#Alice is a very kind woman. a little troubled too

[skeletoninthemelonland]

This was supposed to be posted yesterday for Women’s International Day :’D sorry I don’t know how to draw bed sheets 😭

#springdad au #fnaf #I LOVE WOMEN #my art #if you see me making art of characters i haven't explicitly talked about- #this means i'm not entirely sure of who they are yet #Alice is a very kind woman. a little troubled too #she's trying very hard both as a person and as a mother #she thinks she's not doing enough tho #life has always been rough and she's never got to rest until she stopped working as a performer and found Elizabeth #she believes she's made poor decisions as a teenager and swore not to let herself be manipulated or influenced by others #that's why she is very suspicious of Springdad at first... #she just needs some time for herself that's all #I like to think she received support from her family and found a new. much better job #anyway so. this is her :]

[apricia]

For ever by your side/ Aemond Targaryen x reader

Prolog: Alyssa Targaryen - Second of her name

King's Landing was in a celebratory mood. People celebrated Princess Helaena Targaryen's first name day. The little princess was barely aware of the celebrations held in her honor. Slept peacefully in the care of her governess. A big tournament drew all the lords, ladies and knights to the capital. While King Viserys, his Lord Hand, and the small council enjoyed the brutal games, Queen Alicent rubbed her plump belly. Her daughter's first birthday was just celebrated and she was already carrying her third child under her heart. She knew it would be a boy. Felt it in her heart. Another son for the king. Another descendant of Valyria. Silver hair, purple eyes. Alicent had wished that at least one child would not have these traits, but she knew that Valyrian blood was strong and at least her loyalty to the king would never be questioned. She was a loyal wife, a good queen. Just like her father asked of her. And so she once again carried a child of the king. It would only be a few months, if even weeks, until the birth. Not an event she was looking forward to. She remembered too much the pain of her last delivery. Squeezing Helaena out of her body had been excruciating, not nearly as easy as Aegon's, if childbirth could even be called easy. Alicent flinched when she was kicked in the ribs just as one of the opponents was knocked off his horse. A little fighter was growing inside her, she was sure of that. "Your Grace, I hate to interrupt the celebrations in honor of the Princess, but there is one matter that you must attend to. It cannot be postponed." Ser Harrold Westerling appeared next to the royal couple and although his voice was low, Alicent understood every word. What troubled her was the deep furrows on the Lord Commander's forehead. "What's so important, Ser Harrold, that it can't wait until after the tournament?" Viserys asked, frowning at his follower. "A woman has appeared in the keep, demanding an talk with you, Your Majesty." Alicent pricked up her ears at the word woman. She gritted her teeth and looked at her husband. Viserys was loyal to her, she knew that. Although he wasn't the husband she would have chosen for herself, she couldn't deny that he was good to her. Loving, decent and kind. He took no other women into his bed. No, he wasn't in the least like his brother Daemon, who hated his own wife and shared a bed with every whore in Fleabottom. A tight smile appeared on her face. No, thank the gods the king wasn't like that. "What woman?" Viserys demanded, and Alicent found him glancing sideways at her. Ser Harrold cleared his throat and his cheeks suddenly blushed with embarrassment. "She is a whore, Your Majesty, but she says the matters she has to discuss with you are important." Alicent struggled to her feet and rubbed her stomach. The little warrior in her had stopped kicking, as if he, too, would hold his breath and want to know what important matter it was that demanded the king's attention on his daughter's nameday. "Husband, it seems to me that the matter is urgent, we should deal with it immediately," Alicent smiled at Viserys. She knew perfectly well that Ser Harrold had only wanted to speak to the king, but something told Alicent that she needed to meet this woman. This whore who considered herself important enough to demand an audience with the king and whom the guards let into the keep instead of publicly flogging her and sending her back to the whore house she came from. "My dear, you don't have to come. Enjoy the tournament, I can take care of it myself." "No, a little walk is good for me. Your son is very active today." To emphasize her words, she rubbed her bulging stomach with a smile. Not long now and she would be holding her third child in her arms. Viserys nodded and offered her his arm. The carriage ride into the keep didn't take long, but Alicent certainly hadn't been prepared for what awaited she there. In the great hall stood a woman, beautiful, dark hair, dark eyes, and her skin was sunkissed. She looked too elegant for an ordinary whore, was dressed too finely and her posture too self-confident.

"What's the meaning of this?" Viserys demanded, helping Alicent down the few steps in the throneroom. "Your Majesties," the woman said in a musical voice that made Alicent squint. The woman held a basket in her hands and from a distance the young queen saw that something was moving in it. "My name is Mysaria, Your Grace. I -" "You are friend of my brother's, I remember you." Viserys eyed the woman, then looked skeptically at the basket in her hands. "Still, I don't understand what you want here. For your last interactions with my brother, I could have had you killed." He looked at the Kingsguard and grimaced as if he wanted to lynch them for taking him away from the tournament for a whore who was consorting with his brother. "I know that and I am very grateful to you for showing mercy to me, my king. But the affairs with Prince Daemon at that time do not bring me here today. At least not entirely." "Then what brings you into the red keep?" Alicent now demanded to know. Her hand rested on the bulge of her stomach. She was glad to have left the children with their wet nurse. Aegon was three years old and far too wild to endure his curiosity and energy for any length of time. "I'm coming at the behest of a friend." The way she used the word friend let everyone in the room know that said friend was also in the industry as Mysaria. The woman put down the basket and took out the bundle inside. There was a scream and Alicent flinched. A child's cry echoed through the room and Alicent narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Whose child is this?" demanded Viserys, who seemed to be losing patience. "Your brother's." Alicent's eyes widened and she stared at the crying baby in the whore's arms. One look was enough to know that this child was of House Targaryen. Silvery white hair, purple eyes. Alicent let out a snort. They were brought here because Daemon got a whore pregnant? Was she serious? Alicent understood an important matter differently. But Viserys stepped forward and stopped just inches from Mysaria. His eyes on the child. "She is beautiful," said the king in awe. "She is, Your Majesty. But sadly motherless now. Which is why I'm here." Visery's eyes darted from the whore to the child in her arms and to Alicent, who was watching the situation suspiciously. "Motherless? What happened?" "Her mother died in childbirth last week, Your Grace. It's common for women like us to stick together and raise children that result from relationships with our clients, but this is different. She is different” said Mysaria, smiling down at the child as she said her last words. "What do you expect from the king?" Alicent asked unabashedly and stepped closer to the whore and her husband. "That he tracks down Daemon so he can take care of his bastard himself?" Mysaria shook her head. "Your brother is in town, I've already spoken to him. He doesn't want anything to do with the child - his only child, mind I say." Alicent nodded. She didn't think much of Daemon, never did. He was wild, moody and selfish. Didn't understand honor, duty and loyalty. "Daemon is here?" Viserys asked. Sorrow in his voice. "He was." Alicent said nothing about the fact that her brother-in-law had not even had the decency to appear before the king or at his niece's second nameday celebrations. Gods, how she despised this man. "And he rejected this enchanting being?" Viserys asked further. A smile appeared on the king's face and only then did Alicent realize that the child had stopped crying. Instead, it looked at Viserys. Alicent guessed the child would be a few months old, maybe three or four. Her husband grabbed the little creature and stroked his cheek. A chuckle was heard. "What do you intend to do, husband?" Alicent asked, putting a hand on Viserys' shoulder. She prayed that the king would force his brother to take the child. It would be a fair punishment for this lecher. Alicent would only be sorry for the child. Having Daemon Targaryen as a father was a shame. This man was a disgrace. He had already rejected his child without even meeting it. Viserys looked at Alicent, back at the baby. "Does she have a name?" he asked Mysaria. "Not yet, her mother hadn't given her one, she fell ill with a fever right after the birth and wasn't able to take care of the little one." Viserys nodded his understanding and then stretched out his arms. "May I?"

Without hesitation, she placed the child in the king's outstretched arms, who held it tightly to his chest. Alicent saw the smile on her husband's face. He was always in a good mood when it came to children, although Alicent wished he would bring that cheerfulness and warmth to her own children more often. The only person who she ever sah Viserys to bring such an loving expression was Rheanyra. As if she was his only child and Alicents children with him were worth nothing.  "Alyssa," came the king's voice. "Her name should be Alyssa and she should live here in the keep with us." His words were full of warmth, but at the same time there was a determination that made Alicent swallow. Alyssa had been his mother's name. A woman the king always spoke good things about. Of her beauty, her kindness and her strength. "You want to take the child in?" she asked her husband. He nodded. Alicent was expecting her third child, but she had no intention of raising another - a stranger, mind you. Especially not when it was the offspring of Daemon, who fathered it with a common whore. "Alicent, you may not understand, but it has always been my wish that my children and my brother's grow up together. As cousins, maybe more as siblings. I wanted our children to be close." Alicent understood her husband's wishes only too well. He always wished to be closer to his brother. To have a good relationship with him. But unfortunately that was not the case. Therefore, she could understand the wish that at least their children understood each other. Still, it wasn't what she wanted. "Unfortunately, by the late Lady Rhea, my brother had no children and I do not care who the mother of this little creature is. She is my niece and is now under my protection. I want her to stay here and grow up alongside my children. She will be an excellent playmate for Princess Helaena, don’t you think, my dear? Perhaps for our next child as well." Alicent put a hand on her stomach and felt another kick. As if the unborn in her agreed with his father's words, as if he wanted to keep Daemon's daughter as a comrade. Alicent nodded, knowing she couldn't change Viserys' mind. "Then let her stay." She stepped closer to her husband and looked at the little girl who was still smiling at her uncle. "Alyssa Waters," Alicent said, smiling. "No, my dear," contradicted the king. "Alyssa Targaryen, second of her name." Alicent's eyes widened. "Targaryen?" she asked, stunned. This kid was a bastard. She was the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and an unnamed whore! "Yes, Alyssa Targaryen," Viserys repeated his niece's name. "As king of the realm, I legitimize her. She's my brother's only child and I don't care about her origins. If she grows up here in the keep, alongside my children, then she'll be what she is: a Targaryen. And she's meant to be treated such are. From today, in her cradle, there will be a dragon egg by her side. Syrax laid two eggs. Our child will have one, and she shall have the other." And with that, the fate of this child changed from one second to the next. The daughter of a whore, insignificant and destitute, had become a princess, entitled to her father's inheritance, and future dragon rider in the blink of an eye. Alicent just looked at her husband without a word and shook her head almost imperceptibly. What was it about this baby that made her legitimate? Gave her a dragon egg? Was she that engaging? So special? Alicent strongly dared to doubt. But she would discover in time that Viserys wasn't the only Targaryen men who was immediately charmed by the child. Her unborn child, her second son, would follow his father's example.

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction

[shunnedmorlock]

Hi! What are your opinions on each of the greens ?

Have a good day/night!

Otto: I think he gets a bad rap, not in absolute terms but relatively to the people like Viserys and Daemon. If you hate Otto for pushing Alicent to marry Viserys, you should hate Viserys much, much more. Otto is "merely" complicit in what happened. There was no one Vissy could've said no to more effectively than Otto. It just goes to a double standard you see a lot with these farcical black-green debates where people change their opinions on whether it's ok to judge people by in-universe standards depending on what "team" they're a part of. He has a habit of telling unfortunate truths that get him in trouble, but most of the things he says are just, like, objectively true, but people don't want to hear it. Daemon is actually a danger to the realm and his brother, Rhaenyra does actually have to give the scions of great houses a hearing, Daemon did actually groom Rhaenyra to claim the throne, Alicent's children do pose an inherent threat to Rhaenyra by their mere existence.

From a Doylist perspective, like many other things, I think episode 9 really butchered Otto's character. All of a sudden the guy who has been working hand in hand with his daughter for the past few episodes didn't tell her about the plot to seat her son on the throne??? And now the guy who got fired by Aegon for being too slow and measured in his war planning is pushing to kill Rhaenyra immediately? And he wants to send the Kingsguard to do clandestine assassin work? And he's reluctant to ban child fighting pits for like no reason? I'm sorry, you don't have to be a feminist to not like that!

Alicent: I have talked about her at length. Nixonian Queen. I kneel. The war will make her worse, and I enjoy it. One of the characters I think on-balance the show improved.

Criston: Not a good guy by any means, but dismissing him as just a resentful incel is just boring. It's very clear he was, at best, conflicted about his tryst with Rhaenyra to begin with - he liked her, they had a lot of chemistry, but he does genuinely believe in his vows. The marriage thing is obviously silly and naive, but from his perspective it's him trying to do right by her (and also preserve himself and his soul), which puts him a step above many other Westerosi men who canonically often feel no obligations to the women they sleep with outside of marriage or the children created. There is a real difference in values between him and Rhaenyra that goes beyond him hating women, even if his values aren't strictly speaking good. I'm sorry, but the fact that a Westerosi man is as sexually repressed as an average Westerosi woman is genuinely a point in his favor! I sincerely hope he and Alicent make each other worse. Substantially improved by the show.

Aegon: This is going to be controversial, but baffling/over-the-top/ill-thought-out decisions like Dyana and the child fighting pits aside, I much prefer this version of Aegon to F&B. I don't care that he's kind of pathetic, that's fun, that's drama, that gives room for character development and growth into the king he ends up becoming. It's clear the writers do want Aegon to be kind of sympathetic, but it seems they didn't consider what stuff like Dyana would do to that, which to me indicates they meant the focus of that scene to be Alicent and her behavior, not Aegon. Which is stupid. One of the worse victims of inconsistent characterization, switching between vaguely sympathetic drunken frat bro to outright sex criminal every episode, or even in the same episode.

Helaena: I like what they've done with her. It's more interesting for her to be a doomed neurodivergent prophetess than just a little dumb, even though she hasn't done a ton so far. Similarly, in an RP I was a part of, Jaehaera was depicted as not simple, just autistic and it was much more interesting.

Aemond: BORING! Don't care about this guy, sorry. Maybe I'll like him more when he is pathetically down-bad for Alys Rivers, but right now he's just like budget Daemon to me, who I also find boring. He was more interesting as a bullied teen.

Larys: He's a tough guy to adapt because his motivations are kind of nonsensical behind a vague idea of getting back at Rhaenyra (?) for dishonoring his brother (??) by putting his children in line for the throne (???). The foot thing is kind of gross and I do wish they'd have given him an actual motivation but whatever. The actor's good and I do like him and Alicent on balance. Improved by the adaptation.

Tyland: We love our little bureaucrat don't we folks? Hope he gets more screen time later on.

Jasper Wylde: FUCK YOU SHOWRUNNERS WHY IS THE GUY WHO HAS HAD ONE LINE THIS ENTIRE SEASON PART OF THE COUP BUT NOT ALICENT FUCKING HIGHTOWER??????

#hotd #asoiaf #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aegon ii targaryen

[sirensea14]

HAHAHAHAHA MY AUUUUUUUUU

WHO'S YOUR ROMEO?

(dont mind the blurry letters above them, theyre descriptions of what they wear so i can visualize them--)

My Royalty au is originally called Julieta au (bcoz this is inspired of "Juliet" song by lipxlip which is the op song heroine run the show) and i switched it to 'medieval au' but doesn't suit it since Bendy's clothes doesn't match the era (and i have no plan on changing it cuz im too lazy WHAHAHAHA), so i changed it to Royalty Au, plus it involved kingdoms, knights, monsters, demons, angels, kings, queens, princes and princesses, magic etc. It was supposed to be a love triangle of us...

But then i added more characters

Here they are. And yes--MUGMAN HAS HAIR (ignore the arrows)

So here are their descriptions:

Cuphead the Ace - prince, prodigy knight of Calix Animi, foster father: king of Dish, King Kettle (or elder kettle behind the doors). He and mugs were found by Kettle when their house was raided by goblins, evil fae and elves bcoz of their potential magic powers. Kettle was a knight and king at the same time, he rescued them. Their parents are dead (not sure if it will be cannikin and demitasse from inky mystery) and so is the Queen, thats why Kettle vowed to protect people from monsters and is very serious abt it. He is the heir to the throne, his smaller twin brother is Mugman. Like King Kettle, he is also brutal towards monsters, he is 24 yrs old. He is infatuated to a woman who is queen of the oceans

Mugman the Beast Tamer - (beast tamer title is inspired by Cannikin) younger twin brother of The Ace, very close to king kettle, he has heart of gold, he has a girlfriend who lives by the sea, 24 yrs old

The Legendary Chalice - or Ms. Chalice is the general (or any rank called, she's a higher up) of the Calix Animi Knights. She was referred to as "Legendary" due to her skills and experience being so vast. She is 26 yrs old

Siren of the Sea - and that's me! (lol, cringe, ok lets do this in 3rd person pov) she is the isolated queen of the sea who rules every bit of seas and oceans. Seas sounds cooler that ocean right? And smaller too, so every kings and queens have underestimated her power. And also her looks, she prefers minimal jewelries and accessories, another reason for people to belittle her. Tho dont mess with her as she can get a little brutal when she gets angry. She likes the pacific ocean and atlantic ocean a lot. Specifically the Mariana trench, its full of monsters and leviathans down there. She had a stoned heart and always looked tired but she met 2 men who eventually softened her, tho she is torn between the Knight and the Demon, 25 yrs old physically, she was sitting on the throne lately, no one knew what her real age is

Cala Maria the Mergon (mermaid+ gorgon lol) - she is isolated as she is known to have gorgon blood. She was saved by a brave knight named Mugman so she gave him a metal ring with a chain holding a fish hook, she's happy seeing mugman wearing it. They had mutual feelings for each other. She knows Siren and is slightly afraid of her, tho she tries her best to befriend her. 26 yrs old

Alice Angel - sent from above, the princess of the Heavens and a healer. People always says that even tho she has horns. She has bright white wings which made her look more angelic aside from her beauty and kindness. She is vibrant yet calm and isnt shaken by Siren's cold attitude, instead, she always talks to her. Over time, siren seemed to respond to her. And thats when they began being friends. 25 yrs old, She is currently inlove with a wolf. And despite all her feminine traits, she won't hesitate to defend those in need when attacked, or help her friends who are troubled. She's a feisty Angel after all.

Boris the Wolf - a handyman who can do everything ; hunter, chef, play the clarinet, scavenger, messanger--anything u can think is something he can do. He is also a quick learner, thats why. He is close friends to a certain Demon and a lover to an Angel, 28 yrs old, he is calm and wise

(okay lemme explain this real quick--I ship Alice angel and boris, not based on Twisted alice and buddy boris, but rather on Tom Boris and Allison Angel. Theyre married in batim/batdr right? And theyre portrayed as Boris and Alice clones so i dont see why not--)

Bendy the Devil Darlin' or Bendy the Ink Demon - known as the Prince of Hell and next to the Throne, he has a playful yet dangerous attitude towards people, which made them fear him. They always obeyed his orders, and when something goes wrong well u might not like it. The only person who seemed to defy him was the Queen of the Seas, she perked his interest and somehow evolved into something demons cannot feel, love. He is 26 physically, but 257 chronologically, his race--Demons--has an ongoing cold war with the dishes

Holly the Sorceress - a character from inky mystery (i added her bcoz i love her so much), she is known as an archeologist, who continues to learn and discover the unknown. She loves playing with runes and runs a shop that sells potions, food and weapons that will help knights and adventurers alike. She's basically like a merchant famously known to play with dangerous runes. Enthusiastic, ambitious and curious, she is 23 yrs old (i aged her up a bit) and has a pearl necklace given to her by a mermaid friend, Cala Maria, when she helped her walk on land. She has her interest on Siren, a mysterious siren who acts cold. She visited her once to buy something, but she was busy playing with runes so she didn't get much hold of it, also she blabbers about how amazing runes and magic are despite her being a human. Whenever night strikes, she rides a broom and flies. She turns to a witch named 'Mayhem'. People say they were the same but some were defending Holly. Holly don't know about this either, so life continues. Little did she know that Mayhem is her Alter ego, she also has a magic cog from a mysterious machinery she has obtained during one of her digs (note: she only digs sites ALONE so this is her own discovery), tho it is very small.

