#...like unpacking your house rather than moving to a new home if that makes sense

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it's incredibly important to remind folks on testosterone or folks who want to reverse patterned baldness about their options, but man, does it sometimes suck wondering how much of our insecurities about our hair stem from backwards beliefs that to strive towards beauty is not only preferable but "makes you good."

As someone with a rather masculinized body pre-medical transition, patterned baldness has always seemed neutral. Hair is incredibly important (hell, much of my own energy is spent on my hair because I like it), but the pressure to have hair, to have hair the "right way" is something that I absolutely loathe.

I'm not here to judge people who don't want patterned hair loss or baldness, I'm here to say that those traits will never make you lesser. Not only is it neutral, but it is also just as worthy and beautiful.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #this especially goes for folks who may be transfem or trans women experiencing patterned hair loss/baldness #i love you and think you are gorgeous<3 #i mentioned trans folks going on t because that's a lot of my own experience #i already had a somewhat masc hairline before t and now it's just settling in... #...i found that i'm fortunate in that way for having an already masculine body and i think that's why my changes are more... #...like unpacking your house rather than moving to a new home if that makes sense #but i find that the beauty culture around hair adds even more unnecessary stress for those who want or value their hair #i am beauty culture's number one hater

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor

saw a prompt from @givethispromptatry

So... here we are... as usual, not edited in the slightest and hoping it's alright!

WC: ~3.45k

After your (not so amicable) split from your dirtbag of a husband, you packed your things and moved back to Philly. It was the city that held a special place in your heart, you knew the area like the back of your hand, and your parents still resided in the place that you grew up. It only made sense now that as a single mother to a six year old girl, you would move to be closer to your parents so they could help bear the load of being a working mom. Elizabeth, but you usually stuck with the nickname Ellie, was a rather easy child. But moving from across the country and leaving the life that she knew and loved behind was rather hard for her- and it was even harder knowing that Mom and Dad had split, and that Dad didn’t necessarily want anything to do with either of you anymore.

So, after about a month of living with your parents, making trips from Utah to Philly and back multiple times to gather all of your things from the house, show the house, sell the house, and deal with the divorce lawyers… the two of you have finally found a little apartment that should be an appropriate size for the two of you while still staying within your budget.

You had been granted full custody, not that your ex would fight you on that, but you also managed to get him to fork over a decent amount of child support- and you would need it. You still haven’t found a job in Philly, and while little jobs here and there were helpful (you mostly did DoorDash on your bike, Ellie’s bike trailer attached so you could bring her along and hold the food), you knew that you absolutely needed to find a job- and quick.

In between attempting to unpack all of your things, get Ellie settled, looking for a new job, and Doordashing, you haven’t been able to take a breath at all. You don’t even know who your neighbors are or what they look like. And you feel a little guilty at that, but none of them have stopped by to introduce themselves to you either. You remember though, that Philly folks aren’t nearly as kind as the people that you had surrounded yourself with in Utah… so them not introducing themselves to you isn’t the most unheard of thing in the world.

Today was brutal. You had signed Ellie up to start school next week, searched and applied for a few teaching jobs (one of which would be at your daughter’s school if you could land it), gone grocery shopping, and then done a nice load of Doordashing with your daughter in tow because your parents couldn’t watch her.

The little girl had missed out on the nap that she usually takes after a day at school, so she’s absolutely miserable the entire time that you bike around. You had tried to placate her by bringing along her iPad so she could watch videos while you navigated the city, but she wanted nothing to do with it. All she did the entire time was whine about the fact that she wanted to go home and cuddle.

After hours of delivering food, you’re satisfied with the amount of money that you made today.

“Okay, little love,” you turn and look at your daughter. “Are you ready for home?”

“I’ve been ready,” she grumbles, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

You give her a soft smile. “I know, sweet girl… but Momma has to make money so we can stay here.”

“Why can’t we just stay in Utah where I like it?”

You bite your lip. “I want to be closer to my parents, baby… and this way you get to see Gram and Pop more than you used to. I think if you give Philly a chance, you’ll learn to love it like I do.”

She huffs a little. 

Deciding that you probably aren’t going to get much more out of her, you turn and start biking in the direction of your apartment. As you’re doing so, you silently thank God that you’re in good shape. At least if anything comes out of this, your legs are going to look incredible.

You chain your bike to the bike stand in the garage of your apartment complex, only to remember that you had forgotten what you needed to make dinner tonight. With regret, you begin to unchain it- much to Ellie’s dismay.

“Momma!” she stomps her foot.

“I know,” you say softly, but you gesture for her to get back into her trailer.

“No!”

You take a shaky breath. You really don’t want to have to put up with a trademarked Ellie tantrum, but it seems that’s what is in store for you tonight. “Love bug, please. We just have to go to the store, and then we can come home, I’ll make dinner, and we can cuddle.”

“I want to cuddle now!”

“Well, we have to fill that belly of yours with food first,” you poke her stomach gently, trying to elicit a giggle out of the little girl. 

It absolutely does the opposite of that. She bats your hand away, and you raise an eyebrow before standing back up straight. “Ellie, you know we do not try to hit.”

“I don’t care,” she tells you defiantly.

A redhead that lives in the building comes into the garage, eyeing you and your child. You hope she isn’t judging you for the fit your child is currently in the middle of having. She climbs into her car and rolls down her windows, but she doesn’t quite pull out yet. She glances at her phone instead.

You blow out a breath, eyes closed and trying to ground yourself, before looking at her again. “Elizabeth, we need to get food for dinner. All you have to do is sit in your trailer while I bike us to the store.”

“Why can’t I stay home?!”

“Because you are six and too little to stay home by yourself.”

“This isn’t home!” you daughter stomps her foot and bursts into tears.

The woman that lives in your complex is still sitting in her car, and you know she can hear your daughter’s and your words. Why hasn’t she pulled out yet?

You soften immediately, crouching back down and opening your arms for her to hug you if she needs to. She does. She immediately curls into your arms and clings to you. “I know, love bug. I know it doesn’t feel like home right now… but no matter what, Momma can’t leave you in the apartment alone. So, I need you to get into your trailer so we can head to the store. The faster we get there, the faster we can come back and curl up on the couch together, okay?”

Your daughter clings to you a little tighter, but you feel her nod into your shoulder.

The woman pulls out of her spot and gives you and your daughter a small wave as she drives past. 

You hold your little girl until she begins to pull away, and then you wipe her tears with the pads of your thumbs. “I love you, Ellie.”

She climbs back into her seat before mumbling back the same sentiment.

You’re able to do your quick run to the grocery store, and Ellie refuses to walk but also refuses to sit in the cart like she usually does. So, you carry her on your hip the entirety of your walk through the aisles. As you’re strolling up and down, you see the redhead that you had seen in the garage earlier, and she gives you a questioning look at the sight of you carrying your daughter when she could be in the cart that you’re pushing along.

You just give her a little shrug and continue on your way. Ellie is getting heavier and heavier by the minute though, so you pick up the pace and are out of the store.

You make your way back to the complex, bags around your arms and in the trailer with your daughter. When you lock your bike to the rack, you look in, and the little girl is fast asleep. Shit.

“Ellie,” you crouch down and whisper. “Sweetheart, we’re back. You have to wake up and carry the bread and juice in for me.”

The little girl stirs slightly before repositioning herself and closing her eyes again.

“Baby girl,” you say softly. “Please wake up for Momma.”

You see headlights, and the car that has the redheaded woman in it pulls in. Great. You get to make a fool out of yourself in front of her yet again.

Not being able to hide your stress, you decide to grab a few of the lighter bags, put them on your arms, and then wiggle Ellie out of the trailer. She’s asleep on your shoulder as soon as she’s in your hold. You silently take a moment to pray that your produce won’t get stolen in the few minutes it will take you to get Ellie upstairs before making your way into the building.

The elevator is broken. Of course it is. So you’re forced to carry three bags of groceries and your six year old daughter up four flights of steps. By the end of it, you’re wheezing. You manage to unlock your door before gently setting her on the couch. With a sigh and a wipe of your now sweaty brow, you lock the door behind you and begin to head down to get the rest of your groceries.

There’s that woman again… and she lives in the apartment across the hall. You give her a friendly nod of the head and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes before you continue your trek back down.

After your second trip up, your body is entirely exhausted. You hardly have it in you to cook dinner, but you dragged Ellie out, so you have to make the meal.

You’re able to wake her with the scent of her favorite meal, but as soon as she’s finished, she’s curling up against you and falling asleep.

After your daughter lays on top of you for quite some time, you know you have to put her in her own room. So, you silently make your way into her bedroom and tuck her in. With a quick kiss to the forehead and a soft “I love you”, you make your way back out to the kitchen.

Ellie is out for the night- she was exhausted halfway through your DoorDash shift- so you grab a glass and fill it with wine. The sweet drink helps to melt away some of the stress as you clean the dishes and settle on the couch for some much needed adult time.

That time is interrupted though when you hear a few rough knocks rattling your apartment. Instinctively, you grab the baseball bat that you keep behind the couch and make your way to the door.

Who the hell could be at your door at this hour? You don’t know anyone here, it wouldn’t be your parents… Could it be your ex-husband? No. He’s out in California with the woman he was cheating on you with. So who the hell is it?

“Who is it?” you yell, gripping the bat so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“You the woman that just moved in?” a gruff voice calls back.

You move a bit closer as you call, “What’s it to you?!”

“Saw you have a kid. Was wondering if you needed help with anything. You look real stressed.”

At that, you move closer to the door and glance out the peephole. It’s the woman that you ran into in the garage and at the grocery store. You open the door just slightly, still unsure of her.

“I ain’t gonna bite,” she teases. “You looked really stressed, so I thought I’d come over, introduce myself, and see if you needed any help.”

You lessen the grip on your bat as you open the door a little further. You take in the woman’s full appearance now that you aren’t trying to calm your daughter and aren’t terrified of being mugged. She’s… she’s really pretty.

You don’t realize that you haven’t say anything back until she’s waving a hand in front of your face. “Hello?”

You shake your head to bring yourself back to the present. “Hi. Sorry… today’s just been… a lot.”

“I could gather that. Can I help?”

You shrug. “I think I’m good at the moment, but I appreciate it.”

“Well,” the redhead purses her lips. “You ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.” 

She turns to walk back to her apartment, but she stops when you call a gentle, “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I uh, never got your name,” you say quietly.

“Schemmenti. Melissa.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smile at her. “I’m Y/N, and the little girl you saw me with is my daughter, Ellie.”

She looks at you thoughtfully before nodding. She heads back to her apartment after that.

You run into her a lot in the following few days after that encounter. She sees you haul Ellie with you pretty much everywhere, and she has quite a few questions that she just can’t seem to work out on her own. So, one day after you’ve brought up Ellie and the groceries, she can’t help but knock on your door.

“Who is it?” you call, not bothering to move from your place on the couch with your daughter.

“Melissa,” the familiar voice calls back.

You sigh before making your way over to the door. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Just checkin’ in on you,” the redhead says. “I saw you hauling up Ellie and your groceries.”

“All good,” you chuckle. “Just about to make dinner for the two of us.”

“You haven’t had dinner yet?” She looks concerned.

“About to get the microwave pasta going now,” you admit sheepishly. “I was gonna have it made earlier, but El decided that she would die without Momma cuddles… and who am I to deny my sweet girl of such a request?”

“When’s her bedtime?”

“In about an hour,” you tell her. “Why?”

“Let me make youse two dinner,” she offers. “I’m a damn good cook, and I can make a pasta dish way better than the packaged sh-stuff.”

“Oh,” you say softly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“No, please,” she argues gently. “I insist.”

“O-oh,” you rub your collarbone nervously. “Are you sure?”

“I haven’t had dinner either,” she lies through her teeth. “So let me make us all a meal while you relax and hold your daughter.”

You finally manage to nod- she does not seem like the type of woman who would lose an argument.

“Just give me a couple minutes to gather some ingredients, and I’ll come back over?”

You smile in lieu of an answer. You close the door gently once she’s back in her apartment before making your way to Ellie.

“Sweet girl, our neighbor, Miss Melissa is coming over for dinner tonight. Can you be the polite little girl I raised?”

She nods, but she reaches for you. You pull her into your lap and hold her close until the redhead knocks on your door again. You pull yourself and your daughter off the couch to go open the door.

In her arms are a few different cans, some produce, and pasta that has clearly been homemade.

“Baby,” you tease the ends of you daughter’s locks gently. “This is Miss Melissa. Can you say hi to her for me?”

“H-hi,” Ellie manages to squeak out. “You’re really pretty.”

Melissa smiles at her, and when she speaks her voice has turned to butter. It’s much softer than when she’s speaking to you. “Thank you, hun. I’m Melissa. It’s so nice to meet you, Ellie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’ve been talking to your momma,” the woman chuckles gently.

The little girl’s lips form into an ‘O’ shape, and you can’t help the gentle kiss that you plant on her temple.

“Miss Melissa is going to make us dinner,” you tell your daughter softly. “Does that sound alright?”

She nods against your neck.

“I’m gonna make spaghetti,” the redhead tells Ellie. “That sound okay?”

“You might become her new favorite person,” you joke. “Little girl eats so many noodles, she’s gonna turn into one someday.”

You girl giggles against you. “Nah uh,” she scrunches her nose and makes a funny face at you. “That’s not possible, Momma.”

“I know, my love. I’m just teasing,” you chuckle before returning your attention to the woman in your doorway. “Well, come in, come in. Make yourself at home.”

She carries her things to the kitchen before starting her prep. The way that she gets everything done so efficiently is mind blowing to you, and you can’t help but watch in awe as you continue to hold Ellie.

“Sit down, hun,” Melissa instructs softly as she stirs her sauce. “Take a load off. I got this.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help? Maybe a glass of wine for your troubles?”

“I won’t say no to a glass, but you absolutely are not helping. I got it.”

You pour her a glass and offer it to her before quietly sitting down and continuing to watch as she makes her way through your kitchen effortlessly.

Dinner is placed in front of you before you know it, and Ellie is nearly wiggling with glee at the plate in front of her. She dives in, and her eyes light up.

“This is so yummy!” your little girl cheers as she takes another forkful to her mouth.

“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart,” Melissa smiles. She gestures for you to take a bite as well, and when you do, you can’t help the small sigh that comes out of your mouth.

“Wow,” you say softly. “This is… incredible.”

“Thanks,” she chuckles as she take a bite of her own creation. “It’s a family recipe.”

Dinner is pleasant. The woman does her best to ask Ellie all about herself, to which your little girl answers delightfully. She’s even able to ask Melissa a few questions of her own. But once her plate is cleared, Ellie climbs into your lap and lets out a yawn as she fiddles with the chain around your neck.

“Is my little girl tired?” you coo softly.

She nods against you.

“Why don’t you start getting ready for bed, sweetness? Momma will be in in a few minutes to say goodnight,” you tell her. She nods again. “Well, off you go. But first, what do you say to Miss Melissa?”

“Thank you,” your daughter smiles brightly before climbing off your lap. Surprisingly, she makes her way over to the redhead’s side of the table and hugs her. Melissa wraps her arms around the little girl gently.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Get some good sleep tonight, yeah?”

Ellie nods before wandering down the hall to get to her bedroom, leaving you with Melissa.

“Thank you for dinner tonight,” you say softly.

“Any time.”

“No, seriously. I usually cook, but I was not feeling it tonight. So, thank you.”

“I’m sure. I saw you biking all around today, starting with this morning when I was heading to work and ending with you coming back from the store.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m a busy woman.”

“Where are you always biking anyway?”

“I’m in between jobs at the moment, so I’ve just been DoorDashing with El until she starts school next week,” you sigh. “Hopefully I get a job soon… I need all the money I can get to keep this place and give El everything she needs or wants.”

“You’re doing great,” Melissa tells you honestly. “She adores you.”

“She likes you too,” you say quietly. “You’re really good with her.”

“Well, I have some experience with children,” she chuckles quietly. “I guess I should head out so you can get the little one to bed and get some sleep yourself, but I’ll see you around?”

“Next time, dinner’s on me,” you tell her.

“We’ll see about that one,” she laughs as she heads for the door. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to holler.”

“Thank you, Melissa. Goodnight.”

You see her out, and as you close the door behind her, you sigh. You lean against it for a second, a little confused with the way you’re feeling after this diiner. 

Maybe this new neighbor will become a close friend of yours… maybe something else. Only time will tell. But for now, you have to get back to your daughter. 

Next

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

[swiftshiftvan]

Homebound Adventures: Making the Most of Your Residential Moving Journey

Introduction

A residential move is not just a change of location; it's an adventure that presents opportunities for discovery, growth, and creating new memories. In this article, we'll explore the concept of homebound adventures – making the most of your residential moving journey. With the right mindset and strategic approaches, your move can become a transformative experience filled with positive moments and exciting discoveries.

Adopting a Homebound Mindset: The Journey as an Adventure

Shift your perspective on the moving process by adopting a homebound mindset. Rather than viewing it as a series of tasks, see it as an adventure. Embrace the unknowns and uncertainties with curiosity, recognizing that every step is a part of your unique journey. This mindset not only eases the stress associated with moving but also opens the door to unexpected and delightful experiences.

Approach the adventure with a sense of optimism, knowing that each phase of the move brings new possibilities and a chance to create a home that reflects your aspirations.

Exploring Your New Neighborhood: Uncover Hidden Gems

One of the most exciting aspects of a residential move is the opportunity to explore a new neighborhood. Treat this as a homebound adventure by actively seeking out hidden gems and local treasures. Visit local cafes, parks, and markets to get a feel for the community's unique character.

Engage with neighbors, ask for recommendations, and attend community events. By immersing yourself in the local culture, you not only make the transition smoother but also turn your move into an enriching exploration.

Documenting the Journey: Create a Moving Journal

Transform your move into a homebound adventure by documenting the journey. Create a moving journal to capture your thoughts, feelings, and experiences throughout the process. Include photos, anecdotes, and even the challenges you overcome. This not only serves as a creative outlet but also becomes a cherished keepsake of your homebound adventure.

