursed lips.
He notices after he secures his own seatbelt, leaning over the center console to kiss you. He asks, “Are you okay?”
“Did you like Kun?”
Jaehyun laughs, sitting back properly to start driving. “Yeah. He’s a good man; family-oriented, a loving son... So, you like guys with dimples?”
“Shut up! I swear, that’s just a coincidence.” You crossed your arms, “So you mean everything you said? About meeting up with him and all?”
“Yes, [Y/N], I actually genuinely like the guy.” He rolls his eyes, but his voice drops into a murmur, “I understand why he’s your first love… he’d be a better option than-”
You put your hand over his while it gripped the gear stick to stop him from talking, “But I don’t love him anymore, you know that right? You can only call it first love because it ended. There’s only you for me now and forever.”
He smiles, moving his hand so he could bring yours up to his lips while keeping his attention on the road. “I know. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” You watch him concentrate on driving for a few minutes, relieved at how the night turned out. You were expecting Jaehyun to be petty or at least sulky; but he initiated and held conversations with Kun - more than you did - as if they were the ones rekindling a friendship. Pride and love blooms in your chest. Jaehyun really is doing his best in correcting his flaws. “By the way,”
“Hm?”
“You basically gave my ex access to my vagina.”
He sneers at you, “The only time he’ll actually have access is when it’s dilating and pushing a baby out; doubt he’d do anything else, babe.”
A grimace makes its way onto your face, albeit you agree with him. It felt a little awkward thinking about it now, but you’re sure you’ll be in too much pain from going through labor to even care about having Kun deal with your ‘down under'.
“You have plans tomorrow, right? IKEA with Yuta and Kyungwon?”
“Yeah, after lunch.”
“Oh, good.” Jaehyun hums, “Would you like to go to therapy with me tomorrow morning?”
You snap your head towards him, “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, “Unless you want some other day; that’s fine, too.”
“No, I’d like to go. I can’t wait.” You affirm, letting your thoughts drift off to wonder what it would be like to attend Jaehyun’s therapy with him. You knew he had a mental disorder, but he wasn’t comfortable telling you what it was back then so you never really pressed him. It never really bothered you that you didn’t know what exact disorder he had because he seemed to be getting a better control of it. But now the topic is resurfacing and you can’t help but ponder on it. Will knowing what it is have an impact on your relationship?
Trepidation stirs within you; if it does have an impact, then how badly will it affect you? You’re trying to convince yourself that nothing will change your perspective of Jaehyun. This man has been trying so hard to change for you; trying so hard to be an open book to you like you are to him. The least you could do is learn and understand his flaws, right?
a/n: yay for update. buT WAIT !! the next part is the much awaited therapy session!! i’ll let you guys send in some questions you’d like to be tackled during the therapy session (pls dont send these with an open forum ask)
next: part 7
~ buy me a peach? but why?
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Ep. 12: “everyone is feeling pity for me...WHICH IS AMAZING” - Pedro
Najwah
I don't think I'm good at survivor lmao. I don't like what it's doing to me. Initially the blindsiding and voting put felt like nothing but it's getting so hard every day. I've known these people for almost a month now and I've grown so close to them. These feelings of paranoia and trying to go after people is just a lot. Also the idea of using people pisses me off. I told Cody and Sarah that my bond with Amy wasn't like that but they still felt as though they needed to try to get Amy "for the numbers" instead of trying to talk to Pedro or something - which annoys me. I don't want to use people for numbers. I don't want to use people at all. My perspective has changed completely. I'm still PLAYING but as I say repeatedly, my connections with humans is more important than an ego boost that comes with winning. Amy finally contacted me again after I asked her whether she was angry with me. She said yes bc I didn't choose her as my closest ally in the previous challenge. Thanks again James. So basically she saw I chose someone else, but she chose me as her closest ally. And I chose her as the person I trust the most and she chose Maddison? Am I not supposed to be mad at that too? I just miss her. We had such a fun friendship going. Now it's just scrambling and game talk with Sarah and Cody. It's a lot. I'm still not sure whether I want to tell Sarah about my super idol but I'm guessing Cody already had. That's why he's pressurising me to tell Sarah lmao. Also I'm not sure where their heads are at and how they feel about me. Whether they are just keeping me here because of my superidol. Either way, I guess I'm glad to be here.
Olivia A
Cody has been VERY enthusiastic about the fact that he wants to work closely with me moving forward. In this challenge, however, when given the choice to take away Pedro’s immunity or my immunity, he took away mine!! That was very telling that they are trying to pull Pedro in for numbers and don’t actually want to work with us lol. Kinda stupid of them.
Maddison
Pedro keeps scrapping by and is definitely now working with old Hanuha... Pedro! you’re on the bottom with them!! (and us too, oop)
Pedro A
okay everyone is feeling pity for me...WHICH IS AMAZING.....i can use that to get a little further in the game...even tho i still think my days are numbered....BUT I THINK WE MIGHT GET MADDISON´S ass out of game..its my only chance to stay lol
Aimee
I dedicate this song to Maddison! Alina Baraz - Trust https://youtu.be/Akgs6Lu0AiI I’m so happy I can trust you in this game. I feel it. You really comforted me when Grae and then Ben got their torches snuffed. You have never wronged me and I think I’m a good judge of character. We just click. I’m glad I can just pour all myself out to you and all my game thoughts. You never know when you’re the next one off the skype island and I want you to know everything. I’m not writing your name down in this game. Old Hanuha it’s gonna have to blindside me a 4th time. Lol and I’m closer with Pedro in this game than they realize. So if they try to pull his vote, hopefully I will know. 🤞 I honestly hope I wasn’t too suspicious on last immunity challenge that I never cut your rope. I wish you didn’t get out first round in this one! 😢😟 Aimee
Pedro has really helped pass the time at jury duty today. It’s fun chatting with him about the legal systems in our countries and cracking jokes at each other. Speaking of game for a moment, you can’t just ignore someone in this game like Pedro and treat them like an outcast and then expect to use them when you see fit. I have a genuine connection with him and even now I’m sitting here wondering.... do I save him this vote? There’s a lot to consider. It’s funny how old Hanuha thinks they can just grab any old Maola and work with them. Sorry guys you might be a little bit late to that game. I’ve heard from just about all of them how disingenuous old Hanuha is being. Hahahahaha sorry but I’ve been there with all of old Maola WAY before you have. They can see that I’ve been forthcoming and building relationships for days and not some last minute sketch as hell thing. It truly pays off to not lie or be messy when you have no reason to be. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been blindsided and left out so much....I had no choice but to adapt my game. Maybe one day you’ll find out what that’s like too? I’ve been thinking so many steps far ahead and predicting potential moves before they happen. It’ll take a lot for them to get an old Maola vote without me knowing about it. https://64.media.tumblr.com/5edf24d4321044ba332b90b161d0f442/587280b4d69b93c7-b5/s400x600/8f010451e459cb39058854d9655031b4bb9b617f.gifv
Maddison
I know I’m a target again tonight, so its a good thing I have the idol in my pocket.
Olivia A
Maddison found an idol!! We think they are going to go for Maddison so she’ll play it for herself and we’re going to vote Cody out. He might have an idol too, though, so we might switch it to Najwah and hope they don’t expect that. I think we have Aimee with us so if we get Cody or Najwah out we’ll be in the majority.
Najwah
So the plan initially was to get Olivia out but Amy L messaged me to tell me that her tribe is trying to get Aimee on board to vote me out? And apparently Pedro is on board with that too. However, Amy wants to get Maddison out but just not right now. And that's problematic because I really wish Amy would work with me. At what point does she want to work with me I don't understand. Also, she's talking to Pedro about her and my alliance and its starting to freak me out. For some reason she thinks I'm at the bottom of my alliance? Sigh. So she told us Olivia has an idol which puts a spanner in the works. It's two hours to tribal and I think I'm about to get blindsided lmao. Unless I vote for Amy, this is a high possibility. If she just came to work with me to get Maddison out, I could protect her but as long as she's part of their alliance, I can't really do much. I honestly wish she'd just vote with us. I don't want to get her out. I wanted an African Queen final. She suggested that we get Maddison or Olivia out and then she, her and Pedro and Maddison start our own alliance and get Cody, Sarah and Aimee out. And then Maddison and it's her, me and Pedro in the final. 💀 I just.. I don't want to betray people to that extent. Yes it's a game but also, it's just a game. I hate that I'll have to write Amy down for this. HATE It and it makes me fucking sad but whyyyyy won't she just work with us. Now she has my fake idol too dammit. We could trick Maddison so easily. Ugh. I just hope she'd change her mind within the next couple of hours. I really don't want to lose the one person I trust in this game. Fuck. While Magnificent Maddison is still in? Our game could definitely go to shit. Who's to say Aimee won't vote with Maddison and Pedro next. Why are we not getting the biggest threat out? I don't understand. Even Amy thinks she's a threat but when it comes doen to it she just never wants to vote her? Whyyyyyy
Sarah
My video link won’t upload so... I’ll send this in for now.