(the Cog from inky mystery is inspired by the Gear in Batim/batdr, however in this au the ink machine does not exist--or might have been but crumbled to dust, anyways it does not serve something in the au)

Now the setting or place of it all? I dunno aesthetics but i like to imagine it as... Just ur usual generic medieval castle stuff, kingdoms. Also there are many kingdoms here, mainly:

Angels : hovering the sky

Demons: below(hell)

Dish : on land, apparently their land is huge and vast, but is surrounded by water

Sea monsters/leviathans: under the sea and oceans of course, full of corals

Normal humans (but they have access to magic) witch, wizards, animal toons etc : land, but separated from the Dish kingdom

For me, its hard to create kingdoms, but maybe i can get a sketch outta my head? That is if im in the mood

Some people of their races move or migrate to other kingdoms, for example, Holly moved to the Dish Kingdom.

I imagine this au to take place mainly on Dish Kingdom but i dunnoooo maybe it will be changed? Not sure

These are my thoughts abt it so far...

I may make some heavy art abt this (i mean, the FINISHED art and not a sketch one) tho im not sureeee since its hard to draw when ur using only a phone, and im drawing digitally using my thumb, but well i guess im gonna adjust myself, thank u for reading all this nonsense and make it up to the end. Ta-ta!

#my au stuff #my au art #royalty au #Just my fun #And i know its cringe as heck #inky mystery #inkymystery #babitim #bendy and boris in the inky mystery #holly may #cuphead #alice angel #mayhem #mugman #bendy #cala maria #Siren of the sea #ms chalice #the legendary chalice #sirensea

[fishandships]

last thing i gotta post for the evening cause i should have started getting ready for bed like 40 minutes ago BUT my bestie asked about a summary of the IDV longfic i’ve been working on since. January now. and it’s WAY too long for Discord so im just gonna. tuck it under a readmore here. and anyone who is interested is welcome to take a peek. i do plan on trying to post at least bits and pieces of what i have finished if not the entire longfic, eventually, but for now here’s a synopsis (that hopefully still makes sense to anyone unfamiliar with IDV)

SO its kind of a “i can love him so much it changes the course of his entire narrative” fix it fic that starts as a partial rewrite of some canon and devolves into its own thing based on my interpretation of what little canon info we have and also whatever i want lmao.

it begins with my si, Rosario, receiving an invitation to the Manor, where they replace a canon character in a canon Game. this Game involves Luchino (pre-transformation, he was originally a Survivor) as well as a Seer named Eli, who in canon was aware of what was going to happen but apparently didn’t stop it. in canon, another participant (a woman named Fiona) is sacrificed to summon an unknown eldritch god. in my version, Eli decides to take matters into his own hands. he’s seen the “canon version”, and when he arrives at the Manor and meets Rosario he sees a different version that occurs because of their presence, which he considers preferable to the previous vision and decides to do everything in his power to make sure that THIS is what actually occurs. 

Rosario is very blissfully unaware of Eli’s plans or the true nature of the Game, or really anything other than their newfound romance with the equally oblivious and smitten Professor Diruse. they’ve both fully gone love-at-first-sight, completely smitten, and plan to get together (PROPERLY, this is the Victorian Era after all) after the Game, which Rosario wants to help Luchino win. they believe he’s sick, not knowing what’s happening to him (he doesn’t really know either but views the early stages of transformation as a new step on the path of human evolution - tl;dr, he was given a mysterious reptile specimen and has been injecting its venom directly into his own bloodstream to observe its effects on the human body. for science.) At one point the side effects (ie his bones growing at an alarming rate) start causing him immense pain, so Rosario ventures into the adjacent and forbidden forest to hunt down an herbal cure. They find an escaped dog with its broken chain caught up on a fallen log, and they help it, not knowing that in doing so they have also saved their own life as they were currently being hunted. In exchange for their kindness to his dog, the Hunter spares their life and very forcibly escorts them from the forest. Unbeknownst to any involved, this is observed both by Eli and another Hunter, the Nightmare (Orpheus). Rosario returns to the Manor and tells Luchino what happened. That night, Rosario finds a journal in their quarters that definitely was not there before. Upon reading it, they parse that it was written by the Hunter who they met earlier in the forest - the Manor’s Gamekeeper, Bane. 

Some time later, Bane secretly visits the Manor. Rosario had made an impression on him and he doesn’t want to see them harmed in the Game. He finds them interacting with a crow, which he suspects to be Orpheus or controlled by Orpheus, and he warns them not to trust the crows but does not yet tell them what the Game really is. Rosario tells Bane that they’d found his journal, and Bane suspects that Orpheus, on behalf of the Manor’s owner (i’m operating on the assumption that this person is actually Alice aka Eurydice, and if i end up being wrong then this is an AU where Alice is the Manor owner so there), intends to turn Rosario into a Hunter.  The idea troubles Bane so much that the night before the Game is scheduled to begin, he visits them to tell them everything about the Manor and the real nature of its Games, wherein Survivors are driven to insanity and hunted to the death by powerful monstrous beings. Rosario immediately tells the other Survivors in their group, and Eli asserts that he has a plan. He outlines a strategy that sounds viable to his fellow Survivors, which the others reluctantly agree to in lieu of any other option. 

What Eli doesn’t share is that he has foreseen the identity of the Hunter, and this remains unchanged from the “canon timeline”. The Hunter will appear when the sacrifice is made, as the Manor owner intends. This Hunter will be Hastur, an eldritch God of Knowledge. Eli’s intention in his sacrifice swap plan is to offer Hastur “the anomaly”, sparing Fiona and giving Him a pawn to counter that of His opponent, the Dream Witch. Her own choice of pawn went awry when the intended target was not bitten the dragon She sent, but instead gave it to his friend who happened to be a Professor of herpetology. Eli knows this, as well as the fact that the Dream Witch intends to play her hand regardless, and as a follower of Hastur he seeks to level the playing field. (In canon, when Fiona was sacrificed, Hastur was apparently disinterested.)

When the Game begins, Eli isolates Rosario and sacrifices them to Hastur via the traditional method of drowning. Meanwhile, the Dream Witch triggers Luchino’s final transformation into the Evil Reptilian (i would like to point out that canonically he has never harmed another person other than himself insofar as we know of so i have no idea why the “Evil” title). The Manor interferes, ending the Game preemptively. It appears that Eli’s plan works, with Luchino and Rosario being the only “casualties” in this version and the other four Survivors safe, but what Eli could not have foreseen is also the reason this alternate version of reality was able to happen - the Manor exists outside of regular time, and they’re all trapped in something of a time loop or timewarp zone of some kind (again, my theory but if im wrong then AU where this is the case).

Bane “coincidentally” finds Rosario, now “reborn” as the Druid thanks to Hastur, and tries to protect them from being taken back to the Manor, but Nightmare finds them both and brings them in anyway. There Rosario is reunited with Luchino. Initially he thinks they will cut ties with him because of what he sees as continued advances in his research, as others have in the past (my mans has hella abandonment issues), but Rosario is mostly just happy to see him alive. 

From here i pretty much have completely free rein, since Magic AND Drugs are involved and everyone in canon is pretty much in permanent time flux and any combination of characters can meet at any point, so i’m going with AU where all the Survivors live in the Manor and the Hunters live in the sublevels and Games occur with setups according to the whim of the owner where they might find themselves in either role again (bc i want Survivor Rosario to be able to interact with Survivors outside their own Game). the continuation of the Main Plot tho is that certain Hunters AND Survivors (ie the ones i care about lmao) are comparing notes and working together to unravel the whole mystery behind the purpose of all this and find the identity of the Manor’s owner for a variety of motivations. everything hinges on Orpheus not knowing he is the Nightmare but also both Orpheus and Nightmare being motivated by the owner of the manor and acting as her puppet because they believe their “daughter”’s life is at stake (my deduction is that the “daughter” is actually Alice in childhood memory but neither Orpheus nor Nightmare understand this due to decades of brainwashing). so the End Goal is for EVERYONE (at least everyone i care about, a couple of them can choke), including Orpheus, to be rescued. /jazz hands

#my writing #SORT OF #this is such an informal mess but #like i said /jazz hands #otp: amor fati #otp: so deer to my heart #rosario killick #the naturalist

[juletheghoul]

Dulcis (Part I)

This is my formal submission to The Pit™️ (so much filth)

This is going to be a two part series! It doesn't end here

(I know this might not be everyone's cup of tea since it is about infidelity. Reader is engaged and David is married. Please feel free to skip this if that doesn't interest you!)

Dave (Murder Daddy) York x F!Reader

Pairing: David York x F!Reader

Word Count: 12K (are we even surprised at this point)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** NSFW 18+ INFIDELITY! (reader is engaged, David is married) language, Smut, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, **daddy kink** oral (m receiving / mentions of female receiving) vaginal fingering (in a public space), praise & aftercare, guilt?- let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist Part 2

---

“Alright who’s up first?” They all looked away from you, they always do this when they have to present their projects. It’s understandable, you could remember doing it when you were in school.

“If no one volunteers I’ll have to pick someone.” You smiled sympathetically. You saw a couple of your braver students raise their hands. Once the first student went the others saw that like always- it wasn’t so bad.

You managed to get through all of them before lunch which, as a second grade teacher, was a miracle.

They were a little rowdy during the lunch hour but that was to be expected. You used the much needed break to gather your things for the math work that had to be done after recess.

You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you checked your messages- there were two from your fiancé Charlie.

Can’t we just elope?

Hi by the way

You could have killed him, you sighed, smiling as you quickly responded to him.

No, hi! Don’t make me say I told you so while I’m at work, I take it your hunt for the tux isn’t going so well?

You had suggested eloping right when he’d proposed, a big wedding wasn’t something you needed. A trip to the courthouse and a nice dinner after would have been just fine with you.

It’s bullshit, lol I fucking hate shopping - I’ll figure it out, have a great day at work, love you xo

You quickly put your phone away at the commotion in class.

Two of the kids were arguing, it was getting intense and you had no idea what caused it.

“Okay you two settle down, finish your lunch - recess-“

One of the students suddenly punched the other square in the face. It was a practised, precise thing and it shocked you.

“Alice! We do not hit.” You didn’t yell it but you used a tone that silenced all the children. You quickly made your way over to them, Jacob was bleeding from the nose and you called the school nurse to come get him. Calling the principal after to let her know what happened.

“Alice, you’re staying inside during recess with me, that was unacceptable. I’m going to have to call your parents. You know we don’t fix things by fighting.” You spoke to her in a neutral tone, trying to keep the anger out.

“But he-“ you cut her off.

“No, none of that. We’ll discuss this with your parents.” You didn’t want to hear it, you looked through your desk for the contact sheet to call while the kids played outside. She sat at her desk quietly, watching you through sad eyes.

“Hi, I’m looking for David York? I’m Alice York’s teacher and I need to speak to him please.” The receptionist sounded wary, she asked for your name and the name of the school and you provided the information. You waited for him to pick up but the receptionist came back and informed you that Mr. York was currently away from his desk but that she would leave a message. Hopefully Mrs York would pick him.

“Hi is this Carol York? Hello Mrs York, yes I’m calling about Alice? Yes that’s right, no she’s fine there’s no emergency but I do have to ask you and your husband to come in for a meeting with me tonight. Well there’s been an incident…” You explained what happened and she was very apologetic, agreeing to come to see you right after work.

You quickly texted Charlie to let him know you’d be late.

******

Alice didn’t give you any more trouble for the rest of the day, Jacob had a bit of a bloody nose but overall he was okay.

The day went smoothly and as all of the children went home you had Alice sit and colour while you both waited for her parents. You didn’t have to wait long.

Your head lifted at the soft knock at your door, you saw an apologetic looking woman and her very bored looking husband.

“Hello, we’re so sorry! I’m Carol and this is my husband David, Alice come here and explain yourself.” She walked over to your desk to shake your hand. David followed reluctantly.

“What happened kiddo?” He asked her as she approached.

“Jacob took my notebook and wouldn’t give it back.” She looked at her mother ashamed.

“We don’t hit you know that! I’m so sorry about this - we’ll have a talk with her when we get home.” She sat at the chairs you gestured to - you noticed David’s face as Alice spoke. A sly smile, quickly wiped away to look stern. Was he proud of her?

You agreed with the need to stick up for yourself but taking a notebook was hardly a reason for two second graders to resort to a brawl. He saw you looking at him and he nodded sagely.

“We’re very sorry about this.” He wasn’t sorry.

You took him in as Carol spoke to Alice in hushed tones on her lap, he was an imposing man, tall and broad. He wore a suit and for all the world looked like a professional but there was something about him that made you blush. You had the vague sense that he was undressing you with his eyes and it made your heart race. He was very handsome, but in a sinister way.

“Never again right Alice?” You spoke to her before turning your attention to her parents. “She’ll have detention for the next two days, no recess, but I won’t keep her after school.” You spoke as neutrally as you could with Mr York's eyes boring into you. You could almost feel them burning you.

“Yes of course, that’s not a problem. We will talk about this when we get home, young lady.” Carol spoke half to you and half to her daughter. David continued to stare.

You were thankful this would be it and were just getting ready to guide them to the door when he spoke.

“How are her grades otherwise? Is she doing well?” He said it in a low tone.

You could learn to crave that voice.

Get a fucking grip

“They’re good, she’s a great student otherwise, got an A on her book report today. Just have to remember to keep our hands to ourselves right?” You smiled warmly at her, doing your best to not look him in the eye.

“That’s great to hear, thank you so much for reaching out - please feel free to contact me for anything.” Carol started gathering Alice’s things.

David continued to stare at you, you saw him boldly look you up and down as you walked around your desk to see them out. Carol was too busy getting Alice into her jacket to see him.

He looked at you like she wasn’t even there.

He smirked as he swiped his thumb across his bottom lip, his gaze focused on the length of your dress. Your eyes widened at the nerve of him, absolutely no regard for his wife or his daughter.

He was devouring you with his eyes and you did absolutely nothing to stop him. You flushed - whether from disgust or excitement you’d never know but it did not deter him. He clapped his hands together and thanked you for your time.

Your heart hammering even after they’d left.

**********

The music was blaring when you walked through the door to your little apartment. You could hear Charlie singing along as he pulled something that smelled absolutely divine out of the oven.

“Hey babe! I made dinner, I got home a bit early.” He kissed you hello as he put the lasagne on the table.

“Oh god that smells good.” You smiled as you all but dropped everything to sit and eat with him.

You both discussed how your respective days had gone, about what you both had to do and like almost every conversation you’d had during the past seven months- it ended up on the wedding. If you were honest the whole thing was starting to grate on your nerves.

You’d always known the two of you were going to get married. From the first time you saw him, he was so handsome and sweet and he seemed to live his life in order to make you happy. The wedding however, it seemed all wrong. The both of you were simple, you were the kind of people who didn’t make a big fuss.

This wedding was a big fuss.

“My mom says she’s paying for the flowers, I insisted that it wasn’t necessary, that it didn’t matter but she pushed- and you know my sister wants to help with something.” Charlie was notoriously easy going so you took his ‘insisting’ with a grain of salt.

“Your family would pay for the whole wedding if we let them.” You prodded gently, his family seemed to want this wedding more than you did. It was overwhelming.

“They just want grandchildren, they think the faster we get married the faster I’ll get you pregnant.” He laughed, you’d talked about children before and you both wanted them but you’d decided to wait a little bit. You both wanted to enjoy married life.

-

While showering after having cleaned up, your mind curiously wanders to a place you didn’t expect.

You were thinking about Mr York. You didn’t even really know why - yes he was handsome but it was more than that. He was intriguing, he seemed dangerous somehow.

That was surprising, why should he be dangerous? Charlie pulled back the curtain pulling you sharply out of your reverie, and scaring you half to death.

“Sorry!” He laughed as he got in with you. You felt guilty, like you’d been caught but he mistook your guilty look for fear.

“You scared the fuck out of me!” You tried to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest as you stepped into the water, rinsing the shampoo out of your hair.

You felt Charlie’s hands circle your waist as he laughed.

“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to.” He kissed your shoulder as he joined you under the hot spray, his hands roaming over the soft skin of your belly. They slipped over your soapy skin, up towards your breasts. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his fingers as they pinched and plucked at your nipples the way he knew you liked.

He continued with his exploration, running one hand down under it, spreading your folds and honing in on your clit. Gliding over it over and over until you were panting, the other hand still on your breast. You closed your eyes as you leaned your head back onto his shoulder - your hands finding themselves in his hair.

“Faster- please” You were almost there, it was so good and the thought came to you out of nowhere. You imagine for a split second that it was Mr York in the shower with you instead of your fiancé. His fingers between your legs, his cock rubbing up against your ass and you came harder than you had any right to. Your fingers clutching at Charlie’s hair almost painfully tight.

He kissed your shoulder and turned you around to kiss you on the mouth to take it further but the guilt wouldn’t let you. You needed a few minutes to get your shit together.

“Babe, let’s wait until we’re in bed- I’m not really feeling shower sex right now.” You kissed him softly and pulled away.

“Okay honey.” He smiled at you, complacent even though his dick was hard and leaking precum, weirdly this annoyed you.

Charlie was a sexual guy, he enjoyed it. That you knew, and you couldn’t exactly complain about your sex life. He was attentive and he did his best to make you cum, he took direction well and you had no complaints about his size.

The problem was, Charlie was vanilla.

Sex was three positions if that and he barely talked at all. You had tried to get him to be a little more open and adventurous but he always reverted to his regular routine. Most of the time it was fine, you both got off and you loved him.

Sometimes however, you wanted more. You wanted excitement, you wanted passion. You wanted filth.

Charlie was sweet. You could live with sweet.

He was snoring beside you peacefully, he’d coaxed another orgasm out of you once you both got into bed. The guilt kept you awake though, because you’d imagined Mr York the whole time.

————————-

“I need all of the information you can find on this woman.” David gave your name to his contact, he had to know.

He asked Alice a few probing questions but didn’t want to push it. He didn’t need her telling her mother offhandedly that he’d been curious about you.

He had your name and place of employment, for his line of work - that was more than enough. You were a pretty thing and he was intrigued. He knew you’d seen him, he’d made sure of it. He’d also noticed you looking at him, as much as you tried not to. Saw the gorgeous flush creep it’s way up your neck when he stared at your legs.

He had to get close to you, see if his instincts were right.

He had a full report on you within the hour, he saw that you’d been teaching for about five years. That you were a few years younger than him, engaged, parents on the other side of the country, decent credit score.

All he had to figure out now was how to make his move.

————————

“Remember to show your parents your agendas! We have a trip coming up and I need everyone’s parents or guardians to sign the forms I put in them. Please do not forget. Have a great day and I’ll see you tomorrow.” The kids were frantically packing away their things as the bell wrung, you still watched them as you packed up your things. You had to remember to ask for volunteers in their agendas tomorrow- maybe you could call a few of the more friendlier parents.

A knock at the door made you jump what felt like a foot off the ground. Turning around and seeing who was there did absolutely nothing to calm you down.

“Mr York, what can I do for you?” You tried to speak as calmly as possible. Willing yourself to sound natural and nonchalant.

He walked over to you and it vaguely felt like you were being hunted. His quiet made you uneasy and your anxiety pushed you to fill the empty air with conversation.

“Everything okay with Mrs York? I hope Alice isn’t still in trouble?” He was in your personal space and it was difficult to breathe. He was so big, so tall, his eyes impossibly bright with what looked like mischief.

Never in all your time together has Charlie ever looked at you with this kind of intensity.

Annoyingly, it made you wet.

“They’re fine.” He licked his lips as he stared down at you, the bottom one was full and you had the wild urge to bite it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

You kept backing away from him slowly and he kept pressing forward, you didn’t know what to do or what he wanted but he was overwhelming you.

“I know you saw me looking at you.” He watched your mouth as he spoke and you felt like you couldn’t get your thoughts in order.

“I - I’m engaged…” You blurted it out but either he didn’t register or he didn’t care.

“And I’m married.” He got a little closer, there was a crackling of electricity between the two of you and the tingle of it seemed to be focused on your nipples and your clit. He brought his hand up and traced his thumb over your bottom lip boldly and the act shocked you into complacency, it grounded you on the spot. He saw the shock and excitement in your eyes and he probed a bit to see how far you would go.

“I thought about you. When I fucked her.”

You short circuited, your brain was a puddle and your cunt clenched. You involuntarily let out a gasp at his confession and it brought to mind the thoughts you’d had while with Charlie. You were dripping into your panties.

He pushed his thumb into your mouth a fraction and it was like a damn broke, without even knowing why or stopping to consider the consequences you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked. Hollowing out your cheeks prettily.

He groaned, bringing his thumb back out and spreading your saliva onto your lips.

He came close and you prepared yourself for a kiss but he licked your top lip, so fast you would have missed it. You gasped and he let go. Walking out the door as you caught your breath.