Share your moving journal with family members, turning the documentation into a collaborative effort. Encourage each family member to contribute their perspectives, creating a collective narrative of your unique journey.

Creative Unpacking: Turning Chaos into Artistry

Rather than viewing unpacking as a tedious chore, approach it as a creative endeavor. Turn the chaos of unpacking into an opportunity for artistic expression. Arrange furniture and decor with intention, experimenting with different layouts until you find the one that resonates with your vision for the space.

Consider involving the whole family in the creative process. Turn on some music, share ideas, and transform unpacking into a collaborative and enjoyable homebound adventure. The process of turning a house into a home becomes a shared experience that strengthens family bonds.

Connecting with the Community: Building Social Bridges

A homebound adventure extends beyond the walls of your new residence. Actively connect with the community to build social bridges. Attend local gatherings, join clubs, and participate in community events. Establishing connections not only enriches your social life but also makes your new environment feel more like home.

Consider hosting a welcome gathering for neighbors. This not only provides an opportunity to meet people but also contributes to a positive community atmosphere. Building a social network enhances the adventure of settling into a new home.

Learning and Growing: Personal Development in a New Setting

Every homebound adventure is an opportunity for personal development. Use the move as a catalyst for learning and growing in a new setting. Explore local educational opportunities, whether it's joining a class, attending workshops, or pursuing a hobby. This not only enriches your personal life but also enhances your connection to the community.

Encourage family members to pursue their interests in the new location. Whether it's sports, arts, or academics, the homebound adventure becomes a vehicle for personal and collective growth.

Conclusion

Transforming your residential move into a homebound adventure is about embracing the journey with a positive mindset and creative energy. View each phase – from exploring the new neighborhood to unpacking and connecting with the community – as an opportunity for discovery and growth. By adopting a homebound mindset, documenting the journey, creatively unpacking, connecting with the community, and fostering personal development, you can turn your residential move into a transformative and memorable adventure.

[myfanfictionjournal]

Soul Gazing with Mister Bridgerton

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x OFC Amanda Jennings/Reader

Summery: Your two dearest friends Pen and El have as usual asked you to join them in the Bridgerton home when the youngest of the three eldest Bridgerton men; Colin returns from his Grecian adventures. It seems as though his return has brought about a new buzz about the home that everyone can blatantly see.

Song: Fix You Coldplay cover by Low Strung

Memo: So it’s weird how I’ve written this story, but the concept is giving you the reader the opportunity to create yourself as Amanda Jennings. It wasn’t sitting right with me to have to not give my main protagonist a name given the universe I’ve decided to experiment with. I don’t know how well this will read for everyone. I couldn’t exactly find a happy stopping point; therefore if there is enough interest. I’ll look into writing another. Either outcome; I’m just glad I gave myself the opportunity to take on a different genre of writing as a whole. I’m proud of what I have here and do hope you enjoy it as well.

Meeting his gaze. This gaze. Much like he so clearly was; you too wore an expression of awe at his presence. It been so long since he took leave for his travels and despite the passage of time; his gaze reminded you of that first night you met. His eyes captured your soul right then and there. Just as he has done in this moment.

His mother; Lady Bridgerton couldn’t help but smile with a delighted giggle as she moved to embrace her child. Your smile seemed to have brought him back to his senses despite having just given his mother a hug.

“Miss. Jennings. I was unaware you’d be joining my family so early. It is a refreshing delight to have seen you the same hour I returned. Please excuse my lack of gentlemanly gestures; for I have much to unpack as well as many stories to share with my siblings.” You were taken back by his polite request and completely delighted at his remark of seeing your presence as something to be desired to an extent.

Lady Bridgerton beamed from the corner of your eye as she sound comfort in one of the chairs and giving her son a curious look. One that was none other than that of great pride and joy for his return. You couldn’t allow your smile to fade nor did the way your heart wish it as Colin Bridgerton returned your smile. His eyes sparkling with a happiness you rarely saw in another man’s eyes. It is an expression he naturally exudes. Colin bowed his head in respects before flashing you a dazzling smile that even took his sister and Penelope Featherington by surprise.

As you wiped your neck around to see their giddy chatter suddenly hault and become fits of giggles.

“Whatever is so amusing girls?” The Lady of the house asked with curious giggles of her own.

“Oh! Nothing mama!” Eloise insisted as she came to your side and Penelope on your left.

“We wish to take a stroll. Would that be alright with you brother?” El asked her eldest brother in a mocking tone.

“Oh course it is. We will end up at the modiste if anywhere in particular.” Before you had any say in the matter Pen and El took each elbow and started towards the door.

Or rather straight for Colin who stepped aside with chuckles until his gaze fell upon your own once again. This gaze. Once more leaves you feeling suspended in air as if holding you up and keeping you above the cliff side; is him.

“I will see you again soon Miss Jennings!” Colin called out as he leaned out of the doorway after the three of you lady’s.

As you tried to turn and look back Penelope’s eyes met your longing gaze first. To which she beamed then let out a hearty laugh that Eloise joined in. You looked to her in disbelief then at the lady on you right and stopped walking. The two stumbled a moment as the lost grip of your arms.

“What ever are we doing?! Is there not a Ball we have to prepare for? At the Danbury home nonetheless! Do you two not wish to make good impressions this season?!” You stood your group as you longed for genuine answers in their eyes.

Empty expressions looking back at you that clearly have not a single aligned interest. You looked down then craned your head over your shoulder wishing so desperately for the Lord Bridgerton to be standing there. Staring back at you so openly and honestly. You took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh as you composed yourself.

“I know it not to be something you wish to possibly think of. Or possibly imagine as tolerable. However. I for one. I do wish to marry. I wish for a husband and a marriage. Children. Yes. I want the responsibility of running a household, give visible value to the name I will be married into. For those things I love. I might be like you two with open hearts and intellectual conversation. But give me one reason. Why we can’t at least indulge while the season is at its peak!?” The lady’s looked to one another then their feet as they could not seem to find the words at your outburst.

An outburst that was bound to happen, the unexpected news of an eligible Bridgerton back home, the Sharma’s and their affairs from the scandals under the Featherington roof that does not seem to bother your beloved friend.

“I am sorry for my outburst, but…Eloise.” You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide your desire for Colin and so you moved in close and took Eliose’s hands as you stared deep into her eyes to hopefully reach her soul as you chose your next few words carefully; “I am a woman ready to marry. If despite my lack of social effort…I have found a man I am in raptures about. One whom sees me. The way we all wish to be seen by man. I know what I see in his eyes and my own. So I implore you to hear me pronounce to you in my full confidence that…after tonight while my happiness flourishes. I do hope you’ll see it for that. The blossoming of something beautiful bound to happen.” As you spoke Penelope held her chest in awe of your declaration.

“Amanda…that was so beautiful.” She giggled and as you looked to her; she was looking to the floor as if to be avoiding someone else’s eyes.

You looked back to Eloise worried she would be angry. That being the last thing you want; however; she was giving you a devil may care kind of grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone speak so highly of their devotion to their future family. Miss Jennings.” Colin’s voice felt like a warm breeze after a summer rain from behind you.

Eloise dropped your hands as she looked away as if she hadn’t heard her brother.

“Pen and I are going out. We will see you at the ball tonight Amanda.” She smiled and her eyes held that promise as bright as the smile she flashed before dashing off.

You giggled as Penelope gave you a cheeky grin then followed after her best friend. You took a deep breathe before turning to face Colin. As you did you were able to take in his full appearance. The japes his brothers made on behalf of his facial hair was but a fleeting thought and yet you wanted to laugh at how cruel they were. The joy unable to stay inside as you giggle as you both take a moment to take in each other’s presence. Alone.

“I…I do hope we can promenade tomorrow morning after we share a dance tonight.” The way he stumbled to ask for your company was the first blow of many that sent you into a state of wanting that; until now you’d never truthfully desired until this moment.

“Miss. Jennings. I know that my leaving was abrupt and sudden, leaving many with the notion that I was just a child wanting to escape my realities, I however. Want to assure you that I’ve come home a changed man. I seek a wife and many, many children in my future. And please forgive me again. For it is impolite of me to share such feelings unprovoked.”

“Unprovoked? You seemed to have heard of my expectations for my future and now you want to apologize not only for being charming, but dare I say. . .” You found yourself avoiding his eyes as you spoke.

Knowing full well that this was completely inappropriate and yet as you laid eyes on one another; there it was again. That feeling of complete comfort and trust that these words were meant for you and you alone. It was his eyes. The way he was looking at you. All you could see was a future with children and dogs running about. Just as you blinked Colin took a step closer and softly grasped the back of your wrist.

“I shall take this hand and escort you onto the dance floor. First and last tonight. Might I be given that privilege. I wish to. . .” Once more someone at a lose for words.

You felt the tension building. The kind you willed yourself to not think about, but could feel in your joints. It was the way his hand tenderly caressed your own at this point, his thumb ever so softly sweeping across the top of your hand. You gave him a smile and despite how wrong it felt. There were urges. Begging and pleading in your mind of how this could be the best and worst thing to happen to you.

“I see. You’re at a lose for words. That is alright. A look. That is the only answer I desire. For I have done all but appreciate all that is laid out before me. As we all do as we learn to who we become. I for one; Lady Jennings, want nothing more than to be a worthy husband to a wife who will no doubt be the absolute greatest thing to me. So. All I need before I depart...” He spoke with an intense sincerity as he continued to stroke your hand.

He squeezed his fingers around your wrist and released in a quick action as your eyes darted from the floor to his sapphire eyes; “is a look.” He said as plainly as one could.

Your nerves ache and mind became fuzzy as looking into his eyes once more gave you no other place to land. They were so clear, curious, joyful, knowledgeable, and there in the center you inhaled a shaky breath that he mimicked to further give attention to the blatantly obvious.

“Lady Jennings! Mama told me you’d be here! COLIN?!” Her Grace the Dutchess Hastings had come up the stairs with much enthusiasm for both the people she had encountered.

She dashed forward and halted at the sight of your hand so tenderly being caressed by her brother whom did not drop your hand but brought it to his lips and placed a kiss to your knuckles.

As you glanced to address the Dutchess; Colin brought your hand up into the air. His gaze never leaving you as he pressed the flesh of his lips to your knuckles. Soft, full, and that gaze never breaking. His gaze that begged you to seek what he sees.

Daphne stood with pursed lips and blushing cheeks. Her hands folded neatly behind her as she witnessed the gentle gesture of her brother. A smile on her face as Colin brought your hand back down and released it. You beamed and couldn’t suppress your giggles. Colin followed with chuckles that lead to Daphne joining in to which Colin shuddered in shock at the sound of his eldest sister.

“Sister!” He beamed in her direction as he bowed then proceeded to walk up and engulf her in a tight embrace.

She laughed in delight at his genuine happiness to see her and as they pulled away he cleared his throat. The three of you stood there in a growing awkward silence; despite how pleasant it was. It was indeed awkward.

#fanfiction #bridgerton #Colin bridgerton #Colin x reader #ofc Amanda Jennings #reader insert #fluff #romance #soul gazing with mister bridgerton #Colin fluff #Colin Bridgerton fluff #Bridgerton fluff #fluff fanfiction

[queenshelby]

A New Life

Part Four: A Day at the Zoo

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,790

Warning: Fluff, Self-Esteem Issues, Body Image Issues

The following morning, Cillian picked you and Max up from your house at 8 o’clock after having borrowed a car seat from Cian.

‘Thank you for taking us to the Zoo, Cillian’ Max said excitedly as Cillian helped him into his seat.

‘That’s alright buddy’ Cillian said and you couldn’t help but be a little bit excited. Whilst you never liked going to the Zoo, you liked the fact that you and Max got to spend the day with Cillian.

He had a fantastic sense of humour and Max really seemed to like him which put you at ease quite significantly.

After Max and you sat down in the car, Cillian opened two of the windows slightly and told you that he had put some sickie bags and wet wipes into the glove box for Max just in case you needed them. Another thing he remembered was that Max often got car sick and he certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by it. In fact, he was quite well prepared.

To your surprise, Max did well in the car and was fascinated with some of the gadgets, including the TV screens in the back.

‘Made it without Max getting sick. That’s new. Thank you for taking it easy around the corners’ you said, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘You are welcome’ Cillian said before helping Max out of the car and picking up his plush bunny toy which had fallen to the floor.

‘That’s one well loved rabbit’ Cillian observed as he looked at the rather old and half destroyed fluffy toy and you explained to him that Max had this bunny since he’s been a baby. In fact, Cian had bought it for him when you were still pregnant with Max.

***

After twenty minutes, two cinnamon donuts and a take away coffee, you finally arrived at the tiger enclosure.

‘I can’t see, I can’t see’ Max said somewhat disappointed as the tiger was roaming around from the left to the right and he was simply too small to look over the larger children in front of him.

‘Sweetie, you are too heavy for me to pick up’ you said as Max pulled on your t-shirt and began to pout.

‘I can put him up on my shoulders if you want’ Cillian suggested, ensuring that you would be okay with it before saying anything to Max.

Of course, you had no objections and Max was quick to climb onto Cillian’s shoulders so that he could see the tiger, still walking from the left to the right and roaming around his enclosure.

‘Max, careful!’ you said worryingly as he was clinging onto Cillian’s hair but Cillian didn’t seem to mind.

Taking you by the hand for a brief second to pull through the crowds, Cillian moved over to the left slightly to give Max a better view and you followed him while watching Max smile with excitement.

‘Have you counted how many stripes he’s got?’ Cillian then asked your son.

‘Too many for me to count Cillian’ Max laughed before Cillian told him about the tiger, reading from the sign in front of him and asking Max questions in order to keep him engaged.

You were truly surprised how well Cillian and Max were getting on and how patient and engaging Cillian was with him.

‘Elephants next?’ Cillian asked as, eventually, the tiger went into his little cave for a rest and Max nodded.

Without Max getting down from Cillian’s shoulders, you both walked towards the Elephant enclosure.

‘Can you tell me what sounds an elephant makes?’ Cillian asked and, when Max and Cillian both pretended to be elephants, you couldn’t help but laugh.

The entire day was a blast and, for the first time in a long while, you and Max both felt comfortable being around someone new. It felt like you both had known Cillian for a long time and you were quite impressed by his character.

‘What a lovely family’ you then heard all of a sudden as one elderly women in the crowd walked past you and, whilst Cillian wanted to correct her, you simply said ‘thanks’ and laughed.

***

After your day at the zoo, Max fell asleep in the car fairly quickly and whilst you were keen to take up Cillian’s offer to have dinner in town, you didn’t think that Max would be up for it. He had a big day.

‘I am not sure if Max is up for dinner in town. He’s tuckered out completely’ you said, looking back towards him.

‘I figured that he would be tired after all this walking around’ Cillian chuckled ‘But, if you want to, I can cook something at your house instead and we can watch a movie with Max’ Cillian offered.

‘You can cook?’ you asked since no man had ever cooked for you before.

‘You seem surprised’ Cillian observed, causing you to laugh and nod before accepting his offer.

‘I suppose spaghetti would be winner, right?’ Cillian then asked and you nodded again before asking a question which you have been pondering on about for the entire day.

‘You are so good with Max. How come you never had children?’ you asked before telling Cillian that he didn’t have to answer this question if he didn’t want to.

‘My ex-wife never wanted children and I had to accept that I suppose’ Cillian explained.

‘How long were you married for?’ you then asked.

‘Ten years. But we were together for fifteen. I had one relationship after that, but it was a disaster’ Cillian chuckled and you talked about his marriage and why it ended before Cillian carefully and quietly asked about Max’s father.

You told Cillian that he had died in a car accident when Max was only two years old and that Max didn’t remember much about him.

‘We had our differences but were determined to make it work for Max. We were high school sweethearts and met when we were 16’ you explained, thinking back to all the irrational choices you made in the past.

***

An hour later, you arrived at your apartment following a small detour to the local supermarket.

‘Cillian is making us spaghetti’ you said to Max while you helped unpack the grocery bags.

‘It’s my favourite. Can I have lots of cheese please?’ Max then asked and, of course, you nodded before telling him to play in his room while you were going to help with the food.

Cillian pre-prepared the food for later with your help before you all sat down together and watched a cartoon movie which almost sent Cillian to sleep. His eyes kept shutting closed as he leaned against the large cushion on the L-shaped lounge and you had to give him a nudge now and then to make him stay awake.

Luckily, Max lost interest in the movie after thirty minutes and asked Cillian whether he wanted to see his dinosaur collection.

Sure enough, Cillian was very interested in dinosaurs and, after they managed to give each of the toys a name, you played two games of UNO before serving dinner.

‘This is much better than mum’s spaghetti’ Max observed, causing you to pout and Cillian to apologise.

‘It is pretty good’ you observed before thanking Cillian for cooking and taking you both to the zoo.

‘We had a fantastic day, didn’t we Max?’ you said and Max nodded and yawned at the same time.

***

‘I probably should drive home soon’ Cillian said after you cleaned up the dishes and Max had changed himself into his pyjamas.

‘Do you want to stay for a wine and watch a more interesting movie after I put Max to bed?’ you then quickly asked, hoping that you wouldn’t sound too desperate.

‘I suppose I could leave the car here and pick it up tomorrow’ Cillian then said, not intending to drink and drive and you nodded in agreement.

Cillian’s house was only 20 minutes by foot from your apartment and he could easily call a taxi or sleep on your lounge if he didn’t want to walk.

‘Can Cillian read me a bedtime story then?’ Max asked, clearly having overheard your conversation.

‘If that’s alright with your mum, I sure can’ Cillian offered which prompted Max to quickly find a book and his favourite bunny toy.

Listening to Cillian read a bedtime story to Max made your heart melt once again. Not only did you think that Cillian was an incredibly kind person who was good with children, but also was he rather attractive.