For tonight’s vote, the four old Hanuha and Pedro want to vote together and we don’t have too much of a preference who we vote for. But, Naj found out through Amy that Olivia has an idol so we can either make it sound like we are voting Olivia or Maddison and hopefully flush an idol. So I talked to Naj and said I think we may be safer to vote Amy because we know an idol won’t be played on her and Amy won’t vote with or work with Naj completely. Amy is just being a messagener so she’s not really worth keeping around if she won’t work with us. Also, I don’t think Aimee wants to vote Olivia or Maddison. So the plan is to blindside Amy tonight and hopefully nothing crazy happens with advantages.
Olivia A
Maddison found an idol!! We think they are going to go for Maddison so she’ll play it for herself and we’re going to vote Cody out. He might have an idol too, though, so we might switch it to Najwah and hope they don’t expect that. I think we have Aimee with us so if we get Cody or Najwah out we’ll be in the majority.
Amy A
There’s so much happening in my personal life and this game is my sanity which is funny because it’s ANYTHING but sane in here. The vote is going bonkers once again. I don’t know what will happen. There are names everywhere. I just hope I survive another night.
Olivia A
So the official plan is to vote Najwah. Amy told Pedro that we’re voting Cody so hopefully he relays that false info to Hanuha people. He also accidentally sent Amy some messages along the lines of “amy and maddison want me to vote w them but don’t even tell me the plan...” lmao so we have it confirmed that he’s telling Hanuha everything. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that Pedro didn’t include me in that/assume I’m working with them. Maybe I am a goat! Not sure. Everything Maddison has done (whom everyone thinks is the big target) is something that I also did. We’ve been working in collaboration literally the whole game and come up with all plans together. That doesn’t feel like a goat to me.
Pedro A
I'm FUCKING SCAREDDDDD....like I don't trust Maddison and olivia....why would I vote with them...but at the same time...... I would just get 6th and 5th...LIKE COME ON...from the bottom to the powerful position..Idk how much more I can take...IM DYINGGGGGGGGGGGGG KILL ME ALREADY...sorry im literally a psycho ...#streampsycho by red velvet THO....but at the same time...Amy wants me to vote Cody......I CAN'T BE THE LAST MALE IN THE GAME....everyone will come for me
Maddison
I know I’m a target again tonight, so its a good thing I have the idol in my pocket.
Olivia A
Ahhh now Amy is being sus. She said she started talking to Najwah pretending she was interested in flipping to get info. But she never shared that w Maddison and me while it was happening so that makes me think she was actually interested in flipping. Also she apparently told Najwah that Maddison and I are super close! I don’t like that. I feel like I’m going home tonight.
Cody A.
https://youtu.be/l8RU7yci6kY
Cody A.
https://youtu.be/u5Wj3o0jqZE
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Ruminations-life, love, relationships
For the past nine months I haven’t been pursuing a boyfriend or boyfriends until either 1, my mental health improves, 2, I can move on from being a part-time caregiver for my mom and let my brother take over, 3, I can find a better job/career, or all of the above, but I’ve been feeling so lonely lately that I’m wondering if I should just say “fuck it” and get back on both growlr and twitter. Still, I feel like I haven’t gotten out a lot of my own thoughts about my personal shortcomings in my last relationship and other concerns before pursuing another one, and this is as good a place as any as no one’s really here anymore, so long story incoming...
About 6 years ago, after coming out as a proud lover of large, hefty men I started exploring chub/gainer communities around in the area and after a while found a big fella who ended up becoming my best friend, whom I’ll call C. We bonded very quickly; after a while we were hanging out once a week consistently and I soon developed feelings for him.
Around the time C and I were hanging out and bonding, my dad was diagnosed with stage four bladder cancer and 3.5 years ago passed away. 6 or so months after that C asked if I wanted us to be more than just friends, but I put him off because I was in a bad mental state, partly from my dad's brutal battle with cancer and partly from my own insecurities. This hurt C far more than I knew at the time, and I still don’t forgive myself for causing him that much pain.
Early 2018
Some time later, March 2018, I told C I was being dumb and that I loved him deeply, and we started dating, but he told me that in that time he had discovered the pup community and found a sir/handler, S, who was moving to the area soon with his other 2 pups. I on the other hand in that time had been looking for community with the Seattle bears and chubs, however I felt their scene was kind of cliquey, financially discriminatory, and on occasion racist (despite how physically attractive I found a lot of them--this was really frustrating for someone who is only attracted to bigger, fluffier men).
So in the first couple months of C and my relationship I started exploring the pup scene/fetish online and in a couple of gatherings, and enjoyed a lot of what I saw, but it also left me with more questions than answers (turns out I'm far more switch than dom) and C certainly couldn't answer all of them given the fact that he was still a very new puppy. He specifically admitted that the details of our relationship became harder because I wanted to explore pup play, but at the same time wasn't at all sympathetic because I was partly exploring pup play just because he was into it, which he really didn't like (I also lied about this which still makes me feel sick, and danced around the issue instead of just being honest and saying "babe I just wanted to explore and be involved in the things you like"). This became even harder for me because C was being quickly welcomed into S's family, and got his collar soon after they moved to the area. I didn't want at all to intrude on their family because it would be psycho rude and I didn't even know any of them, but I was also deeply protective of C at the same time, and didn’t know how to handle my insecurities. I wish I had the emotional knowledge then that I do now. Starting to date C was a big change for me going from open-but-committed to my first poly relationship, so I was upset that I couldn't explore poly WITH C. It didn't seem fair.
Jealousy took over and I started telling C that I might want to pursue a family like S had, because if he was able to build a family exclusively of cute, chub pups than so could I. C cautioned me that S got very lucky compared to most, and that the likelihood of me being able to find a few gay partners all of the chubby variety and all of whom are compatible was very unlikely, and even if possible would take years (but, to my frustration, he would never give me a clear NO). While this sat heavy with me and I knew he was most likely right, it didn't help with my feelings of complete helplessness and isolation in my situation. I continued to ruminate. A big part of it that I fully regret and admit to is jealousy, and I had no idea before this whole situation that I was such a jealous person. But there was also massive anxiety--the feeling that there was nothing I could do, a feeling I don't handle that feeling very well, and I think it made my jealousy worse.
So instead of being patient, exploring pup play, enjoying the chub/chaser relationship I had with C, and just seeing how things went, I BADGERED C for some 7-8 weeks with impossible questions like...
"how would dom (me) and sub (him) pup interactions work given the fact he already has a handler?"
or "how can we ever belong to a larger family unit together (this was a big one for me) if your family is full," (I wasn’t his handler’s type anyway. He likes big chubs like I do so deep down I knew this was putting pressure on C to expand our relationship without asking if that was ok first),
or "what if in my explorations I discover I want want to be a handler or just part of a larger family, and somehow want you to be a part of that with me together without stepping on your handler's toes? How will that be possible?" (I knew C was an introvert and probably wouldn’t really have the energy/time to put into another complex relationship like that with me).
I knew that these questions were impossible to answer but still I continued to harass him, even though C told me on multiple occasions I was stressing him out and needed to back off and handle my jealousy and insecurities ("jealousy is poison in poly relationships", he said, and wasn't wrong). And in Fall, after a heated argument, he requested we take a 1 month break, which I spent learning to meditate and mitigate my anxiety and insecurities, while also begging fate for us to be able to stay together. When we met back up, I made my case that I was working hard to overcome anxiety and jealousy, but he told me the damage had been done. I was crushed.
Late 2018
After we broke up I continued to pursue meditation, but to be completely honest it barely kept the anxiety at bay and eventually I just gave up. I lost sleep over losing C for some 5 months, unable to clear my head of all those unanswerable questions for at least 2 hours most nights before falling asleep. I had lost both my best friend and lover, and at the time he was still rooming with my gaming friends and it was awkward for me to hang out, so I just felt alone, which is, without doubt, my one driving fear and what I wanted to avoid at all possible costs.