—————

The shame followed you like a shadow, it surrounded you as you drove home in silence.

Charlie’s face haunting you as you felt your arousal soaking your panties. You tried to justify the unjustifiable as you pulled into the parking garage of your building, telling yourself that it was a weird hallucination. You hadn’t actually sucked this man's thumb at the school like a whore. No.

Charlie was sitting on the couch going over the seating arrangement when you walked in. You dropped all of your things and walked over to him, you needed to rewrite your excitement somehow. Transfer it onto Charlie.

“Hey babe-“ you cut him off by plopping down onto his lap, and kissing him silent. He was momentarily stunned but he dropped everything and held onto you.

“You okay?” He asked smiling as he pulled away, you didn’t answer, you hastily pulled up his shirt - trying to get him to join you in your urgency.

“I want you, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me and I want to ride your cock, right here on the couch.” You lied into his ear, poisoned honey dripping from your mouth. You heard him gasp and felt him hardening beneath you.

“Jesus Christ…” Charlie wasn’t much of a dirty talk kind of guy, you wanted him to be but he always said it felt awkward. You usually didn’t push it but today Mr York’s words were branded into your brain.

“My pussy is so wet for you baby.” Another lie, but never mind that.

He groaned but didn’t say anything and it was frustrating, you needed the release however and you let it pass. You imagined Mr York saying some truly filthy things in your ear and it made you feel guilty but you couldn’t help yourself.

He let you work out your excitement and after you both hit your peak you got up and headed for the bedroom. You saw him sitting on the couch, half naked and blissed out as you walked away.

You prodded him gently when you were curled up in bed.

“Charlie, did you like what we did today? On the couch?” You wanted to ease into it.

“Yes, we’ve had sex on the couch before, I always enjoy it with you.” He kissed your forehead.

“Did you like the things I said?” You drew little patterns on his chest as you laid in the dark.

“They were pretty intense, I didn’t not like them?” You could almost feel him blushing, you tried hard not to sigh. You were going to spend the rest of your lives together there was no need to be shy.

“Why don’t you ever talk to me like that when we fuck?” You could feel him trying to retreat but you didn’t want to let him. “There’s no need to be shy around me, we’re going to get married, we should be open.” He wasn’t having any of it.

“I don’t know honey you know I get awkward, just not something I’m comfortable with I guess.”

“Maybe we could get some books or take a class or something? So many different things we could try and I want to try them with you.” You were trying to open him up, you didn’t want to imagine a life of predictable repetitive sex - no matter how much you loved him.

“Maybe, let’s revisit it again at some point. Goodnight honey.” He kissed your forehead again and turned so you were spooning him. You tried to be understanding, you tried to think about respecting his boundaries but all you came up with was Mr York’s thumb in your mouth.

———————————-

“David- David!” His head snapped back to the sound. Carol was standing in front of him with an exasperated look on her face.

“David what is going on? I’ve been calling you for the last ten minutes.” He was thinking of you.

“Sorry honey, my head is still at work. What's going on?” He gave her his most convincing smile and she shook her head, amused.

“Dinners ready, the girls want to tell you about their day. Come on, I made your favourite.” She smiled sweetly as she left his home office. The smile disappeared as fast as it’d been conjured.

---

“How was school today girls?” He couldn’t ask about you outright, had to dance around it.

“It was good, learning about the solar system.” His eldest, Molly. He smiled and asked her how she liked it, she talked about it excitedly and he enjoyed her enthusiasm.

“What about you Alice, how was school today?” His youngest was shy, but he could see his personality in her. A little more intense, a little more reserved.

“Good, we have a field trip next week.” There it is.

“That sounds nice, where are you going?” A field trip - this could do nicely.

“Museum, I have the form in my bag. I need you to sign it.” So many shadowy corners in a museum.

“Go get the form sweetheart, I don’t want to forget.” Carol prompted her.

She came back with it a few minutes later and David held it in his hands. He saw a little note on the form that made him smile despite himself.

Chaperones are always needed - please call to volunteer.

“What do you think about me volunteering for this? I could take a day and it would be nice to take some interest.” He took her hand in his and smiled warmly, looking for all the world to be a devoted father.

“Honey, that's a great idea. I’ll call tomorrow and let them know.” She was happy, and David was happy.

----

The night before a school trip always made you nervous. So many variables - it was hard enough to control a class full of seven and eight year olds in a classroom let alone in a museum. At least a couple of parents had volunteered, you saw Mrs York on the form and it made your heart skip. You imagined she’d be able to see every thought you’d had about her husband on your face.

You fell asleep thinking about him.

---

“Okay kids, let’s settle down. The bus will be here soon and I need to make sure everyone has their buddies. What’s the rule?” You asked over the excited din.

“Stay with your buddy!” They all said it in unison.

“Exactly! Now we will be there all day, we have a lot to see, you can leave your backpacks here. We’re going to have lunch there and we’ll be back in time for those of you who take the bus home. You can have a little free time while we wait for the buses.” They instantly grouped together to chat excitedly while you made sure you had everything in order. There were a couple of parents and you gave them wristbands to put on the children.

“Sorry I’m a few minutes late.” Mr York was walking into your classroom in casual clothes. What the hell was he doing here?

“Hello Mr York, you’re right on time. Where’s Mrs York? I thought she had volunteered?” You tried to ask the question neutrally but he could see the panic in your eyes.

“It was always me, whoever took her phone call must have made a mistake.” He spoke gently but it did something to you. You felt his eyes roaming your body and you flushed.

Great, this is going to be just great.

You did your best to centre your breathing while you led the children down the hall and to the buses. You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way down the hall. You did your best to ignore it.

The students lined up in front of the bus in pairs and you quickly went over the rules again - making sure to look at the three parents who were going with you. You noticed David talking to Alice, telling her to behave today and that he’d be helping you take care of the class.

Two of the parents got in first to sit at the back, Mr York waited until you got on, you were trying to focus but you couldn’t. You could feel him standing close to you and you were beginning to sweat.

You meant to sit alone but he followed closely behind you and pushed his way to the same seat as you. He took up so much space and you didn’t want to make a big fuss in front of the kids.

The bus driver closed the door and you were on your way. It would be about forty-five minutes to an hour until you got there and it hit you then how absolutely fucked you were.

The kids were excited and chatty and the din of them talking and laughing drowned out everything. You decided to focus your attention on the window and the scenery. You did not want to focus on Mr York. He was having none of it though.

“I like your dress.” He spoke into your ear and you shivered.

“Look Mr York-“

“Call me David.” He looked down at your slight cleavage and you sighed angrily.

“Look David, I don’t know what it is you think is going on but I am engaged. I am engaged to be married and you are the married father of one of my students. I would appreciate it if you could keep your interactions with me strictly professional.” You whispered angrily, trying to sound serious. He smiled pleasantly at you as if you were old friends catching up.

“Is that what you would call sucking my thumb? Professional? It seemed like you wished it was something else you’d been sucking.” His words went directly to your cunt. You saw it then, him sitting with that amused look on his face as you kneeled in front of him, with his cock in your mouth like a good girl.

Charlie.

You were in love with and about to marry Charlie.

He saw the look on your face and he smiled-

“What’s your fiancé’s name?” How dare he?

“His name is Charlie and I love him.” Why did you feel the need to explain this to him?

“That may be true, but I get the feeling that Charlie doesn’t quite know how to fuck you. Or you wouldn’t be licking your lips at the thought of my cock in your mouth. Is that it baby? You haven’t been fucked properly? I can fix that.” His words had you dripping. Charlie had never spoken to you like this and it made you so angry to compare them right now.

You closed your eyes and let the words pass over you, you had to focus. You couldn’t let this admittedly handsome, intimidating man come into your life and lay waste. He took your silence as a sign that he was right.

You felt his fingers ghost over your thigh and you felt like you’d been struck by lightning. Your eyes shot to his hand and to your shame, you hoped for something forbidden. He watched you closely.

“I think about you all the time and something tells me that you think about me too. Think about what I could do or say to get you wet enough for me to glide right in. Have you ride my cock, have your tits bouncing in my face.” His hand gripped your thigh and you whimpered slightly, involuntarily angling your body towards him.

“He doesn’t know what you need.” He hand travelled up up up ghosting along your seam, just enough to drive you insane through your panties and you put your head onto his shoulder. He stopped then and took his hand away and you came back to reality.

The guilt hit you like a tsunami and you squeezed yourself closer to the window, trying for all the world to make yourself smaller, and in turn the distance between you bigger.

He smiled and sat quietly for the rest of the ride to the museum.

——————-

The relief you felt when the bus pulled in was astonishing and you had to hold yourself back from barreling over David to get away. You felt him chuckling as you struggled to get away and you held back the urge to slap him across the face by the grace of god.

“Okay class, let’s get together with our buddies and head over to our first exhibit. If you have any questions please feel free to ask our helpers or myself. What’s the rule?”

“Stick with your buddy!” They yelled it out again.

“Exactly, that means even if you have to use the restroom you go with your buddies. Please ask one of the parents or me before you go.” You were back in your element now and it felt better. You were back in teacher mode and you told yourself that you could do this.

The morning went by relatively smoothly, you had all of the children wrangled and you made your way through the exhibits without issue. You were thankful that David kept his distance from you, he helped the children and you saw him doting on his daughter.

You had decided to block out what happened on the bus. It never happened.

By noon the kids were getting feral, you guided everyone up to the cafeteria and had them sit so the adults could grab everyone their food in shifts. All in all it went pretty smoothly and you had managed to put the whole incident out of your mind.

You let one of the parents know that you were going to sneak away to use the bathroom while the kids were all in one place and she told you to take your time.

You can do this, you told yourself as you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

You were blindsided when you came out of the bathroom, a hand covering your mouth and pulling you away into a closed off exhibit. The panic shot through you like lightning and you tried to fight your attacker off - visions of Charlie flashed through your mind, of the wedding, of your family; your students. His voice didn’t calm you.

“Stop fighting, it’s just me.” His tone suggested that this should have calmed you. It did not.

It pissed you off and once you regained your composure and stopped squirming, he loosened his grip. It gave you the opening you needed and you slapped him across the face - or you would have, but his hand shot up cat-quick and grabbed your wrist before your hand could meet its target.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You were seething, the audacity of this man to put his hands on you. You were trying to hold the anger close- bringing it to the forefront of your mind so as to eclipse the excitement. That had no place here... right?

Why are you so fucking excited?

Why does it feel like you’ve never known this kind of excitement until now?

Get it the fuck together, think of Charlie.

“I am going to make you cum.” Those words were thrown out into the air like they meant nothing. Like it was simply a chore to be completed off a list.

He was getting closer. His movements brought to mind the wildlife documentaries that Charlie liked to watch, you could see the big jungle cat slowly stalking towards the gazelle. If you were home and watching this scene unfold on the screen, you would be yelling at yourself to run.

You couldn’t make your legs move, worse still - you didn’t really want to.

Instead you stood there, silent and unmoving. Waiting for the jungle cat to pounce on you, waiting for him to crush your neck with strong jaws and long claws.

Why were you so wet?

“I’m going to pull that short little dress up, and I’m going to make you cum with my fingers. Would you like that baby? You want me to make that little pussy cum?” He was in your space now, towering over you and you couldn’t look away. Your breath was coming hard at the filth pouring out of his mouth.

Charlie never spoke to you this way.

You felt the wall and you realised he’d been herding you, exactly where he wanted you. You looked up at him through your lashes- god he’s so tall, so broad - and his arms came up to rest on either side of your head, essentially caging you in. The heat was rolling off him, was it heat? Or was it your own excitement? You’d never be able to tell, all you knew for certain is that you were dripping. You were feral and you couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. He smiled as he leaned in close, his breath ghosting over your neck as he spoke right into your ear.

“Do you want me to? Do you want me to make you cum baby?” the low tone, the proximity, the wrongness of it. You would never admit it after but you nodded, almost imperceptibly. His smile for you then was genuine.

It felt like his hands were charged with electricity, those wands that they had at science centers that made your skin tingle. You felt it, as his fingers softly skimmed your thigh as they travelled up to your soaked center. He touched the damp spot on your panties and chuckled, then moved them aside swiftly to part your folds. You gasped when he glided his finger over your clit, over and over and over, the pressure far too light.

Your own hands found their way up to clutch at his shirt, you didn’t want to admit that you were holding him close to you. That you didn’t want him to pull away.

“Open up for me baby.” he bit at your ear as he lifted your leg to wrap around his hip, you were spread open for him while he wrapped his arm around your waist to grab at your ass. He was doing this to you during a school trip. This was a low you never thought you’d sink to.

“Just as I thought, look how wet you are - and how tight-” He slid two fingers into you and you moaned, they were thick and you were so turned on it hurt. “Don’t worry baby I’m going to take care of you, make you cum, fuck this tight pussy with my fingers - have to cum fast for me okay? We have to get back. Can you do that? Can you cum for me?” He was kissing your neck and licking your pulse point.

“Answer me, or I'll stop, be a good girl for me.” His fingers pulled out and you whimpered - grabbing at his forearm to pull it back because you needed to cum. He brought his fingers up to your mouth and you looked into his eyes as he rubbed your arousal onto your lips. Your knees almost gave out at the depravity of it, in public. While your students and the other parents waited for you. He was expecting an answer.

“Yes.” Your face was beet red and flushed and the word sealed your fate. He kissed you, rough and fast and it took your breath right out of your lungs. His tongue licked your slick off your lips and plundered your mouth while he fulfilled his promise. His fingers diving back into you, this time with the addition of his thumb on your clit.

You could vaguely hear the wet squelch of your cunt as he sped up. It was so good, it was everything and all you needed was a little push to finally leap into the abyss.

“Come on baby, you’re so fucking wet for me. I think you can take another finger.” The noises were obscene and the stretch was so good - he curled his fingers and touched something white hot and it made you cry out a little louder than you should have. His hand came up and clamped over your mouth and the filth came again. “There it is- that’s what you like right baby? Come on, cum for daddy.” You fell apart then. It was disgusting and you’d never cum this hard in your life.

You were vaguely aware of him fixing your clothes, of him licking every drop of your slick from his fingers.

You were blissed out as you walked back to the table on shaky legs, the guilt creeped in though as you slowly drifted back down to reality, you’d been gone for longer than you thought.

“Sorry about that - we got completely turned around, this place is a maze huh?” Dave spoke, quelling the annoyed looks from the other parents and smoothing it out with practised charm.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look anyone in the eye.

-----

It was hard to focus for the remainder of the trip. You could feel his eyes on you as you wound your way around the different exhibits.

The turmoil between your brain and your body threatened to drive you into madness - you could still feel him inside you and it caused your heart to race, to excite you. Your brain was scolding you. How could you let him do that to you?

Oh Charlie

——

The bus ride back to the school was a bit better, one of the other parents sat beside you and it was as if you could almost pretend that everything was normal. Or you would have been able to - had you not been able to feel David's eyes boring into the back of your head. It was a long ride home.

The school busses were waiting when you pulled into the school and you had to hurry to get your kids to your classroom to get their things. After you made sure they were okay and on the bus you went about getting ready to go home. There was a text from an unknown number in your phone - you didn’t have to guess who it was from.

Be a good girl, and free up a couple of hours for me this Sunday. I will come and get you.

You answered before you could even contemplate what it meant.

Okay.

You didn’t even bother wondering how he would know where to go.

--

You sat in your car, in one of the parking spaces you and Charlie had. You could see his car next to yours and you had no idea how the hell you were going to walk in there and pretend nothing had happened. How could you have done this, moreover how could you have agreed to see David again?

I’ll tell him it has to stop. Whatever it was that we did it was a horrible mistake.

Your heart was racing as you got off the elevator, every step down the hallway was another lump of stone settling in the pit of your stomach. Charlie was in the shower when you got home - you could hear the water running and all you could think of was how you were sure he’d be able to see what you did written on your face. Another stone.

“Hey babe, how was the trip?” he was all smiles and the accusatory pointed finger in your face never came. Instead he walked over to you and hugged you tightly, little beads of water dripping from his hair onto your shoulder.

“It was good, how was your day?” His voice lulled you, made you want to forget everything you’d done and it was easier trying to put the whole thing out of your mind than think about it in front of Charlie. It was a stupid mistake and it wasn’t even worth remembering. On Sunday it would be fixed. You were going to tell David to fuck off and then everything would go back to normal.

“It was good - I was thinking we could go out for dinner tonight. What do you think?” He was all smiles, all sweetness.

“Sure babe.” You tried to be happy. You tried to focus, but you could still feel the stretch of David’s fingers when you moved.

----

I’ll be there in an hour, wear something pretty for me.

The text came in and your heart started racing. You had told Charlie that you were going to the school to prepare some work for tomorrow and he had just smiled and nodded. Told you to take your time - that he loved you.

You were determined to tell David that this was not going to become a thing. It was not going to escalate. You conveniently ignored the fact that you wore your cutest sundress, your sheer panties, the matching bra. It was a confidence thing. Nothing to do with David.

I’m here.

You practically ran out the door. It was to end things, you were in a hurry to end things. There was a big SUV waiting in the visitors parking lot and you saw him sitting, looking at his phone. He smiled when he saw you and you felt the butterflies in your stomach as you got into the front seat. He gave you a once over, the shortness of your dress, the fact that your hair was done - and smiled as he drove away from your building; from your life.

Tell him, tell him to turn around and to take you back home. To leave you alone forever.

“Where are we going?” Was what came out when you opened your mouth.

“Somewhere we can be alone.” Was all he said, his hand moved and rested on your thigh as he drove. You stared at it and to your shame and excitement, you didn’t move it away. He gripped your thigh possessively, stroking the inside of it and it made you ache.

Do it - move his hand away, tell him - go on.

You put your hand on his, but you couldn’t move it away. The heat from his big palm was seeping into your skin and instead you just pressed his hand with yours.

Pathetic.

You were in an abandoned parking garage a little while later and he parked in a far corner. Your blood was pumping and you were nervous. He unbuckled his seatbelt and moved his seat all the way back, so he was far away from the steering wheel.

“David, I don’t think-” You started speaking but he cut you off.

“Come over here.” He tapped his lap and your stomach dropped, you wanted to crawl over there so bad. You stared at him and he raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to be a brat? Come over here, if I have to ask again you’re going to be punished.” You felt the wave of arousal wash over you. What could he possibly mean? You didn’t want to find out - not yet anyway.

You crawled over the console awkwardly and sat in his lap, straddling him. He smiled at you and settled his hands on your thighs.

“Such a good girl for me, did you think about me?” He lifted your dress slightly and grabbed handfuls of your ass. You couldn’t help but groan, you could feel him hardening underneath you and you didn’t even register your hands coming up to wrap around his neck. They seemed to play with the hair at the nape of his neck on their own. How could he excite you so much? “Answer me baby, when I ask you a question you need to answer me.” He was kissing your neck, and slowly undoing the buttons of your sundress.

“Yes.” You breathed as he exposed your bra, the lace so fine it was completely transparent. He smiled as he studied you. Face flushed, dress bunched up around your thighs, lips parted.

“What did you think about?” He runs the pads of his fingers across the tops of your breasts as he speaks and you can’t even begin to rationalise why you’re doing this.

“I thought about you…” you tried to be coy but you knew he wouldn’t leave it there.

“What about me, did you think about me touching you? Tell me.” He separates his body from yours, you can see that he wants you to answer before he continues. You can feel your face getting flushed.

“I thought about what we did at the museum, your hands…” you unconsciously tried to get closer to him and he smiled. He smelled so good, you could feel his cock and it made you ache.

“You thought about my hands? Be specific, baby. Tell me what you thought about.” He started kissing the tops of your breasts, slowly making his way down, kissing every inch he could reach through the fabric. You could feel the slick pooling at your entrance, you knew what he wanted. Your mind briefly went back to Charlie, to how he was intimidated by dirty talk.

“I thought about how I could still feel your fingers in my pussy when I got home. They stretched me so good.” Your face was beet red and your skin was on fire. This was what he wanted. He rewarded you by pulling your bra down, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were hard and begging for his mouth and he obliged; pulling you close so he could wrap his lips around one. His mouth was hot and you could feel his teeth just a little. Just enough to make you moan.

“Such a good girl for me, now you get a reward for being so good for daddy.” He bit your nipple a little harder than you thought and there was a bit of pain but it felt so good you let out a breathy moan. You felt him sucking and in the back of your mind, you knew this would leave a mark. Warning bells were going off, he couldn’t leave a mark. Charlie couldn’t see this.