Quite to your surprise, you adored the small wrinkles around his eyes and the few grey hairs on his head as his hair was growing out on the sides.

Then, of course, there were those deep blue eyes and razor-sharp cheek bones and you wondered what your mind was doing to you, feeling some sort of attraction towards a man who was clearly much older than you.

***

‘Thank you for reading to him’ you said when Cillian came back into the living and you tugged Max into bed and gave him a goodnight kiss.

‘That’s perfectly fine Y/N’ Cillian assured you before sitting down while you poured two glasses of red wine.

‘So what are we watching?’ he asked and you suggested to put something on which has him in it after Cian told you that one of Cillian’s shows was on Netflix.

You had only just signed up to Netflix when you came to Ireland as, frankly, working on TV made you less interested in watching it during your spare time but, now that you were taking some time off after having resigned as a host from one of Australia’s design shows after your ex’s constant publicly stunts, this has changed.

You hadn’t seen any of Cillian’s work yet and you certainly didn’t know much about him. Unlike he did with you, you haven’t resorted to Google yet to find out more, wanting to paint your own picture about him and not being influenced by media.

‘Absolutely not. I hate watching myself’ Cillian chuckled before suggesting a different movie on Netflix. His comment made you laugh.

‘I get that. I hate watching myself too’ you chuckled and, after he turned on the movie, it didn’t take you long to get comfortable together on your small sofa and you quite enjoyed sitting so closely next to him.

As you were sitting next to him, you couldn’t help but notice the scent of his aftershave which was musky but yet fresh and sporty. Glancing over towards him without him noticing, you quickly got mesmerised with his freckled skin and you couldn’t help your eyes from wandering further down, observing his neck and the small area of exposed skin above the neckline of his t-shirt.

Clearly, he had a little bit of chest hair. Or was it a lot? You were curious as you thought that, the way it extended above the neckline of his t-shirt looked quite sexy.

Your fixation on Cillian’s skin and scent, however, soon came to an end when you received a text message from one of your closest friends in Australia.

In her text message, she linked an article from an Australian tabloid and, whilst you knew that you should probably ignore it, you couldn’t help but click on the link.

When you opened the link you couldn’t believe your eyes. Clearly, your ex-partner had shared your last holiday pictures to a water theme park in Australia’s Northern Territory and they were far from flattering.

Cillian immediately noticed that something was wrong and paused the movie before asking you whether you were alright as tears had built up in your eyes.

‘My ex is making my life miserable’ you huffed out before telling Cillian about the unflattering pictures and comments from the tabloids.

According to the online magazine you should have chosen your outfit better to hide your scars and the publisher criticised that you were hosting a design show while, according to him, you obviously didn’t care much about your own appearances.

‘Can I see?’ Cillian asked and, whilst you were almost ashamed to show him, you did, knowing that it was on the world wide web anyway.

You saw Cillian’s eyebrows rise as he read through the article before, suddenly, he started laughing.

‘What an eejit’ he chuckled and you looked at him somewhat confused.

‘Irish for idiot’ Cillian clarified before carrying on. ‘Look, these people obviously have nothing better to do than to criticise humans for being human. You wore a bikini on a water slide. Seems logical to me. I mean what else would you wear when you visit a water park in a country where it’s so fucking hot?’ Cillian said, handing you back your phone.

‘That’s not the point Cillian. My ex knows how self-conscious I am. He continuously used to put me down and, ever since my emergency c-section when I had Max, I have been trying very hard to hide my body. Obviously, I was right to do so. I mean look at this shit now’ you said rather upset.

‘Y/N, you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You are a very attractive woman and any man out there would be lucky to have you. Despite, from what I just saw, there is nothing wrong with your body. You are stunning. You’ve got a few scars, so what?’ Cillian said reassuringly while taking your hands into his.

‘And a little baby weight I never managed to get rid of’ you chuckled and, whilst you knew it wasn’t really a big deal, you felt as though, being in the public eye required you to look perfect at all times.

‘You are perfect Y/N. You really cannot let this stuff get to you and you should tell your friend not to bother sending these things to you either’ Cillian said, knowing very well what reading bad press feels like.

‘So, you actually don’t care when you read something bad about yourself?’ you asked, not realising how much press Cillian had to deal with in comparison to you.

‘I gave up caring about twenty years ago’ Cillian chuckled. ‘You should too. It feels better that way’ he then said and you couldn’t agree more. You knew you had to care less but, the truth was, you had realised that this life wasn’t for you.

‘That’s why I gave up TV and advertising. I just want to concentrate on writing and the other things I’ve been working on’ you explained before changing the topic to something more pleasant which was your upcoming theatre date and trip to Kerry.

When you mentioned your upcoming trip to Kerry, Cillian told you that Cian invited him and Laura as well and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘So, Laura…do you like her?’ you asked.

‘She is nice I guess. But, I honestly am not interested in a relationship or dating right now’ Cillian told you before advising you that he would have to head home soon. He had an early start.

***

By the time Cillian had left it was already 9 o ‘clock and you decided to have a bath and then head into bed as well.

For a minute or two, you pondered on about the article that had been published in Australia but, then, you remembered Cillian’s words. You had to ignore them.

Instead of dwelling on about them, you felt as though you wanted to know a little more about Cillian. Until this point, you had refused to google him but you realised that you didn’t even know his surname nor did you know how old he was and you certainly didn’t want to sound weird, asking him or Cian those things.

You tried your luck putting the words ‘Cillian’, ‘Actor’ and ‘Irish’ into the search tab as, surely, there couldn’t be too many actors with his name out there.

To your surprise, his name and pictures of him popped up immediately. You didn’t have to do much investigation and you were quite shocked to see his extensive filmography.

Even more so, you were surprised by the fact that he had just recently turned 45.

‘How the fuck can this man be 45 already?’ you asked yourself silently and couldn’t help yourself flicking through the many pictures.

Going through them one by one, you realised again how handsome he was and whilst you were certainly attracted to him, the fact that he was rather famous turned you off and made it much easier for you to turn off your attraction towards him. At least so you thought.

 Tag List:

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#cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

[writersrealmbts]

Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 7/Final

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 03/04/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Fluff: 4,296 words

A/N: Woohoo! We finished the series!

They had almost completely redecorated the apartment, making it ultra-fairy friendly. It was like a paradise and you loved them even more for it.

Your dollhouse was perfect, and had more spots for you to hide in because you did need privacy (the bathroom was also completely closed in this one, thank goodness). It had it’s own power source and running water, and magic plumbing because they got it from fairy craftsmen. The stove worked, the fridge worked, and the bed was soft and plump.

They had more plush rugs around the house just in case you crashed (it happened), and way more house plants. Even a sauna-like terrarium for winter days.

Your room was decorated with new pictures, posters, and paintings.

And they’d rearranged their rooms, too. Jimin’s and Hoseok’s beds arranged to be more easily pushed together at a moment’s notice—something they were doing before even unpacking.

Yoongi brought in blankets and pillows as you tried to figure out what they were doing.

Jungkook and Taehyung brought in the TV and dvd player, and Seokjin brought in the table for it to rest on.

Then they all disappeared, Hoseok patting you on the head as he passed.

You looked around, frowning as you tried to figure out when they had agreed on a movie night, especially since you’d been with them the whole time….

Taehyung came back first, cleaned up and picking you up. Carrying you up the side of the bed and then setting you down as far as he could reach, but without reaching the crack. He was humming happily as he climbed onto the bed beside you, and wrapped you in his arms, making sure both of you were propped up for watching whatever movie it was that they had chosen. You hoped it wasn’t anything too intricate, after flying through timezones and since you were still adjusting.

Taehyung was running his fingers through your hair, playing with it. “It was really bad that first month,” He whispered.

You studied his face, seeing the invisible scars in the look in his eyes and the way they stared at nothing.

“The first day we were a mess, and just sort of…numb. But that night…Hobi-hyung was so angry and he picked a fight with Jin-hyung. I think Jin-hyung only went along with the fight because he didn’t want Hobi-hyungie doing it to us. I’ve never seen either of them like that. And then Namjoonie-hyung got involved, but he was also arguing instead of trying to settle it. Yoongi-hyung grabbed Jimin and Jungkook and dragged them out, but I wouldn’t let him pull me away. I was too worried about them.”

You hugged him tighter, still fixated on his micro-expressions.

“You know how Jin-hyung is, he’ll fight but then he’ll be the first to apologize…even if he doesn’t really understand why there was a fight in the first place. I mean, we all knew that it was because we lost you, but also…Hobi just…he wasn’t making any sense. He was angry, so angry. He ended up hitting Jin-hyung.”

You felt your eyes widen.

Tae finally looked at you, nodding slightly at your expression and then looking away at nothing again. “It got so quiet. Hobi-hyung had hit him in the face and Jin-hyung was on the floor. We all just stood there for…minutes. Jin-hyung didn’t try to get up, just holding his face where he had been hit, laying on the ground…” Tae shuddered. “Yoongi hyung was the first to move, going over and standing between Hobi and Jin. He didn’t say anything, just glared at Hoseok-hyung. Wouldn’t let him or Namjoon get close when they both started panicking and trying to see if Jin-hyung was okay. I went to him, and he finally got up. He pulled me to the fridge to grab an ice pack, then back to his room and we just…sat together. Listening to all of the crying in the house. I got angry at Hobi-hyung for hitting him, but Jin-hyung just shrugged. Said that Hobi didn’t mean it. That it was just because…because you were gone and none of us knew how to handle it.”

“I take it they made up,” You whispered.

He nodded. “Hoseokie-hyung hasn’t fully forgiven himself. He started going to his therapist regularly after talking with Jin-hyung that night. And we had our group discussion…but it was strange. Jin-hyung said he’d rather we blamed him than ourselves, because he could handle our wrath against him…but he couldn’t handle us hurting ourselves with that guilt. Yoongi hyung was so angry at that…told Jin to blame him if that’s what Jin wanted the rest of us to do. But Jin-hyung was so calm. All he said was that he didn’t blame himself, or any of our members.”

“Who did he blame?”

“I don’t know. He never would say, and we never could figure out who he was acting more coldly toward.”

You frowned slightly. “Maybe because it was someone he already acted coldly toward?”

“Maybe, but I still don’t know who that would be.”

You nodded slowly, a few ideas popping into your own head, but figuring it was better not to voice them. “What else happened?”

“Jiminie ran away,” Taehyung said, still sounding horrified from the event. Didn’t go home or anything. It’s dangerous for us, you know? And he’d been handling it so poorly that we panicked. We told the fans that he had gotten a cold and that the medicine made him hallucinate and he’d run away and they helped us find him. They were really nice about it too, they didn’t approach him or anything, even blocked a sassaeng fan. Jimin did end up sick, so it wasn’t a lie after that. Jimin wasn’t allowed to be alone after that. Namjoon stepped down from being the leader for a week—which was how long it took the rest of us to make him realize that none of us were equipped for that position. Jungkook got caught getting another tattoo and he pretty much was completely withdrawn. We were a mess.”

“No kidding,” You murmured. “And you?”

He chewed his lip. “I don’t know. I just felt so…helpless. But I guess I was the only one that Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung could keep a firm hold on. If I wasn’t with one, I was with the other. Even at night. Sometimes I spent the night with Jimin, if Jin-hyung was with one of the others while Yoongi-hyung was in the studio. Hobi hyung would sometimes let me cling to him at work if they weren’t around. I don’t know. It was all like a bad dream and if I could only grab hold of everyone the bad stuff would go away, but only a few people were letting my hold onto them.”

“My poor boys,” You whispered, grouping them together because you knew he didn’t want you saying poor him. “So hurt, so sad.”

“You were in the worst situation, though,” He whispered. “He hit you, y/n.”

You shrugged a little. “Only in the last two weeks.”

He grumbled unintelligibly, then seemed to remember something else. “Oh. Jungkookie also hit Jin-hyung. We didn’t hear about it until after, because we came home to find both of them holding ice-packs to injuries and Jungkook crying.”

You pushed yourself up to look at him in disbelief. “So…Jin hit him back?”

“Oh, they fought. Not for very long, but apparently they fought.”

You shook your head a bit. “Any other physical altercations?”

“Yoongi wrestling Jimin, but no one got hurt. I think Yoongi and Jin got into a couple fights behind closed doors.” Taehyung shivered and snuggled down into bed more. “It was a bad time.”

“No kidding,” You muttered, getting up and ignoring his whining. “I think I should talk to all of you in private. Between you and Jimin I’m very concerned and I just…I think I need to hear what happened from each of you.”

Taehyung bit his lip, but he nodded.

You ventured out, looking for who you could corner first.

Instead you were cornered by Jungkook.

You easily let him pick you up and carry you into his room, giggling softly at his jokes as he carried you in to keep him company while he finished getting ready for the night.

But you were pretty sure he knew why you were there.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” He said quietly. “Me hitting hyung. I was angry about something stupid and hyung was just trying to be there for me and we both misinterpreted what was happening and I hit him…and then…I was already so angry and it felt good to hit something and before I knew it I was swinging at him again. Then he was hitting back, but never trying to beat me, just trying to get me to snap out of it. I did, and he held onto me, and he went with me to the therapist the next day. It’s the only time it ever happened. We worked on redirecting my anger when it came up. I wasn’t nearly as bad as Jimin or Hobi-hyung. And Yoongi-hyung laid into me for fighting with Jinnie-hyung, but he backed off when Hyung talked to him. I think…even though Hobi-hyung and Jiminie-hyung reacted the worst…I think Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung had it the worst. They tried so hard to hold us all together. I’ve never seen Yoongi-hyung so actively desperate to bring us together as he was in those first few weeks. And…I don’t know. It definitely made me feel ashamed.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything else happen?”

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Jungkookie, I’m just trying to get a sense of what you all went through,” You told him softly.

He took a deep breath. “Namjoon-hyung. He spent too long in the studio and had to go to the hospital to get an I.V. because he was so dehydrated. And I think you already guessed that Jimin-hyung went off of food. We pretty much force-fed him meals, usually protein shakes were the most we could get him to consume willingly. He was just so…out of his mind with grief. He’d spent the first few nights you were gone researching what happened when a fairy was taken from the most loving home they had been in—not that he told us he did that until a couple months later when he was finally not acting crazy.”

You nodded again. “But you all took care of him. That’s the most important thing. You all took care of him.”

Jungkook’s eyes went to the sheet on his bed. “I should have helped more.”

“It’s over. You all made it. Maybe a little worse for wear, but you’re all alive and relatively healthy. That’s the most important.” You leaned in and kissed his nose because it was an adorable nose. And sure, maybe you wanted to be little and escape all of this sadness but you also figured there was plenty of time to be little in your future.

After you had finished talking with the boys.

Hoseok was the next you managed to corner, in Tae’s room since he was grabbing the boy’s pillow, and it must have been clear from your expression or the way you closed the door that you wanted to talk to him about something important because he definitely blanched and looked for a way to escape.

“Hobi,” You murmured pitifully, pouting. “Don’t tell me you’re already sick of me.”

He froze. “No, never, don’t even joke about that.”

“Then sit with me a moment?” You asked as softly as you could, talking as though to an animal that looked spooked, trying to calm him down back into your trust.

He was hesitant, maybe a little stiff, but he sat down on the end of the bed with you.

You took one of his hands in yours, just sort of feeling them. “I just wanted to find out, from you, what happened while I was gone. I’ve talked with some of the others…but I wanted to hear your story.”

He took a deep breath, his hand closing around one of yours and giving it a soft squeeze. “It was so quiet after you were gone, and I don’t think any of us knew what to do or say. Then Yoongi insisted on us being allowed to go home. Even after we got home…the silence was just unbearable and you…what was left of your presence was everywhere and I couldn’t stand that you weren’t there. I couldn’t believe they actually took you away from us. I wanted to cry but I just got angry. I got so angry. Because you were ours, a part of us, and you would forget us, but we would always, always remember. They were the ones who made us get you in the first place and then, after us being on board since the moment we met you, they made us let you go.”

You bit your lip.

“They made us let you go and…and if they had it their way we would never see you again and I couldn’t handle that. And I was so frustrated and heartbroken and Jin asked me if I wanted to eat and I…I really lost it. I’ve never been so terrified of myself.” He breathed in shakily. “I don’t know why I said those things. I don’t know why it was so important to me, it was just whether I felt like I could eat or not but at that time it felt like a complete judgement of my wellbeing. Whether I was okay or not and I wasn’t, and I argued with him. I argued and argued and Namjoon started arguing with both of us and I was just so frustrated and…I….” His voice cracked, and he looked away from you.

“You hit Jin,” You murmured.

He sobbed slightly and nodded. “I didn’t mean to. I would never hurt them. I hate fighting.”

“I know,” You whispered, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re our sunshine. And I know Jin forgave you. You were under a lot of stress.”

He just pressed his face into your shoulder, crying for a while.

You carded your fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him while he cried and work through it all.

He took a breath finally, barely moving so that he could keep talking. “It was just…really hard to care about work when it was the reason we lost you. When they’re the ones who took you away. I never thought I’d have a time where I questioned the fans’ affection for us but I did. And then the others were struggling so much and I didn’t know how to help. Normally we know how to help each other. We’re so used to it. Usually it would be easy to distract Jimin, or cheer up Jungkook. Normally I could get Jin-hyung to joke with me, or get Yoongi to crack a smile. But…we were also used to you being there for us.”

“It must have been a scary time.”

He nodded slowly. “I think Namjoon thought it was his fault that you were taken away. Like, if he was a better leader then you would have still been with us. He pretty much completely retreated into himself. I know Jin-hyung dragged him out of the house to see the therapist, but other than that he was either in his room or in the studio until about two months ago. That was when we all sort of…came back together.”

“What brought that about?” You asked, curious. It sounded like they were all hot-messes, so you weren’t really able to picture any of them coming together.