I remember thinking over and over again that I wished I had never put C off in the first place and had admitted my feelings to him sooner, but at the same time wouldn't have wanted anything to change as far as him meeting S and family. I just wanted things to somehow work between us as I explored what it meant for me to be poly.
Nov-Feb
In the months following our breakup I fought to recover from these feelings of loneliness by STILL continuing to attending pup social events and even a mosh (though I didn't participate in the mosh). It was hard when I would see S and his three pups show up, and I had to fight off nagging bad thoughts every time it happened. Still, I met a couple of very nice chubby pups who I bonded with and became friends. Sadly, despite liking both of them, one couldn't afford to live in Seattle anymore and moved back to Wisconsin, and the other (whom I really liked but was too damaged from my breakup to pursue) got adopted by a couple of husbands and moved just outside of Milwaukee with them. It felt like the universe was picking on me for my fear of being left out or rejected. I was alone again.
Somehow I persisted and survived, but my memories of the few months after that are such a dull blur I'm not sure I was even alive at the time. C and I are good friends again and I have a core group of friends (including him) who I feel close to and game with about once every 2 weeks. I still love him a lot but he's not looking for anything and I need to moderate my attraction to him. Also, time I spend hanging out with him is time I'm not spending looking for a big partner to call my own so I feel weird sometimes when I play around with him and my feelings are so fucking strong. I would like to find a guy I have that connection with who also wants to live together. It's depressing how hard something that simple is to find.
Anyways this has gone on for far too long, but I needed to write down my ruminations somewhere and also double down on goals and reminders for future relationships so I don't make the same mistakes I did before:
-If I'm attracted to a guy as much as I was attracted to C, I need to remember and understand that there probably will be major consequences to putting them off, even if it's for my own comfort.
-If a guy asks me to give him space, legitimately do it, and don't be actively looking for the next opportunity to talk about difficult things.
-If I date a man and he has a master or another family, I need to be happy for him, and not try to follow in his path, unless that's something he would enjoy/welcome (C didn’t, and I didn’t want to accept that). But also emphasize that a family like that is what I’m looking for and ask him to be gentle/supportive with me while I pursue it.
-If I date a man with a master, I need to be patient, respectful, and willing to communicate with him at his pace. After a while I can hopefully ask if I can work to earn the handler/master’s trust to not have to ask permission to do most things with my partner. If that option isn’t available, then it’s probably not the relationship for me.
-Accept that large men who are happy being large and soft are few and far between, and finding one into me is going to take significantly longer than a typical gay relationship, and that if I'm not out there looking, the few opportunities that are there are going to come and go.
-Learn to balance being flexible with knowing my limits, and knowing when to put my foot down. I honestly should have been the first to cut my relationship off with C because he didn't want his partners to cross or for sexual experiences in one bedroom to be shared in the other's bedroom. And right away that should have been a huge warning sign for me because that's something that's very important to me in a poly relationship (though at the time I was very new to poly so that was the first time I discovered what I wanted). I think I partly held on to him so hard because, other than my emotional feelings for him (which built up over some 3+years), there just aren't that many 300+lb non-judgmental guys who are going to find me as attractive as I find them. Regardless, no matter how many boxes a guy ticks for me, if something bugs me that much then I need to not settle.
-Patience. Patience. Patience. I need to learn to relax. It's possible that everything between C and I would have worked out if I'd just been patient. Perhaps not, but I'll never know how much I can accomplish with patience unless I try.
Well, I guess it's time to get back on growlr, dig up my old twitter, and hope for the best.
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“the Queen praised your French conversation highly”
...“She said: “I have told you more than any other envoy and more than I have told my Estates, who receive from me no other answer than that I am too much burdened with cares to turn my attention to marriage; for Love is usually the offspring of leisure, and as I am so beset by duties, I have not been able to think of Love. As, therefore, nothing has as yet urged me to marry, I have not been able to meditate upon this or that man. If I am to disclose to you what I should prefer if I follow the inclination of my nature, I will tell you. It is this: Beggarwoman and single, far rather than Queen and married. Only necessity and no other reasons (unless it be a ring of compulsion) would induce me to marry. Let this suffice you. I cannot name this man or another, and what you erstwhile said about the foreign Prince, has made me reveal to you more of my inward feelings.”
I now began to speak French: “Madam, I was confident that Your Majesty would have deemed me worthy of a better answer, and fearlessly do I assert that my Lord and Sovereign and all those who love the public weal will be greatly grieved that this highly important matter has thus been abandoned. All depends upon one little word, upon a declaration, upon the will of Your Majesty which you could with all safety secretly tell my Prince and no one in the world would learn of it, and yet now out of pure wantonness Your Majesty wishes to abandon the affair which you did not refuse before and which you promised in August.”
“Do you desire me to speak French?” said she.
“That shall be as your Majesty pleases,” said I. She now began to reiterate that it was not she, but the Emperor, who had broken off the negotiations, and that it was the truth that he had promised her that Charles would come. She then said: “The King of Spain knows that this is so; for know, he sent me letters which I was to deliver to Charles here. When he was informed by me that the Emperor had recalled his envoy and had changed his mind, he was very angry. But, be that as it may, the Emperor did not desire to have me as a daughter-in-law. It is known that because I was so greatly slandered, he thought better of it, and I cannot begin again without covering myself with ignominy.”
I said: “ But, it being necessary, the question is how shall we set about it? Your Majesty lately told me that you had vowed not to marry until you had seen your consort to be; and this it is that creates difficulties, for it is not customary among Princes.”
“I will not dwell upon that. I find some difficulty in speaking French, having so long been accustomed to speaking Latin. But how shall I speak to Charles on meeting him in London, when he addresses me in the German of Constantinople? For I understand German quite well, although I do not speak it.”
I said: “He speaks good Latin and also French.”
“No,” she cried, “he speaks very little French and still less Latin. The King of Denmark, the king of Sweden and the son of the King of Portugal gladly came here to show themselves to me, although I did not demand it of them, and the barbaric King of Sweden went to great expanse for the marriage. But how should we ever have agreed with such a difference in manners. For, however much I might accommodate myself, it is greatly to be feared that they would never give up their habits.”
“In that respect, Madam,” said I, “you have nothing to fear in this marriage. For there are no two nations in the world so much alike, both in manners and in dress, as the English and the Germans. Charles having been brought up at the Court of so great a potentate and in Germany where the manners are the most ceremonious in the world, cannot possibly have any but the very best of manners. For in this respect the Germans hold with the Italians.”
“That pleases me,” said she, “for I like the manners and customs of the Italians better than those of all the rest of the world, and I am, as it were, half Italian.”
“But, Madam,” said I, “will you not come nearer to our goal and vouchsafe to my Prince the satisfaction of the kind answer which he in all despite expects from Your Majesty?”
“I can say nothing else,” she answered,” for if I were to give an answer to the minor premise I should be binding myself to the major, and you would draw the inference.”
“Your Majesty well knows that the gulf between us is very broad and also that one little word can bridge it. May not my Prince, with Your Majesty’s consent, endeavour to persuade the Emperor to resume the negotiations? For I am certain that if Your Majesty were to acquiesce but a little, an envoy would be there at no distant date.”
“That depends upon the Emperor,” said she, “but if your Prince were to come as an envoy, it would cause me the greatest joy.”
“That can scarce be done,” said I, “but what of your consent?”
“You have heard from my own lips that I do not of my own free will consent to a marriage, but only under compulsion; and to invite anyone to marry me is not in my nature.” ...
***
“On the morning of the 27th I went to pay my respects to the Secretary, and seeing me wearing my cap he asked, “You are equipped for the journey?”
I then told him that a longer stay was quite useless, for all hopes of obtaining a better answer had yesterday been definitely cut off. Whereupon he said: “But the Queen praised your French conversation highly, and said that she had much enjoyed it.”
Ahasverus Allinga, the envoy of the Duke of Würtemberg, reporting his conversation with Elizabeth I about the marriage negotiations with the Archduke Charles and his potential coming to England. 30 January 1564. Source
I think Allinga switched to French to confuse Elizabeth, to throw her off balance and to move her to give him the answer he wanted but it didn’t work. Elizabeth stood her ground both in Latin and French.
#Ahasverus Allinga#Elizabeth I#Elizabeth I of England#Elizabeth Tudor#sources#also is it only me or Elizabeth was making some things up here?#I'm pretty sure the king of Denmark didn't visit her#as well as the son of the king of Portugal#the king of Sweden attempted to but Elizabeth protested against his coming!