He let go of one nipple to give the same attention to the other - it was so good you had to clutch at the back of his head, you wanted him closer. All thoughts of the marks forgotten when his tongue felt so good.

“Does it feel good? How wet are you right now baby?” He honed in on your nipple again, holding your breasts in his big hands and alternating between the two.

“Yes, god yes - it feels so good. I’m so wet for you…” All you could do was watch, watch as he licked and licked and licked until you were dizzy from the pleasure. Until you thought you might faint, until your nipples were overly sensitive and you could see the hickeys and the little bite marks.

“Show me how wet you are.” He pulled off and let you scoot back a little, you pulled your dress up and he saw the wet patch on your underwear. It was so bad it had soaked through onto his lap. The bulge in his jeans- a little darker. He groaned and skimmed his knuckle against the damp spot at your core and you shuddered. You were so keyed up from the attention he’d given your breasts that it wouldn’t take much at this point.

He undid his jeans and pulled himself out - his cock was so thick, your eyes widened - momentarily nervous. This whole thing just became real. Touching and words could be justified as a temporary madness, you didn’t know what you were doing. Sex, letting him fuck you - that would be the final line to cross. He saw the hesitation in your eyes.

You watched his hand grasp his cock and slowly start to stroke it between your legs, a pearly bead of precum on the head before his thumb swiped through it. Using it to make the strokes more fluid. He let you watch - saw your tongue lick your lips and he let you make the choice.

He waited for you to make the choice, but he didn’t make it easy.

“You see baby? You see how hard you make daddy's cock? I think about you, about how pretty you would look with it in your mouth, in your throat. About you bouncing on it - fucking you deep. Fucking my cum into you until you’re full of me.” He was working himself up, you could hear the slick strokes and you clenched, you needed him inside you.

Wordlessly, you pulled your panties to the side and scooted closer.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.” He didn’t stop stroking and you felt yourself getting desperate. You were about to let this married man fuck you in his car, in the middle of a parking garage in broad daylight. You couldn’t remember ever being this excited in your life.

“I want your cock, I want you to fuck me - please.” You were not above begging right now.

He was merciful - he pulled you closer and rubbed his cock through your folds once - then he slid inside. The stretch made you gasp. It hurt a little bit, even with how wet you were.

“Look how well you’re taking me baby, I know it’s a lot - so tight, god you feel so good.” He rested his head on your chest while he let you get accustomed. “Need to get you a little wetter, wet enough to take my big cock.” He focused on your nipples again, making you cry out. You were so full and your nipples were so sensitive you didn’t think you could take any more.

“Please - please move, please make me cum.” You were so overwhelmed you were on the verge of tears. He bucked up once and you gasped - he was pressed up against the spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars and you were moaning, you rolled your hips and as he bucked up into you and you knew the coil was about to snap. He snaked his hand down - pressing his thumb to your clit. Your slick was drenching his lap and you told him i’m gonna cum and he gripped your ass to really buck up and when you came he bit at your breast again.

“God you’re pussy gets so fucking wet when you cum, fuck - squeezing me so fucking tight, I’m going to think about this cunt later.” He came with a groan - open mouthed kisses on your breasts. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and you gave a silent prayer that you were on birth control.

You were not a virgin. You’d had sex before - you’d had good sex before. This wasn’t good sex. This was great sex -this was otherworldly and it scared you with how good you felt. Even with the bites and hickeys on your tits. How were you supposed to hide this? It was hard to feel the guilt when he was rubbing your back like this, when he was kissing your neck and loving you like this.

“You did so good baby - such a good girl for me.” He pulled you down to him by the back of your neck and he kissed you - his tongue running along the seam of your mouth. You granted him entrance and it was consuming, your hands gripped his hair and you clenched around him. He rewarded you with a groan into your mouth. Even with the guilt you couldn’t get close enough. His praise was like a tonic - you needed it and his kisses. You whimpered into his mouth and he knew. He knew what you needed. “My best girl, my beautiful girl. Took me so well, made me cum with that pretty pussy.” He kissed your neck and rubbed your back lovingly and you felt like a cat in a bright patch of sun under his praise. Cuddly and satiated as you burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“A few more minutes and then we have to go home.” He spoke into your hair as he let you take your comfort.

----

“You okay babe?” Charlie's voice startled you when you walked into the apartment, your tote bag full of school things, untouched on your shoulder.

“Yes - why?” You answered too quickly - you expected him to see everything written on your face. You could still feel David's cock inside you, his cum currently pooled in your panties. Could feel your breasts were a little sore from his attention and that excited you more than it had any right to.

“Nothing just looks like you’ve seen a ghost - did you get a lot done? I made dinner by the way - your favourite.” He smiled from the couch, he was playing video games which was good. Would mean he wouldn’t intrude on you in the bathroom. The guilt was hot and heavy in your gut but you plastered a smile on your face.

“Yeah, lots of activities planned for the kids tomorrow. Thanks babe- i’m going to shower quickly.” You smiled and came over to kiss him on the forehead quickly. Making sure not to linger too quickly. You had no idea if you smelled like David. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Okay honey, I’ll wait for you to eat.” He went back to his game.

----

This was not good.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror naked, your breasts were full of hickeys, little bruises. Your nipples were puffy from David’s mouth and the soreness between your legs was insistent. The tell tale heart only it was under your clothes instead of your floorboards.

How the fuck am I going to hide this?

The lips of your sex were sensitive when you washed, you kept replaying the whole thing over in your mind and you still couldn’t believe you’d done this. Not only had you done it, you’d enjoyed it immensely. His words, god his words.

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but compare them, Charlie and David. Polar opposites, especially in how they made you feel.

Charlie was dependable, he was home - pure comfort and love.

David was excitement, sex and filth and he made you so wet you couldn’t stand it. When he called you his good girl something inside you luxuriated, something was fulfilled that you didn't even realize needed fulfilling. You knew though, you knew this had to be a one time thing.

It couldn’t continue - you ignored that thing inside you that slithered, whispered that you couldn’t stop now - it was too good. You were really good at ignoring things it seemed.

It could have been considered cruel that Charlie’s blind acceptance of your excuse as to why you didn’t want to have sex annoyed you. You ignored that too.

---

David smiled at the wet spot on his jeans when pulled into his driveway.

You had been so responsive, so open to his touch. So receptive of his words and his actions.

The look on your face when he had your tits in his mouth had made him so painfully hard, he was rougher than he meant to be. His original plan had been to ease you into it - soft touches and soft words until he knew you were ready but that little dress, the sheer bra. You were going to be trouble and he couldn’t wait.

It was clear that whoever the jackass was you were engaged to - he wasn’t doing you justice. He wasn’t wringing pleasure out of you like he should be. He could see how much you had enjoyed his attention - even the roughness, the bites and the marking. Thinking about those marks and hickeys on your nipples excited him even now.

He was glad he was home alone - he could put his clothes to wash.

He had so many plans.

---

You managed to put David out of your mind when you went back to work. Your kids took up so much of your energy and it was nice to feel normal, you went so far as to delete his messages on your phone. Not before you saved his name as D, but nevermind that.

After a few days with no contact, you could almost pretend that you had hallucinated the whole thing. Until you saw the -thankfully- fading hickeys on your chest. You had told Charlie that you weren't feeling your best, that you wanted to keep your shirt on during your coupling and as always he agreed happily.

Seemed he could sense your inner peace, a message had come through late in the week while you were on your lunch break.

Free up Saturday night, be ready by 8

Your heart was racing, you could feel it in your clit. You didn’t answer, you wanted to make sure you could actually get away before responding but he didn’t like that. Another text came through.

I expect an answer.

Okay.

You texted back quickly.

Okay what…?

Oh god - you knew what he wanted you to write and it felt so wrong, so dirty but it excited you so much.

Okay daddy.

You blushed and covered your face, almost embarrassed, needing to see his reply but not wanting to face it at the same time.

That’s my good girl. Saturday at 8.

His praise was everything, it made your heart sing, made you feel light and giddy. You like being his good girl don’t you? That slithering thing again - you ignored it. It shamed you that the only thing you could do for the rest of the day, was try to think of a way to get rid of Charlie for the weekend.

—-

Charlie seemed pleasantly surprised, you had -very sneakily- messaged his best friend Jack that he should plan a boys weekend. That you thought he needed to have some fun. To stop thinking about the wedding. Oh god the wedding.

Jack had told you that Charlie was lucky you were so cool and that he’d plan something.

“Are you sure babe? I don’t have to go- it’s just a weekend at Jack’s cottage but I’m sure it’ll be fine if you came or if I stayed here.” You could see he wanted you to be happy, you stomped away the guilt.

“No you go ahead, Jack will be happy to have the boys there without the girlfriends or fiancé’s.” You gave him your most convincing smile. He smiled, promising that if you needed anything he would come back at the drop of a hat.

Not likely. You stomped the slithering thing down too.

----

Charlie left on Thursday night, Jack insisted they stay there until Monday morning and you talked Charlie into going. You relished the idea of being alone, pretending at least in some fucked up part of your brain that you were single. That David was single - just two single adults without families, without any responsibilities or commitments.

When Saturday finally came you were on edge, you had started getting ready a couple of hours before in your excitement. You didn’t want to delve too deep into what that meant but nevertheless.

You focused your energy on making sure your hair looked good, moisturizing your skin - meaningless things that took up your time and helped you conveniently ignore that you were prepping for sex with a married man while your fiance was with his friends.

I’m here.

Your heart leapt, you spritzed your best perfume and made your way out. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your way down.

He was serious when you got into the car and for a moment you were afraid you’d displeased him somehow, it should have worried you how much you craved his approval - his praise.

“Hi.” You said shyly - hoping he’d notice your dress but he didn’t. He drove without a word. What had happened? You thought back to how he had comforted you - held you close and rubbed your back. You wanted that, you wanted a little tenderness before the filth came. It seemed as though he sensed your panic and he placed his hand on your thigh- it calmed you more than it should have.

“Hi baby.” he gave you a little smile and the slithering thing stretched and luxuriated. Everything was okay.

“Where are we going?” You asked him - even though you knew he probably wouldn’t tell you but he surprised you.

“To my house - I’m going to fuck you in my bed.” He spoke casually, completely unphased. His eyes focused on the road, on the streetlights and signs. He couldn’t see how your heart leapt, how the heat spread from your face to your ears, leaving splotches of pink on your chest.

“But - what about?” You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words, your wife.

“She took the girls to their grandparents - I have the house to myself for the weekend. So i’m going to take advantage. Going to take you home - spread you out on my bed and I’m going to do all of the things I’ve been thinking about this whole week.” He spoke as he turned onto a neat little street, full of spaced out homes. Houses that screamed soccer moms and wall-street dads. White picket fences and minivans.

The house both matched him and it didn’t. It made sense that he’d be able to afford this - your thoughts went back to the designer bag Mrs. York brought to your meeting. The SUV you were sitting in had leather seats, it was probably brand new, Carol probably drove a Mercedes. They obviously had money.

You noticed that the lights outside the house were off - didn’t want his neighbours to see him bringing a woman who was definitely not his wife home on a Saturday night. He guided you to the house wordlessly and the guilt reared its ugly head at the sight of two bikes, casually tossed onto the porch. This man was married; had a family and here you were - wet and itching to get underneath him.

It was worse when you got in the house, his wife very much present in all things. Her shoes at the door, her sweater draped over a tasteful sectional. Little avatars of his children were scattered here too - dolls clothes, the evidence of a school project you had assigned. Graded work and colourful pictures drawn by little hands held up by souvenir magnets on the fridge. Visible even from outside the kitchen. Evidence of his life which shouldn’t have had any space for you.

Tell him to take you home right this minute your brain berated you. Your conscience was begging you to take back your life- this could only end badly. You thought of your upcoming wedding, of your sweet fiance who doted on you. On the boring unfulfilling sex the slithering thing added.

You thought all these things and more, but your legs carried you wherever he led. Your pussy dripped for him, your mouth stayed shut. Instead you followed him dutifully up the stairs - passed rooms with colourful block letters, rooms his daughters slept in. The cream coloured carpet under your feet was plush and it cushioned the sound of your steps - steps that took you passed a home office. You could see him there, sitting and working while his daughters played. While his wife cooked dinner.

You had no business here and yet, you kept walking.

The bedroom was tasteful, it was decorated with soft colours, taupes and beiges. The bed was neatly made - piled high with pillows and cushions. You could see them on this bed, David and Carol here, fucking in this bed. It was a curious feeling, you weren’t jealous; you had no reason to be. You had Charlie and he had Carol, was he looking for the same thing in you that you had found in him? He didn’t seem like the kind of man to settle.

You were looking around; so lost in your thoughts you barely heard him approach you and before you knew it he was wrapped around you and the thoughts melted away. His hands burned a path across your skin wherever they touched you.

“I fuck my wife in this bed. I fuck her and think of you. I think about how wet you got when I got your tits out. How wet you get when you cum.” he spoke into your ear and you had to take a deep breath, the ease with which he spoke to you like this was astounding. He walked you toward the bed until you had no choice but to sit.

“You look so pretty when you blush baby.” he ran his hand through your hair, gripping it a little tight, pulling it back so your neck was craned up to him - it pulled a gasp out of your mouth.

“I keep thinking about you like this - looking up at me.” He was taking in everything about you - his gaze travelling the length of your body. “I don’t want to have to ask you things twice tonight. I know you’re going to be a good girl. Are you excited?”

“Yes, very excited.” You answered quickly and he smiled.

“Open your mouth for me baby, show daddy how excited you are.” He started undoing his pants and you unconsciously scooted closer to him. Everything about him lit a fire within you and the thought of his cock in your mouth was making you drool.

He was already hard, you looked up at him through your lashes; tongue out and ready.

“My pretty girl - look at you, so gorgeous like this. Mouth open ready for my cock.” He held himself in one hand while the other held your chin. You licked the bead of precum from the tip and almost moaned. “Tongue out.” He thrust into your mouth slowly- letting you get accustomed to his size, pushing a little deeper each time. You made to raise your hands but he pulled away.

“No baby, not yet, let me fuck your mouth, be good for me - get your tits out for me.” You moaned as you pulled your shirt and bra down. He groaned at the faint marks on your nipples from the last time you were together and continued.

You were so wet, you could feel your panties sticking to you. You sat there as still as you could while he repeatedly slid his cock into your mouth. He would push until he hit your throat and wait until you gagged and then pull out, until you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks. You felt depraved with his precum and your spit dripping onto your chest but the sounds he was making were worth it.

“Look at you, so fucking pretty like this baby, you’re being so good, such a good girl for me. I could cum just like this.” You moaned at his words, at his praise, at the taste of him. He switched your positions so you were standing between his spread legs on the bed. He slowly took your clothes off, kissing your stomach as he went.

“Look at that- look how wet this pretty pussy is. Is all this from having my cock in your mouth baby?” He ran his fingers along your lower lips, all pretty and glossy for him. He kept his touch feather light while he waited for a response.

“Yes, yes you make me this wet, your hands, your mouth, your cock - you.” You brought your hands up to touch his hair and he let you, his hand keeping that slow rhythm - driving you mad with want. He licked at your nipples again while you stood there, steadily gripping his hair tighter and tighter. He pulled away momentarily to take the rest of his clothes off, and when he was done you walked over to him again but before you could mount him he got up and walked around to the side of the bed facing a full length mirror.

You made to straddle him but he stopped you, turning you so you faced away from him; he wanted you to see yourself.

“Look at you, look at how pretty you look. You’re going to watch as Daddy fucks you. We’re both going to watch you bounce on my cock.” He kissed your hip, and bit at your asscheek playfully. You swallowed hard, thinking back to Charlie and knew he never would have thought of this.

He pulled you down and guided himself into your soaked center- the stretch of him making you groan and flutter around him. He spread your legs with his knees, you could see where you were joined in the mirror and the vision of you like that was dizzying. You could hardly recognize yourself like this, your skin was flushed, lips parted, hair dishevelled. You could still see your spit on your chest - you gasped when he bucked up.

“Look how well you take me? Look how well you're taking my cock, does it feel good? Do you like watching?” He moved his hands from their steady grip at your hips, up to grab your tits.

“Yes - god yes Daddy, it feels so good.” You were unhinged. Feeling his cock splitting you open was one thing, seeing it disappear into your body brought the whole thing to another level.

“My best girl, this is my pussy. Mine.” His movements were getting frantic and you couldn’t help but moan, your slick soaking his lap at his words. “Say it, tell me it’s mine.” He brought one hand down to rub perfect little circles at your clit and your climax raced up to hit you. You came with a god yes and he stilled his movements. Your cunt squeezing him so tightly he could barely move. He stood up quickly and put your hands up against the mirror without pulling out.

“Hold still for me, I want you to watch yourself get fucked.” You moaned, you were so wet the sounds were obscene, a wet slap against your ass. It was so dirty, the way he grabbed at you. The way he held your shoulder so he could fuck you harder than you’d ever been fucked and it was too much. You felt on the verge of tears at the intensity but he kept going, until you felt him cum inside you. Felt him dripping out of you and onto that lush carpet.

You couldn’t remember how many times he’d made you cum. All you knew was you were tired, your body spent, your cunt was sore, your tits were sore - your muscles. Everything - but still he wanted more.

He pulled you into the shower to wash your combined pleasure off, but he coaxed more pleasure out of you with his fingers as the water soothed you slightly.

You laid in his bed, maybe even in Carol’s spot with his head between your thighs. He told you how good your pussy tasted, how he owned it; and he did.

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

*let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all things Pedro*

As always - thanks to you my angels for letting me send random passages and long pieces of writing for your opinions lol - I literally wouldn't post without you. @foli-vora 💖@frannyzooey 💖 @mouthymandalorian💖

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#dave york x reader #dave york #dave york x you #suburban murder daddy #dave york pit #dave york fanfiction #equalizer 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #dave york x fem!reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader

[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

[olivyh]

TWST FAMILY HCS PT 1) Heartslabyul

Riddle:

-We all know his mother’s personality (cough cough garbage), but I think that she acts that way behind closed doors and is professional and cares a lot about her public appearance, which is why Riddle was so nervous to come out about the things shes done.

-I think his mother is a little taller than him, maybe 5’5, 5’6. Shoulder length red hair thats almost always tied back in some way.

-I think he gets his short gene from his father, who I think acts like the king of hearts from Alice in Wonderland, but less stuttery and more on the timid side. I don’t think he and Riddle talk much aside from when they have to be in the same room as one another

Trey:

-I picture Mama Clover being on the shorter and more heavyset side, with lighter green hair (with grey streaks because managing a popular bakery and watching over her children has to take a toll) and dark brown eyes (you know the kind that makes people look like baby deer?) I think she’s quieter and kind, giving out free cookies to kids who might have a tighter budget or who couldn’t get what they want. Despite that, she’d be on the stricter side when it comes to her children, making sure they don’t eat too many sweets or hurt themselves in the kitchen

-Papa Clover is on the more carefree side. He’s the one who mostly runs the kitchen of the bakery. I like to think he’s an artist (bc designing cakes is IMPOSSIBLY HARD) and often sketches his wife and kids when he has the time (theres an old sketch of mama clover rocking baby trey still hanging in their hallway). He’s where Trey gets his prankster side from, often spraying the kids with the hose from the sink or clapping flour all over them

-Trey’s younger brothers, who I like to think are twins like tweedle dee and tweedle dum, act just like them. They’re mischievous and love to hear stories from all over the place, often interrupting one another when they they to retell their own. They’re likely somewhere around ten-twelve, since I think their parents would have wanted time with just Trey before having more. The two are practically inseparable, except in the kitchen. The kitchen turns into a war zone whenever the two are involved, and often Trey or his mother have to step in. They inherited their mother’s green hair and brown eyes.

-Baby sister Clover is the baby of the family, ranging at four to five years old. I think she’s the one who’s most like Trey personality wise, often acting like a “mini-mom” to her older brothers. She’s stubborn, and knows how to use her cuteness to her advantage. I mean, how can anyone turn down her with her baby fave and eyes made bigger by her comically large glasses (are they even hers???)