Hoseok frowned slightly, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m still not sure. I was in my room with Taehyungie and then Jimin came in and said the others were waiting in the living room. But Namjoon did the talking at first.”

You nodded, carefully wiping the tears from his face. “I love you.”

He gave a sob-laugh and carefully pecked your lips. “Love you too. I’m going to wash my face again.”

You laughed softly. “I don’t blame you. I have to go corner Namjoon.”

“Good luck.”

Namjoon was easy to corner, and he opened up even more easily. “I think we were all blaming ourselves, and sometimes even blaming ourselves for loving you. It’d almost be like if we lost one of the members, we’d all go mad.”

You nodded. “And you spent a lot of time blaming yourself. Also you decided to throw yourself into your work and ended up making a hospital visit.”

He winced a little, rubbing his neck and giving you a sheepish smile. “Not my finest moment. Actually, there were a lot of moments like that after you were taken away.”

“Tae said you tried to step down from being leader.”

He groaned. “It was a nightmare. The members and Bang PD-nim all cornered me after a week and basically told me no, then showed me everything that they did wrong without me. I was fixing it for weeks.”

You laughed softly, sympathetic even if you didn’t completely know what went into it all. “You know they probably gave them extra things to mess up on purpose?”

He nodded. “It did occur to me that that might have been the case. I appreciate that they appreciate me.”

“Anything else happen that you want to tell me about?”

“Yoongi and Jin…I think they’re the only reason we didn’t completely fall apart. And I know I didn’t make it easy for them. Honestly, I think the only one who made it easy was Taehyung. I felt bad when I saw how much Tae was struggling and we had a small fight. I don’t even know that he would call it a fight, but Tae asked to stay with me in the studio and I was insistent on not letting him. He was crying when he left. I think he was trying to reach me, bring me back in. I didn’t let him and I know that hurt him a little.”

You sighed, moving over and cupping his face in your hands. “Joonie. You came back. You continued on as their leader, and all of you are together, and you all found me. Sort of.”

“You definitely found us first,” He answered, pulling your hands off of his face and instead drawing you closer so that he could hug you. He then kissed you somewhat chastely. “You’re the remedy to cure all ills.”

“Definitely not,” You answered, laughing a little. “Namjoon…when you all came together again…what started that?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I technically started it. I was the one to talk about us once we were all gathered…but it was strange how we all gathered. I only know that Jimin got Hoseok and Taehyung. The rest of us seemed to be there intuitively.”

You nodded, a sneaking suspicion that Yoongi or Jin or both of them had somehow managed to coordinate that. You fluttered a bit to reach his lips and place another kiss on them. “Good talk. I’m going to go hunt down a Yoongi or Jin.”

He grinned. “Good luck, baby.”

Jin was easier, since he just finished shaving and was completely unaware of you about to stop him and ask about the time while you were away.

“It was a little rough, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Why?”

“Because all of the others, Yoongi aside because I haven’t talked with him yet, have given me some stories about what happened the first two months after I was taken. It sounds like you had it really rough. Between Hoseok, Jungkook, and possibly Yoongi hitting you and wrestling Jimin to keep him from searching the town like a madman and dragging Namjoon to the psychiatrist….”

Jin looked uncomfortable, which you expected. He didn’t like talking about unpleasant things. He didn’t like dwelling on the unfortunate, he’d rather be happy.

You waited silently for him to say anything.

“Hoseok would have hit anything at that moment, I just happened to be the closest thing to hit. And Jungkook…well…we both provoked that. And Yoongi…he…he didn’t hit me. Not…not like that. His was more like when you cry when your overwhelmed and you try to fight against it. Except he did it to try not to cry. He wanted me to blame him so badly because he blamed himself and I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault and I wouldn’t blame him for it. Life happens. Just like burnt pancakes. All we can do is hope the next pancake doesn’t burn since we have more experience now.” He shrugged.

“You’re okay?” You asked, hugging him.

He nodded. “I’m more than okay, especially now that they’re all happy again. I know it’s still going to be a rough for a while because we’ve got stuff to work through, but the biggest problem is resolved and we have each other to get through things with.”

“You and Yoongi arranged the meeting where you all came back together,” You said firmly.

He smiled and nodded. “Took us a week to set that up. Tae and Jungkook were easy. Hoseok was also ready. Jimin was starting to calm down and listen. Namjoon was talking again. Yoongi and I just carefully planned for everyone to meet in the living room. We really only told Jungkook and Jimin to come to the living room, and with Jungkook it was more like a ‘come cuddle with me because hyung needs you right now’. Namjoon came in and just seemed to think we were waiting to call a meeting because Yoongi was telling Jungkook that someday we would all come back together and I guess the timing was just…perfect. Especially since I was the one to talk to Namjoon about the group coming back together.”

“Sly oldest boys,” You whispered happily, smiling. “They’re so lucky they had you two.”

He smiled back.

“But it must have been exhausting.”

He laughed a bit and nodded. “Yeah. Really exhausting. Yoongi and I would crash in the same bedroom at night sometimes just to complain about how tiresome trying to wrangle them were.”

You giggled, imagining both of them just grumbling until they fell asleep. “Know where Yoongi is?”

He shook his head. “No clue. But he might be in with the others already.”

You nodded. “Help me drag him out if he is?”

“Anything for you.”

Yoongi was in the room, looking confused at Jungkook who was blocking him. “I thought we were watching a movie?”

“After you talk to me, we are,” You replied before Jungkook could. “I don’t expect it to take too long. Seokjinnie’s didn’t.”

Jin stole a kiss for the use of the nickname and the cutesy voice.

Yoongi apprehensively took your outstretched hand and followed you back to his room, sitting with you.

“I just wanted to ask you about the first couple of months after I was taken away,” You said carefully. “Everyone had a bit of a rough time. Jin mentioned that you blamed yourself.”

Yoongi didn’t look at you. “If I had kept my mouth shut about you changing sizes—”

“Then they would have found out some other way,” You quickly cut him off. “That fansign wasn’t the first time they tried to get me in front of a crowd with you boys, it was just the first time they succeeded. Because I didn’t have a choice that time. And you’re one of the ones we get to thank for all of us being together again.”

Yoongi looked at you, meeting your gaze. “You’re…you’ve grown a lot this time.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I really haven’t, I’m just really worried about all of you. Even though most of the things to worry about have passed. I just…I want everyone to recover and know that everything that happened may have happened for a reason. To help you all grow, maybe, or…or maybe to help your fans see that it’s okay for you to have me. That I’m a part of all of you now.”

He laughed silently, then pulled you closer. “You can be small now, little wing. It’s okay. I think now that you’re here a lot of things will get better.”

You felt a little relief wash over you, and you shrunk to the size of a small child, letting him pick you up and carry you back toward the room. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just…hold onto me a little longer,” He said with surprisingly frankness, but as quietly as he could.

So you held onto him tighter, letting him carry you to your designated spot on the bed and telling them you wouldn’t let go when they complained about wanted a spot next to you, and that they could have the spot after the movie.

There was still a lot left unsaid, but you didn’t feel like crying anymore. And if you did feel like crying, you didn’t have to hide your tears.

The bond between them was stronger than ever.

And no one would ever take you from them again.

You would always be loved, and you would always love them.

What more could a fairy ask for?

–

Previous

Masterlist  -  ot7 Masterpost

Tagging:  @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld  @subzerobts     @forvever-ddaeng  @vividwoosan   @mischiefmakerliesmith5  @beach-bitch-bitch-beach  @minmeowmeowcuddles  @kpopfictrash @castlewolfsbane @scatkpoptrash  @knjhe  @i-dont-even-know-fck @soulphoenix1618 @kerikaaria @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @reinaxans @mcusuperfreak @londongirl2011​  

#bts fluff #bts ot7 #bts x reader #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader #bts #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #jhope #hoseok #yoongi #suga #namjoon #rm #seokjin #jin #fairy au #fairy reader #pixie reader #Fairy!AU #fairy!reader #diamond tears and little wings #diamondtearsandlittlewings fic

[yandere-society]

The Rabbit Hole

Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.

Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired 

Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it. 

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.

Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story! 

We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!

Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango​ 

Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know! 

Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon. 

People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me? 

Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire. 

The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing. 

Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together. 

I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine. 

This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.

I’m going to be a Suh!

...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...

“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk. 

“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.” 

The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.  

“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water. 

Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold. 

“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.

The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight. 

“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person. 

“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear. 

The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...

“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces. 

My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field. 

“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain. 

The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me. 

“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor. 

There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist. 

“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?” 

“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-” 

“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come. 

Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.

-

I’m chasing something odd in my dream. 

I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing. 

When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast. 

I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains. 

“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face. 

But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am. 

This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?

“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men. 

Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail. 

“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”

My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy. 

...What a dreadfully vivid dream...

-

I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two. 

Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle. 

Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit. 

I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me. 

A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.

The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family. 

I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.  

The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room. 

“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?” 

“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother. 

“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”

Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.” 

More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again. 

Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites. 

We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room. 

“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.” 

“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows. 

I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely. 

“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”

I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch. 

Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant. 

“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-” 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” 

A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend. 

It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.  

“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me. 

The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” 

“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.” 

“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more. 

The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me. 

“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week. 

“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.

“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount. 

“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.

“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly. 

“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.” 

“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me. 

“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.” 

Kim Seokjin...

I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand. 

I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.  

“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.

Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features. 

Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire. 

I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone. 

A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.” 

“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?” 

“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.” 

-

The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.  

My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer. 

“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.” 

I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago. 

It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well. 

But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave. 

Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him. 

-

Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice. 

When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing. 

Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take. 

I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I... 

No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…

I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages. 

Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl. 

“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.  

“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands. 

“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.  

I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me. 

Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened. 

From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?

It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain. 

Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?

-

I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America. 

“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!” 

“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?” 

“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over.  “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”

I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.

You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:

THE WONDERLAND BALL 

A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”

For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole 

Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside

Cheers, 

                                      The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company

“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.” 

“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?” 

“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace. 

-

“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes. 

“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”

“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!” 

Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.” 

“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”

Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns. 

Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so. 

-

“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse. 

“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway. 

I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this. 

“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning. 

“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”

Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp. 

“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”

Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper. 

-

Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry. 

My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief. 

But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence. 

A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in. 

I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…

All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room. 

With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room. 

My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls. 

As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.

I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well. 

Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts. 

Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares. 

The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to. 

“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I  turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”

“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn. 

His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board. 

“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”

“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us. 

“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”

“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.

“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room. 

“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.

“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me. 

As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy,  dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!” 

A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase. 

Mr. Jeon Jungkook. 

The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”

“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.

“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.” 

My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”

“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”

“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.

“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at. 

“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”

“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.” 

“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.

“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”

“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.

“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me. 

“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”

“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”

“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of  this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue. 

The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second. 

People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure. 

“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues. 

“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.”  My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise. 

Kim Seokjin.

With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue. 

“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.

“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.”  Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.” 

Trouble…

My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously. 

A lightbulb finally goes off in my head. 

“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?” 

His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.” 

“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.  

“You have my word.” 

Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find. 

So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.  

I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.

Don’t tell me I actually want this…?

I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?   

“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not. 

I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me. 

“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.

“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction. 

I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.

“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.

I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.

My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes.  The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.

It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.       

“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.

I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.

Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more. 

I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man. 

“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire. 

“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago. 

His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.                          

Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.

“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.

“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain. 

“I live to serve.” 

I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.

Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.

Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.

“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses. 

Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.

I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.

“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.

“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white. 

“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”

“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”

Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.

My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up. 

A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him. 

My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.

“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed. 

“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.” 

Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on. 

 “The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us. 

Is he going to watch us?

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.

“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.

The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.

His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.

“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.

“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.

His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.

“Please, Jungko-“

He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.

Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.

“Jung-” I choke on my words.

He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.

“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.

I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.

“J-Jungkook..!”

I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.

His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.

I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need. 

As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.

Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.

The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.

“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.

Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.

“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”

His words finally tip me over the edge.

I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.

“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”

As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.

He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.

More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.

“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.

He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.

“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”

Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing. 

He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.

“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“

“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”

His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...

“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.

I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.

Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck. 

“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his. 

“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”

Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.

“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.

I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.

“Jungkook!” I gasp.

He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.

“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me. 

He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.

Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.

“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.

“Jung! Ah! Kook!”

Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show. 

I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.

My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way. 

“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.

My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.

He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.

“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought. 

In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.

I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?

Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.

It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.

“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.

My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”

Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation. 

I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.

He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.

Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.

“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets. 

“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”

“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.” 

I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt. 

“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.” 

---

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! 

#yandere-society #yandere #yandere bts #jungkook x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #kim seokjin x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #seokjin smut #jin smut #jin #seokjin #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #jk #alice in wonderland inspired #the rabbit hole #bts #bts fanfiction #mintedmango #therealmintedmango

[morganaspendragonss]

Can I ask for fingore square? As someone who broke their finger during the pandemic....can I request that with some hurt TK?

holly's august extravaganza day 28: ignoring every warning

thanks for the prompt brit! the fingore square had been requested by the time i saw this message but here's the fic anyway! hope you like it 😊

thanks to @silvarafael for the beta!

ao3 | 1.3k | minor injuries, hurt tk, big brother judd, mostly just tk being a dumbass

TK is fine.

He is absolutely, 100% fine.

And, sure, maybe he’s not supposed to be at work right now, and maybe his hand hasn’t fully healed yet, but it’s nothing. His doctor cleared him to go back to work, which means it’s healed enough, and TK is certainly not going to admit defeat no matter how much he hurts.

He mostly just wants to put the shame of it all behind him. After all, it’s not like the entire firehouse saw him get so distracted talking to Carlos on the phone that he slammed the ambulance doors shut on his hand—

Oh, wait.

It had been weeks of teasing and jokes that TK wasn’t sure were all good-natured. Even Carlos, the traitor, had joined in once or twice (or three, or four, or five times…), and it was only Carlos’s frustratingly effective cow eyes and TK’s own displeasure at the thought of sleeping alone that had kept him from the couch.

Technically, the doctor had said that he should stick to light duty and keep the hand brace on for another few weeks, which he kinda, sorta isn’t doing.

But he’s fine.

He makes a point of saying so to Nancy when she sends him the third exasperated look of the day—and they’re only two hours into shift.

“Whatever you say, dude,” she replies drily. “Just don’t come crying when you re-break that hand because you’re a dumbass who won’t admit when he’s in pain.”

The slight smirk on her lips is enough for TK to gather that she’s referring to the first time he broke it, and...maybe she has a point.

(“I’m okay, I just need to shake it out for a minute.”

“TK, none of your fingers look the way they should. I bet you anything you can’t even move that hand right now, but, by all means, go ahead and shake it.”)

(He did. It did not go well.)

“I’m fine,” he repeats, scowling, which gets him a totally unwarranted head shake and eye roll. Well… Whatever. Nancy can think what she wants; TK is going to finish his shift and he’s going to manage it perfectly well, thanks very much.

And he does. Admittedly, his hand is aching more than it probably should be, but he just needs to rest it when he gets home, which—ah.

Problem #1: He and Carlos still haven’t finished setting up the new house.

Problem #2: Today is their only joint night off for the rest of the week, which leads to,

Problem #3: They’d agreed to spend the night sorting some furniture and unpacking a few important boxes.

Logically, TK knows he should tell Carlos that he doesn’t feel up to doing any heavy lifting tonight. He’d understand, there’s no question of that; Carlos would likely spend the entire night fussing instead, probably mixed with a bit of loving exasperation at TK for having pushed himself too much. But he doesn’t want to let him down, not again. Not after the months spent fighting with the insurance companies and struggling to find a house, and especially not after Carlos had supported TK while the firehouse was closed down.

He flexes his hand experimentally. It’s a little stiff and the soreness brings a grimace to his face, but it works.

He’s got this.

*

TK is, maybe, just a little less than fine.

Like, 85% fine. 70% absolute minimum.

But it’s okay, because now he has a day off to ice his hands without Carlos hovering like a mother hen. Normally, he’d hate the idea of spending the day without his boyfriend, but the less Carlos knows about this situation, the better for both of them.

The ice helps, and the dull throbbing that’s become his normal for the past couple of days almost disappears. TK knows he shouldn’t push it, but his need to be busy always wins over training and common sense, so.

So.

*

The next shift is a little easier, and TK figures he’s probably healed enough to head to the gym for a while. Get his strength back up, and all that.

He’s very, very wrong.

Ten minutes in, and TK hits the punching bag in a way that elicits a crack from his knuckles that not even he can write it off as fine. His hand hurts and his fingers are starting to look horribly swollen, and shit, Carlos is going to fucking kill him later.

Maybe…

Maybe he can fix this. He’s a paramedic; he can strap up his own fingers. Sure, it’s his left hand that’s injured, but he can handle it. He just needs to get out of the gym, through the firehouse, loot the ambulance, and bandage himself up without running into anyone who will ask questions.

Simple.

Except, because the universe hates him, TK quite literally runs into Judd on his way out of the gym. The knock sends an unpleasant jolt through his injured hand, and TK doesn’t manage to contain his wince in time to hide it.

Judd doesn’t even bother asking what happened; he simply sighs heavily and gets out his phone, tapping away at the screen.

TK cranes his neck to try and see what he’s doing, but Judd holds his phone close to his chest, blocking his view. “What are you doing?”

“You obviously got your dumb ass in a mess again so I’m texting your boy to come get you.” Judd shoots him an unimpressed look, rolling his eyes at TK’s horrified stare. “What, you’d rather he find out about this later or something?”

“No, it’s just—I was gonna tell him!”

“Uh-huh.”

It’s a lie and they both know it, so TK doesn’t bother trying to defend himself. He huffs and folds his good arm across his chest, scowling at Judd.

“You can stop looking like that,” Judd remarks, gaze fixed back on his phone as it pings with a new message. “Carlos is on his way.”

“I hate you.”

