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netherfeildren · 6 months

Text

Pink : Part III : Two

Series Masterlist : Part I : Part II

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Heavy angst; DD/lg dynamics; Dom/sub undertones; Daddy Kink; Jealousy; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Inappropriate shaving; Squirting; Belly bulge; Dirty talk; Orgasm delay/denial; Overstimulation; Face slapping; Spanking; Light degradation; Rough sex; Breeding kink; Divorce; Not safe to read if triggered by pregnancy; Use of misogynistic language; Discussions of mental and emotional abuse; Cliffhanger

A/N: All tags have been updated.

Word Count: 12.7K

Rating: Explicit 18+

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

3. Two

“You know that feeling of… of realizing you’re a good person? It’s like– yes, I know objectively that I probably am. That I try to be kind, I try to do things that are good and right, but you know those strangely self perceptive moments where another person makes you – forces you – to realize you’re good? And it brings your whole life, your whole self into clarity, and it’s like – I am good, and I deserve good things. I am good.

But he treated me so badly, for so long. He took away pieces of me, he took away that awareness of goodness. And how could I not believe him, when he constantly told me and showed me that I deserved so little, when it was what I accepted for myself? Constantly waiting for him to turn into a man he never was, never had been and never would be. I accepted those things for myself, I let them happen. Maybe I was weak or stupid or naive or all of them combined. Maybe I was just a girl. But I thought it was hope at the time. I thought I was being hopeful and good, and now I realize that was no true form of goodness. It was only the version of good he needed me to be, a subservient and silent type of goodness.”

“And you know, I had a neighbor who– her husband died last year at Christmas, and it was so sad. They were older, always together, it was… it has nothing to do with this, but I don’t know. It was like when a tragedy is soft and quiet, and it just folds into the rest of life unheeded. Such a strange thing for someone on the outside looking in. I lived next door to them, and I’d see them all the time living their lives together, and I barely knew them, but suddenly he was gone, and I was conscious of the fact that she was over there alone all the time now. Without him. When before he’d always been there. I don’t know what I'm trying to say. It’s just that it didn't happen to me, it affected me in no way, and yet, I felt her loss keenly. Afterwards, I helped her with her cat, an old skinny thing, Jazz. She started going out of town a lot after her husband died, getting out and away, you know, that sort of thing. And I’d cat sit for her, and he was so sweet. But he was old too, and a few months later, he died also. And I remember the week he was going to pass she’d texted me and said he’d go soon, and I told her I was praying for him, thinking of the both of them. I don’t even pray, but I needed to tell her I was with her in some way. And it was nothing, a few nights going over there to feed the old boy, a few text messages. It was the absolute bare minimum I could do, but a few weeks after the cat died, she wrote me the loveliest note. She told me that she appreciated me, that she thought of how kind I’d been during those days, when I’d told her I was thinking of them. She told me that I was a good person, and that she hoped my kindness was returned to me many times over.

And I’d forgotten, you see, I'd forgotten that I was good. That I had a capacity for goodness within me, and that I deserved to be reminded of it, like all soft creatures are. We all need reassurance and a kind word sometimes, and I’d forgotten that about myself.” You glance up at his eyes, the most tender look held in them. “Do you know what I mean, Joel?” You ask, voice very small, shy and afraid, for one moment, that he won’t understand you.

But he pets your hair, cradles your cheek, “Yeah, honey. I think I do know.”

It’s a terrifying ordeal, the way the two of you fold into each other in the weeks after that first night. And yet, unstoppable. You do try, and you’re sure he does, as well. The first few days, trying to stay away, not answering his calls, no texts because he says his fingers are too big, and he can’t work those tiny fuckin’ buttons, forcing yourself not to run back over there into his arms and his bed. But then he’s calling and calling and calling, begging, making it his turn to show up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, saying all the right things like, I haven’t been sleeping, and I need to see you, and I’m suffering, I’m suffering without you, touching you in all the right ways that should be wrong but aren’t. All baby, I hurt when I’m not inside this sweet pussy. He says you make him weak, and you tell him that the only weak thing here is you, and you don’t make it much of a struggle for him when you let him in your home, in your cunt, when all you can say is I miss you, I miss you, your cock, your hands, I can’t stop thinking about you. The two of you are one and the same in all the ways it counts. And he’s not your father-in-law anymore, a chameleon now in the form of the only man who’s ever understood you, wanted you, seen you as more, as a complexity.