Cater:

-Papa Diamond: An oldie at heart. Has no idea how technology works and often struggles with basic phone protocol. He tries to get involved with his children and their fast paced life, helping Cater and his sisters with whatever trend they need hik for. No matter what, he’s their biggest fan and will print out his favorite pictures of them from their magicams. I think he had brown-ish hair before it all turned grey due to having to raise three children on his own (including two Cater-like personalities). I’d say he’s on the taller and more heavyset side.

-Oldest sister Diamond: The straight laced and mature one. She tries to act like shes so much older than she is, and insists that her decision to major in photography is not at all based off those pictures of magicam models. She does partake in teasing her younger brother when she can, though, critiquing him on his angles and choice of filter (she really wants to help him grow his magicam account but is afraid to say it without hiding it behind teasing). She has bright orange hair that she often wears up, though when it’s down it goes all the way down her back. She’s also taller (5’7-5’8 ish)

-Second oldest sister: The wild card. She is a social butterfly much like her younger brother, but cranked up to a ten. She is impulsive which ends up in a lot of late night tears with her sister while Cater tries to fix her failed bangs (“they made it look so easy online!”). She often sneaks out to take walks through the nearby city at night, thriving in the busy streets and the bright lights. She takes pictures to show Cater so they can go to the small spots she finds in the morning (even though all her photos turn out blurry or smudged- she got the gene from her father). She has short chopped orange hair, that often has little accessories or chunks dyed different colors.

Deuce:

-Mama Spade: The love of my life, the apple of my eye, the sun to my moon, Mama Spade. The sweetest woman you will ever meet, always looking out for her son and his friends. Even when he was hanging with a bad crowd, when one of his friends needed a place to stay because something happened at home she was the first to take them in. She seems like the kind of person to love animals (despite being upset about not being able to take care of one), and often sends Deuce small magicam posts about animals doing cute things. He got his love of chickens from her. She is probably around 5’4, and has the same coloring as Deuce, with dark blue hair that goes down her back (with a few grey streaks, making her hair look like the sky with shooting stars) (god i love her and she’s not even shown in game)

Ace:

-Papa Trappola: A gruff man, who stands at the same height as his son. He’s like one of those men you meet outside a 7-11 and they’ll tell you their life story for a slushie. Definitely has had a rebellious youth that shaped him to be a little rougher, which got him in trouble, but otherwise deeply cares for his wife and children (even though he shows it in weird ways- like when one of them mentions they like a certain food he’ll drop a whole container of it on their beds and leave, acting like he doesn’t know where it came from) He definitely looks like Giulia’s (i butchered that) dad from Luca.

Mama Trappola: Remember what I said about Luca? Yeah, she looks like Luca’s mom in human form. She’s a stern and strict woman, often scolding her boys and husband for bickering. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and can and will snap at anyone who threatens any of her boys (it’s terrifying to see a short, stout redheaded woman charging at you). She’s very affectionate when she’s not scolding them, often smothering her sons in hugs and kisses, making obnoxious noises while doing it.

-Big brother Trappola: Cockier than Ace by a mile, and won’t hesitate to be blunt about whatever’s on his mind. If you want the truth, he’ll give it and then some. He’s a lot more level headed than his brother, brushing off arguments and snide comments like it’s nothing. He’s a very talented magician, serving as a role model for his younger brother. He looks the exact same as Ace but with hair that is kept more neat and being a few inches taller, almost at the six ft line

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcannons #twst headcannons #ace trappola #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #heartslabyul

[alexdecastelo]

𓂃  *  ｡  ◜  s̶y̶d̶n̶e̶y̶ ̶s̶w̶e̶e̶n̶e̶y̶  , cis woman  ,  she/her  .  ꒰  ALEXANDRA GENEVIEVE DECASTELO just  walked  through  the  lobby  and  took  the  soundproof  elevator  to  apartment  2501  .  obviously  ,  they  can  afford  their  home  at  the  ivy  because  they  are  that one rock star’s daughter  ,  which  is  kind  of  hot  if  we’re  being  honest  .  we  saw  on  the  lease  agreement  that  they  are TWENTY EIGHT years  old  and  originally  come  from  san mateo county, california  ,  even  honestly  filling  out  the  questionnaire  by  saying they’re destructive but  also  resilient  .  anyway  ,  other  tenants already  associate  them  with STUMBLING OFF THE ELEVATORS AT THE CRACK OF DAWN, THE WARMTH OF A BONFIRE ON A CHILLY NIGHT, AND CHANEL N°5 GRAND EXTRAIT.  however  ,  we  think  if  they  ever  become  famous  —  the headline  would  be  ’ 20 grand in property damages after former rock star’s daughter’s luxury hotel suite is left trashed   ’  .  but  whatever  ,  make  sure  to  borrow  some  sugar  from this  tenant  cause  we  sure  are  !  ꒱   ◞

NAME: alexandra (alex) genevieve decastelo D.O.B: october 22, 1993 AGE: 28 years old BIRTH PLACE: san mateo county, california SEXUALITY: bisexual LISTENING TO: risk - deftones, crazy bitch - buckcherry, man in the box - alice in chains [ continue ] ★ BIO

quite literally raised on sex, drugs, and rock and roll before the phrase was anything more to her than a shitty song, alexandra reaped the benefits of a famous parent from the moment she understood his grip on the music industry. it bought her instant popularity growing up, parents that pushed their children to befriend her as soon as first grade simply because posters of her father were plastered on their teenage bedroom walls, and others that  forced them to stop talking to her after reading one too many headlines exposing the band’s habits behind closed doors, the later sparking her resentment towards her father early. a cute little girl that ran around in oversized vintage band tees quickly grew up to a teen that learned to love the thrill and adventure of breaking the law and raising hell, chilling out never lasted more than a few days after getting herself in trouble. threats and compromises only made her rebel harder, even being busted by the cops and spending a night behind bars at the ripe age of eighteen only turned in to a game of testing what else she could get away with. ** [ tw : death, parental death, drug mentions ] partying on both major coasts of the country and an incredibly easy, cushy life came to a quick halt with the sudden death of her mother, for the first time alex was given a hard, harsh hit of reality and dealing with it the  only way she knew how - benders and red eye flights to keep herself from staying more than a night in the same city, her recklessness in her mid to late twenties made her past seem mild in comparison. her father’s latest (and last) attempt at intervention brings her spot at the ivy. a luxurious apartment on the upper west side that most people could only ever dream of affording, but to her it’s just another form of confinement, as if it was some sort of cruel, sick punishment for years of bad behavior and putting everyone around her through hell

☆ PERSONALITY: + confident, charismatic, persistent, decisive, independent, resilient - self absorbed, temperamental, stubborn, impulsive, argumentative, egocentric, unreliable, destructive

★ ETC: ∙ really obnoxious most of the time so sry in advance. she’s the definition of a spoiled brat and her father has only ever treated her like a child so it's very difficult for her to grow the fuck up, even at 28. likes to play devils advocate. she’s a fighter and will hold a grudge for days over the dumbest things. if you tell her to turn down the music she’ll crank it up twice as loud, if she has to be somewhere by 6:30 she’ll purposely set an alarm for 7:45, a no smoking sign is just an invitation to light up a cigarette out of spite, etc. she does what she wants, lives by her own set of rules just because she’s never had to do otherwise, and has very little regard for anyone or how her choices interfere with other people’s lives which leads to a lot of heated arguments and/or ‘trouble’ when someone is finally tired of her bullshit. (✼ ) ∙  that being said, she also has a certain charm that draws people to her. she’s undoubtedly cool, like one of those strangers u see out somewhere and can’t help but think about, that for some reason stays in your mind after the smallest conversation. insanely confident. people think they want to be around her and her lifestyle until they experience first hand what a ticking time bomb she truly is. she’s fallen out with almost everyone around her more times than she can keep track of but is still set in her ways ∙ grew up on 70s/80s/90s rock, her household was obviously very musical and there was always an endless rotation of music blasting from either the stereo or being played live. everything from the talking heads, ac/dc, metallica, iron maiden, black sabbath, mötley crüe to her mom’s “tamer” collection of duran duran, sonic youth, and pink floyd. music is the only thing she has any sort of passion about which makes the many venues and record stores of nyc the perfect place to find her (✼ ) ∙ ** [ tw : alcohol, drug mentions, drug use. plz skip this paragraph ] has the reputation of quite the wild child. it’s only fitting when introduced to drugs and the party scene at a very young age. almost all of her earliest memories as a child involve one, if not both, of her parents with a blunt. the smell of marijuana rolled with tobacco became a thing of comfort (along with rain on dry earth) and on a random day of freshman year she broke in to her dad’s stash and a next gen stoner was quickly born. the leniency when it came to smoking made her comfortable with the idea of ‘drugs’ quick and when getting high became more of a daily necessity than a vice, she opted for cocaine. it became the new ‘go to’ simply because it was a party drug - easily accessible and everyone around her seemed to encourage it. at twenty,  it was routine to get a nice alcohol buzz going before doing her first line of the night, and at twenty five, she was convinced there was no better way to listen to live music than on psychedelics. nowadays, she’s simmered down a bit and settles with weed (her apartment always reeks of it), claiming to save coke for “special occasions” (like, right before a night out or whatever other bullshit she decides is warranted) but it doesn’t take much convincing if she’s offered ∙ more tbd !!!

☆ TLDR: daughter of late 70s-80′s rock legend / one the best selling music artists of all time. whether that’s a known fact or not is utp and could lead to some interesting plots :-) despite her father’s fame and unavoidably growing up in the public eye, she lives a relatively normal life - occasionally she’ll be stopped on the street or someone will come up to her when she’s out but thats few and far between. known for being a partier. likes d̶r̶üg̶s̶ and is always playing music around the apartment obnoxiously loud that can be heard down the hall. first time living anywhere for more than a few months at a time in her adult life. spoiled brat that feels like she’s owed the world. typically cold & standoffish but is always on the list to nyc’s biggest parties which is usually why most people put up with her

★ PLOTS:

first of all, thank u for reading this mess of an intro, i am always the worst at writing these and seeing everyone else’s pretty graphics and formatting makes mine look like a joke looolll but anyway. everything marked above with (✼ ) are random little basic things i thought of on the spot while writing this that could potentially be fun ideas for plotting but other than that i do prefer to go off chemistry and let things play out in real time as opposed to plotting out how an interaction/connection is going to go beforehand. however if you feel like alex could fill any wanted plots or connections or reading this has sparked any ideas of ur own, please don’t hesitate to send me an im on here or message me on d*sc to chat. excited to write with u all & see what’s in store for our group!!

#—— ⌊ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 . ⌋ #abt #ivy.intro #late 2 the party as usual but hiiii <3 excuse any typos i haven't proof read #also i don't think this will show up in the tags yet so ??? cool #intro mentions drugs alcohol and death but tws are in place

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

epilogue

masterlist

Here it is my darlings! The epilogue! I fully expect you all to come for my head, but enjoy! It’s been a pleasure to write it!!-- chaotic puff

Y/N enjoyed the August sunshine as she wandered the market. Her life had been peaceful since coming to the Italian countryside taking on a new name, a new life. She had taken a job at a local restaurant and found them a small house bordering one of the olive orchards that littered the countryside where Mark was able to find a job. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was freedom, blessed freedom.

Italy had been good for her. There was no JB, no Namjoon, no mafia to worry about. No one knew her here. It was the fresh start she needed after her time in Korea. Here she was a Canadian woman from Quebec by the name of Alice Morin living with her husband of a year Matthew, also from Quebec. It was quiet. The only unexpected thing had been the baby.

The baby had been a rather rude surprise. She’d only just escaped Namjoon when she’d begun to show early signs. It had been a doctor in Prague, one that she was not entirely sure was practicing medicine legally, that had given them the news. She was several weeks along in a pregnancy that she had never wanted to begin with, but she was determined to make the best of it, even if the child was Namjoon’s. 

She could remember turning to Mark with panicked eyes once the doctor had given them the news. They were on the run. They were trying to start a new life. They were both still grieving the death of a dear friend, more than one on Mark’s part. But Mark had taken her hands in his and smiled at her and told her that it would all be alright, that they could do this. It would be her tiny miracle, not Namjoon’s. He would make sure of that.

Eventually they’d made their way to Italy, establishing themselves in the northern countryside. It was a good life, more peaceful than she had ever known. The village was out of the way, vineyards and olive trees and above all sunshine. She loved it there, and for the first time every she was able to enjoy a pregnancy. 

She’d been almost too scared to acknowledge the baby at first. Mark had been more invested than she had worrying over the constant movement and stress it would cause to her and the little buddy as Mark called him. They didn’t actually know the sex of the baby. Because of the restraints on both funds and access to proper medical care, Mark had chosen the remote Italian countryside, and had settled on using the local midwife to deliver the baby when the time came which left them with no clue of the baby’s gender. 

Little by little, she had been able to become more excited about the baby. The nonnas of the village were more than happy to help with the pregnancy teaching her how to knit and sow, helping her put together the nursery, teaching her how to make proper Italian food. She couldn’t say how many times, she’d heard her boss being scolded by the local nonnas about letting a pregnant woman work so much. Mark also got his fair share of scoldings from the nonnas. 

They’d melded into the village quite well after being there for so long now, they had their own routines and rituals, a peaceful life. Part of which included her weekly visit to the local church to light a candle for Jackson.

The church was one of her favorite parts of the village. It was small but beautiful, like so many other things in Italy. The local priest was always kind enough to say a few words to her before he left her in peace to grieve and contemplate in silence. She’d never been particularly religious before, but this brought her comfort. After her trip to the church, she’d go to the market before she walked home.

“Buongiorno, bella donna!” An old man she bought flowers from every week called out as she came into view of his stall.

“Buongiorno, signore!” Her smile was bright, happy as she walked over “Come stanno i fiori oggi?” She asked looking over the flowers he had laid out.

“Oggi abbiamo bellisime dalie. Il tuo italiano sta diventando motto buono.” He complimented with a wrinkled smile already preparing the dahlias he had just mentioned. It was their tradition. Every week she would ask about the flowers, and he would tell her what he thought was the most beautiful that week and prepare a bunch for her.

“Grazie.”

“Come sta il bambino?” He asked motioning to the rather large swell of her belly.

“Calcia come un giacatore di futbol.” She replied with a tired but happy smile looking down at her belly with playful exasperation. She swore that the little one was trying to kill her from the inside out sometimes or at least enjoyed using her organs as a punching bag. “Sono pronto per la sua nascita.”

“Quanto tempo fino alla nascita, Alicia?” He asked handing her the bunch of dahlias.

“Sei settimane.”

“Cosí presto!” He cheered as she paid for the flowers. “Non veds l’ora di incontrare il piccolo. Io e mia moglie ci piacerebbe averti a cena quando nasce il piccolo.”

“Grazie. Mi piacerebbe molto. Ciao, signore!”

“Ciao, bella donna!”

She continued through the market stopping at stalls and bopping into the bakery to pick up some fresh bread all the while oblivious to the dark gaze that followed her movements. He watched as she laughed with vendors and smiled at the Italian boys that paid her compliments. His blood boiling. That was his wife, and she was pregnant with his child, and yet she was here with Mark. He was getting to play the father to Namjoon’s child. 

He’d been searching for her for months. Her disappearance had wreaked havoc on the manor, had wreaked havoc on him, but here she was perfectly alive and well and happy, and with another man no less. The entire organization had gone through an in depth cleansing, and GOT7 had been dealt with for good, all in preparation to bring her home. There was only one more pest to take care of.

 Namjoon had never once doubted that he would find her. There was nowhere in the world she could hide from him, though he was impressed by how long she had managed to hide from him. It had been eight months since he had last seen her, eight torturous months, but that would all be over soon.

It took every ounce of his self-control not to take her right then and there, but there were too many people there now for her to take her now. She would be in his arms soon enough though, and then she would never leave him again. To say he was shocked when he’d received news of her with a picture of her swollen belly would have been an understatement. He hadn’t even known she was pregnant at the time of her escape, but both she and their child would be home soon. From the look of her, it wouldn’t be long until they welcomed their little one into the world. Namjoon had immediately started preparations for both her and the baby as soon as he’d found her. Everything would be perfect for her and their child. All that was left to do was to bring her home. Her pest was already on his way back to Korea to suffer a slow and torturous death by Namjoon’s own hand. 

Namjoon followed her home carefully following her in watching from the shadows as she clipped the stems of the flowers and arranged them in a vase in her kitchen humming softly as she did.

“Hey, Tono.” She cooed as a cat jumped up on the counter next to her. She smiled down at the creature gently rubbing it behind the ears. “How did you get in here? You don’t live here, silly kitty.” 

She didn’t seem bothered though by the cat’s presence even if it wasn’t hers. She continued about her business arranging the flowers in their vase occasionally cooing at the creature in a mixture of Italian and English. Eventually moving into singing silly Italian children’s songs to the cat as it basked in the sunshine on her kitchen counter. 

The cat knew something she didn’t though his hair standing on end and hissing before jumping out of the open kitchen window much to her confusion. 

“Tono?” She asked moving over to the window to see where the cat went. 

“Hello, jagi.” He cooed coming up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist so that his hands rested against her belly as he breathed her scent in. “Did you miss me?”

She gasped dropped the vase to the floor as she spun around to face the man who still haunted her nightmares. “Namjoon.” She whimpered backing up until she was pressed back against the counter. “Don’t come any closer!” She yelped grabbing a knife and brandishing it in his direction. “Where’s Mark?” 

“Put the knife down, jagi.” He sighed approaching her slowly. “You’re already in enough trouble don’t you think?”

“Get away from me.” She whimpered keeping the knife pointed in his direction her eyes flashing wildly as she looked for an escape. “What did you do to Mark?”

“It’s time to go home, jagi.” He cooed growing increasingly annoyed by her asking after the other man.

“I’m not going back there.” She hissed inching her way towards the door.

“You don’t have much choice, jagiya.” He chuckled darting forward and grabbing her wrist, He pulled her closing putting pressure on her wrist to an almost painful amount until she released the knife with a clatter. He wrapped her in his arms again pulling her into his chest tightly though keeping her belly in mind, not wanting to hurt her or the baby. 

“Stop fighting me.” He hissed holding her still even as she struggled against him. “It isn’t good for the baby.”

“You son of a bitch.” She hissed continuing her struggles.

“That’s no way to talk to your husband, jagi, especially not after the trouble you’ve caused.”  He growled tamping down his annoyance at her continued defiance. Didn’t she know that there was no escape for her now? “Think of the baby, jagi.”

It was those words that ceased her struggles as she hung in his arms. She couldn’t risk hurting the baby even if it meant she had to go with Namjoon.

“That’s my good girl.” He cooed moving his hands to rest against her belly again. “It wasn’t very nice of you to hide our baby from me, but it will all better once we’re home.” He assured her 

She shuddered but didn’t fight anymore as the baby stirred uncomfortably responding to her distress. “Wait!” She yelped pulling against his hold again as he began to drag her out of the house. “Please wait!”

His gaze was annoyed as he looked back at her. “I have waited. Seven months is a long time, jagi.” He spat tugging her forward again.

“Please, I just need to grab something. Please, it’s for the baby.” He quirked a brow at her curiously as she looked up at him with desperate, frightened eyes. “Please.” She begged again eyes watering as she pulled against his hold.

“If you’re lying to me, jagi…” He warned but released her wrist and following her closely as she moved through the little house to the bedroom where a crib was situated by the window. The village had made that for them when she’d first started to show. Placed carefully over the edge of the crib was a blanket hand knitted with love for the baby.

She picked up the blanket folding it against her chest tightly almost like a shield. “I made it for the baby.” She breathed out with a shuddering under his harsh gaze.

He nodded lips set in a grim line before placing a firm hand against her back and leading her out of the house, shuffling her into the car that was waiting outside her home. They drove through the village to what she assumed was an airport waiting to take her back to her gilded cage, back to their game, and it was time to decide what to do, now that the chips were down. 

to be continued...

Italian translation: May not be entirely accurate. My Spanish is much better than my French (which is dismal), and my Italian is practically non-existent much to the shame of my godfather. 

good morning, beautiful lady.

good morning sir. How are the flowers today?

we have beautiful dahlias today. Your Italian is becoming very good.

thank you. 

how is the baby?

he kicks like a futbol player. I’m ready for him to be born. 

how long till the birth?

six weeks

so soon! My wife and I would love to have you for dinner after the birth. I can’t wait to meet the little one.

thank you. I would love to. goodbye sir. 

goodbye, beautiful lady.