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Greta Thunberg speech to MPs at UK Parliament Tue 23rd Apr
My name is Greta Thunberg. I am 16 years old. I come from Sweden. And I speak on behalf of future generations.
I know many of you don’t want to listen to us – you say we are just children. But we’re only repeating the message of the united climate science.
Many of you appear concerned that we are wasting valuable lesson time, but I assure you we will go back to school the moment you start listening to science and give us a future. Is that really too much to ask?
In the year 2030 I will be 26 years old. My little sister Beata will be 23. Just like many of your own children or grandchildren. That is a great age, we have been told. When you have all of your life ahead of you. But I am not so sure it will be that great for us.
I was fortunate to be born in a time and place where everyone told us to dream big; I could become whatever I wanted to. I could live wherever I wanted to. People like me had everything we needed and more. Things our grandparents could not even dream of. We had everything we could ever wish for and yet now we may have nothing.
Now we probably don’t even have a future any more.
Because that future was sold so that a small number of people could make unimaginable amounts of money. It was stolen from us every time you said that the sky was the limit, and that you only live once.
You lied to us. You gave us false hope. You told us that the future was something to look forward to. And the saddest thing is that most children are not even aware of the fate that awaits us. We will not understand it until it’s too late. And yet we are the lucky ones. Those who will be affected the hardest are already suffering the consequences. But their voices are not heard.
Is my microphone on? Can you hear me?
Around the year 2030, 10 years 252 days and 10 hours away from now, we will be in a position where we set off an irreversible chain reaction beyond human control, that will most likely lead to the end of our civilisation as we know it. That is unless in that time, permanent and unprecedented changes in all aspects of society have taken place, including a reduction of CO2 emissions by at least 50%.
And please note that these calculations are depending on inventions that have not yet been invented at scale, inventions that are supposed to clear the atmosphere of astronomical amounts of carbon dioxide.
Furthermore, these calculations do not include unforeseen tipping points and feedback loops like the extremely powerful methane gas escaping from rapidly thawing arctic permafrost.
Nor do these scientific calculations include already locked-in warming hidden by toxic air pollution. Nor the aspect of equity – or climate justice – clearly stated throughout the Paris agreement, which is absolutely necessary to make it work on a global scale.
We must also bear in mind that these are just calculations. Estimations. That means that these “points of no return” may occur a bit sooner or later than 2030. No one can know for sure. We can, however, be certain that they will occur approximately in these timeframes, because these calculations are not opinions or wild guesses.
These projections are backed up by scientific facts, concluded by all nations through the IPCC. Nearly every single major national scientific body around the world unreservedly supports the work and findings of the IPCC.
Did you hear what I just said? Is my English OK? Is the microphone on? Because I’m beginning to wonder.
During the last six months I have travelled around Europe for hundreds of hours in trains, electric cars and buses, repeating these life-changing words over and over again. But no one seems to be talking about it, and nothing has changed. In fact, the emissions are still rising.
When I have been travelling around to speak in different countries, I am always offered help to write about the specific climate policies in specific countries. But that is not really necessary. Because the basic problem is the same everywhere. And the basic problem is that basically nothing is being done to halt – or even slow – climate and ecological breakdown, despite all the beautiful words and promises.
The UK is, however, very special. Not only for its mind-blowing historical carbon debt, but also for its current, very creative, carbon accounting.
Since 1990 the UK has achieved a 37% reduction of its territorial CO2 emissions, according to the Global Carbon Project. And that does sound very impressive. But these numbers do not include emissions from aviation, shipping and those associated with imports and exports. If these numbers are included the reduction is around 10% since 1990 – or an an average of 0.4% a year, according to Tyndall Manchester.
And the main reason for this reduction is not a consequence of climate policies, but rather a 2001 EU directive on air quality that essentially forced the UK to close down its very old and extremely dirty coal power plants and replace them with less dirty gas power stations. And switching from one disastrous energy source to a slightly less disastrous one will of course result in a lowering of emissions.
But perhaps the most dangerous misconception about the climate crisis is that we have to “lower” our emissions. Because that is far from enough. Our emissions have to stop if we are to stay below 1.5-2C of warming. The “lowering of emissions” is of course necessary but it is only the beginning of a fast process that must lead to a stop within a couple of decades, or less. And by “stop” I mean net zero – and then quickly on to negative figures. That rules out most of today’s politics.
The fact that we are speaking of “lowering” instead of “stopping” emissions is perhaps the greatest force behind the continuing business as usual. The UK’s active current support of new exploitation of fossil fuels – for example, the UK shale gas fracking industry, the expansion of its North Sea oil and gas fields, the expansion of airports as well as the planning permission for a brand new coal mine – is beyond absurd.
This ongoing irresponsible behaviour will no doubt be remembered in history as one of the greatest failures of humankind.
People always tell me and the other millions of school strikers that we should be proud of ourselves for what we have accomplished. But the only thing that we need to look at is the emission curve. And I’m sorry, but it’s still rising. That curve is the only thing we should look at.
Every time we make a decision we should ask ourselves; how will this decision affect that curve? We should no longer measure our wealth and success in the graph that shows economic growth, but in the curve that shows the emissions of greenhouse gases. We should no longer only ask: “Have we got enough money to go through with this?” but also: “Have we got enough of the carbon budget to spare to go through with this?” That should and must become the centre of our new currency.
Many people say that we don’t have any solutions to the climate crisis. And they are right. Because how could we? How do you “solve” the greatest crisis that humanity has ever faced? How do you “solve” a war? How do you “solve” going to the moon for the first time? How do you “solve” inventing new inventions?
The climate crisis is both the easiest and the hardest issue we have ever faced. The easiest because we know what we must do. We must stop the emissions of greenhouse gases. The hardest because our current economics are still totally dependent on burning fossil fuels, and thereby destroying ecosystems in order to create everlasting economic growth.
“So, exactly how do we solve that?” you ask us – the schoolchildren striking for the climate.
And we say: “No one knows for sure. But we have to stop burning fossil fuels and restore nature and many other things that we may not have quite figured out yet.”
Then you say: “That’s not an answer!”
So we say: “We have to start treating the crisis like a crisis – and act even if we don’t have all the solutions.”
“That’s still not an answer,” you say.
Then we start talking about circular economy and rewilding nature and the need for a just transition. Then you don’t understand what we are talking about.
We say that all those solutions needed are not known to anyone and therefore we must unite behind the science and find them together along the way. But you do not listen to that. Because those answers are for solving a crisis that most of you don’t even fully understand. Or don’t want to understand.
You don’t listen to the science because you are only interested in solutions that will enable you to carry on like before. Like now. And those answers don’t exist any more. Because you did not act in time.
Avoiding climate breakdown will require cathedral thinking. We must lay the foundation while we may not know exactly how to build the ceiling.
Sometimes we just simply have to find a way. The moment we decide to fulfil something, we can do anything. And I’m sure that the moment we start behaving as if we were in an emergency, we can avoid climate and ecological catastrophe. Humans are very adaptable: we can still fix this. But the opportunity to do so will not last for long. We must start today. We have no more excuses.
We children are not sacrificing our education and our childhood for you to tell us what you consider is politically possible in the society that you have created. We have not taken to the streets for you to take selfies with us, and tell us that you really admire what we do.
We children are doing this to wake the adults up. We children are doing this for you to put your differences aside and start acting as you would in a crisis. We children are doing this because we want our hopes and dreams back.
I hope my microphone was on. I hope you could all hear me.
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Imagine Tony has been in the habit of enthusiastically indulging Bucky anytime Bucky actually chooses something. But Bucky has gotten too used to it, and is sort of riding roughshod over Tony now. (Not maliciously, just thoughtlessly.) Tony of course has no idea how to talk about the issue and so has been just going with it and letting it build and build. Finally a(nother?) major boundary is crossed and Bucky realizes what's been happening. Cue amends/compromises for a happy ending?
[A/N: This takes place in our Communal Kitchen ‘verse, between chapters 33 and 34 of Winter is Coming. But you don’t need to have read that to read this.]
Buckywas Bucky again, and not the Winter Soldier, thank god for smallmercies. Seeing Bucky triggered -- and then being forced to triggerhim again in order to win him back -- it had been one of the worstexperiences of Tony’s life.
AndTony had quite a few terrible experiences to choose from.
Ithad been even worse for Bucky, of course, and it was showing. Evenback to himself, he was quiet and withdrawn. And it didn’t takelong for Tony to realize that he was falling back into the habit ofletting others -- especially Tony -- tell him what to do.