“Shockingly, I can live with that.” He pockets his phone and takes TK’s shoulder, almost pushing him down the stairs. “Come on, kid. Let’s get some ice on that.”

“I can take care of myself, you know,” TK says, though he knows Judd isn’t going to let him out of his sight until Carlos arrives.

“Yeah, that broken hand says otherwise.”

There’s a barely contained laugh in Judd’s voice, and TK has the sudden urge to punch his smirk away. Which would only really prove the point, so he has to resort to glaring at his back and ignoring the warmth at the thought of Judd taking care of him like the brother TK never had.

When Carlos shows up ten minutes later, the concern in his eyes betrays the deep exasperation painted all over his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” TK protests anyway. “It’s not like I asked for this to happen.”

Judd snorts—rude—and Carlos grins over at him, sharing a head shake—even ruder—and TK lets out what even he can admit is a pathetic whine.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Carlos says, not sounding sorry in the least, “but you have literally ignored every single recommendation from the doctor. The only thing you haven’t done is actually ask for it.”

“They’re recommendations, Carlos.”

“And you’re a paramedic, so you should know that ‘recommendation’ is a kind way of saying ‘order’.”

For the second time, TK has no defense. He huffs and looks down at his shoes, hoping that he paints a miserable enough picture to get his boyfriend to take at least some pity on him.

Somehow, it works, as Carlos takes him in a careful side hug. “Sorry,” he repeats, more earnest this time. “Let’s get you to the ER, huh?”

TK nods reluctantly, allowing Carlos to steer him out of the firehouse. “Can’t believe I’m going to have to take even more time off,” he grumbles.

“Well, think about it this way.” Carlos rubs his arm in a soothing gesture, though his next words are anything but. “At least you’ll have more time to finish up with the house.”

TK groans. His day did not need to get any more painful.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #judd ryder #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #brit tag

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: August

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: July

Note: I’ve had a super busy day, but I wanted to get this posted so I edited it really quickly. Please forgive me if there’s any little mistakes!

Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged and commented! Hearing your thoughts really makes my day!

-----

August 2020

I think you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who actually enjoys moving - especially if that move involves a three year old who feels the need to be very involved in the packing, but is also incredibly easily distracted. And even more so when that child's father is almost just as distractible and, despite his insistence that he'd stay focused, does more to hinder the whole operation than help.

That was the situation that I found myself in at the end of the first summer of the pandemic because we were moving in with Chris.

While I was hesitant at first, it made the most sense and neither Grayson nor I were particularly eager to return to our tiny little apartment. I still felt that it was pretty early in our relationship for us to be living together, but we'd survived so far and moving back seemed like it would do more harm than good. Grayson had settled in nicely at Chris' house and another big change - like making him go back to having two homes - seemed like it would be very disruptive.

But moving came with it's own challenges.

After our conversation a few months earlier, Chris had told all of his most trusted friends about our change in relationship status. That came in handy as a few of his buddies - who had trucks - had volunteered to help us move things the last weekend of August, but packing had me feeling overwhelmed. I'd managed to give most of the furniture away - between our friends and Chris' family - but we still had way too much stuff.

It was on that Saturday morning that I found myself sitting in the middle of Grayson's old bedroom almost in tears. I'd packed up his mountain of toys the night before only to find Chris and Grayson unpacking several boxes the next morning while I was trying to finish up in the living room. Apparently, Grayson had wanted a certain toy that I'd already packed and instead of telling him to wait because he had several other things to play with that weren't boxed up, Chris helped him look for it.

He was trying to be helpful, thinking that repacking a few things would be easier to deal with than a meltdown from Grayson, but it had been a long, tiring week as I tried to get everything organized and their actions almost pushed me to my breaking point. I scolded them both and banished them to the little playground just outside the building while I set to work cleaning up their mess.

Almost twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on the front door as it creaked open. I poked my head out of the room I was in - ready to send the boys straight back outside - only to see Chris' oldest and closest friend, Tara. She was masked up for safety and knowing how sweet and helpful she was, she was a refreshing sight. I'd met her several times, mostly when Grayson was a baby and I lived with Chris, and she'd been a calming and encouraging presence back then so I was definitely relieved to see her during another time of high stress.

"Hey," I smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought supplies," she informed me, holding up a tray of iced coffees. "Chris called and said that he thought you could use some help."

"You're a lifesaver," I groaned with pleasure as she put down the tray and handed me one of the drinks. "I need this, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she returned my smile. "How's the packing going?"

"Not bad now that the boys are outside," I laughed. "It's pretty much all done, I think. You never realize how much junk you have until you have to pack it all up."

"Oh my god, I know. We moved last year and it felt like the piles of things we had to take was never ending."

"It's crazy," I agreed. "Especially with all Gray's stuff. I thought we did a good job of not spoiling him, but he has an insane amount of toys."

"I can imagine," she cringed. "But I have no plans all day so just tell me what you need help with and I'm all yours."

I thought for a moment as I sipped the coffee she'd brought me until I had an idea.

"Actually..." I started, feeling a bit sheepish. "Would you be willing to take Grayson for a bit? I know it's a big ask, especially while he's so excited, so feel free to say no."

"Are you kidding? I'd love to take him!"

I let out a breath of relief as I felt my body relax.

"Thank you so much. I really need Chris to help me carry these boxes and he's been so preoccupied with Grayson that he's been no use at all," I explained. "It's a big change and he's worried about him being freaked out by it all, which I totally get, but I need him to focus a bit too."

Tara laughed and shook her head.

"I get it, don't worry. I know what he can be like," she assured me. "I'll go down and get Gray now and send Chris up here."

"Thank you. You're the best, Tara."

She waved off my gratitude and insisted it was no problem before leaving me to turn my attention back to what I'd been doing before she arrived.

-

Once Grayson was in the safe care of Tara, Chris was much more useful. We were packing things with impressive speed and when it was almost time for his friends to show up with their trucks, we started moving things down to the lobby of the building to make the loading process quicker.

I was a tad nervous about the whole situation as I hadn't spent much time with most of Chris' friends and I didn't really know what they thought of me. I hoped they'd be understanding of our situation and give me a chance, but if he really had been pining away for me all these years - thinking that I didn't want to be with him - I worried that they'd think I was selfish and heartless.

Those worries, combined with my stress about getting everything organized, had me still feeling rather on edge. It didn't help that the creepy maintenance man that I'd warned Chris about was watching us like a hawk. I could feel his eyes on me every time I stepped foot in the lobby and the sensation made my skin crawl. I just wanted to get it all done and over with as fast as possible so we could get away from him, but Chris had clearly noticed him too and I could feel his annoyance rising as well.

He held it together until our last trip down when our spectator really crossed a line. I was bending over to place some boxes on the ground when I could have sworn I heard a groan of pleasure from behind me. I snapped back up to standing and looked over my shoulder to see the man with a smirk on his face and his eyes fixed on me. It made my stomach churn, but Chris was immediately by my side, his arm sliding around my waist. Before I could even question what he was doing, he pulled down his mask and then my own, cupped my jaw with his hand and pulled me in for a kiss.

It was a rather passionate embrace and I was surprised as he usually wasn't one for public displays of affection. Then it hit me why he was doing it and I felt a flash of annoyance run through me as he pulled away. There was a smirk on his face as he rested his forehead against mine, but all I could muster was a frown.

"Do you think he got the hint?"

I scoffed at his question.

"I think he got enough pictures to pay his bills for the next few months," I huffed, keeping my voice low so we wouldn't be overheard. "Are you done marking your territory now?"

Chris looked taken aback by my harsh tone and I sighed as I slipped out of his grasp and headed to the door. I wanted to see if his friends had arrived yet and get away from the creep, but Chris followed and wasn't prepared to let our conversation drop.

"What, so I'm not allowed to kiss you in public in case someone sees?" He asked once we got outside, his own annoyance coming through. "I thought you didn't care if people found out about us?"

I stopped walking and spun around to face him.

"I don't care," I snapped. "But I'd rather not give some pervert the chance to profit off of us just to save your wounded pride."

Even with his mask pulled back up, I could see Chris' jaw clench with frustration.

"He was being disrespectful. I was standing right there and he moans while staring at your ass? C'mon, he's a fuckin' asshole."

Another flare of anger washed over me as I fought to keep myself calm enough to explain to him why what he'd just said was almost as frustrating as the actions of the man who'd been ogling me.

"He was being disrespectful," I agreed, my voice steady despite my rising temper. "But to me, not to you! It doesn't matter if I have a boyfriend or not, he shouldn't behave like that towards any woman! I don't deserve to be respected because of you, I deserve to be respected because I'm a human being who has a right to feel safe in their own apartment building."

Chris' shoulders dropped as he took in my words and visibly calmed down, but I was still feeling wound up.

"Shit, Winnie, you're right," he relented. "I don't want anyone to treat you like that ever, not just because you're my girlfriend. It just pissed me off that he had the balls to do that even in front of me."

"So kissing me like that to send him a message was the best solution you could think of? Like, 'don't touch this one, she's mine'. It made me feel gross. I don't need you claiming me in public to scare off creeps, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that," Chris insisted, looking slightly wounded by my scolding. "I'm sorry, I was being an idiot."

"Okay," I shrugged, somewhat blowing off his apology. "We should go to the parking lot. Your friends might be here."

"Are we good, Win?" He asked, clearly not as eager to let the subject drop. "I want to make this right if you're upset..."

"I'm fine," I sighed, knowing that was only half true. It was only half his fault though, the stress of the day overall was more to blame and, at that point, I just wanted it to be over so I could have a nice big glass of wine. "Let's just go see where your friends are."

He didn't argue as I walked off and when we turned the corner into the parking lot, his friends were all there lined up in the visitor's spots. I forced a smile despite the fact that it was hidden by my mask and waved as we walked over.

"Hey!" I greeted them. "Thanks so much for doing this. We really appreciate it."

"Ah, no worries!" Jon assured me. "But, are you really sure you want to move in with this guy?"

"Yeah, we were just talking," Zach continued. "And it feels a bit Stockholm syndrome-y. He confines you to a house and suddenly you fall in love? Seems a bit suspicious."

"Wow, guys, glad you're on my side," Chris laughed. "I wouldn't have asked you to help out if I knew you'd try and change her mind!"

"We just want to make sure we're not committing any crimes here," Luke insisted. "I don't want to be an accomplice to anything and we're all scratching our heads about what she could see in you."

Chris shook his head at their teasing and I tried to push our earlier discussion from my mind as I giggled and slid my hand into his. I felt him tense up in surprise at the gesture, but he relaxed as I squeezed it and leaned against his arm.

"There's no Stockholm syndrome here," I assured them. "It just took a pandemic and the constant threat of impending doom for me to come to my senses. I'm just lucky Chris was silly enough to wait for me."

Chris chuckled and leaned over to place a kiss on the top of my head as his friends rolled their eyes.

We quickly went over the game plan for the day once the initial greeting was over and as soon as his friends turned to head towards the building, I dropped my hand from Chris'. I knew I was being petty and sulky and from the sigh that fell from Chris' lips, he did too, but I couldn't help it - I needed some space to work through my cranky mood on my own. Luckily, Chris seemed to figure that out pretty fast and left me to my brooding as we followed his friends and got to work.

-

It didn't take us as long as I expected to load all the boxes into the trucks, but that was probably the benefit to having a team of strong men helping you move. Once it was all unloaded into the spare bedroom at Chris' place where I had been sleeping at the start of the pandemic, Chris broke out a few beers for his friends and fired up the grill while we waited for Tara and Gray to arrive. It was a beautiful, warm evening and perfect for an impromptu barbecue to thank all Chris' friends and it was a great opportunity for me to bond a bit more with some of the most important people in Chris' life.

Grayson knew them all better than I did, but we had some concerns that the lack of socialization would make him nervous around the now somewhat unfamiliar faces. But he put those worries to bed almost as soon as he arrived as he was the life of the party. He was thrilled to see the three men who were sitting in the lawn chairs dotted around our yard - in an effort to keep everyone somewhat distant from each other - and the cheer they let out as soon as they saw him made me think they were just as excited. They seemed to really adore him and he thrived on the attention. It warmed my heart to see the genuine care they all had for Grayson - it was wonderful to know he had so many people in his corner - and I was relieved when that care was extended to me.

Any doubts that I'd had about them accepting me were quickly pushed from my mind as they seemed to be just as eager to get to know me as I was to get to know them. They were all lovely, kind people and I wondered why I ever expected anything else from the people in Chris' inner circle.

They left as soon as Grayson's bedtime rolled around - partially because we were all tired from our long day of moving boxes and partially because we all knew there was no way that Gray was going to agree to go to bed while the party was still going. Once they were gone, he demanded Chris tuck him in so I tidied up in the kitchen while he handled bedtime.

As soon as I'd finished putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher, I felt his arms around my waist.

"Hey," he whispered in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Thanks for cleaning up."

"You don't need to thank me," I smiled, turning in his arms so we were face to face. "It's my house to keep clean too now, even if that's still weird to think about."

"Weird in a good way?"

"Definitely," I nodded. "It's felt like home here for a while now. It would have been awful to go back to that little apartment."

"It would have been weird for me too," Chris agreed. "I can't imagine being in this big house without you guys anymore."

"You'd have to move all your friends in," I teased, using it as a segue. "Who, by the way, are all very nice."

"Yeah?" Chris grinned. "You think so?"

"I do. I was a bit nervous about it," I admitted. "In case they resented me for how our relationship unfolded, but they're great."

"They never resented you at all," Chris chuckled. "Pretty much everyone who knows about our first night together was on your side about that and they've been pushing me to make a move ever since."

"Well, that's good to know."

Chris nodded and continued.

"They all really like you. Jon gave me clear instructions to not fuck it up."

I laughed at that, but felt a wave of relief.

"I appreciate their support."

"Well, you definitely have it."

Chris leaned down to press his lips against mine and I melted into his body, feeling the exhaustion from the stress of the day start to hit me. We stayed like that, just holding each other for a few minutes until Chris broke the silence around us.

"Can we talk about earlier?"

My stomach churned with embarrassment at the memory, but I nodded.

"Of course, we can. I'll start by saying that I'm sorry."

Chris leaned back slightly, just enough to look down at me with his confusion written all over his face.

"You're sorry? Why are you sorry?" He asked. "I brought it up so that I could apologize to you."

"You don't need to," I assured him. "I get why you did what you did. I just don't deal with stress very well and the whole day was overwhelming me. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You don't deal with stress very well? I never would have known!" His words were laced with sarcasm as he smiled down at me and I laughed, gently smacking his chest in protest. "But seriously, I deserved a good scolding. You were absolutely right with what you said, I shouldn't have handled the situation like that."

"I appreciate that you can see where I was coming from," I sighed. "But there is no perfect way to handle a situation like that, really. It's best just to ignore it, but then it feels like you're letting the gross guy win."

"Well, if we're ever in a situation like that again, I'll follow your lead," he insisted. "But I can't say that I'll just ignore it. I might just punch the guy out for being a creep."

I laughed again before shaking my head.

"And then whoever is watching will have a different kind of picture to sell to the trashy magazines."

Chris cringed at that comment.

"I'm sorry. Do you really think he took pictures?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "But if he recognized you then I'd be surprised if he didn't."

Chris nodded, clearly getting lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again.

"And you really don't care if proof gets out that we're together?"

"I don't," I insisted. "I don't like the idea of some pervert making money off of us, but I don't care if people know we're together. It might be good for people to get used to the idea now, when we're hiding at home all the time anyway. By the time we can go outside again, no one will care enough to take pictures of us."

"That might be wishful thinking," Chris smiled. "But I'll do my best to keep you out of the spotlight."

I matched his smile and stretched up to place a kiss on his lips.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

As I predicted, the creepy maintenance man did take pictures of us and he did sell them to some trashy magazine. The internet was horrified, the hearts of fangirls all over the world were broken and I was called every cruel name under the sun. There were rumours that I trapped him with another baby and rumours that I was a gold digger - just using Chris for his money so I didn't have to work during the pandemic. The general reception to the forced confirmation of our relationship was pretty abysmal, but nothing worse than we expected and at the end of the day we didn't care.

All the people who truly cared about us were happy for us and that was the most important thing.

-

September

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fiction #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

[drxwsyni]

Ties That Bind

Demon!Matsukawa Issei x f!Reader

Synopsis: You move into your grandparents old home, situated in a quaint little town for a fresh start. What you don’t expect is there to be a remaining occupant in your new abode, much less when it asks you to help him out.

8.5k words

Warnings: Noncon (starts consensual but turns non-consensual), unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of blood & injury, coercion, stalking, slight hair pulling, pet names, condescension, kidnapping.

_____

You were never one to believe in the supernatural, but you wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere along the lines of your lifetime, you were cursed.

From the rundown apartment you were stuck in, unable to afford a move into a nicer complex, to your recent break up with a long term, painfully neglectful and borderline abusive partner―nothing in your life seemed to work out for you. Over the course of a year, you managed to lose all of your friends, leaving you alone while you stumbled down the path of uncertainty since losing your companion, even if they were a shitty one at that. The job you had ate away at your sanity with each shift, and the fumes of energy it left you with made anything outside of working and tending to your basic human needs impossible.

What you needed was a fresh start, and out of pure luck, that’s exactly what you got.

A certain chill swept past you as you walked up the driveway to your new home. It was a pleasantly comfortable and secluded abode―once belonging to your grandparents, and now belonging to you. They’d recently made the move south, seeking a warmer climate and leaving behind the quaint little town they’d lived in all their lives.

By chance, they thought to call you and offer up the home, and the humble flower shop they ran before leaving. It would all work out impossibly well―the house was paid off, and you already knew how to handle the work of a florist, having seen your grandparents in action many a time when you were younger.

The opportunity was impossible to pass up.

As you finished unpacking the few belongings you took with you, the sense of constant anguish that always seemed to linger lately was already diminishing. With the welcoming smell of a lit fireplace, and the warm surroundings of not just the tasteful interior decorations, but the autumnal changing of the seasons outside―settling into this new lifestyle felt like second nature.