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts rm #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #mafia namjoon #yandere namjoon #yandere #soft yandere #rm x reader #rm #mafia #mafia au #dark romance #fanfic #a dangerous game

[headinthestaticsky]

The Phenomenon of the Immortal Sun: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 3

None of the characters in Twilight belong to be, all rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick."

Lovesick by, BANKS.

The reception looked absolutely beautiful It seemed every inch of it was covered in decorations.

"I have to admit, Alice and Rosalie know what they're doing," Jasper said.

"They even made the cake look appetizing to me... not enough for me to stomach to eat it but still," I replied, ever since I had become a vampire, human food made me sick.

"They've done their job then," Jasper said a smile was still etched on his face.

We began to sway to the music, I melted into him.

"Please call me your baby, baby Look how long that you have kept me waiting I'm all in, look at all that I have given Oh, I know your love before I kissed you And now you have only made me miss you Come get me Come love me, baby come love me."

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick."

"I just wish Bree could be out here with the rest of us..."

"I wish she could too, but even if she wasn't presumed dead...being around all the humans wouldn't be good for her," Jasper explained comfortingly.

"I know." I pecked Jasper's cheek.

"Please call me your baby baby baby Look how long that you have kept me waiting I'm all in, look at all that I have given Oh, I know your love before I kissed you And now you have only made me miss you Come get me Come love me, baby come love me."

"'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up, for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick.'

"Are you going to tell me where we're going or is it going to be a surprise still." I inquired.

"Patience my love, good things come to those who wait." He teased, biting my lip.

I whined

"I don't wanna wait..."

'Cause I'm lovesick And I ain't even ashamed And I'm hard up for some time in your sheets Would you be down to spend all your time with me? 'Cause I'm lovesick

'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick 'Cause I'm love sick

We broke apart from our loving embrace when the song ended. I scanned the crowd searching to see if I could find Leah and Seth again, when I did I dragged Jasper with me eager to see them.

"Hi, I'm so glad you guys made it!" I greeted them and pulling them both in for a hug.

"Good to see you Fleur, you look beautiful." Leah said, Seth nodded in agreement. I saw Billy Black and Sue standing behind them. I walked up to them and hugged them too.

"I hope you'll be happy Fleur...I wish you both the best." Billy said with a somber tone.

"Thank you."

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you but I plan on getting drunk. Sue, could I interest you in a glass of Champaign?" Dad asked.

Before Sue could speak Billy interrupted them.

"Sparkling fire water. Sounds great." Billy said, almost running over dad's ankles." They all walked away.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to get together?" I asked Jasper.

"I give them a month or 2." Jasper estimated. Two unfamiliar voices greeted us both.

"Fleur, Jasper! Congratulations!" A woman greeted.

"Thank you." Jasper replied.

Two gorgeous vampires greeted us, one male and one female.

"Hi, Umm... Eleazar and Carmen, right?" I guessed.

"Mhm, Hola!" Carmen said.

I then saw three blonde women standing behind them, observing us. Jasper saw me looking at them and answered the thought bubbling in my head.

"Those these are our cousins from Alaska. Tanya, Kate, and Irina."

"We've heard so much about you. I'm Tanya." She greeted sticking out her hand for me to shake it.

"Welcome to the family. Bienvenida." Eleazar added.

"Thank you. You're very welcoming." I said.

"Irina, Come meet Fleur." Carmen called out to her.

I could tell something was troubling Irina and I followed to where her gaze was fixated at. She was looking at Seth, anger was in her eyes.

"I can't do this..." She grumbled.

"You promised," Tanya hissed at her.

"She invited one of them."

Jasper looked to where she was gesturing to and sighed.

"Irina, he's one of our friends."

"They killed Laurent!" She rebutted back

"He tried to kill my sister and I." I explained.

"I don't believe that." She said, getting in my face.

"I suggest you back away now... we don't need to cause a scene." I grumbled getting even closer to her face.

She backed away and left, stomping away.

"I'm sorry you guys, thank for coming." I said, a guilty look made it's way onto my face.

"No no don't worry about it..." Carmen comforted.

"Well. Let's not monopolize the bride. Congratulations." Eleazar said. Walking away with Carmen

"Thank you."

"We're sorry." Tanya said, her and Kate walked away as well.

"Well.. what's a wedding without a little family drama huh?" I asked playfully.

"C'mon you let's go, speeches are starting." Jasper said, pulling me in the direction of the chairs.

"Excuse me. Is this on? Hello?" I heard Rosalie whistle at Emmett.

"Umm, I'd like to propose a toast. To my new sister. Fleur, I hope you've gotten enough sleep these last 19 years. 'Cause you won't be getting any more for a while." Emmett laughed and winked at me.

My mouth was slightly agape and I breathed out a laugh. I turned and saw my dad who downed his glass of champagne. My mother just rolled her eyes and repeated what my father had done. I saw Leah stand up and go over to the stage.

"Fleur... I've known you for as long as I could remember. Some of my favorite memories were with you on that beach. And the reaction you would give every time I would shove you into the freezing cold water."

Everyone in the crowd laughed.

"I know I haven't always been the nicest to you, after my father died I completely blew you off.... I know I treated you coldly. But you still were kind and gracious to me and my brother Seth. So thank you... for always being there for me even when I wasn't there for you. Jasper, you better take care of her, you have a whole lot of people who are willing to hunt you down." Leah finished. Jasper gave her a nod and a smile, a silent promise in a way.

My dad stepped up next, I saw tears in his eyes and gave him a comforting smile.

"Jasper will be a good husband. I know this because I'm a cop. I know things. Like how to hunt somebody to the ends of the Earth... I also know how to shoot a gun. But I also know this because he's loyal and empathetic, and a wonderful influence on my daughter. He sniffled before continuing, I love you Fleur... and I'm so happy for you... for both of you."

"Now that you're my sister, you'll have to get over your version to fashion... Yes, you have some style but... the t-shirt and jeans have got to go... and those god-awful ankle boots have got to go too." Alice said.

"Never!" I jokingly yelled.

"Fleur, I remember when Jasper had come home saying he had finally met "the one." I was skeptical, scared even... my first instinct on you was to hate your guts and keep you away from my family. But then I got to know you and I saw how compassionate and understanding you were. I knew you wouldn't hurt my brother, who had been treated horribly for so long and deserved someone with the same amount of compassion as him. Thank you Fleur, welcome to the family. To Jasper and Fleur!" Rosalie finished raising a champagne glass.

"To Jasper and Fleur!" Everyone repeated.

Dinner had gone by smoothly, everyone was too distracted to notice none of the Cullen's and I had eaten or drunk anything. Soon enough after most of the cake was devoured it was time for us to go. I had to run to the bathroom since my contacts were beginning to dissolve in my eyes due to the venom. When I got back out I saw Alice and Rosalie putting Jasper and I's bags into my car. Before I could make it to my car dad approched me.

"Well... It's gonna be strange, you not living under my roof." He started.

"Yeah. It's gonna be strange for me, too." I replied.

"You know it will always be your home, right?"

I know dad, I love you. Forever. I pulled him in for a hug.

"I love you, too, Petal. I always have and I always will. All right. Go on. You don't wanna miss your plane. Wherever it's going."

"I won't dad... I should probably say bye to mom and Bella too..."

"Good luck Petal," Dad said, humor was in his voice. I sighed and walked my way over to them, they were embracing and saying goodbye to one another, since Bella was going on her honeymoon too.

"Oh, Bella... I will miss you so much, I love you." Renee said tearfully.

"I love you too mom, I will miss you too," Bella replied. They both stopped talking to one another when I approached them. Their faces dropped, it seemed I dampened the mood.

"Well, I'll see you later mom, Bella, have a good one." I said.

"Yes, I'll see you in nine months... I mean... later." Renee said condescendingly.

"Mother, even if I was pregnant I wouldn't let you near my child. They don't need your spews of toxicity around them." I spat out before walking away.

I hugged all of the Cullens before walking up to the car, I was about to get into the driver's seat when I threw the keys at Jasper. His face was in shock.

"Only because we got married, cowboy, it's a present from me to you."

"Thanks, Darlin." He smiled at me.

We began to drive off, I waved at the people in the crowd and smiled at them.

"Ready to go?" Jasper asked.

"Yeah...I'm ready."

#jasper whitlock x oc #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper hale x oc #carlisle cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #alice cullen #edward cullen #twilight saga #bella swan #twilight

[mytwilightimagines13]

Memories from the past (Part Four)(Caius Volturi)

Word count: 1374

“Volterra? Alice, Edward where in the bloody hell are you taking me?” my anxiety and impatience had reached its peak. Alice shot me a reassuring smile that felt like it had a hint of sympathy mixed in it. “The place for all your answers. Like we promised. So, if you could please answer my questions now?” Edward asked as we got into a car. Alice took the wheel and made the car drive away with a roaring engine. “No chance.” I said as I looked outside the window. A sigh escaped his lips as Alice was weaving, too fast, through the thick airport traffic—sliding through tiny spaces between the cars. As I watched out the window I saw the first the city of Florence and then the Tuscan landscape flashing by with blurring speed. This was my first trip anywhere, and maybe my last, too. I had no idea where these two… creatures where taking me, but Alice's driving frightened me. Different thoughts made a speed run through my mind. Almost anything that these two might be flashed before my eyes yet nothing seemed to make sense. At the same time I was too tortured with anxiety to really see the hills or the walled towns that looked like castles in the distance, making me jump up a little when they started to speak again. "Do you see anything more?" Edward asked "There's something going on," Alice muttered. "Some kind of festival. The streets are full of people and red flags. What's the date today?" I wasn't entirely sure. "The nineteenth, maybe?" "Well, that's ironic. It's Saint Marcus Day." "Which means?" She chuckled darkly. "The city holds a celebration every year. As the legend goes, a Christian missionary, a Father Marcus drove all the vampires from Volterra fifteen hundred years ago. The story claims he was martyred in Romania, still trying to drive away the vampire scourge. Of course that's nonsense—he's never left the city. But that's where some of the superstitions about things like crosses and garlic come from. Father Marcus used them so successfully. And vampires don't trouble Volterra, so they must work." Her smile was sardonic. "It's become more of a celebration of the city, and recognition for the police force—after all, Volterra is an amazingly safe city. The police get the credit." I wasn’t sure if she was being ironic or not. But something, deep within me, told me she wasn’t. A small red car seemed to be racing backward as Alice zoomed around it. "There," Alice said abruptly, pointing to the castle city atop the closest hill. I stared at it, feeling the very first hint of a new kind of feeling. The feeling of anxiety still present. And yet, now, as I stared at the ancient sienna walls and towers crowning the peak of the steep hill, I felt another, more selfish feeling fell over me. The feeling of complete peace.

We began the steep climb and the road grew congested. As we wound higher, the cars became too close together for Alice to weave insanely between them anymore. We slowed to a crawl behind a little tan Peugeot. The cars continued to edge forward, one car length at a time. The sun beamed down brilliantly, seeming already overhead. The cars crept one by one toward the city. As we got closer, I could see cars parked by the side of the road with people getting out to walk the rest of the way. At first I thought it was just impatience—something I could easily understand. But then we came around a switchback, and I could see the filled parking lot outside the city wall, the crowds of people walking through the gates. No one was being allowed to drive through. Now that I was looking, and we were crawling slowly enough to see, I could tell that it was very windy. The people crowding toward the gate gripped their hats and tugged their hair out of their faces. Their clothes billowed around them. I also noticed that the colour red was everywhere. Red shirts, red hats, red flags dripping like long ribbons beside the gate, whipping in the wind—as I watched, the brilliant crimson scarf one woman had tied around her hair was caught in a sudden gust. It twisted up into the air above her, writhing like it was alive. She reached for it, jumping in the air, but it continued to flutter higher, a patch of bloody colour against the dull, ancient walls. “I am trying to get as close to the clock tower as possible. That is the place for all your answers. And hopefully ours as well.” Alice said as she was near the front of the line. A man in a navy blue uniform was directing the flow of traffic, turning the cars away from the full lot. I looked at her in confusion. Surely the walk up wasn’t that far? And apart from the wind it seemed like a nice day, the sun was shining brightly and I was dying to get out of this car. “Can we not just walk to the clock tower?” I asked as I watched the other cars U-turn and headed back to find a place beside the road. “Better not.” Edward said. Then it was Alice's turn. The uniformed man motioned lazily, not paying attention. Alice accelerated, edging around him and heading for the gate. He shouted something at us, but held his ground, waving frantically to keep the next car from following our bad example. The man at the gate wore a matching uniform. As we approached him, the throngs of tourists passed, crowding the sidewalks, staring curiously at the pushy, flashy Porsche. The guard stepped into the middle of the street. Alice angled the car carefully before she came to a full stop. She swiftly reached behind the seat and grabbed something from her bag. The guard came around the car with an irritated expression, and tapped on her window angrily. She rolled the window down halfway, and I watched him do a double take when he saw the face behind the dark glass. "I'm sorry, only tour buses allowed in the city today, miss," he said in English, with a heavy accent. He was apologetic, now, as if he wished he had better news for the strikingly beautiful woman. "It's a private tour," Alice said, flashing an alluring smile. She reached her hand out of the window, into the sunlight. She took his hand, still raised from tapping her window, and pulled it into the car. She put something into his palm, and folded his fingers around it. His face was dazed as he retrieved his hand and stared at the thick roll of money he now held. The outside bill was a thousand dollar bill. "Is this a joke?" he mumbled. Alice's smile was blinding. "Only if you think it's funny." Did she just bribe him? Bloody hell. I am an idiot for agreeing to this trip. Maybe the answers to what had happened to my mother before she took her life no longer seemed important, as I was sure I would die once I knew those answers. The police officer looked at her, his eyes staring wide. Should I shout? Tell him they were dangerous? My Italian wasn’t too bad. I could try. "I'm in a wee bit of a hurry," Alice hinted, still smiling and taking me out of my

thoughts. The guard blinked twice, and then shoved the money inside his vest. He took a step away from the window and waved us on. None of the passing people seemed to notice the quiet exchange. Alice drove into the city, parking the car as close to the clock tower as possible. I got out of the car and took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of sunlight hitting the ancient stones, hoping this would not be the last time I would smell this scent. The calming feeling slowly winning it from the anxiety. For now.

“Brother, sister, calm yourselves please.” The man with raven like hair spoke. “She is here.” Was all the man got in response, a sigh escaping his lips.

#caius volturi #athenodora volturi #volturi #volturi imagine #twilight imagine #twilight #vampire

[spartanguard]

partners

summary: SVU detective Emma Swan's new partner is not what she expected. Thankfully, that's a good thing.

A/n: So I've been watching a LOT of Law & Order: SVU lately and when I got to the episodes where Stabler was partnered with Dani Beck, it just smacked with CS feels. This is just a bit of exploration of that, in honor of @optomisticgirl​ ‘s birthday!!

B—HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Thank you for being the most amazing friend, and the best person to bounce crazy fic ideas off of (like this). I hope you have the most amazing day and I love you!!!!

Note: While there isn't any actual sexual violence in this story, it is an SVU AU, so it's mentioned.

rated T | 2.3k words | AO3

She met him while he was trying to arrest a perp who’d just walked.

“Are you Detective Swan?” he’d asked, and she immediately noticed his accent—the way it wrapped around her last name in a way that sent a shiver down her spine, but it was hard to tell if it was in a good way or not.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she tossed back.

“I’m your new partner. Killian Jones.”

She shook his offered hand (only later noticing he only had the one) and wondered—just what the hell were they about to get into?

[He was her second new partner in as many weeks. Graham, who she’d worked with since she joined the unit, had enough with special victims—with Boston in general—and had taken up some smalltown sheriff gig in Maine. Emma knew he’d be happier there, but it kind of left her in the lurch. They’d sent someone new over the week before, but her style didn’t gel with Mulan’s quite well enough—the woman was a damn fine detective but just...too different.]

Jones was new to special victims, transferring in on the recommendation of the captain at his previous precinct, where he’d worked in homicide. The dead victims, he was used to; the live ones—not so much.

It was pretty obvious on their first case together, when they were interviewing the young girl in the hospital. Emma—she’d seen enough of the world’s shitty side that little phazed her any more; growing up in the foster system made her uniquely suited to this line of work.

But Killian? He was visibly upset; she had to physically restrain him from running out of the hospital to start tracking down the culprit, holding him back by the sleeve of his leather jacket. They hardly had a lead on this. Something could be said for enthusiasm, but that didn’t excuse jumping ahead of themselves. That’s how you got into trouble—that was how criminals got away with murder (literally); she’d done that enough for the both of them, and had a feeling he had, too.

She felt they had a lot in common, actually; there was an obvious affinity for leather coats, but past that, there was something familiar in his eyes. Not that she’d met him before, or anything—just something in the determined set of his gaze when interviewing a suspect, in the empathetic way he handled the victim.

She still wasn’t sure if that was good or not, especially when he almost forgot protocol—almost lost them evidence—by rushing in too soon.

And she was half ready to walk into Captain Mills’ office to request a new partner (again) when she found him asleep at his desk with what could only be described as a murderboard spread out behind him. He looked younger and softer in his sleep, impossibly gorgeous with the way his long lashes rested on his cheekbones and gentle breaths from his full lips—and none of that was really pertinent, because the man had just researched his way to a solved case.

“Just who are you, Killian Jones?” she asked when she later woke him up with coffee and a bear claw (biting back a comment on the rumpled state of his usually pristine waistcoat-and-dress shirt combo).

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he drawled, holding her gaze intently before taking a long pull from his cup.

She knew she shouldn’t, but damn, did she.

It wasn’t until a couple cases later that she began to put together the pieces of him. It had been a doozy of a kidnapping, and he’d been on edge the whole time—right until they finally tracked down the little boy who’d been abducted. Emma slapped the cuffs on the miserable excuse for a father who’d taken him and Killian pulled the boy into his arms, visibly deflating once he knew he was safe.

She dragged him to their unit’s favorite bar that night and slid a glass of rum in front of him, along with the directive to “Talk.”

He downed it in one shot, then worried his bottom lip (much to Emma’s distraction) before saying, “Have I mentioned I have a daughter?”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but she let him explain without interruption. Her name was Alice; she was 8. He had sole custody, and with good reason: her mother, his ex-girlfriend, had kidnapped her from his apartment when she was only a few years old. “It’s the most scared I’ve ever been,” he confessed. “And today...it’s like I was right back in that moment.”

“I don’t blame you,” she replied, then finished her own whiskey. This was probably where she should drop some of her own tragic backstory, right? Like the scumbag who left her pregnant at 17, and the baby boy she put up for adoption? “Props to you for doing it on your own. I obviously couldn't.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, love; you gave him his best chance.” He gently set his hand over hers on the bar and she froze; not because he was cold—quite the opposite, actually—but between that tiny gesture of support and the understanding in those too-blue eyes, she felt more seen than she had by anyone in ages, even Graham.

It was suddenly too much, too intimate, and she yanked her hand away and ordered another drink. “Is your ex the name on your tattoo?” she asked, trying to put some space in between them (physically and emotionally).

It worked. He sat back up and tugged his right sleeve down with his prosthesis, hiding the ink, and she could almost see the walls go back up between them. “No. That’s...another story. For another time.” He stood and tossed some cash on the counter. “Alice is with my neighbor; I better go get her. See you ‘round.” And he left hastily.

It was what she wanted to happen. He’d suddenly gotten too close. So why did she feel like such an ass about it?

She was going to apologize at their next shift, but they got thrown into another case. And then another after it. It was a different kind of intense—a different kind of intimate—than that moment in the bar; very quickly, she had to trust him, and vice versa. That was something neither were predisposed to, but were managing to do...honestly, better than she had with anyone.

After putting another rapist behind bars, Killian said with a smirk, “I don’t mean to upset you, Swan, but I think we make quite the team.” And he winked (well, tried to), and she just blushed back, like she was a teenager in love all over again. That fact that would normally send her running but, for the first time in years, she wasn’t opposed to it—except for, y’know, the fact that he was her partner and they were coworkers and HR generally looked down on that kind of thing.

She doubted he was interested, anyway. They hadn’t really done anything outside of work since that night; he was always quick to get home to Alice, and she didn’t fault him that—especially when she finally met the kid, who was clearly her father’s daughter in all the best ways.

They got a call for a case late one weeknight; Emma easily beat him to the scene, since he had to make sure his neighbor could watch Alice at such an ungodly hour. She handed him a coffee when he got there and they made their way to the ME, to get the rundown on the vic. 