Buckyhad noticed it, too; Tony could see him struggling with it. Therewasn’t much Tony could do to help, aside from watch his ownphrasing and try to be supportive of Bucky’s efforts to fight thoseingrained instincts. And to reward assertions of Bucky’s ownpreferences over Tony’s.
Ithad started small -- Tony said, “How do you feel about Chinese fordinner?” and Bucky had visibly braced himself before he responded,“Nah, I’d rather have Italian tonight.”
Tonyhad been craving eggrolls, but supporting Bucky’s fragileindependence was infinitely more important. He could have eggrollsany time. So Tony had swooped in on his boyfriend and kissed himbreathless. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
Andso it went.
Itwasn’t like it was hard. Simple things. Food choices -- and whenhad Tony ever really cared about food, except as fuel, so switchingfrom Mexican to Indian wasn’t too much of a big deal. Or movies;and after Bucky had watched enough modern cinema to have developed ataste in movies at all -- aside from just watching with all thediscernment of a four-year-old -- they were mostly compatible in thatdirection.
Buckyliked science fiction, the more cerebral and speculative, the better.He scoffed at the original StarTrek,but devoured JupiterAscendinglikeit was Oscar worthy. Bucky might have had bad taste, there, but hey,it was just a movie. Tony had sat through worse. Really, he had. Hewas sure of it. Maybe. But it was okay, they couldn’t agree oneverymoviethey watched.
Theworst part about it was on the rare occasion where Tony argued(because he was Tony and he always argued; it was in his very natureto be contrary). When Tony pushed back, Bucky would flinch,like he expected Tony to hit him. Or spew a mouthful of hateful wordsat him. Bucky recovered, quick enough, usually with a shake of hishead and a ready smile, and sometimes with a kiss, but Tony noticedhe was always… just a little less himself, after. For a while.
SoTony tried to argue less. With Bucky, anyway. Nothing was importantenough to see Bucky cringe like that, even for an instant, to have toremember Bucky’s life held in his hands. And really, Bucky askedfor so little, and he was so loving and generous with Tony...Relationships were about compromise, right?
Pepperwould be proud of how he’d grown.
[mobile readers, ‘ware the readmore!]
Sowhat if Bucky wanted to take the Tesla when they went out, instead ofTony’s favorite Audi?
Itwasn’t like it was any trouble. It wasn’t like Tony didn’t liketheTesla, too.
Okay,Tony did get in trouble the time that Bucky had wanted to stay in bedand cuddle, and Tony had missed an early investors meeting. Pepperhad been livid.“I didn’t forget,” Tony protested when she paused to draw abreath. “I just lost track of time, a little. Bucky wanted a littleextra cuddling this morning, and you know he’s been under theweather lately.”
“Tony,your boyfriend is older than you and me and Jim put together,”Pepper snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. “He is grown upenough to be left to his own devices, whereas the Japanese PrimeMinister wanted some personalreassurancesthat integrating Stark Technologies for the majority of their publicutilities coordination was going to go smoothly. Reassurances that cannot give him, because I am a woman.” This was even moredangerous, although Tony would like to point out that certaindisagreeable sexism issues in other countries were entirely outsideof his wheelhouse. “Japan has a population density of three hundredand fifty per square mile; that’s a lot of people to be withoutpower if these new grids can’t hold up to the strain!”
“Ipromise I will go and see him at the embassy before his trip isover,” Tony swore. “Seriously, I didn’t mean to miss it, Ijust...” He trailed off, and held up his hands helplessly. “Comeon, Pep; you know me better than that. You know I didn’t mean it.”
“Iunderstand that you are indulging your boyfriend, and I’m veryhappy for you that you seem to have learned somethingaboutrelationships,” Pepper said, and she was gritting her teeth in away that suggested happywasthe least of her emotions at this particular point in time. “However,you have more than one relationship. Friends, and co-workers, and acorporation. Balance, Tony.” She sighed at his particularly hangdoglook. “Stop giving me the Bambi eyes. I’ll send him a fruitbasket. But you’d better get out there. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“Absolutely,I promise.”
WhenTony came back from his visit with the Japanese Prime Minister, hefound Bucky hunched over a computer terminal, feverishly comparing...climbing tools? “Hey, babe. What’s cooking?”
Buckylooked up, giving Tony a wide, brilliant smile. “Tony, hi,” hesaid. “Missed you.” He reached out and tugged Tony into his lap.“Was watchin’ some television while you were gone. Documentary onthe Discovery channel. Kinda reminded me a bit -- well, minus theorcs and trolls -- of that movie, what was it? With the littlehobbits, and the ring? That. Yeah. And you know, there’s a spot,Voronja, out in Georgia -- the slavic Georgia, not the state. I wasthere once, for a mission, but I thought it’d be nice to see whenI’m in my right mind. Deepest cave on the planet, they say.”
Well,that sounded moderately horrible. Tony had pretty much avoided cavessince the whole Afghanistan kidnapping incident. But far be it fromhim to discourage another’s fun. “Yeah? You should do that,” heagreed. “Sounds like a heck of a trip.”
“Yeah?”Bucky snuggled up against him, rubbing his chin on Tony’s back.“It’d be fun, right? When do you think we might be able t’ getaway for a bit?”
“...We?”Oh god, Bucky wasn’t thinking that they’d bothgo,was he? “You mean, we,we?”
“No,me an’ Steve,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Of course, we.Us. You an’ me. Like, a vacation.”
“Avacation. In Georgia,” Tony repeated. “In a cave.”
Buckymade an amused little noise. “Legally, I think I’m stillconsidered a Russian citizen.” That had to be a joke, Bucky hadn’tbeen considered a legal anything for most of seventy years. He hadn’texisted, officially, on any country’s census.
“Idon’t know,” Tony hedged. “This thing with Japan has Pepperwound pretty tight. Might be a while before I can get away.”
“Oh,yeah, okay,” Bucky said. He swiped the screen with his right hand,spinning the menu options away. “It… it can wait. Cave’s notgoing anywhere.”
Damnit, he sounded so disappointed. So dejected. Tony scrubbed his handover his face. “Give me a couple of days,” he said, “and I’lltalk to Pepper, see what we can arrange. Maybe we can make it astopover on the way to Japan or something.” He’d never been anygood at denying Bucky anything.
“Great,”Bucky said, and he sounded really pleased. “You know, there’s somuch I remember from then, an’ ain’t very much of it good. I’dlike to show you one of the few things I remember that was pretty.”He nuzzled at Tony’s neck. “You’re th’ best.”
Andnow Tony would have to be the world’s biggest heel to deny him.
Tonykissed Bucky and resigned himself to a cave. And a round or three ofnightmares.
***
Buckyhad ended up on the far side of the bed again. Tony sometimes calledit the continental drift, where both of them pushed away and therewas a huge swath of empty bed between them. It didn’t happen toooften; the room temperatures were usually quite cool and Bucky putout a lot of body heat, which meant Tony was often curled up on oneside or the other.
Absently,Bucky put out his hand and started patting around for his boyfriend.
Therewasn’t even a Tony-shaped divot in the bed. The memory foam hadcooled enough to be smooth and flat.
Buckyopened his eyes. A distinct lack of Tony in the room. He listened. NoTony in the penthouse, actually. Huh. Bucky was only a particularlydeep sleeper in the first couple hours after he fell asleep. Afterthat, Tony shifting around to get out of bed would have woken him, atleast enough to remember Tony leaving. Sometimes he got an idea inthe middle of the night and had to go to the workshop.
“Hey,J,” Bucky said. “Tony down in the ‘shop?”
“Heis, sir,” JARVIS said. “I believe he woke early and did not wishto disturb your rest.” There was a brief pause, as if JARVIS wasconsidering. “If I might, sir, a word?”
Buckyflashed a grin, knowing JARVIS would see it wherever he was. “Youneed me to go rescue him from himself?” Tony was prone toforgetting to eat, sleep, drink, sometimes forgot even to go to thebathroom unless he was reminded, and over the years, he’d gottenremarkably good at ignoring JARVIS’s mild suggestions that hiscreator might, actually, be human and need to tend to his meat body.
“Presently,”JARVIS agreed. “In the interest of his continued good health,however, I wish to offer something of a trend analysis, if I might beso bold.”
“Haveyou, a day in your existence, ever been less than assertive?” Buckyloved the AI, considered JARVIS nearly as much of the family as Tonydid. Sassy, intelligent, and possessing a certain dry wit, andunimaginable depth of compassion for those humans he took under hiswing -- so to speak.