It was a breath of fresh air. Literally―their home was situated about a ten minute drive from town, surrounded by nothing but a colourful forest of maple and oak trees, leaves beautifully bathing your vision with oranges and reds. The change from the smog ridden atmosphere of the city you once resided in was entirely welcome.

You truly felt at ease here, and soon enough days turned into weeks, this utterly perfect way of life sweeping you off your feet and carrying you into what could only be described as complete tranquility.

_____

Your grandparent’s home wasn’t exactly new...it’s how you tried to rationalize the strange occurrences.

When you were younger you remember your grandmother telling you that the thuds and creaks you heard was just the house moving. Expanding in the warmth and shrinking in the cold, things falling in and out of place―normal happenings that you could ignore. However, she never mentioned anything about the sounds of scratching.

You knew what mice and rats that lived in the walls sounded like, no thanks to your shitty old apartment. But these sounds weren’t that. They were long, drawn out and following you. Down the halls, above you as you tried to sleep. Part of you tensed whenever the indescribable scrape of god knows what met your ears, before leaving just a few seconds after it came and not returning for hours, sometimes even days on end.

You rationalized that like all the other bizarre things, this was just a result of the house being old.

That, and the cold gusts of wind, things falling over, the occasional flickering lights. It was all just byproducts of an ancient home, right?

Only, that didn’t explain everything else.

How when you opened or closed a door, it felt like some invisible force was pushing or pulling more than you. When creases on your bed appeared without you having touched it since making it before going to work. Especially not when the things falling out of place were being put back into place. Soon even the items you sent astray yourself ended up where you were too careless to tuck away to begin with.

And certainly, an old home couldn’t explain this feeling.

It came and went, almost unnoticeable but indisputably there if you focused hard enough. A sixth sense of sorts―the one you get when you just know that someone is watching you. But you’re the only person in the house, and when you look over your shoulder there’s nothing to suggest why the distant and mildly unnerving feeling is just barely making itself known.

Not a single plausible thing can make sense of all the peculiar little things happening around you. You can’t fix it, and so the only thing you can do is try to ignore it.

For a while, it actually works.

It's easy to get over it when aside from the things that go bump in the night, everything is just as ideal as the day you moved in. The townspeople who welcomed you with open arms are still just as friendly. Many of them were already your close friends by now, sharing dinner with them a couple times, falling into idle chit chat as you stumbled upon them during a trip to the grocery store or grabbing take out at the local diner. Your new job as a florist was going better than you could’ve ever imagined. The somewhat old fashioned building was picture perfect―brick walls overtaken by wildly growing vines, the setting sun hitting it just right every evening as you were closing up. At the end of the day you could relax, knowing there wasn’t really anything worth worrying over.

At least, that was until you saw it.

You caught the obscure figure in the corner of your eye, but you could’ve sworn there was a man staring at you from the corner of your room. It was morning, and you were at your vanity prepping for the shift ahead of you. For a split second it seemed like the reflection in the mirror hosted an additional figure. But when you turned to face the corner, such a thing had disappeared. As your heart stopped racing, and you forced yourself to put a halt on the spiralling “what if’s” of your mind, you decided it was just your eyes playing tricks on you.

Just shadows creating false realities, nothing more.

But those shadows came back. Not just once, but multiple times.

The next day you saw something standing in the window of your bedroom as you pulled up into the driveway. Just like last time, it vanished in an instant. The same figure ghosted your vision at the end of the hall, a blink and it was gone all the same. At one point you were just reading in your living room, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace at the end of a successful work day. Your eyes were trained on the paragraphs of the pages, when out of nowhere a thick blanket of unease enveloped your body.

Something was in the room with you, and it felt like they were standing right behind you.

You dared not look, despite part of you knowing that if you did there shouldn’t be anything there. Instead, you screwed your eyes shut, wordlessly chanting like a hymn in your mind that you were alone, there’s nothing behind you.

All at once the near suffocating weight lifted. You opened your eyes, turned around and just like you suspected, or rather hoped―it was just you and the rickety old walls of your home.

Honestly, you started to feel like you were losing your mind.

The lifestyle you’d adopted in this homely town of yours was still as enjoyable as ever, only for that serenity to dissipate slightly when you returned home.

Eyes, eyes, eyes.

Eyes here, eyes there. Not false realities, but a presence that was real just as much as yours. It felt strange to be worried about such a thing, when nothing bad was coming out of the shadowy figure occupying your space, aside from the occasional feeling of being watched. You were unsure of what to think―whether you should get the hell out of dodge, or just accept this strange being that you weren’t convinced was even there.

Because aside from the innate instinct to be on edge when that presence made itself known, things were fine. You could ignore it since without fail it always went away when you looked hard enough.

One day, out of pure frustration from the back and forth of your conflicting mindset alone, you let it slip that you wished whatever the hell was haunting you would stop being such a coward and really show itself. You laughed at yourself after, having thrown the comment out to absolutely nobody, realizing how crazy you looked.

Little did you know, that was the invitation it wanted.

_____

You mentally cursed your grandparents for owning such inconvenient appliances. The washer and dryer in the basement’s laundry room were certainly worse for wear. But they weren’t broken yet, and you weren’t willing to pay for the expensive upgrade. Which of course meant that you were stuck trying to fish out a shirt from the bottom of the washer, a loose thread getting caught on a jagged edge that was notorious for holding your clothing hostage.

After nearly falling into the opening from having to reach so far down into it, you relaxed with a deep exhale as you deposited the once stuck article into your laundry basket.

Unfortunately for you, the washing machine wouldn’t be the only faulty part you’d have to fight against while in the cold and damp basement.

The door to the laundry room was just one of the many things that would inconvenience you. Unless you propped it open, it would always shut on it’s own. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue, but now as your hand reached for the doorknob, and it feigned to twist under your influence, it was becoming very much of the sort.

“C’mon….damnit!”

Frustratingly so, you yanked on the handle, jiggling it every which way―yet it would not budge. You noted that you’d left your phone upstairs before coming to do the laundry, meaning you were left to brute force your way out if you didn’t wish to waste away in this small room.

For a moment you paused, closing your eyes to steel yourself from those thoughts that only served to cause more panic.

“I was waiting to see how long it’d take you to get locked in here.”

You nearly yelped at the sudden voice behind you, practically jumping ten feet in the air as your body whipped around to face its source.

And whoever was standing just a few steps away from you―everything in your being knew that it was practically dripping in danger.

Standing well over six foot and sporting an impressively broad frame, with short and slightly curly black hair was...a man? All signs pointed towards that, except for the glaringly contrasting black and pointed horns protruding from his hair.

They were only about two inches long at the most, but they were there nonetheless. Entirely inhuman, matching the black abyss of his eyes, which somehow looked amused at your reaction. He was clad in similarly black clothing, but nothing that seemed abnormally fashioned―at least not in human standards.

He probably seemed amused because you were standing there quite literally frozen, mouth agape and at a loss for words. There were so many things you could say, the plethora of confused and afraid thoughts racing through your mind being ripe for the picking. However you still remained silent, a building anxiety inside screaming for you to do anything.

This unit of half man, half whatever returned your gaze, eventually letting out what may have been a disappointed sounding sigh. When he was the first to move, taking languid strides towards you, something snapped in your brain, allowing you the strength to break out of the astounded trance you were in.

“D-Don’t come any closer!” Frantically, you stumbled backwards, which wasn’t very far, your back colliding harshly with the still locked door.

The horned creature continued his slow approach, taking in your much smaller form with each step. He let out a low chuckle at your words, finding them if not a bit cute, when they were trying to be intimidating. “Oh? And what are you gonna do about it, little human?”

Before you could even begin to process a response, let alone voice the retort, he was already standing right in front of you. With a towering frame, he leaned down in order to face you, making you cower impossibly further into the door behind.

“This piece of junk gets jammed all the time, just gotta mess with it―kinda like….” His hand reached down beside you, the other casually pocketed. As he spoke, the overhead luminance of a lightbulb caught the glint in what you could’ve sworn were fearsomely large canine teeth. A resounding click came from the door, “....that.”

The frame you were leant up against disappeared, and your whole body was sent falling off balance. You should’ve gone crashing down onto the concrete floor beneath you―but a pair of strong arms wrapped around your torso before that could happen.

This time a small shriek did escape your lips when you were forcefully pulled into the stranger’s firm chest, your back pressing against it. A shiver ran through you as he spoke teasingly into your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. “So, you’re a clumsy thing too?”

Adrenaline finally kicking in, you squirmed in his hold, noting with horror as the hands that gripped you had significantly clawed nails, looking like they’d rip straight through your flesh if you weren’t careful. “Get the hell off of me!”

He was deeply entertained at the way you pushed against his chest, your strength paling in comparison to his. Just because he found the sight of you flustered being amusing to no ends, he made sure to relent on letting you out of his arms for a moment. But, in truth, he wasn’t here to scare the living daylights out of you. And so regretfully, he loosened the hold that hadn’t been straining him in the slightest, letting you put some distance in between the both of you.

You were downright mortified at the events unfolding, hair tousled and clothing wrinkled from your brief struggle. A part of you was appalled at how he seemed so nonchalant with his actions, and his appearance in general, that feeling only magnifying at his words.

“Don’t act so surprised now, this isn’t exactly the first time we’ve met after all…”

At that statement you were gone right back to being speechless―because deep down, you realized that he was right. Taking a step back, you could sense that the air hanging in the room carried similarities to the times you caught that shadowy figure lurking in your peripherals. It didn’t feel suffocating now, but the energy it held was a secondary hint at his unnatural presence.

Which would mean that this man who had appeared out of thin air...was the thing that’d been watching you all this time?

Still lost in thought, you barely registered that he’d walked past you and back into the laundry room. “That’s right, little human. It’s only ever been me.” Seemingly sensing the deep confusion you felt at his words, he continued. “Your thoughts are quite loud, y’know.”

You watched with bated breath as he picked up your laundry basket that was still resting atop the dryer, mindlessly letting him hand it to you. Choosing to overlook the fact that he’d blatantly invaded your head to read your mind, only because you didn’t have the capacity to unwrap what that meant, you figured it would be best to start with the basics.

“What...What are you even―” If your eyes could’ve gotten any wider than they already were, they absolutely would’ve.

Smirking to himself, the inhuman stranger picked up a piece of clothing that had fallen out of the basket. He held up the thin, delicately laced panties, snickering as you snatched them from him in a frenzied motion.

You shoved them under the pile of clothing in the basket, “What are you even doing here? And―And how are you here?”

Now that was the reaction he was waiting for.

The sinister smile he gave you did nothing to calm your rapidly beating heart, accompanied by the whole body tense you felt. There were those literal fangs again, bearing themselves as he responded.

“Well, cutie―it’s a long story. But if you’ll have me, I’ll gladly explain it…if it means I get to spend more time with you~”

With a white knuckled grip on the laundry basket, you returned his smug expression with a stern look. Regrettably, you realized that you’d be a fool not to implore on the reasoning behind his unwelcome occupation in your home. It was invasive, and you suspected that the answer to ridding the house of him laid somewhere in whatever tale he was offering to recount.

The knowing look in his blacked out eyes told you he was just as aware of this reality as you, simply awaiting the inevitable answer you were sure to give.

Defeatedly, you agreed to hear him out, a sickening feeling settling in your stomach in seeing his pleased demeanour.

And so was the beginning lines of a contract between you and this resident creature, one that in its completion would bind you to him forever.

_____

He was summoned for quite innocent purposes, it turns out.

This demon who’d slyly instructed you to call him Issei was brought to your world to assist your grandparents. They made a deal―he helps their business, and once they made enough money to move they would repay him.

The problem was, they royally messed up their part of the deal.

Issei apparently got his repayment, but they failed to properly banish him from their home, or rather your home, which he was tethered too. It just so happens that he didn’t realize this until after they’d left. He’d be damned to the home for all eternity, “If only there was a nice little human capable of freeing me…”

Before resigning yourself to assisting the demon in getting him back to where he belonged, you questioned him. And he didn’t really have a choice but to answer, that was unless he wanted you to move out just like your grandparents and leave the next poor soul to deal with him. Naturally, he was just as willing to respond to your questions as he was in previously explaining the circumstances for his entrapment.

Since realizing that he was the entity stalking you from the shadows, you felt a tad...unnerved by him. Why should you help the thing that was unashamedly watching you without your consent after all?

“You were just as much of a stranger to me as I was to you. Had to make sure you weren’t a bad person and all.”

Now that made you laugh, coming from a literal demon.

But, you suppose you couldn’t blame him. That’s not to say the whole thing didn’t creep you out, but in hindsight he could’ve done much worse.

The fact that all he did was keep an eye on you for a while had to show for something, right?

When it came down to it you could either find a way to send Issei home, or move out. Which would mean going back to your old life―being miserable in every capacity.

You’d take a demon over that any day.

The agreement was formed after having gone through three cups of tea, and a bag of potato chips shared between the two of you (it turns out demons liked junk food). Issei would quit being such a creep and stop lurking in the shadows, and you’d use your free time to figure out how to help him.

It was how you ended up in the dusty and dark attic of the house.

Now, your grandparents weren’t always the sentimental type. When they made the move south, they wanted to transition into luxury, which wasn’t exactly what took up the space of their old home. The antique furniture had its charm, but it was nothing compared to what they were anticipating for their new abode. It was for that reason that they left nearly everything behind. Unless it went for a good selling price, or it held legal importance, they saw no need for it.

When you first stepped into the place, it honestly felt like they left in a rush. But you knew better, and so you didn’t pay it any mind.

You were grateful for everything entrusted to you now though, because after nearly an hour of rummaging through the cramped attic, Issei doing little to help, you finally found what you were looking for.

Your grandma’s old journals.

The demon who was lazily lounged on the big wooden crates snickered a little as you coughed on the dust that flew into the air when you blew at books. And then, when you were sent into a sneezing fit, he full out started laughing.

You sent the menace a nasty side glare, “The least you could―” another sneeze, “―c-could do is help me, asshole.”

It was something you suspected had to do with his unnatural makeup, but Issei quite literally towered over you. As he drew near, giving your head a few pats, you once again found yourself in awe of the sheer size of him.

“Alright, hand it over. Clearly your weak human form is no match for these all powerful dust bunnies.”

Quite smugly, as if he was doing you a lifesaving favour, Issei took the box of journals from your hands and headed for the stairs of the attic. For now, you chose to ignore his irritating comment, realizing that the sooner you got to those journals, the sooner you could get rid of him.

_____

Well, at least he wasn’t lying to you.

After what felt like hours of reading, probably because it did take that long, you finally stumbled upon the entries that detailed the origin story of the demon’s summoning. All in all, you couldn’t exactly blame your grandparents for seeking supernatural assistance. Sure, making a deal with a demon to boost the popularity of the floral shop held a lot of uncertainties, but it seemed to go fine for them.

And you really couldn’t blame them when they just so happened to end up with such an easy going demon at that. You had no clue such business could be so simple and stress-free, but the pages of your grandmother's writing told you that you really did have nothing to worry about.

With that in mind, you decided to do some backtracking.

Surely somewhere in these faded and withering pages would hold the key to sending Issei back to wherever he should be. There was enough writing for her to have mentioned it at some point―but that was the issue.

In counting, you found a total of thirteen journals, each one about an inch and a half thick. All that reading, and you had no clue where the answers to your problems lay. However, whether you should be grateful or not, Issei didn’t seem to be in a rush to get home. Which meant you had all the time in the world to scan page after page of the journals.

It was safe to say that it’d be a while to complete such a task. Enough time in fact for the two of you to grow very comfortable with each other.

While it took a little bit to get used to, you soon found the demon’s presence to be much less of a weight on your shoulders than it once did. Since Issei stopped existing as a shadow, the strange looming sensation you felt disappeared.

You figured that, even though you strictly told him not to, he may have invaded your mind to find out how his more inhuman characteristics didn’t exactly sit well with you. Now, you couldn’t deny that he was easy on the eyes, but it was hard to focus on that when something so unnatural was also staring you in the face.

One day you came home to see that those demonic qualities were gone. Horns disappeared, eyes looking human, and razor sharp claws reduced to short and blunt fingernails.

Once again, you never said anything, but the knowing smirk he held gave away that he very well knew how attractive you found him to be in that moment. Of course, you’d grown used to his teasing attitude by then, steeling yourself and moving on with the rest of your day.

While you worked to understand the ins and outs of the witchcraft your grandparents used, things around the house were generally nice. He acted like an oddly supportive and chill roommate, if anything strangely attentive to you. When there wasn’t anything to do, Issei simply preferred to watch you go about your own business. Technically it beat him doing the whole hiding in the shadows thing, but you couldn’t say his eyes that you could’ve sworn became a little darker than normal when watching you made you feel a little antsy.

He was a demon after all―an entity stronger than you could ever comprehend, one that was choosing to simply follow your movements from his laid out position on the couch as you did one thing or another. Such a contrast in strength even in that state would naturally make you want to shrink under his unrelenting gaze.

It was safe to say that it took a while to get warmed up to him. But the journals were long, and you were still searching for answers. And so eventually you developed a fondness for the demon stuck in your home until further notice.

Despite how you started reading the journals the moment you found them, there simply wasn’t enough time in the day to put a significant dent in them over the span of maybe a few hours. One week turned into two, then three. A month had passed and you were only a quarter of the way through the pile.

Finally, four months later, you had reached the end...sort of.

In that time you’d learnt how your grandparents had been meddling in the demonic arts for many years now. Small things here and there, nothing as serious as summoning a demon. It was for that reason that you were quite regrettably unable to find anything that would tell you how to send Issei home. Even more so was the painful curiosity you got from discovering some severely burnt and unreadable pages in the last journal. It couldn’t have been more than a few of them, but for all you knew, they could’ve held the solution to your problem.