Emma had been paying attention, but it shifted from the examiner to Killian pretty quickly; he stiffened at the description of what had been done to the victim, then when white as the sheet covering her when it was pulled back.

“Eloise,” he whispered, like he’d seen a ghost.

“Wait—as in…?”

He nodded. “Aye. Alice’s mum.”

“Shit.”

They got what little information they could from the scene and then started to head for the precinct, but he was shaking so much, she insisted on driving.

“Are you gonna be alright?” she asked.

He let out a hollow chuckle. “No, probably not.” Then, one long breath later, “It was Gold.”

She nearly missed their turn at that. “Gold? As in, the mysterious Mr. Gold, owner of the pawn store chain?”

“One and the same,” Killian said, scrubbing a hand down his face. “It’s the same as with Milah.”

She would have asked who that was, but he was resting his prosthesis over the spot on his arm where she knew the tattoo was. And she got a sinking feeling in her stomach that this was going to be a rough case.

Once they got to the office (and she got some more coffee in him), Killian explained: Milah was his ex, his first love—but also Gold’s wife. And while Gold was well-known for being a shady individual, no one had ever been able to pin anything on him.

But Gold did find out about their affair, and Killian came home one day to find Milah—dead, attacked and killed in the same way Eloise had been hours ago. He wasn’t sure what their connection was—and he didn’t think Gold knew about his to Eloise, especially since she’d only been released from jail last week—“But I know it’s him. And I’m going to prove it this time.”

(Apparently, last time had ended with him getting into an altercation with one of Gold’s lackeys. He escaped with his life, but not with his left hand.)

Milah’s case had gone cold, but given the similarities, they were able to pull the files. It took a few weeks—several late nights, more than a few breakdowns, many tears (mostly Killian’s, but Emma’s and Alice’s as well) before they finally—finally—had the evidence to pin both murders on Gold.

Tracking him down was another thing altogether, but they finally caught up with him in his penthouse apartment. To no one’s surprise, he didn’t go willingly; a fistfight broke out between he and Killian. 

She was scared she’d have to intervene, knowing how personal it was. By the end of it, Killian had a black eye and a bloody lip, but Gold was in handcuffs, tossed unceremoniously in the back of a squad car. 

Killian watched the vehicle pull away, then turned to Emma, and wrapped his arms around her in a bruising hug. 

In any other situation, she would have gone stiff with shock, but she didn’t hesitate to lean right into him. Her desire to comfort him after that was just as strong as his need for comfort. 

But then he pulled back, cupped her cheek, and pressed his lips to hers. 

That did take her by surprise. 

But she was equally quick to reciprocate. 

Just as fast, it was over and he was walking away, leaving her utterly confused. Logically, she knew it was probably just an emotional reaction—a one-time thing. 

However: he kissed her like he meant it. She was familiar with empty kisses and single-night flings—and that...was a whole lot more. 

And she couldn’t deny it any longer: she wanted that more. 

She arrived at the precinct early the next morning, hoping to beat him there so they could talk about whatever that had been. She’d even gotten up an hour before she usually did so she could get them good coffee. But he was already there, filling out forms at his desk. 

“Hey,” she said, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward as she put the cup on his desk. “You taking care of the reports?”

“Um, yeah,” he stammered, pointedly focusing on the paperwork and not her. 

She glanced down at the desk, and that wasn’t a report—that was a transfer form. “You want to leave?” she whispered, the familiar pain of betrayal washing over her. He didn’t want to be her partner anymore? 

“Emma, I can’t stay here,” he said, only somewhat apologetic. (Also, though she didn’t realize it at the moment, it was the first time he’d used her given name.) “After this last case...it just wouldn’t be good form.”

“Fuck your good form, Jones!” she cried. “How can you say that, after everything these past few months? After last night?”

Calmly, he stood up and moved into her space. “I can’t be your partner any more, Emma,” he said, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear. “Because I want to be more than that. And last I checked, Captain Mills frowned upon inter-unit relations.”

That was true; she really did, more than most. But then the reality of what Killian was saying hit: “You...you’d give up your position for me?”

“Aye,” he answered, simply, like it wasn’t the heaviest thing anyone had ever told her. 

What else was she supposed to do after a confession like that but kiss him? She rose up on her toes, gripped the lapels of his waistcoat, and found his lips with hers. He didn’t hesitate to pull her close and she was exceedingly glad no one else was in the squad room, because she’d never quite been kissed so closely to within an inch of her life as she’d been then.

(Also, it was a good thing no one was around when he pushed her onto his desk to deepen it further. If Captain Mills later noticed the forms were a bit crumpled, she didn’t say anything.) 

Killian ended up transferring back to his old precinct, old job. It turned out they missed him. Emma knew exactly why; her next partner, David, was great, but no match. 

Good thing she got to go home to Killian—and Alice—every night. 

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

thanks for reading, and send B all the birthday love! tagging some others:

@kat2609​ @thesschesthair​  @xpumpkindumplingx​ t @cocohook38​ @annytecture​ @shireness-says​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @wingedlioness​ @word-bug​ @thisonesatellite​ @distant-rose​ @wellhellotragic​ @welllpthisishappening​ @let-it-raines​ @pirateherokillian​ @its-imperator-furiosa​ @fergus80​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @ineffablecolors​ @laschatzi​ @ive-always-been-a-pirate​  @stubblesandwich​​ @phiralovesloki​ @athenascarlet​ @kmomof4​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​ @searchingwardrobes​ @donteattheappleshook​

#cs ff #cs modern au #cs detective au #happy birthday #optomisticgirl #my ff

[lesbianlotties]

Journeys end in lovers meeting - Sam/Deena - Bly Manor AU

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Sarah Fier/Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Christine "Ziggy" Berman/Nick Goode, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street), Deena Johnson, Kate Schmidt (Fear Street), Simon Kalivoda, Josh Johnson (Fear Street), Constance (Fear Street Part 3: 1666), Christine "Ziggy" Berman, Nick Goode (Fear Street), Alice (Fear Street Part 2: 1978), Sarah Fier (Fear Street), Hannah Miller (Fear Street), Solomon Goode (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, The Haunting of Bly Manor AU, Not Canon Compliant, Haunted Houses, Ghosts, Character Death, Minor Character Death, Canon Lesbian Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Au Pair Sam, Gardener Deena, Housekeeper Kate, Cook Simon, Josh and Constance as troubled kids, Ziggy and Nick in an unhealthy relationship, minor Cindy/Alice, Martin cameos, special appearances of all the Shadyside killers as ghosts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, The Rest Is Confetti Summary: The year is 1994. Samantha Fraser recently moved to Shadyside, and she desperately needs a job that will help her leave her troubled past behind. She starts working as au pair at Shadyside Manor, where she is not the only one tortured by ghosts. Grief, regrets, guilt, innocent victims, and an ancient curse. At the center of all of it... love.

Chapter 5: 

When Peter Brody died, all of Sunnyvale mourned. As a teenager, he had been the star of the football team and in a town like that, it meant he was a celebrity. He was loved, known, seen by everyone. Sam, on the other hand, had always lived under his shadow, where she had been cold and lonely but also stuck beyond salvation, she thought. Nobody knew her, nobody saw her. They all saw a small blonde-haired woman that men made fun of and women judged and Peter never really loved, did he? Had any of it been love?  

During Peter’s funeral, luckily, all eyes were still on him, on the closed coffin that is. The truck that hit him hadn’t exactly been forgiving. Sam didn’t mind. She preferred to go unnoticed most of the time but especially on the day she was dealing with the most conflicting emotions of her life. Peter was dead. Did she kill him? He could have killed her. Was this her fault? Her biggest source of pain was gone forever. Should it be her in that coffin? She could be free now. Why wasn’t she feeling sadness, pain, and grief? Why wasn’t the relief hitting either? She was just numb.

She was numb until the moment they were lowering his coffin to the ground. Everyone around her was crying and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from that awful hole on the ground. That is why she noticed, clear as day, the moment a hand, gray and dirty and stained with blood, reached out from the ground and out toward her. She stifled a small gasp and jumped in place, but nobody paid her any mind. Sam closed her eyes tightly and tried to convince herself it was just her mind playing tricks on her. She’d lived in fear of Peter’s hand for so long, it was reasonable that she couldn’t put it down in a matter of days.

So, Sam excused herself from the crowd, knowing nobody would care about her absence. Her mother was crying more than she cried at her ex-husband’s funeral, and more than she’d be crying if it was Sam in the coffin. At least, that’s what Sam thought. She walked away briskly until she could lean against a big tree in the middle of the Sunnyvale cemetery. She took breaths and tried to control her racing heart. This full-body panic wasn’t rare. She was just used to locking herself in the bathroom of the house she used to share with the deceased man.

This time, however, she was in public. She had to get a hold of herself quickly. That was what she had spent a lifetime learning to do. So she pulled out a small mirror from her clutch, knowing she better check her make-up before returning to her mother’s side. She was expected to cry but keep perfect make-up somehow. But, as soon as she saw her reflection in the mirror, Sam realized she had bigger problems. This time she really screamed. She screamed in terror and dropped the mirror and quickly turned around, but he was gone. The image of Peter, just an impossibly black shadow, lifeless and furious and with a bloodstained hand wrapped around Sam’s throat… he was gone. Quickly, Sam picked up the mirror again and didn’t see him. But she skipped the rest of the funeral, she ran all the way home, and in the living room’s mirror, he was right there, waiting for her. In the Sunnyvale school bathroom mirror, he was there. In the cars’ windows, in the stores’ fronts, everywhere she went, he was right there, haunting her all the way to Shadyside Manor.

Away from the house though, surrounded by nothing but damp grass and green trees and nothing showing her reflection back to her, Sam let her guard down. She was sitting around an impressive bonfire in the company of Deena, Kate, and Simon, along with a few bottles of wine they got from the Berman’s old reserve. “It’s not like they’ll be drinking it,” Simon had said.

The last addition to their small gathering was Tommy Slater. Uninvited. Unnoticed. At least, surrounded by those trees he looked a little more at home, with his red plaid shirt and the axe on his hand. He shifted from one foot to the other, as if considering taking a stroll around the gardens he used to love so much. But that wasn’t the case. He’d been there too long. He didn’t move purposefully anymore, he didn’t make any choices, he didn’t even have many thoughts anymore. He simply stood there in the background, in the shadows, in that property he couldn’t escape from.

Around the bonfire, with lively eyes, blushing cheeks and playful smiles, the employees of the Manor looked much more alive. Kate exchanged a knowing look with Simon and then turned her head toward the other two women sitting close by.

“Deena. Don’t you have some story you'd like to share with us?” Kate asked.

She had startled the gardener, who had been a little lost in thought looking at Sam. “Huh? What?” Deena shook her head, but a second later and aided by an exasperated look from Kate, she understood. “Oh, right. Um, actually, yeah,” Deena cleared her throat and then looked at Sam, regaining her usual confidence. “Hey, Sunnyvale, do you want to hear a ghost story?”

“Sure,” Sam shrugged. She was really cold, and still a little put off by the unpleasant memories that had been roaming her mind the entire day. But she smiled nonetheless. “But I think I told you I’m not scared of ghost stories,” she said. How could she be? Although he was a sincerely upsetting company to carry with her everywhere she went, Peter hadn’t hurt her after he died nearly as much as he had while being alive.

“Ah, but what if you found yourself inside of one of those stories?” Deena asked.

“Okay, humor me.”

“Look up,” Deena nodded her head and the four of them looked up at the big tree next to them with branches that reached above their heads. “This is the hanging tree,” Deena said. “Back in the day, before there was Shadyside and Sunnyvale, and junk food and pretty au pairs, there was the settlement of Union. A pretty crappy place run by religious hysteria. They had the bad habit of accusing women of witchcraft. This is the place where they used to hang their witches. Right here, on this same tree.”

A cold breeze passed by, making the sudden silence even more noticeable. Sam shivered and her teeth clattered. “That’s not supernatural though,” she said. “That’s just cruelty, and ignorance.”

“And that’s without mentioning the ones they burned alive,” Simon added, taking a big swing of his wine bottle.

“Simon!” Kate chastised him, slapping his arm.

“What?! It’s true!” he laughed.

At least it proved they could come and go seamlessly from serious and lighthearted moods.

“Hey, they had their reasons,” Deena said, taking the others by surprise. “They used to say that burning a witch was the only way to guarantee she wouldn’t come back to haunt you afterward.”

A bitter chuckle came from Kate. “I know I got a few names I’d like to burn down,” she said.

“Care to share?” Deen tilted her head, intrigued.

Kate’s face had grown serious very suddenly, and she stood up from her seat.

“For Christine Berman,” She said, and everyone listened intently. “Not that I want to burn her memory, not that I don't wish she’d come back… This is in her honor. A brilliant, courageous, simply incomparable woman… with just one stupid fucking weakness. She deserved better than that man. I won’t even say his name. That disgusting man that consumed her away… Now that’s someone I wish I could burn alive.”

“Cheers!” Simon raised his bottle, and everyone followed suit.

Deena stood up next. “For the Bermans. Those good, stupidly kind people,” she said. “For Cindy, especially. And everything she could have been… For as long as she could she was a really, really great mother. More than that, too. She was the heart of this entire place, and she was there for everyone, not just her family or, well, she made all of us family, really. And… Anyway, I think she would be happy to have Sam Fraser join us. This sweet, Sunnyvale weirdo. Cindy would be happy she’s looking after her daughter.”

After she finished, Deena let herself fall back heavily on her chair. While everyone drank for the dearly missed couple, she managed to regain her composure. When she looked at Sam again, her usual easy smile was back in place.

“What about you, Sunnyvale? Anything you want to burn?”

“Me?” Sam said. Through her mind flashed the small group of people that had affected her most throughout her life. What could she talk about? The dead father she barely remembers and still misses? The living mother angry at her that she’s still avoiding? Or the dead ex-fiance she feels responsible for and she’s still scared of? “No, thank you. I’m okay,” Sam shook her head.

Maybe they didn’t need more of an excuse to drink. Maybe her silence was more than enough. Still, when Deena, Kate, and Simon, despite her silence, raised their wine bottles to their lips to drink. Sam felt the comfort of genuine solidarity and understanding like she had never experienced before.

Before the silence could stretch for too long, Simon stood up. “Are you sure?” Kate whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. He squeezed her hand once, then let go and took a step forward.

“So… my mom. She’s, uh, not someone I’d wish to burn alive, obviously,” Simon said, and added a feeble chuckle, but he went on. “But fuck, she deserved to rest already. She lived a long life, and not an easy one. But she was stronger than this entire town, and sweeter than any drug, funnier than me, if you can believe it, and beautiful as an angel until the very last day.” He stopped briefly, and his smile wavered. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging a little harder than necessary, and after a deep breath, he managed to continue. “Her mind, well, it was stopped working as it should a while ago, you know? I was her son, her brother, her father, and sometimes I was a complete stranger… but she was still my mom, always. So… here’s to everything she was, and everyone I had to be for her.”

--

After Peter died, Sam considered moving back in with her mother. It sounded like a nightmare, but a reasonable choice to make, she thought. However, her mother never did or said anything to suggest Sam would be even remotely welcome in her home. So, Sam stayed in that picture-perfect Sunnyvale house. A faultless home except for the fact that Peter was dead and Sam would soon follow suit if he didn’t stop showing up behind her reflection in every mirror she glanced at.

Sam felt hopeless, not free as she had wished to be for so long. She felt terrified, not much more than when Peter was alive, but certainly not any less. She had been starting to worry about what the rest of her life was going to look like. She had been hoping for a miracle, an act of kindness from anybody. And that was when Peter’s mother had knocked on her door. For a moment, Sam had let herself dream of a scenario where that woman showed up with worry in her gentle eyes, a dinner invitation, and a much-needed hug. But that wasn’t Peter’s mother.

Mrs. Brody was, if anything, Sam’s biggest nightmare. A particularly cruel mixture of Peter and Sam’s own mother. Her eyes were cold, she probably would have tried to poison Sam, and they had never hugged for longer than a second. That woman had spent roughly twenty years accusing Sam of taking her son away from her. When Peter’s mother showed up at Sam’s door, it wasn’t to offer any kindness, it was to request Sam start packing her stuff and looking for a place to live, because Peter was dead, they never got married, and that house was no longer hers.

A week later, Sam was living in a Shadyside hostel.

A few months later, Sam was in the middle of the dark and beautiful gardens of Shadyside Manor, walking away from a bonfire and two of her coworkers, her friends .

Most importantly, Sam was walking away with Deena by her side. “Are they going to be okay?” Sam asked the gardener.

“Oh yeah,” Deena nodded confidently. “Getting wasted and reminiscing about the past is part of their daily routine actually.”

Sam smiled, but then Deena met her eyes and matched her smile and Sam had to remind herself to breathe. So she turned away briskly and continued to walk. Deena was kind enough not to laugh at her.

A couple of minutes later the two women had arrived at the greenhouse. It was clearly the place Deena felt most at home in. There were plants on every surface, plants of all kinds and in many different states of health. There wasn’t a lack of personal touches though. There was more than one stray jacket left behind, occasional snack wrappers, books, cups, and more. It looked like Deena spent more time there than at the house in her own room. Then there was the bench where she invited Sam to sit. The closest thing to a couch that could stand the conditions of the greenhouse. It had comfortable cushions on top, a blanket, and Sam caught sight of a sweater that Deena quickly tried to tuck away. The image of Deena taking naps in there to avoid life at the manor was enough to make Sam smile.

“This is nice,” Sam said. “It feels like you have a little bit of everything here.”

Deena shrugged. “I’d add … a drum kit, if I could,” she confessed.

“Really?” Sam wondered, getting a little more comfortable in her seat. “You play drums?”

“For a while, when I was a teen,” Deena replied. She was thoughtful for a moment but, looking at Sam’s face, she seemed to make an important decision. “One of the foster homes where I lived in had a drumkit. It was a good outlet for when life was shit but… I haven’t played since then. I was never able to afford one myself and, anyway, it doesn’t bring up the best memories.”

“Oh,” Sam mumbled, staring at her lap. Suddenly she missed the bottle of wine she had been carrying with her. She couldn’t even remember where she left it. She only wanted to find something good to say, but Deena beat her to it.

“Now’s your turn.”

“What?” Sam finally looked at her.

“Tell me something real, if you want,” Deena smiled at her. “I’d recommend starting with what’s bothering you so much that you finished a wine bottle but you’re still pale as if you’d just come back from the dead.”

Sam laughed, closed her eyes, and leaned against the back of the seat. Of course she had finished that bottle. Of course those memories did nothing but hurt her. Of course Deena would notice, and of course Deena could find a way to ask an impossible question and still make Sam want to speak up her impossible answer.

“The windows,” Sam finally replied and opened her eyes.

“What?” Deena frowned. She was as drunk as Sam, but that answer didn’t explain anything at all.

“All kinds of mirrors really,” Sam continued. “I, uh, sometimes I… I see things… that aren’t there. But they feel, um, they are real, to me. I think. I mean, I know they are. Even if it sounds crazy.”

“What kind of things do you see?” Deena asked her.

Sam blinked. She wasn’t expecting Deena to go along with it, and she wasn’t prepared or sober enough to come up with a lie. “My dead ex-boyfriend,” she said, and didn’t give Deena much time to process that information. “He wasn’t a good guy, he… He wasn’t good… at all. But we, I mean, I tried or, I guess I did, I… I broke up… with him. It was, um, right before he… died.”

“Jesus, Sam, the same day?” Deena wondered.

“Yeah,” the blonde nodded sadly. “But I guess he hasn’t let me go yet.”

Deena bit her lip and tried her hardest to find the right thing to say. There was a lot she wanted to ask, but there were more important things at the moment. “That sounds typical,” Deena said.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, sounding genuinely tired, but more and more relieved with each passing second.

“I mean… only a Sunnyvale jerk wouldn’t get what a breakup is,” Deena said. She had been holding her breath, but when she saw Sam smile a little, she relaxed. “Like, get over it dude! She’s Shadyside property now,” Deena added, looking around the greenhouse with her best menacing tone.

Sam couldn’t contain her chuckle, but she was back to looking down at her lap. “You’re not making fun of me, are you?” She inquired.