“Whereit pertains to Mr. Stark’s wellbeing, certainly not,” JARVISsaid. “I have noted a marked increase in restless nights over thelast ten days, and a significant uptick in fear response wakingpatterns indicative of nightmares, in the last four. Analysissuggests that the upswing began when plans were laid for yourupcoming trip.”
“Yeah?That Japan thing got him in a right lather? I know Miss Potts’sbeen givin’ him a bit of a hard time, but--” Bucky shrugged. Hedidn’t know. Business really wasn’t his area of expertise,except, perhaps, in sabotage. He wouldn’t have thought that wouldget Tony wound up, though. From all indications, the Prime Ministerhad been delighted with the system’s promised efficiency, and Tonyalmost never made technological promises he couldn’t deliver on.
“Mr.Stark has been to Japan on numerous occasions. It has never causedthis significant a deviation,” JARVIS said. “I believe the issuemay be with some plans for your stop in Georgia. Specifically, yourforay into spelunking.”
Thecave was beautiful, Bucky remembered that clearly, remembered beingstruck by the natural power of the place, even in the midst of whathad been a particularly tricky mission -- removing and relocating avaluable geologist whose hobby had been the exploration of caverns --without alerting anyone as to when or where he’d gone missing.
Heblinked. “Wait, Tony’s havin’ nightmares about spelunking?”
“Thatis my speculation, yes. Have you reviewed the file on Mr. Stark’skidnapping, some years past?”
“The…Ten Rings thing, or somethin’ further back?” Bucky knew that Tonyhad spend an inordinate amount of time being kidnapped or held forransom when he was a child, all the way up through his college years.It was kinda disgusting, really, that Howard had never been able totake better care of his own kid.
“Thatis the incident to which I refer, yes.” JARVIS had the tone of avery patient teacher with a particularly slow child. “Are youfamiliar with it?”
Buckywas familiar with a lot of Tony’s life. JARVIS even knew that, hadaccessed all the Hydra files Bucky had liberated about Tony Stark.The Afghanistan incident, that he only had passing knowledge of; theTen Rings hadn’t exactly filmed their brutalities, most of thetime. He’d seen a few pictures, the original ransom demand, theremains of the terrorist camp after Tony had destroyed it.
“He,uh. Got hurt, bad. Took shrapnel in the chest. Would have died,except some scientist put a damn electromagnet in his chest, to keepthe pieces from tearing his heart open,” Bucky said. That much waspretty common knowledge. Everything Bucky knew after that was…well, after. When Tony got back to the States and started on the paththat would eventually lead him to become Iron Man. “They, uh.Wanted him to build them a bomb and tortured him, when he refused.”Bucky shuddered, not liking to think of Tony, how alone he must havefelt, without even the damnable peace of cryo, the numbness ofmissions, to ease the agony.
“Indeed.The Ten Rings cell that held him made their camp, at least partially,within a system of caves in the mountains. He and his fellow prisonerwere kept in one of the deepest of these caves, to reduce the risk oftheir escape.”
Buckytook the force of that like one of Tony’s old missiles. Oh.
“Well,”Bucky said, slowly, “don’t I feel remarkably stupid.”And JARVIS had talked him through it like a toddler, forcing Bucky tocome to certain unpleasant conclusions, not only about the cave, butabout himself. “I… uh. Thank you for bringin’ this to myattention. I’ll… I should go talk to him, yeah?”
“Ithink that would be prudent,” JARVIS agreed primly.
Itdidn’t take him particularly long to get to the workshop,especially since he took the stairs. He’d long since proven than hewas faster than the elevator, a fact that annoyed Clint Barton to noend.
Giventhat JARVIS knew he was on his way, Bucky found it more than a littleannoying when the door didn’t open to his print. Bucky scowled,then knocked on the damn door.
Tonywas clearly visible, working at his usual station. He glanced up atthe knock and waved Bucky in. He made a face and said something,possibly to JARVIS, because the door clicked softly as it unlatchedand opened.
“Hey,sweetheart,” Tony said as Bucky came in. “Is it morning already?”
“‘Bouthalf past seven,” Bucky told him, as if Tony couldn’t check thetime. “I… hey.” He crossed the room and tipped Tony’s chinup, studying his face. A few days worth of stubble had filled in thespaces around his normally fastidiously cultivated facial hair, andthe circles under his eyes were probably visible from the moon.“Honey? Were you… were you gonna tell me?”
“Tellyou -- what? That I had a few bad dreams? It happens to all of us nowand then, nothing to do about it.”
“Yeah,I know that, we all get ‘em,” Bucky said. That much was true;there wasn’t a single member of the Avengers that didn’t sufferfrom the occasional sleepless night. He chewed his lip. “Old wivestale.. When you have a bad dream, you tell someone about it, shareit. And then, wham, you never have it again. Wanna tell me?”
Tonyshrugged, looked away. “Not much to it,” he said. “Stuck inAfghanistan again, only this time I can’t find my way out. Wind upcornered, out of ammo, power drained.” He held a breath, and let itall out in a gust. “Usually manage to wake up before they startshooting.”
Usually.
Buckydeposited a kiss on Tony’s curls, sticking up in all directions asif he’d been shoving his oily hands through them. He probably had,knowing Tony.
“Huh,”Bucky said. “Sounds terrible. I’m glad you’re okay, baby. Iget, you know I get ‘em, stupid nightmares. You know I can’t sitin th’ recliners, ‘cause being tipped back like that just gets mespun up.”
Tonynodded. “I know,” he said, more steadily. “I know that’s aproblem. That’s why we just have a bench down here, when I’mworking on your arm. I couldn’t do that to you.”
Buckytook a deep breath, pulled Tony in close. “So… uh. Why do youthink I’d wanna do that to you?”
“What?No, of course you wouldn’t!” Tony sounded genuinely offended onBucky’s behalf. “Why would you think that?”
Buckyhad to tread very carefully; Tony was prone to getting his back up,doubling-down, if he thought he had to prove something. “There areother things to do, in Georgia,” Bucky said. “Ruins, and somepretty little traditional villages, an’ all kinds of food shops.Wine tours. If you still want to go. I could even go do the cavesmyself, just for an afternoon.”
“Oh.”Tony sighed. “That’s not the same, honey. If you want me to gowith you -- you said you wanted to show it to me.”
“AndI do,” Bucky said, because he was pretty sure that it was importantnot to lie, even to spare Tony’s feelings. “I wantalot of things. But one thing I want, more than anything else? Is foryou to be happy and comfortable. Baby, if this thing isn’t going tomake you happy, then I don’t need it. That’s… that’s okay.”
Tonyshook his head. “I can’t just say no for every little thing youwant just because it’s not what I want,” he said. “That’s notfair.”
“You’renot sayin’ no to everything little--”
Oh.Oh, god.
“--Tony,you’re not saying no to anything.Like, ever.”Guilt shook Bucky all the way down to his core. “What the hell,Tony?” He pushed back a bit, so he could look down at Tony’sface, caught the way Tony’s eyes slid away from his gaze. “Tony?”
“Ican’t,” Tony said, eyes fixed firmly on the wall. “I can’tsay-- I mean, I can,obviously, I know I can, but you get so... it’s like you think I’mgoing to hurt you for picking the wrong thing, I can’t take it. Ican’t do that to you.”
Thenoise that came out of Bucky’s throat was practicallyunrecognizable as a word, a half-protest, half strangled groan. “Oh.”Bucky was a little wobbly in the knees, like a newborn baby deer.“Can… come here, come here, let’s--” Bucky teetered backwardand then shuffled, moving them over to the cot where he could sitdown, heavily. “I didn’t know.”
“Didn’tknow what?” Tony folded down next to him. “That you wereflinching? I’m not surprised, it’s just... something in youreyes, the way you hold your shoulders.”
Buckynodded. “Yeah, I c’n-- I see where it’s comin’ from. It’shard,asserting myself. I…” Bucky’s face and neck heated and heducked his chin so he didn’t have to look at Tony. “... you know,have to work my way up to it. Assets don’t have opinions. An’ Iknow, baby, I know. You’re tryin’ to make it easier for me. Iappreciate it, every bit of it, even if I didn’t quite notice atth’ time. But… Tony, we can’t go on like this, not either ofus.”
“Idon’t mind,” Tony said stubbornly. “Helping you is so much moreimportant than anything else.”
“Doesn’tseem very fair to you,” Bucky said. “An’ long run, I don’tthink it’s very fair to me, either. How’m I s’posed to getbetter at a thing, if I don’t get any practice. Tony, listen to me,please? Just… I swear, I don’t know why you think you deserve somuch lessthanI do. We’re partners, right?”