The last entry was detailed pretty normally. Your grandmother wrote of how they were nearing the end of the contract. With the flower shop having thrived for a long while, they finally had enough funds to make the move. All that was left was to figure out what the demon wanted in return for his assistance. But that’s where it ended, leaving you with nothing to help you with your own challenges.

Right now, all it really meant was that Issei wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

That fact held a strange reality―concerning how in these four months, you developed a strange bond with him.

It almost embarrassed you to say, and you’d never openly admit it to him knowing the relentless teasing you’d get, but a part of you didn’t want him to leave. You reasoned it was due to the neglect and general mistreatment you received from your last relationship, because you couldn’t deny the strange longing you felt to be around him.

At first when you tried to push Issei away, he laughed at you. All we wanted was to be there for you, provide some casual comfort as it was one of the few things he could do for you. The comment of it being ‘what you deserved’ didn’t go unnoticed by no means. In fact, it stuck in your mind and stayed at the forefront. Replaying in your head each and every move he made to be closer with you.

Sure, he could be a little cheeky at times, a few innuendos here and there. But other than that, you never quite minded his touch. If anything, you welcomed it.

He was everything you wanted in a partner. Observant, thoughtful, attentive when he needed to be. You didn’t have many reasons to be stressed in this new life, or in need of relief so to speak. But when you were, when you did need a distraction, he was always there.

You were no stranger to Issei’s more affectionate side. Four months of living together in such close and secluded quarters allows for a lot of exploration between what the two of you meant to each other after all. Up until now, you took how he always offered a shoulder to lean on, passing embraces and absentminded physical gestures to be something more platonic in nature.

Now however, you weren’t so sure.

While the flower shop was still thriving, you were the only person running it. It left you a little more worn out than usual, a particularly busy week leading you to have some pent up anxieties.

And of course, Issei noticed right away.

You brushed off his insistence to let him help you wind down at first, but a few days of the strain on your body had you yearning for something to ease the ache.

And the book you were reading just wasn’t cutting it.

You let out a huff of frustration, your mind unable to focus on the words. Also laying on the bed beside you, Issei quirked an eyebrow at the small commotion. You failed to notice the way his eyes took in the sight of you clad in your thin nightgown, how his lips quirked into a knowing smirk from your idea of trying to read to help you fall asleep for the night doing jack shit.

“You really gotta relax a little, sweetheart.”

You sent him an unserious glare before you returned your focus to the book. “I’m trying to.”

The bed creaked a bit as he drew closer, assumedly trying to see what story could possibly be so captivating that would have you acting this serious. Really, he was stealing a glance down the front of your nightgown, exposing your supple skin.

A shiver ran through your body as he leant down, speaking low into your ear. “Why don’t you just let me help, s’not like I haven’t done it before.”

While he wasn’t wrong, the reality was he’d never done anything like what he was insinuating. You never had to ask him how he wanted to help you relax, when a warm hand rested atop your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

How the hell were you supposed to focus now?

You didn’t push him away as the hand curled into your inner thigh, thumb moving back and forth against your skin. Only a little worriedly, you attempted to press your legs together.

“Issei, I―”

“What, is my little human shy?”

Your heart began to race as the deepness of his voice, being so close made you physically shudder. The grip on the book's spine tightened. “T-That’s not it, I just…”

You were forced to pause mid sentence as his hand crept further up your thigh, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he continued to pull you deeper into the wanton trance.

“I think if you knew what was good for you, you’d finally let me take care of you.”

He hadn’t even touched you where you were finding yourself wanting him to the most, but the pooling heat you felt was already so incredibly intense. You could feel the slight dampness in your panties, body aching with need so quickly at his actions.

“...Why don’t you let me give you what I know you want.”

Of course he was able to tell how much you were losing yourself to his words, with the way your breath’s pace picked up, lids half shutting with anticipation. As the pads of his fingers finally grazed your clothed pussy, and you let an airy sigh escape your lips, the both of you knowing how you can’t deny his offer.

Especially not when those fingers push the delicate fabric to the side, teasingly trailing up your folds.

“I think it’s time that―” he accentuates those low spoken words by applying the perfect amount of pressure against your clit, “―you really relax, yeah?”

Almost immediately, your hips buck against his hand, grinding yourself into it and earning more delicious stimulation. You didn’t even realize the way your book slipped off your lap, too caught up in how Issei’s fingers began rubbing steady circles against the little bundle of nerves.

A hand flies to your mouth in an attempt to stifle the few high pitched moans escaping you. While you are a little confused as to why you feel so goddamn needy, you don’t really care. Quite the opposite, you eagerly part your legs as his fingers dip lower to your entrance, gathering up some of your arousal. You're unable to stop the whine as he pushes a finger in, skillfully curling it against your walls.

Even harder is it to stop the way your breath hitches and your walls clamp down as he adds a second finger, hitting that spongy and sensitive part of you seemingly easily.

It’s impossible for him to miss your cute little reactions, “That’s your spot, pretty girl?”

You all but keen at the saccharine tone lacing his words, head pressing into the pillow as his digits make languid thrusts into your heat. Wrapped up in the way he’s perfectly working you over, you didn’t fight him as he leant over your body and began leaving open mouth kisses against your neck. Or, when he latched onto a particular spot that had you writhing gently underneath him, hands gripping his biceps to ground yourself.

Much quicker than usual, that warm and familiar pressure was building inside you, lewd noises of your slick meeting your ears as Issei quickened his pace. He spoke against the skin of your collarbone, small marks growing darker here and there from his ministrations. “That’s it, little one. Give it to me…”

Although it was spoken quietly, you could’ve sworn the command felt like it was playing out in your mind. Reverberating through your fleeting thoughts, coaxing you to fall apart. A near blinding sensation ripped through you as his thumb repeatedly swiped at your clit, a few more seconds enough to push you over the edge that you reached almost shamefully fast. Issei didn’t let up, helping you ride out your orgasm as you remained in that intense state longer than you ever had before.

When you eventually came down from your high, panting and a light sheen of sweat adorning your face, you did feel more relaxed. But somehow, that same heat you felt persisted.

You must have been out of it longer than you thought, unaware of just how you came to be now entirely bare, nightgown and panties nowhere to be seen.

That, and the fact that Issei was just as uncovered as you, hovering over your mildly exhausted body. With glazed over eyes, you drank up the way the bedside candle bathed his body in a warm and flickering light, highlighting his tanned skin. You would have remained that way, enjoying the view of his broad and well built frame, if he hadn’t interrupted you. And, if you weren’t already so far gone in the motions, you might haven protested as his lips captured yours in a deep kiss. It was too late for any that now. Your mouth parted in a weak sigh as his hand came up to cup your breast, pinching the already hardened nipple and experimentally rolling it in between his fingers.

Out of pure need to breath, you pawed against his toned chest, relieved when he let up. Not before nipping at your now swollen bottom lip, he chuckled a bit to himself, having a proud smirk in seeing your blissed out expression.

“...Told you I could help.”

The burning ache in between your legs refused to leave, despite you just having experienced what was likely the most intense orgasm you’d ever had.

Issei could see the desire written across your face, bringing a hand to affectionately cup your cheek.

Even that contact alone was stirring the same need in you, making you lean into the gesture as you practically pouted up at him.

“What’s wrong, baby. That not enough for you?”

If it weren’t for the teasing lilt in his voice, you would’ve felt bad for what you were about to ask.

Lashes wetted slightly with tears, you peered up at the demon who was awaiting an answer.

“I want more, please…”

For the first time in ages, your drifting gaze landed on those sharpened canine teeth of his, shining in the candle light from his lighthearted grin at your pleading.

It was taking everything in him not to lose himself in your vulnerability. Having you so openly grapple for his touch was downright intoxicating, and even for a demon as strong as him, the pull to absolutely ravage you was almost irresistible.

But he couldn’t do such a thing―not yet.

Issei was quick to oblige your request, positioning himself between your legs and lining up with your dripping entrance. Just because the sight of your frustrated pout as you waited patiently for more was sickeningly addictive, he took a moment to tease you even further.

A jolt of pleasure shot through you as he rubbed the weeping tip of his cock along your glistening folds, nudging your clit and earning a desperate mewl from you. Your whole body felt like it was melting under even the smallest of movements, limbs beginning to grow weaker. Just as the tears welling in your eyes threatened to spill, Issei leant down and planted his lips softly against yours.

You suppose it was a distraction, as you felt him begin to push past your entrance. Having been previously drowning in the way he was eying you like prey, you never quite caught a glimpse of what was in store for you. You now knew all too well though, your nails digging into his biceps as he slowly split you open on his cock.

Hearing your pained whines, Issei brought a thumb back down to circle your puffy clit. In parting, you turned your head to the side as he began planting light kisses along your cheek, continuing along your jawbone.

“Takin’ me so well, such a good little human…”

The praise he purred into your ear had you keening, wanting to earn more as he finally sunk into you.

Out of mercy for your much frailer composition, Issei paused until you gave him those pleading eyes to keep moving, your lower lip tugged between your teeth.

And god, how could he refuse that.

He reared back before snapping his hips into you, the force causing you to yelp as your whole body was jolted. Issei looked down at you, an animalistic look in his eyes as he began a steady pace.

You clawed at his shoulders, the sheer size of him making it effortless to hit that sensitive and spongy spot inside you with each thrust. His whole body was massive, engulfing your frame and showing you just how small you were in comparison now that he was so close.

“Aren’t you just a mess for me. This tight little cunt is fuckin’ drooling.”

It felt like with each word that left his lips, the burning desire grew more and more intense. Maybe it was because you hadn’t properly gotten off since Issei had made himself known four months ago, but right now you couldn’t care less. The drag of his cock against your walls had you weakly writhing underneath him, back arching and legs kicking out.

Issei took pride in the way you squirmed, each slam of his hips causing you broken moans and high-pitched whimpers. You were babbling nonsense, of how good it felt, how good he felt. He saw the way your eyes were glazed over, rolling into the back of your head, not focused in any capacity on the way he was changing right above you.

A large hand wrapped around your throat, and distantly, you could feel a sharp sting against your sweat covered skin.

“Look at you, my sweet little human―you need me, right?” Issei all but growled out the question, squeezing your neck tighter when you failed to respond.

“Y-Yes! Fuck, I need you, need you s-so bad Issei.”

While you were falling apart, panting and drool seeping from your mouth, the demon was as collected as ever. With his rhythm increasing, you felt the coil tightening and threatening to snap with each passing second, your legs wrapping around his hips and trying to pull him impossibly closer.

“That’s right, you fucking need me, you belong to me―say it.”

You were so close to reaching that peak for a second time, too absorbed in the feeling to respond.

Issei felt the way your walls fluttered, clamping down against his length. As much as he wanted to see your face contort in ecstasy only he could deliver you, he still needed one last thing.

His hips stilled right as you were about to come undone again, pulling out almost all the way and leaving just the tip.

“Say it, human. Tell me who you belong to.”

The demand was harsh, ringing inside your head and mixing with the lust filled haze clouding your mind.

“You, Issei! I’m yours, please don’t stop, I-I’m―”

Your eyes shut tight as he slams back into you, pace quicker than ever as you fail to notice how the entire room begins to change. All you can register is the blinding sensation of your building release, it crashing upon you in waves. Somehow more powerful than the last, you’re reduced to a convulsing mess as he keeps moving inside you while you cum.

There’s a certain ringing in your ears, a muffledness that slowly fades as you calm down. Your heart is beating hard against your ribcage as you tearily crack open your eyes.

You’re not in your room.

The black ceiling that hangs above you is not your own, nor are the satin sheets of similar colour you lay upon. What was once your home is now everything but the sort, a bedchamber large and grand. The hanging chandelier and mounted sconces light your vision.

They light the still looming frame of Issei.

He’s changed too.

Those once hidden and inhuman horns have made their return, his eyes darker and sinister. And the fangs you caught a glimpse of earlier, crimson.

A thin trail of blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, falling and landing on your chest.

“Such a naive little thing you are…”

Startled and still far too sensitive, you gave a silent scream as Issei thrusted back into your heat in one fluid and harsh movement. You pawed against his chest, body still exhausted and turning your protests into nothing more than feeble pawing.

“S-Stop, Issei. S’too much, p-please.”

Instead of slowing down, his movements quickened, a brutal pace being set as you frantically tried pushing him away.

You didn’t know where you were, but in the back of your mind, you knew how you came to be in this strange place had something to do with the demon ignoring your pained sobbing.

Even in seeing your face twisted in anguish and confusion, he kept that self-righteous grin on his face. “Made me work to own you, I’ll give you that.” Issei’s hand, once wrapped around your neck, gripped you by the hair.

A sharp sting shot across your scalp as he forcefully beared your neck. With a swipe of his thumb, the demon smeared the still fresh blood leaving the bite wound on your neck. You cried out in pain as all of a sudden the punctured area began to burn.

“But with this, you’ll never be able to leave me.” A deep laugh reverberated in his chest at the prospect of his words, not ceasing the movements that were somehow lighting that same fire in your belly once again.

You mentally recoiled at the whole situation, the feeling of unbridled fear swelling inside you.

“I said st―” “Stop? That’s cute, sweetheart. But…” Eyes gleaming with hunger, drank up your messy and exhausted, small form. “...Little humans like you don’t get to make choices for yourselves―not anymore, at least.”

Despite his words doing nothing to encourage you to speak, if anything only frightening you with how they weighed down on your conscience, you still forced yourself too. To your appreciation, Issei slowed his pace slightly, giving you the chance to catch up with your thoughts.

“I-I don’t understand, why are you―”

A searing kiss cut off your questioning, his length stilling and remaining buried inside of you. He wasn’t anywhere close to being gentle like before. This time, his kiss felt rough, claiming as his fangs pierced the soft skin of your lower lip, the metallic taste of your own blood flooding your mouth.

When he pulled back, you were just as stained in red as he was.

“You were the deal, sweetheart.”

Issei reclaimed that fast and bruising pace, pelvic bone grinding against you and catching your clit with each cant of his hips. He relished in the way your nails left marks in their wake against his shoulders and back, finding your attempts to both search for something to steady you and push him away at the same time greatly entertaining.

“Your fuckin’ grandparents left once they realized they weren’t what I wanted―” Large hands met the underneath of your thighs, bringing them up to press against your chest, “Gave me you to earn their freedom.”

By now the tears once fleeting had developed into a steady stream, you hiccuping as you feebly attempted to form words. “That’s...s’not true, they w-wouldn’t do that.”

As the declaration left your mouth, you thought your mind was totally lost and playing tricks on you. In the palm of Issei’s hand appeared the burnt pages to journal number thirteen.

“It’s not? Then why did the crazy witch write it all down?” Carelessly, he tossed the badly blackened pages away, scattering them across the bed.

Your gaze followed the mess as they splayed across the sheets, view landing on the familiar scribbles and catching the last few lines jotted down.

“...Doesn’t deserve this…..I didn’..rea..ze…..he’s...monster…..the poor thing….......I’m sorry….”

Issei’s clawed hand turned your head back to face him, the sharp points of his fingers digging into your cheeks. While you knew he wanted your attention on him, all you could conceive was how this was just a repeat of your unfortunate history.

What you thought would be the start of a perfect new life was really the end of your already shameful one. Lured into fresh surroundings, only to find the air heavy with an awaiting darkness.

In a contrasting act of tenderness, Issei leant down, lips finding your fallen tears and kissing them away. Perhaps it was a pitying comfort, as you found those thoughts of despair suffocating, firmly cementing your fate with him.

But when he spoke, you knew it wasn’t because he realized your internal state from the look on your face, but from peering into the open book of your mind.

“I’ll take care of you, little human. Let me prove it to you.”

You might not have had the capacity to understand him then, but he meant what he said. In all of those months, he became everything you needed. And while it was to get you to trust him, to get you to give yourself to him―it wasn’t to say that he didn’t truly want to do all of those things.

From the moment you stepped into that house, Issei knew he was right in his judgment to respond to your grandparent’s summoning. The pull to heed their demands was strong, and for good reason. You were the being he was searching for. So he tended to all of your ailments, and in doing so realized he found what he’d been craving all these years.

He found the rush of feeling needed in you.

You’d have no choice to depend on him now, trapped in his realm with no way out.

Those details weren’t something you quite needed to know at the moment, however.

Whole body quivers washed over you, limbs feeling weaker than ever as both of you drew closer to release. Unrestrained moans left you as Issei’s length glided against your tensing walls, pressure building rapidly in your lower abdomen.

You weren’t anywhere near in your right mind as he relentlessly pounded into you, but you could’ve sworn the stretch of his cock felt bigger as his thrusts grew more erratic.

Showing that he really would take care of you, his hand snaked in between your bodies, the pad of his thumb rubbing messily against your sensitive nub.

With a few more rough thrusts, him still sloppily circling your clit with wide motions, you came around Issei’s cock for the second time.

He buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, and that of the wound he’d inflicted upon you. Chasing his own release, he sporadically rutted against you.

Far too exhausted to do anything about it, you could only lay breathless as a warmth spread inside you, uncaring of the mess dripping down your thighs as Issei eventually pulled away.

The night's events were catching up on you, maintaining consciousness being impossible no matter how much you tried. No amount of fighting to keep your eyelids open would help, simply delaying the inevitable.

As your grasp on the waking world slipped through your fingertips, the last thing you felt was the dulled sensation from the wound on your neck, spreading to feel like a collar chaining you down.

The demon, not nearly as tired as you, returned your body to a comfortable position. He’d deal with the mess he’d made once you were fully asleep and unable to protest, now choosing to watch you drift away.

That satisfied smile remained on his expression, thankful to have finally returned home. But more than anything, he was satisfied.

Issei found what he was looking for.

And, being the perfectly naive human you were, you finalized your fate in willfully agreeing to be his.

The contract was completed, binding you to him for all eternity.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere matsukawa #yandere matuskawa issei #yandere issei #yandere x you #yandere hk #haikyuu x reader #tw noncon #tw stalking #tw blood #tw injury #tw coercion #tw kidnapping

[nugnthopkns]

i’ll wait and i���ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it. 