“Sam,” Deena called her name, and waited until Sam was staring into her eyes to continue. “I’ve lived with that hanging tree over my head for years. Ghosts are… complicated, I guess, but nothing to joke about, are they?” She was worried she wasn’t making much sense, but she was genuinely trying her best. Sam shook her head softly, agreeing with her, but her eyes weren’t all that focused on ghosts, and loss, and the past anymore. “I think it’s a matter of understanding-”

All at once, Sam was kissing Deena. She had just leaned in, connected their lips, interrupted Deena with a kiss they had been dying for. At first, Deena’s shock didn’t allow her to do much, but when she caught up, when she made sense of the sweet taste of Sam, the warm press of her lips, the reality of a dream coming true right before her, she reacted. Her hands moved carefully to Sam’s face, as if afraid to break her, but she slowly pushed back. She saw the moment Sam’s blue eyes fluttered open again, and that sight alone was more than enough to steal Deena’s heart.

“Are you sure?” Deena asked her.

Sam couldn’t fight the need to glance around them, just to make sure there weren’t unwanted shadows staring at her from a corner, but there was nothing. They were alone. This moment was completely hers. “Yes,” she replied with a smile, and whatever Deena had tried to say aftward, Sam interrupted her with a kiss, but Deena didn’t seem to mind at all.

They kissed with perfect excitement, their lips were eager, and they tasted of wine, and the first touch of Deena’s tongue on her bottom lip stole a whimper from Sam. They moved closer together, and their restless hands gained confidence. Everything was happening at once, they were in a hurry, they were taking their time, they had only a second, they had all the time in the world. Sam's hand was on Deena’s shoulder, grabbing a fistful of her green jacket, pulling her closer. Deena’s hand was getting lost in Sam’s blonde ponytail, holding her in place, driving her crazy. Every second their kisses renewed and grew in passion, with Deena’s tongue pulling shivers out of Sam, and Sam’s teeth biting down on Deena’s bottom lip, overjoyed to take the other woman by surprise.

It was an accident, though. Sam didn’t really mean to open her eyes when she did. But by the time she realized what had happened, it was too late and the damage was done. She opened her eyes and right there behind Deena, with his monstrous head almost on her shoulder, was Peter. Peter the shadow, the ghost, the darkness, the demon, the ruin of Sam’s entire life.

She gasped and jumped back and away from Deena as if she’d received some kind of lethal shock.

“Fuck,” the two of them said. They were breathless, confused, and hurt. There was a sudden and unbreachable distance between. They were completely alone in the greenhouse.

--

Less than an hour later, and wearing her pajamas, Sam was storming out of her bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the manor. Her thoughts were messier than ever, and only half of it was because of the wine. There was a lot going on in her mind, a lot she couldn’t erase, understand, or even acknowledge. There was a lifetime of expectations and lies that she had endured for too long. There was a kiss from a captivating gardener that wasn’t supposed to be so sweet. There was Deena standing up, apologizing, apologizing as if anything would have possibly been her fault, and walking away from Sam without once looking back. There was a pair of teenagers that jumped out of their beds at that ungodly hour just to make her waste five minutes in the hallway, listening to them explain some genuinely unsettling dreams until they agreed to let her go. Underneath it all, there was one thought standing out from the rest though. Unfair. That’s what Sam thought of it all. It wasn’t fair that she had to deal with that much, since she was a little girl. It wasn’t fair that even after dying Peter still controlled her. It wasn’t fair that she’d found the most incredible person and potentially ruined it all because of her fear.

But, at last, Sam had made it back to the hanging tree, back to the dying embers of the bonfire, which she hoped were strong enough to burn one last memory. She wasn’t alone, of course. Behind her, Ryan Torrest had observed her walk past him. He could barely change his expression anymore, but he looked as concerned as he was capable of. He raised his right hand in front of him to study the knife he still carried. He almost wished he could pass it to the clearly distressed woman, but there was no use. He couldn’t do anything, his knife wasn’t really capable of causing harm to ghosts, no matter how many times he had tested it before on himself. Besides, that woman had to face her ghosts by herself, and this one was a different kind of ghost than the manor's habitants.

A few feet in front of Sam, Peter’s ghost stood. He was just his shadow, just pure darkness resembling his shape, with just enough details for Sam to be able to see the hatred in his eyes. “ I can’t marry you, Peter, ” she had said. “ I don’t love you, I can’t, not you, not any man ,” she had added in an impulsive attempt to appease his already explosive anger. “ I’m sorry! I didn’t ask for this, Peter! Don’t hurt me, please, ” was the last she said to him. Before he raised his arm, before he took a step backward, before the truck hit him.

“What the hell, Peter?” Sam said, facing the silent ghost under the hanging tree.

There was no answer.

“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?” Sam insisted.

The ghost didn’t speak, didn’t move, didn’t react.

“You don’t scare me anymore, Peter,” Sam said, not yelling anymore.

The dark, human-shaped mass only stood there, ominous but immobile.

“You can’t take anything else from me, you know?” Sam sighed.

The woman was just so tired, and the ghost couldn’t do anything, could he?

“If you think you can still hurt me then go for it. Do it, Peter, I don’t care anymore. Kill me, if that’s what you want, but get it over with. Because I’m done! Did you hear me? I’m done… I’m done… I’m not scared anymore. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

The embers left from the bonfire suddenly sparked back to life, burning away what had been left behind.

#hellooo important update please read comment share be my best friends #fear street #sameena #sam x deena #deena x sam #sam fraser #deena johnson #fs #fear street fanfiction #fear street movies #my fic

[stevevans]

champagne problems - j.p

so i’ve been listening to champagne problems on repeat, and that’s what inspired this fic. i’ll be completely honest with y’all and say that this fic doesn’t really resemble the song, but it was inspired by it. 

summary: life and love don’t always mix. 

pairings: james potter x reader

warnings: mild cursing, kissing, familial issues, angst, mild violence

category: angst and fluff

word count: 1,760 

Requests are always OPEN 

You had been effectively graduated from Hogwarts for seven days, one week. The summer of 1978 was deemed to be absolutely ‘perfect’ by James Potter.

Everyone was excited for the trip through the country, but you only had one thing on your mind. The mark your parents wanted you to get.

Being born in a Pureblood family, regardless of House meant you had values to uphold.

Growing up your Family ignored Pure-blood rhetoric, just wanting to raise you to be a kind, courageous and good person. Things changed somewhere along the way. You forgot when your Mother went from a happy, caref-free witch to bloodshot eyes and proper customs, her mark visible even under her dark clothes, the aura prominent.

Hogwarts sheltered you and your group of friends, kept you all safe from much of the war brewing outside.

It wasn’t until the Summer before your final year when you had to face the truth.

                             ╚═━��───━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╝ 

Dropping your bags by the door your Mother embraced you, taking in the smell of your hair. You could tell something was off, the Manor was silent, not a sound besides the scurrying of House Elves trying to grab your bags.

“My Dear! You’re here, please sit in the Parlor we have so much to discuss!”

You were confused, but followed your Mum until you could sit.

“I need you to listen very carefully. Your Father is at Malfoy Manor. We’ve joined the fight, and we as a family pledged our allegiance to the Dark Lord.”

Even with her careful speaking you were still in shock, your mouth hanging open, all you could think about was Sirius. How he got away, maybe you could too. Every thought abandoned your mind, swirling around like a Tornado as your Mother continued speaking,

“He wants you to get the mark. After you graduate, you will be expected to kneel before our Lord and thank him.”

You shook your head viciously, so hard you thought your head would spin.

“No!”

It came out harsh as you stood up, scraping the chair against the floors. Your palms hit the table as you looked up in anger.

“Is this why Malfoy kept trying to talk to me? Because my own Parents are now filthy Death-Eaters?!”

Your Mother stood up too, lifting your chin up to strike you, the breath leaving your body as your eyes filled with tears.

“You will not talk to me like that in my own home. Lucius is a wonderful man, and we had hoped you both would find your way to each other. The Potter’s boy is quite laughable, and we figured it would resolve itself on its own. Clearly we were wrong and you live in your Hogwarts fantasy world still. You will be listening to me, I just thought I would try and be nice. It seems you needed to learn the hard way. This is not up for debate.”

With those words she left swiftly, leaving you in a puddle of your own tears and questions.

                                  ╚═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╝

James Potter was the love of your life, that you knew.

Ever since you sat down beside him at the Gryffindor table at eleven you knew he would be it for you. A lopsided grin and tousled hair, that was your James.

As time wore on you both just fell together. As you both grew, so did the love you share. Setting your relationship in stone was never important, you were James and Y/N, that’s how it always was.

Until one day in 6th year, when Lucius Malfoy approached you, the same smirk he always wore embedded in his face.

“What do you want?” Your tongue had always been sharp, especially for such a bully as he was.

“Wait to go tell him off love!” James was laughing, getting Sirius and Peter to join in on his laughter as you rejected Malfoy.

Suddenly his hand brushed the hair from your face, his smirk softening,

“Little Lamb caught in the crossfire. I see I’m bothering, I was just hoping you’d accompany me to dinner with my family one night?”

You sneered, throwing daggers at him, “Never in a million years.”

“My dear y/n, sometimes words have a way of backfiring on us.” He always acted as if he had something over you, but his posture quickly straightened back up and his hand left your proximity,

“Have a good night Y/Ns, enjoy your time.”

With that he was gone and you were confused. When you looked up, James was gone, the two boys shrugging as Remus pointed to the exit.

You went to search for James, the pit of despair in your stomach growing with every step you took.

“James Fleamont Potter if you don’t come here!” You yelled, exasperatedly, throwing your arms up in a huff.

“Why did you talk to him?!” It was less of a question, more of an angry accusation.

“James what?” you were confused now, who was he talking about?

“Malfoy! You spoke to him for more time than we agreed on talking to stupid Pure-blood Supremacists! We all agreed 5 minutes or less, no more.” His arms crossed over his chest as you stared in disbelief.

“James what? Did you not listen to the conversation? He was trying to ask me out and I said no.” James grinded your gears more than anyone else you knew, his face turning with thoughts.

“Be my Girlfriend.” He spoke casually now, his shoulders dropping all of the anger he had, his expression softening.

“Wait what?” You sighed in disbelief,

“You heard me. Nobody, especially not Pureblood scum will ask you out if you’re officially my Girlfriend. I originally assumed I didn’t have to ask you out, since everyone knows we're together.” That was the first you’d heard of it.

“Do you need me to spell it out l/n?” As he spoke his next sentence he got closer with every step,

“Be.My.Girlfriend.”

“I was jealous of Malfoy, and I know we're already together, I mean Godric was practically married, but I got so angry seeing him with you, and I want to be with you, officially, right now. You’re my girl, and I want everyone to know officially.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, nodding. You had been so upset with him, for no reason, but it had all melted away with the simple question of being his. You were his, you wanted to be his.

“Of course. I was waiting.” You closed the space between the both of you, your lips on his as you pulled James your boyfriend deeply into the kiss. 

                                 ╚═━────━▒ ۞ ▒━────━═╝

Dorcas Meadows, Marlene McKinnon, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, you and James Potter were on your summer vacation.

Driving down the winding roads in one car with a nifty enlarging spell as your friends argued over the muggle music played while you and James sang along to it all.

He had insisted on driving, you in the passenger seat beside him, holding onto his free hand. All you could do was smile as you took him in, the love of your life.

You feel sick most of the time, looking at all of your Best friends, your scared best friends, the ones who fear for their life and fear for the future, and you feel sick. There was a war bubbling, almost ready to explode.

None of them knew the secret you were keeping. They all kept James’ secret though.

It had been two weeks of non stop traveling and fun for all of you, the journey ending in one last night in the middle of a field, a campfire with all of your friends around it. A few bottles of champagne shared amongst all of you.

It had to be around midnight when James stood up tipsily, holding out his hand to you, that same grin on his face as he begged you to dance.

So you took his hand, your hands taking his as he pulled you closer, your head resting on his shoulder.

You wanted to stay like that forever, your friends laughing in the background as you danced to the sounds of crackling fire, the wind and Lily and Alice making fun of you two for being ‘disgustingly adorable!’

“I love you.”

“I know dear.”

“No I really, really love you.” His pocket was too heavy all of the sudden, as he pulled away. “Like the I love you more than I love Quidditch, and more than my Cloak which I totally used to spy on you when we were in 5th year.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, what in Godric’s name was he doing?

“James what?”

“Let me speak woman! I love you.”

“James I know that but what are you talking abou-” He interrupted you, something he was notorious for. As your heart grew heavier with anxiety, he became more confident, the champagne padding his words.

“I love you more than I love getting into trouble, and more than messing with Snape. I love you more than crunching leaves in the Fall, more than every single time I wiped a smirk off of Minnie’s face, I love you Y/N. I am completely and utterly in love with you.”

“James no, please.” Your voice was small, begging him to stop. You couldn’t take this. Your heart cracking.

He pulled out a box, shaking. Pulling it open as he dropped to a knee in the field his eyes looked up to you, a grin on his face, tears filling in his eyes.

It was his Mum’s engagement ring. Euphemia Potter’s engagement ring that had been in the family for centuries, a gorgeous mix of stones set in a thinner style band. You had admired it when you met her, a knowing smile on her face as you complimented it.

“Even if there was no war, or no bad guy, or no promise for the future I would still be here, on my knee, asking you Y/F/N to marry me. Because I know, and this is one of the only things I can be sure of, is that I love you and I will love you for, forever. The only question is, will you? Will you love me for the rest of your days?”

You wanted to scream yes, to pull him up and kiss him until your lips were blue, hear all of your friends whoop and cheer for the two of you, but you dropped his hand, the tears falling from your face.

#james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter x you #harry potter au #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders x reader

[cherry-valentine]

Summer 2021 Anime Season

What I’m Watching:

Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid is one of the cutest, sweetest series I’ve seen in a while. The plot sounds rather dark, following a young duke who has been cursed by a witch so that anything he touches, from plants to animals to people, will die. Touching through clothes has the same effect. This naturally isolates him, to the point that his own family have shunned him and he’s forced to live in a separate home out in the woods, with only two servants who are kind (or crazy) enough to stay with him despite the danger. One is an elderly butler who takes on a fatherly role, and the other is the beautiful, busty maid named Alice. And this is where a show that could have gone really dark brightens up to an adorable romantic comedy. Alice is not the least bit afraid of the duke’s curse, and her teasing, cheerful disposition practically forces him to open up. Speaking of Alice, I really enjoy the way her character is handled. Just as the show could have gone dark, it also could have gone sexist and gross. Alice is very busty, as I mentioned, and the show does have some fanservice, but the WAY this fanservice is done makes all the difference. Alice is a flirty character who always seems to be an enthusiastic participant in whatever fanservice we see, rather than being an object to be leered at. She’s very much in control of her body and her sexuality, which I appreciated. Also, there’s a lot of restraint on display here. There are so many ways they could have ruined this by going too far, but they didn’t. The fanservice is restricted to some cleavage shots and Alice occasionally flipping up her own dress to display her stockings. It comes across more as “sexy fun times” than “male gaze oggling a woman”. Because Alice is an interesting and well-written character in her own right. On the surface, she’s unflappable, facing a dire situation with limitless patience and optimism. But we get a few small, brief glimpses of the emotional toll it all takes on her, which is refreshing. The duke himself is a fun character, forever flustered by Alice’s antics but clearly not wanting her to stop. There are some amusing side characters as well. The animation has been criticized quite a bit, as it’s CG. It’s not the best looking CG animation I’ve seen, but it’s far from the worst. For a simple, cute show like this, it’s fine. Recommended if you like romantic comedies with a somewhat dark setup.

Vanitas no Carte is based on a manga by the woman who did Pandora Hearts, so you have some basic idea of what you’re getting into: extravagant period costumes, gothic European scenery, dark and violent themes mixed with goofy humor, and a very complicated web of character relationships. This series features a vampire society that’s being plagued by “curses” which turn the vampires into mindless beasts that can only be saved by mercy killing them. That is, until a human named Vanitas shows up with the power to cure the “curse bearers” using a legendary book that most vampires doubted the existence of. He teams up with Noe, a kind and naive yet physically very strong vampire who has been tasked with finding said book and determining whether its power is real. The result is a bizarre buddy comedy with touches of gruesome violence and gorgeous art. Of the two protagonists, Noe is my favorite. He’s sweet and good-natured, naive but not stupid. He has a disturbing back story (as most of the characters do) but he can still look at the world with excitement and wonder. He also has a hilarious and adorable cat named Murr. Vanitas, on the other hand, is an insufferable asshole. And I don’t mean in the fun way. I mean he literally makes the show hard to watch when he’s onscreen. I normally like the smug bastard types in anime, but Vanitas really pushes the limits of my tolerance. In an early episode he forces a very deep, very long kiss on a woman he has rendered immobile and unable to defend herself, groping her all the while. I found the scene very troubling, and was even more troubled when I read the comments on the episode, almost all of which calling the kiss “sexy” or “hot” or, worst of all, “romantic”. It’s extremely obvious that the woman did not want or enjoy the kiss, but aw, she was all blushy and embarrassed afterward, so it was a cute scene, right? Ugh, no, gross. The woman, named Jeanne, was established as a very powerful, badass vampire. Yet she’s quickly reduced to a red-faced, crying mess by this absolute garbage character sexually assaulting her in front of several other characters. The whole scene was so bothersome I almost dropped the series entirely, because Vanitas never faces any consequences for this act. He just grins smugly after it’s over. However, I kept watching because, aside from Vanitas, the show is amazing. The art and animation are breathtaking. The plot is highly interesting. The characters, Vanitas excluded, are compelling. And then we have Noe, who is pretty much the opposite of Vanitas. Honestly, if Vanitas was the only protagonist, I would have dropped it, but he’s one of two. So... recommended, but with caution. Your mileage may vary on how much Vanitas you can stomach.

Heion Sedai no Idaten-tachi is.,. not something I expected to enjoy. It has a visual style that reminds me of Kill la Kill, a show I absolutely loathed. The overall vibe of the show is a little off-putting for me, but somehow I got myself hooked on it. The basic set up is that, hundreds of years ago, giant monstrous demons roamed the earth. All the gods of the earth got together, defeated the demons, and sealed them away, leaving one young god named Rin behind to watch over the seal and train newly born gods to fight, should the seal ever be broken. Flash forward to the present day, where Rin has only been able to train a very small number of gods because most of them can’t handle Rin’s absolutely brutal training (it mostly consists of her murdering them over and over and letting them regenerate, as they’re essentially immortal). Unfortunately, some demons have come back, and they’ve taken the appearance of humans. This revelation motivates some of the younger gods to resume their training with Rin. And that’s about all I can say for the plot without getting into some bizarre subplots. There’s a lot I don’t like about the show. I’m not crazy about its cartoony look given the subject matter. I don’t like that there’s basically a whole subplot that revolves around human women being repeatedly raped (side note: rape is never graphically shown, though it is made extremely clear what is happening and we see the lead up to it, also this is a rather small subplot that gets little attention after the first episode). And I absolutely hate that a character involved in this subplot, who encourages it, is presented as a character we should actually like. But! There are some things I really enjoy about it as well. I think the setup is really cool. The gods, and their role in the world of the story, are super interesting. They’re practically indifferent to humans, not even taking the slightest bit of interest when one country invades another and slaughters innocent civilians, because to them, it’s like a human intervening when one animal fights and kills another in the woods. So long as humans aren’t completely wiped out, they don’t get involved. Which is a neat concept. I also like the battles, which are frenetic and a blast to watch. And I totally love Rin, who is just a straight up badass in every single way. She’s one of those ridiculously overpowered characters we sometimes get in anime, most of which are usually male. Rin is so absurdly powerful that other absurdly powerful characters are terrified of her to the point that the mere mention of her name triggers panic attacks. Watching her fight is pure joy. Also the music is great, with an absolute banger of an opening theme. Recommended if you like wild, imaginative action anime and aren’t triggered by rape.

Carry Over Shows From Previous Seasons:

To Your Eternity Boku no Hero Academia Shaman King

Best of Season:

Best New Show: Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid

Best Opening Theme: Heion Sedai no Idaten-tachi

Best Ending Theme: Vanitas no Carte

Best New Male Character: Noe (Vanitas no Carte)

Best New Female Character: Alice (Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid)

#Anime #Anime Reviews #Anime Recommendations #Summer 2021 Anime #Seasonal Anime #Text #tw: rape #Shinigami Bocchan to Kuro Maid #The Duke of Death and his Maid #Heion Sedai no Idaten-tachi #Not tagging Vanitas because I talked shit about the character lol #This is the smallest number of shows I've followed in a long time #Maybe I'm getting more picky