“Ofcourse.” Tony looked up at that, eyes searching Bucky’s face. “Iam listening, I just -- I’m trying to help you practice wantingthings,speaking up for yourself, having your own opinions. That’simportant, honey.”
“I’mnot disagreeingwithyou,” Bucky said, trying to untangle the situation. “I’m sayin’it’s more than yes/no. It… it’s not that simple, an’ I’msorry it took me so long t’ see that it wasn’t that simple. Iain’t been doing right by you, baby. My stupid messed up brain. So…hey, hey, stop lookin’ all sad like that, we’re gonna fix it,right, because that’s what adult people do when they’re in arelationship, okay. Okay?”
“Okay,”Tony agreed, though he still looked kind of sad. “I don’t knowhow, though. I want to help you. I likehelpingyou.”
Buckysmiled. “I like you helping me, too, honey. I like doing thingswith you, I like… all of this. What I don’t like, is yousacrificingyourcomfort for me. Okay? You gotta tell me these things, so that I know.Baby, I’d have never asked you t’ suffer, jus’ for me to have alark.”
“I’mnot--” Tony bit down on the lie, and huffed. “Yeah, okay. I...don’t want to go in any caves. That’s not... not my idea of fun.”
“Okay,Tony,” Bucky told him, and if he felt that vague tinge of unease,that sense of doom, he suppressed it as well as he could. It wasn’teasy, but that’s what they were doing, right. Compromise. It was athing. Bucky could feel uncomfortable for a few minutes, so Tonywouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable for several days leading up to,and probably after, and certainly during.“Then we don’t have to. So, do you still wanna go to Georgia, orwe can jus’ skip that an’ do vacation some other time, when we’vegot some time t’ think of something we bothwantto do?”
“Ialready wangled the time off out of Pepper,” Tony pointed out. “I’mnot about to admit to her that we could’ve scheduled the Japanmeeting earlier. We can still take a vacation together, like yousaid. Do some of that other stuff you mentioned.”
“Okay,Tony,” Bucky said. “We’ll do that. Tourist stuff. See all theplaces where I’ve been an’ didn’t notice what I was lookin’at. I like that idea. Honest.” He nuzzled into Tony’s hair,breathing in his scent. “I like spendin’ time with you. That’swhat’s most important, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,”Tony said, curling in closer. “Yeah, that part... That, I knew.”
“So…”Bucky said, still talking into Tony’s hair, “d’ you havesomehin’ down here you need or want t’ be doin’?” Maybe theycould make this work out, if Bucky knew what the expectations were,or the demands on Tony’s time, or his well being. Then he wouldn’thave to worry, when he asked for something, if he was beingunreasonable. And Tony wouldn’t have to be concerned that Bucky wasflinching, when he said no.
Tonylooked around at his shop. “Not really,” he said. “I wasjust... puttering, so I didn’t wake you up.”
Buckytraced a little circle on the back of Tony’s neck, then rubbed withhis thumb, soothing away tension. “I’m awake,” he pointed out,“if you wantedt’come upstairs an’ indulge me in some cuddling?”
Tonyappeared to give that some thought. “I think I have time for that,”he said, his mouth ticking up into a little teasing smirk. “I’dlike that.”
@27dragons & @tisfan
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Absolution (Part One)
A/N: Oh, boy howdy, it’s here. And it’s a two-parter!! Yas!! The second part is gonna take a little while to come out, considering my midterms are arriving and I need to prepare. But fear not! Soon, you’ll have all the John seed lovin’ I know you sinners want, trust me ;) But for now, enjoy this angst, and let me know what you think! Also, this deviates from the plot slightly, so...theres that XP
Part 1 -Part 2 -Part 3
(Edit: AH! I forgot to tag @obscure-fae , sorry hun! Better late than never I suppose 😅)
Pairing: John Seed x OC (Not the Deputy)
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and neglect, John’s in a cage, he’s a little shit. I think that’s it?? Some truly awful banter. Like, one swear? Also, I think maybe I wrote John just a tad out of character. Hope that’s cool.
Word Count: 2,839
Rating: PG-13
Maggie paced across her darkened room, radio emitting a static shrill that she barely paid any mind to.
The news had just come in.
John Seed had been apprehended.
After all the pain he had caused. The death and destruction he had left in his wake. The people of Fall’s End had finally caught him. It was a bittersweet moment for her. While, yes, it was good that his reign of terror in Holland Valley was over, for now at least...he was in Fall’s End. Just a few buildings away.
And it was Maggie’s job to watch him.
Now, that’s not to say she was alone in the task. Three people had been chosen by the Deputy to watch over the Herald. These three would take shifts, rotating every 8 hours or so. That in itself would be terrifying, but for Maggie, it was worse. Her shift ran from 10 pm to 5 am. Meaning, she’d be spending all night with a psychopath cult leader who carved people’s sins into their flesh. Exciting, I know.
She was still trying to unravel the knot that had settled in her stomach when she left her quarters, finally working up the courage to make her way across town to the Spread Eagle, a well-known bar in this part of Hope County. She smiled at Mary May, the owner of the establishment, and someone Maggie would consider almost a parental figure. Maggie opened her mouth to speak, before shutting it quickly, staring nervously at the door leading to the basement. Mary May nodded, blonde hair swishing with her head.
“He’s restrained, caged, and beaten to high hell. He can’t hurt ya past empty threats.”
The redhead sighed, biting her lip and hesitantly stepping towards the threshold. Moonlight slipped past the dusty windows, illuminating the glass Mary May held in her hand as she raised it in salute. Chuckling, Maggie took a deep breath and grabbed the doorknob, marching down the steps before she could change her mind. Waiting for her at the base of the stairs was Alice, a girl of barely 17, who looked about ready to keel over any second. Glancing at Maggie for barely a moment, Alice huffed a sigh of relief, dragging herself out of her chair and trudging to the door.
“Thank. God. I swear, I was about ready to die of absolute boredom. This guy never says anythin’, doesn't even try to escape so I can shoot ‘im!”
With another sigh she starts up the stairs, leaving Maggie to her shift.
“Have fun with doing nothin’.”
Well. This should be fun.
The walls were old, cracks littering the stone no matter where you looked. Most were tiny, barely perceivable unless you squinted. Others were practically the length of the room, suggesting it had been built before even Mary May was born. There were crates of varying sizes stacked against the left wall, probably holding alcohol of some sort, as well as smaller boxes of utensils, glasses, etc. In one corner there were cleaning supplies, next to a door Maggie assumed to be a closet. In another corner, there were cans of food that had been there since god knows when, beside a row of mostly empty wine racks.
But the thing of interest rested against the far wall. A medium sized cage, one meant for that of a wolf or bear, was propped between the refrigerator and a stack of kegs, leaning precariously against the former. It appeared makeshift, as if it had been ripped apart and someone, probably Nick, taped it back together the best they could.
Inside the cage sat a man, hands tied behind his back, face bloodied and bruised, but still recognizable in its features. His shirt was torn, the scarified tattoo of ‘Sloth’ reading clear across his chest, along with several of his other tattoos. His brown hair was tousled haphazardly; the ends just barely managed to hang in front of his eyes. Oh, his eyes. While his face remained mostly clear of any wrinkles and blemishes - save for the contusions and visibly broken nose - his eyes seemed lined in a pain she couldn’t quite place, and, quite honestly, never wished to be acquainted. To her surprise, when Maggie looked into them, he was already staring back, a gleam in the striking blue depths. As if he was in control. As if she was the one locked in a cage.
Like an animal, ready to strike.
She couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine, peering at this man who had caused the misery of so many of her friends. She had never seen him face to face, and while, yes, he was definitely intimidating…
She never allowed herself to finish that thought, lifting her gaze to the chair she would be spending the next several hours sitting in. The thought made her skin itch, but she ignored that, squaring her shoulders and taking a seat, purposely not looking in John Seed’s direction. His gaze never faltered, following her movements with a frightening steadiness.The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention.
This was going to be a long night.
----
It was about half an hour into her shift when Maggie began to fidget. An hour, and she started tapping her boot against the ground. At two hours, she was ready to bust out some jumping jacks, just to have something to do. And still, John hadn’t said a word. She now understood what Alice had meant. The silence was eating her alive.
“I hope you don't mind, I helped myself to your rifle.”