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world. 

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years. 

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier. 

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps. 

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong. 

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence. 

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open. 

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance. 

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought. 

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet. 

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.” 

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother. 

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up. 

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard. 

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away. 

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food. 

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words. 

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake. 

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind. 

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories. 

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen. 

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness. 

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend. 

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#this is kinda shit but i've been toying with this idea for a while #it's done now and my brain can move on #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

#my writing #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings fan fiction #5sos one shot #5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #lol how do i even write things anymore #i feel VERY rusty #but alas #hopefully it's okay #lmk what you think!

[princessfbi]

#It’s the way that I can dissect this scene and the argument we don’t see but hear when Chimney leaves for hours

..... those tags tho, I’d happily read that dissection 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh man! I am more than happy to oblige.

SO... In order to talk about Buck and Maddie's fight during "Merry Ex-Mas" we have to talk about some people we don't like. Namely, Margaret Buckley and Doug Kendall.

Particularly about how Margaret essentially made Maddie into a mother figure for Buck and Doug point out to Maddie that she is in fact, his sister and not his parent.

Margaret and Philip, whether unintentionally or not, relied on Maddie to take care of Buck. They let her handle him; be his parent. A fine example is in Buck Begins after he fell off the bike. Buck calls out for his mother and she goes to him only to pull back when she sees the bike. It’s a rejection in its most complicated form. The bike, for Margaret, is a symbol of grief. But for Buck and Maddie it was a symbol of growth. Of Buck growing up and becoming a big kid. Of moving on.

Margaret allowing the bike, her grief, to be a kind of barrier to her kids essentially drew a wall between them where she was on one side and Buck and Maddie were on the other. Which can be devastatingly isolating for an about five year old. Five being old enough to realize when a cry for comfort has been ignored is also young enough to still be reliant on others. But their parents didn’t just block out Buck. They blocked out Maddie too. They left her with a kid.

So, Maddie took care of Buck. She raised him. She didn’t have a choice which doesn’t cheapen their relationship. It goes back to what I said in my Maddie character analysis. We would not have Buck without Maddie. The emotional neglect that Buck and Maddie went through could have wrecked them as people. Buck could’ve very easily been turned into a toxic masculine person with resentments that rivaled the size of Margaret’s towards her own children. But he didn’t because of Maddie. Because Maddie showed him what it was like to love and be loved in return.

Maddie saved Buck.

But Maddie was also a kid and because of that added responsibility, I don’t think Maddie had any real boundaries when it came to Buck. Anyone who had a hand in raising a sibling knows the feeling of ownership, if you will, over them. There's a very clear sense of agency you get when you had a hand in making someone into the way they are.

It's why Maddie didn't back down from Margaret when she threw out the accusation that she "didn't know what it was like" because Maddie "wasn't a mother yet." It's why Maddie from young age handed out discipline in a sense with her parents in how they spoke about Buck.

"Don't talk to him like that."

Maddie scolds her parents for the way they disrespect Buck and put him down. She calls them out on their complacency when it comes to their relationship with Buck. Maddie sees herself as a parent figure/protector/authority figure (if not the only one) in Buck's life.

Which leads me to Doug. I think Doug was the person who pointed that out. I think Doug was the person who showed Maddie that she needed live for herself just as much as she lived for Buck. I think Doug saw that lightbulb go off for Maddie and used that to manipulate her as well. Doug recognized and “respected” in his own way that Maddie’s relationship with Buck was something of great value in her life. It’s why he didn’t storm in on those nights where she was alone with Buck after he found her. It’s why he didn’t ask her questions about Buck. It’s why he didn’t demand she come home when she told him “I’m with Evan” on the phone in Buck Begins.

Doug recognized in his own way that Buck was a hard line for Maddie.

So, Doug gave Maddie boundaries for Buck and hoped that would bring her over to his side. And neither Buck or Maddie realized it because they were so used to emotional neglect/manipulation (which is a form of abuse) that they didn't even blink because in their minds', they still had each other.

By Maddie’s own admission, the only thing of value she had at the time, was her relationship with Buck and Doug knew that. So, rather than take it away, he pushed himself in between them as a way to put distance between them.

Boundaries with one another was something completely foreign to Buck because his own idea of a "boundary" was the extreme with his parents: to be shut out completely which Buck would then internalize as being his fault. So, Buck resents Doug not for giving Maddie boundaries with Buck but for not letting Buck be a part of creating those boundaries. He sees it as a way of being shut out again.

Let's take into consideration what Buck said in Buck Begins when he asked to go live with Maddie and Doug.

"It's Doug, isn't it? He hates me."

Buck recognized Doug as another wall in his life and the resentment Buck had wasn't aimed at Maddie but at Doug. He had complete faith that Maddie wasn't shutting him out because she didn't love him anymore. It was because he thought Doug never loved him to begin with. And it's at this point that I think Buck saw the similarities with Maddie in himself. After Maddie left, Buck found himself in the middle between his parents and her. Buck recognized that Maddie was now in the middle between Doug and himself. That's why he didn't confront her in the hospital about Maddie pretending everything was hunky dory. But Buck recognized, before Maddie did, that Doug was the one putting her in the middle.

"You don't have to pretend with me, all right? I know things aren't okay with Doug."

It wasn't until a new beginning, an opportunity for them to escape from their sadness that Buck finally addressed that distance and the reasoning behind it.

Let's skip back to "Merry Ex-Mas" now.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"So, you hate Christmas now. Something else I can thank Doug for, huh?"

This is something I think a lot of people who have been on the sounding board end of a loved one going through a break up where the loved one is still defending the ex can recognize. I think Buck expected a clean break because that's the way Maddie was presenting it. Because Maddie had no problems cutting off everyone else in her life such as her parents, her friends, and to an extent Buck in a very clean, compartmentalized process. So, to Buck this seemed like it should've been the same.

But it wasn't. Because Maddie's relationship with Doug was complicated and she didn't fully cut herself of from him (or at least, didn't stop making excuse for him which is an internalized form of victim blaming) until that moment in the car during "Fight or Flight".

Let's take a look though at the real meat of this argument.

"You can't come into my house, Buck, and act this way."

"'Come into my house?' I'm your brother. Typical old Maddie."

Here's the real kicker.

"Typical old Maddie."

Remember how I said that Buck doesn't resent Maddie, he resents Doug?

Here's what I think we sometimes forget because we, as the audience, view the show as a whole. We, the viewers, know the extent of the trauma Doug put Maddie through but Buck doesn't. All Buck sees is that his sister isn't acting like herself and the only reason he has for that is whatever happened with Doug. Buck doesn't know everything Doug put Maddie through because Maddie has been shielding him from it.

Remember in Buck Begins when Omar tried to get Maddie to tell Buck about what happened?

"Evan can never know."

Even with the events of Buck Begins, Buck is still learning the extent of the abuse Maddie suffered from Doug. He knew Doug beat Maddie and he knew it was pretty bad to the point that he almost killed her. But he didn't know until Chimney told him that the reason Maddie didn't leave with him was because Doug beat her brutally for picking a side; Buck's side. It's one thing to know the broad picture but an entirely different thing to know the details.

Because at some point along the way, Maddie's boundary with Buck became a protective shield for Buck. Maddie may have been in the middle between Doug and Buck but Maddie had put herself over the line in the sand beside Buck once again and neither Buck or Doug realized it.

Maddie doesn't want to explain to Buck why she doesn't want to celebrate Christmas because it's a painful truth for herself but for Buck as well. It's opening up that protective bubble and letting the risk of Buck and herself being hurt again. So, she's shutting down again which is something she'd done before to keep Buck out of that messy part of her life. Except, because Buck thinks Maddie has had this clean break from her life with Doug, he pushes her a little.

"Come on, you love Christmas."

And Maddie lashes out.

"And easy to lash out on the person that you know is always gonna forgive you."

It's a panic response, a knee jerk reaction, because she doesn't want to go through the painful process of unpacking that especially not with Buck because she was still continuing to shield him from it all. She lashed out because, subconsciously at least, she knew it would deflect him from it.

"Typical old Maddie."

And it worked.

#Maddie Buckley #Evan 'Buck' Buckley #The Buckley Siblings #TW Doug Kendall #TW Domestic Abuse #Buck Begins #Merry Ex-Mas #911 on Fox #TW Emotional Neglect #mellaithwen #ask #answered

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Noise

It was the ever incredible and wonderful @minky-for-short's birthday yesterday so I wrote her this fic! Thanks for being such a good friend and also for coming up with this brilliant Artist AU for Thanatos and Zagreus!

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Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!

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Thanatos wasn’t used to coming home to a quiet house.

When he was younger, he’d always walked in from school or training classes to the racket of a house full of his siblings. There would always be someone yelling, someone arguing, something crashing to the floor, a handful of brothers and sisters sprinting past. And something inside him would sink under the weight of it.

Even for the size of the house of Nyx, there were very few quiet places, driving Than up onto the roof if he actually wanted some peace after a long day. But then there would be Zagreus, on the good days, sitting beside him and telling some story to cheer him up when he could see Than was tired and getting run down. He was there waving his hands in the air, gesturing wildly as he walked across the spine of the rooftop, eyes bright and wild and full. There was all the life and joy inside him bursting out as noise the way, later in life, it would burst out in his art.

Was it any wonder Than had fallen in love with him? He was the only kind of noise that had filled him up rather than worn him down.

And then he’d moved out but you’d really be surprised how much noise Sleep Incarnate could make when it was just the two of you sharing a cramped dorm room. And when your boyfriend was over half the time, bumping his elbows on everything and playing his guitar very badly as you tried to study, making you laugh, or sketching you as you typed an essay and throwing balls of paper at you when you moved and changed the light.

And you’d smile and you’d realise this was the man you were going to marry.

Now they had their brownstone, perfectly placed between Thanatos’ office and Zag’s studio and there was more noise contained in those walls than the mansion and that little dorm room combined. At first it was music, bright, cheesy music blasting as they unpacked all of those boxes and fit their two lives together for good. It was Zag singing in the shower on a morning, it was Than clattering pots and pans as he recreated his favourite recipes of his mothers, pared down for just the two of them. It was Cerberus barking at the birds on the fire escape or whining and kicking in his sleep, sprawled out across the sofa Than had definitely asked he not be allowed on.

And then Theodora happened. When neither of them had been looking, their bright, beautiful baby girl had come into their lives with one green eye and one gold one and all of her daddy’s spark and her papa’s brains and if Than had thought his life was noisy before, he was a fool.

But his life felt fuller than it ever had.

So when Thanatos walked through the door that evening, he immediately froze, overwhelmed with the sensation that something was very wrong. Because his house was silent.

Frowning, he hung his keys on the hook and shrugged out the heavy black coat he’d been sweating in for the last few days of warm weather. He’d had meetings with potential clients all over the place today and it felt like each one had required at least a block’s worth of walking. Of course he could just have taken the heavy thing off, as Zag often suggested, but he didn’t feel quite right without it. But drowning in sweat or not, he’d sold three of his husband's paintings today and he really felt like it warranted at least a welcome home kiss from said husband, followed by his daughter hauling herself onto her wobbly little baby legs, begging him to pick her up. And any other day, he’d have that wall of noise washing over him, loud and comforting and familiar.

So where were they?

The living room was eerily silent too, Theo’s toys lying in boneless patience for the next time she came along to play with them, the radio normally permanently tuned to Zag’s favourite station voiceless. Than frowned, the sense of disquiet getting a firmer grip on him as he passed through into the kitchen. The pots from breakfast were still in the sink, the dregs of Than’s coffee he’d hurriedly downed on the way to his office now ice cold sludge in the bottom of his favourite mug. Normally he’d be coming home to Zag attempting to cook dinner, it was his job to calmly survey the knife edge of disaster it was balancing on and diplomatically extract his husband from the stove so he could turn it into something edible. It was the thought that counted. But there wasn’t so much as a pot of tea brewing, the normally warm and raucous room cold and still.

Than’s frown deepened and he looked for a note, something to explain they’d gone to the store or the park, Zag often scrawled something on the back of an invitation to the latest gallery showing or letter asking for him to submit some work and stuck it onto the fridge. Thanatos had rescued commission requests worth thousands from the front of their fridge before, still valuable even with a request for eggs and milk scribbled on the back.

But he couldn’t see anything. The fridge only held a now week old reassurance that Zag had picked Theo up from his parents’ and taken her to get ice cream. Not much comfort to Thanatos, his heartbeat now increasing significantly.

Zagreus never left him worrying like this, he knew his husband's anxiety was only ever waiting for the slightest little nudge to topple over into overdrive. Hands starting to tremble now, he groped for his phone in his pocket, unsure whether to first dial Zag, his mother or the National Guard.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to work that out because just as he was about to yank his phone free, he heard a noise from behind the back door, something muffled coming from their tiny little walled garden. Laughter. Two kinds of laughter and he knew both of them well.

Relief settling over him, Than tried not to look like he’d been panicking that much as he pushed the door back and walked into the golden late afternoon sunlight. Their little yard wasn’t much, just a square of concrete tiles, but the borders were overflowing with greenery and flowers in sheer defiance to the lack of soil, all thanks to Than’s mother in law. In was in the sparse shades of these towering grasses and flowering vines that Zag and Theo were giggling. They were both grinning the same crooked grin, both pairs of eyes alight with that same joy.

And they were both covered in paint.

“Good evening,” Than found himself smiling too, before he even really knew why, “And what are we up to exactly?”

If Than was still a little miffed at his lack of a welcome home, it was quickly made up for when both his husband and daughter gave unison cries of delight and rushed towards him.

“Than!”

“Papa!”

Than laughed, bracing himself so he wasn’t completely knocked off his feet by their hugs, wrapping his arms around them. He accepted a lingering kiss from Zag before Theo loudly interrupted it with a retching noise, tugging on the bottom of his coat and demanding his attention.

“You gross!” she declared loudly, “Daddies gross!”

“Oh are we now?” Than chuckled, scooping her up and covering her pudgy little face in kisses until she squealed, “Is this gross?”

“No but your shirt might be going that way,” Zag grimaced apologetically, noticing the paint smearing from Theo onto her papa, “Sorry.”

Than glanced down, eyebrows raising, “Ah. And why exactly is my daughter covered in paint? I know a small amount is normal but this rather looks like she’s been rolling in it.”

Zag’s face brightened, “You’re not far off! I had this incredible idea, you see…”

“One that involved an awful lot of mess?” Than’s smile quirked fondly.

“All my best ideas do,” Zag winked over his shoulder before stepping to one side so Than could see the large roll of paper spread out across the ground.

Already it was filled with multicoloured smears and a few handprints, some footprints too, a cacophony of shape and colour. There were a few in different palettes hanging and drying on the back wall in the sun.

“You see, little Teddy’s going to be my new collaborator!” Zag spread his arms grandly over their work, “She starts them off and she can use whatever she feels like, just really moves with the energy of it all, y’know? Then I come in and tie it all together! She’s a phenomenal abstract artist!”

Than looked over the paintings they’d made together. Part of why he was such a good art dealer and such a good agent for Zagreus was that he found more to love in his work than anyone and he was good at making others see it too as he sold it to them. His love for the man spilled into the art, in the shapes and colours and textures he saw the person he’d loved since he was a kid. It was like Zag’s art spoke a language Thanatos was fluent in.

And looking at this art, the art Zag and their daughter had made together, it took his breath away. It was familiar and it was new all at once, it was bright and joyful as the two of them clashed and flowed together in the paint. If he looked long enough he could start to see what was Theo simply having fun splashing around in the colourful stuff she saw her daddy getting to play with all day and what was Zag fondly stitching her marks into something cohesive, something musical and formed.

And in it Thanatos could see his family. He could see noise.

“What do you think?” Zag’s eager smile had started to dim, his eyes getting a little anxious as he searched his husband’s face, tumbling into a nervous ramble, “I will clean her up, I promise, I put her in clothes she doesn’t love love, y’know? I will get the stains out, I swear and I can wash your shirt too if you want? I’ll use the special stuff that works really good, I mean, you might have to show me how but if there’s instructions I’ll just read those...”

Than took a step closer, careful not to damage the painting, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. As it always did, the touch alone was enough to calm Zag, his nervous stumbling coming to a stop, turning into a self conscious smile.

“Zag, it’s beautiful,” Than murmured gently, moving the hand to brush his cheek affectionately. Fortunately, Theo didn’t deem this unacceptably gross, just pressing her face to Than’s neck and nuzzling contentedly, “It’s really, really beautiful.”

Zag beamed, tilting his head hopefully, “Beautiful enough that you wanna help us make another one?”

Than smiled back, already maneuvering Theo so he could shrug out of his work jacket and let it fall to the floor, Theo giggling and squirming with excitement as she helped him push his sleeves up.

“Well, I’m not a phenomenal abstract artist like you two but it does look like fun…”

The works from this new series would go across the country, thanks to Thanatos. He really was a good agent.

They didn’t sell them, Zag didn’t want them to be sold for money after the initial exhibition. Instead they were donated to art schools and children’s hospital wards and after school clubs. But the one that all three of them had done together, the one with the two sets of bigger handprints in varying shades of red and purple and the flurry of tinier ones, the smudges and smears and bright splashes of eye watering colour, that one stayed firmly where it belonged, hanging in their living room. Over time they would take it down and add to it, especially when they had two more sets of tiny handprints to add to it.

And around it, their house would never, ever be quiet.

#hades #thanzag #artist au #modern au #just some cute #for a real wonderful lady who I love a lot #happy birthday!!

[dadsbongos]

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right? 

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant. 

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it. 

Hi 

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda. 

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks 

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.” 

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

~~

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him. 

That would be heaven.

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #anon chatter :) #x reader #oh to have a polite nagito ghost you can pull out chairs for and look up his tragic backstory