She spat out the words, anything to break the tension; but, even though she intended her tone to be snarky and hardened, her voice was soft and apprehensive, sentence expelled in a single breath. Glancing at the caged man, she was startled to find his gaze already on her, peering through the steel in a way that could only be described as predatory. This time, she didn’t break the connection, staring at him with just as much intensity. Slowly, like a cat, he smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly. While he didn’t verbally reply, Maggie cast her gaze down, playing absentmindedly with the cross dangling daintily from her neck.
“I will get out of here, you know. “
Starting, she almost didn’t realize the words came from him. His voice was rough, gritty from underuse. There still contained a certain charisma to it, though. A lilt that enticed you to listen, to hear more of what he had to say. Maggie got the impression he could talk his way out of pretty much anything if he really wanted to.
She raised her emerald eyes to his, confused by the casual note in his tone. He was very relaxed, she noted, for a prisoner with the hatred of an entire county on his shoulders.
“...no. You won't.”
A snort fell from his lips, as if her statement was preposterous.
“Of course I will. Tell me,”
He rose to his knees, leaning as close to her as his cage would permit.
“When a dragon says, that he is going to eat you... That he is going to swallow you and your entire village whole...what do you do? Do you try to reason with him? Do you brush his threats aside, denying he even has the ability to do so? Or do you run, plead for mercy, worship him in an effort to save your own skin? What do you do?”
Maggie paused, brows furrowing. Was this a trick question? What game was he playing at?
“...um…”
She shrugged slightly, licking her dry lips before answering.
“Offer it a banana instead?”
John faltered, smirk falling for a second. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, and Maggie almost could’ve believed he hadn’t heard her.
Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he cracked, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest, before evolving into a full-on laugh that filled the room. Maggie’s gaze darted away quickly. It took everything she had not to smile with him. And yet, it felt...oddly good...to have made the supposed sociopath laugh, to see under the intense facade he’d put up with the others. She tried not to look into it too much.
----
After a week of the same routine, Alice finally convinced Rook to switch her with someone else, claiming she would ‘literally shoot herself in the foot if she had to sit through one more shift with the silent psycho.’
Sighing lightly, Maggie shuffled down the creaky steps, her catnap doing nothing to relieve the exhaustion in her bones. She should’ve never agreed to the night shift.
Tom, Alice’s replacement, was definitely...different...than his predecessor. A burly, gargantuan of a man, he stood at least a foot, if not more, over Maggie’s meager frame. Not that it was hard to do. At 5’2”, it was rare anybody wasn’t taller than her.
Tom greeted her with a curt nod, back pin straight as always. He marched out of the room without so much as a word, brushing past Maggie, who gave him a mock salute. Once he was out of earshot, she scoffed, muttering to herself, “Does he ever relax?”
A light chuckle met her ears, followed by,
“Whoso pulleth out the stick from his ass, is rightwise king born”
A short giggle fell from her lips, trying, failing, to hide the smile on her cheeks. John always did this. Stayed quiet for the majority of the night, only to make quips and jokes that never failed to make her laugh, no matter how hard she tried not to. At first, it was annoying; but Maggie soon found herself enjoying these moments, looking forward to them, even. Which in itself was something that kept her awake, even as fatigue ached in her bones. The fact that maybe she was even beginning to care for John Seed was a thought she couldn’t quite comprehend.
Taking the seat she had become quite accustomed to, Maggie shifted, trying to get comfortable on the creaky wood of the chair. After a few minutes, she gave up, resigning herself to the dull pain in her back.
John hummed, looking at her carefully. She raised her brows, refusing to back down in this weird staring contest. She refused to acknowledge the fluttering in her stomach, instead focusing on the discomfort of her stool. When it seemed like he wouldn’t speak at all, he finally did, voice low and gravely.
“So...Maggie...what’s your story?”
Her forehead crinkled, the question catching her off guard.
“What?”
A wider, more genuine smile took to his lips, shoulders shrugging in nonchalance that was definitely fabricated.
“If I’m going to be locked in here for the rest of my days, I might as well learn the tale of my beautiful prison guard. So. What’s your story?”
Maggie tried to swallow the lump in her throat, unconsciously tugging on the ends of her hair. He was just goading her. She needed to calm down. But he just called her beautiful.
Clearing her throat, Maggie paused, collecting her thoughts before speaking.
“Well…”
There was no point in lying now, was there? What was he going to do? Laugh at her?
Yeah, probably.
“Well. My name is Maggie Cartwright.”
John rolled his eyes, motioning, as well as he could, for her to go on. Of course. That was obvious. She squirmed in her seat, crossing her arms and examining the concrete beneath her boots.
“I...grew up in Ohio. Small town, nothin’ special there, except for a barbershop and a dusty old train station that hadn’t run in ages. Anything else even resembling civilization was at least an hour drive away, so people tended to just stay in their little corner, rarely interacting. Same went for my family, we...never really left the house. ‘Cept to go to church.”
He nodded, giving no more confirmation that he was listening than that slight inclination of his head. The words began to spill out of her mouth, eyes still fixated on a stain marring the rough stone underfoot.
“I had a brother, but...he left home when I was barely old enough to walk, so...it was always just me and my parents. My dad was a farmer, always out in the fields, or at the market, tryin’ to sell whatever we had to give; sometimes the clothes off our backs. Mama never worked a day in her life, but she took care of the house, made sure there was dinner ready by the time he came home. If it wasn’t...he’d get...angry.”
“Did he hurt you?”
The question jarred her from her daze, a shaky sigh heaving from her chest. Maggie finally looked back to the Herald, blinking a few times as his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
“Not...necessarily. Of course, there was the occasional smack or punch. When Papa would drink a little too much, or had too long of a day. I’d leave something around the house, or forget to do a chore…”
She stared into her lap, fiddling with her necklace.
“But usually they would just...ignore me. Leave me to whatever it was that kept me entertained. Which wasn’t much, considering I was practically the only kid in town, everybody else moved away. So it was just me...alone.”
Maggie blinked back tears, clearing her throat roughly. She wasn’t even sure why she was telling him about this, or why it was affecting her so badly. She thought she’d gotten over all this but…
“It’s alright to cry, you know. To let all those feelings out, all that wrath.”
She snapped her gaze to his, shaking her head slowly.
“I’m not...I’m not angry, John.”
He gave her a tender smile, raising a brow.
“Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice. You hated how your father treated you. How he treated your mother. You hated your brother, for leaving, for letting it happen, for abandoning you. You hate how they neglected you. How they overlooked you. Disregarded you. You hate them.”
Her denial died in her throat, the expression he wore making her heart flutter.
“You hate them, because you hated being alone.”
Releasing a shaky breath, she turned away, biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. She couldn’t stand him. That he was right. Because she was angry, and she had hated them. But that fact that he knew that, that she was so easy to read, terrified her. How could she have been so naive as to have basically laid her heart right in the open for him to see? For him to manipulate?
“Maggie.”
She didn’t turn back, only gave a slight inclination of her head. John sighed, and though she couldn’t see his face, she could almost feel him staring at her, with those big blue eyes that haunted her very dreams.
“Maggie, I know it’s hard to admit to your anger. And I know you might be turning that wrath to me, because it’s the easiest solution, but I understand.”
Slowly, she twisted just slightly toward him, barely even breathing as she listened to what she knew, deep down, was him trying to convert her. To get on her good side so she’d confess.
It didn’t stop her from paying attention, hanging onto every word he spoke.
“I understand that pain. Of feeling abandoned, and alone, even in a place where you should feel the most love. I know how you feel, and I promise, you can be saved. I can help you manage that anger, come to terms with the ache that I know sits in your chest like a stone. I can save you.”
A soft sigh escaped her, head resting against the wall.
“The pain...does it ever go away?”
His breathing was light, the only sound in the otherwise silent room, save for her heartbeat pressing against her ears.
“...no. You just learn to make room for it.”
The worst part? She wanted to believe him. She wanted so badly to feel that absolution he preached about, wanted freedom from the constant twinge in her heart. Finally looking at him, Maggie could clearly see that same twinge in his own eyes, the seeming genuine nature of his claims. She knew better. Logically, Maggie could tell he was lying, anything to get him out of that cage, to recruit another faceless mask into his brother’s cult.
But she couldn’t help but feel that pull. That pull toward the dark and twisted, toward all she had been warned against. She knew he was lying, but her heart begged her to listen, to trust that he would absolve her of all she despised in herself.
And that was her truest fear in all of this. That was the one thing she had been dreading since the Deputy had assigned her this task. He enraptured her in a way that she couldn’t explain...and Maggie was terrified.
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