He makes you wonder how you could have ever thought of yourself as anything like sexless when all he makes you is hungry and desperate and wet. Fucking everywhere you can, as often as you can, never being very careful, pulling out and counting your cycle and starting out with a condom but ripping it off halfway through because I just have to feel you – irresponsible bullshit. Not having your head screwed on tightly enough to even really care. He has you on his living room floor one afternoon, whole day gone away on his cock, and the two of you lay there for hours afterwards, bare limbs wrapped around each other, soft, wet cock tucked safely inside of you where he says it belongs. “How could you have not been angry?” You ask him because you can’t help yourself. Because you want him to teach you to be wise now that he’s shown you how to be good. “That he was kept from you? That you missed an entire lifetime of being a father? I never once saw you furious or resentful. How did you do it?”

“Don’t know,” he sighs. “Dunno… I– It was, kind of, the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me, truth be told, but I didn’t have a chance to compute, to sit in any sort of anger. He was right there all of a sudden, too full of anger to leave any left over for me, and he needed me so much. He needs me so much.” And you know he’s right, and there should be guilt now, gnawing at you, but there is really only jealousy. “And he– he…” A swallow, like you can read his mind, you know what he’ll say, already nodding. “And he hates me,” he whispers into the quiet of this lovely home he’s made for himself, his words mixing with the butter yellow ray of sunshine the two of you are lying in, slanting in through the big bay window. “He hates me, hates who I am. That it’s me he found when he came lookin’.” You have to cry for him then, maybe even for the both of them, maybe even for all three of you.

“Yes,” you choke, so full of sadness for the tragedy of it all. You can’t comfort him with a denial for you’re not a liar here with him. Protection like that isn’t necessary.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He hugs you so tightly, “There’s no reason to cry.”

“I can’t help it,” And return the words he’d given you once when you’d so badly needed a kindness, “You deserve more.”

He’s quiet for a long time after that, and you know him well enough now that you can hear the gears of his mind working and turning, and that makes you even sadder, perhaps, the greatest tragedy of all, this knowing, and eventually he says: “And yet, he is the son I have.” And at the end of it all, you think you are all only yourselves, and nothing can really be done about that.

And you say you want to be wise like him, that it’s your next lesson, so perhaps you should hold your tongue instead of saying: “He only just got you back, and I’m taking you away from him again. Because that’s what I want – I want to take you away and keep you only for myself. I want you to be only mine and that makes me bad. I’m bad.” Your first lesson quashed beneath the fist of your greed for a man who isn’t for you, and who you shouldn’t want, and it’s wrong and maybe even sinful or disgusting or any and all the things that are always bad. None of that matters. He’s turned you into a real person now, none of the rest of it matters.

But he understands, because of course he does, because he always has. He grips your jaw in his hands, large, strong hands, hands made for taking care of things, and tells you, not so wise seeming anymore: “Sometimes I look at myself, and it’s like I'm two feet tall. Why didn’t I meet you sooner? First? How could I have been such a coward to not go out there and search for you? I should have known you were out there, I should have sensed it. How can a man be jealous of his own son?” He turns you over then, cock hard and thrusting again, kisses you full on the mouth, and it tastes like ownership, and says, “You could never be bad. No matter what you did. You’re only ever good. Haven’t I taught you that?”

“Joel, there’s someone at the door,” peeking into the restroom where he’s just stepped out of the shower, wet and steaming, shaking his head out like a dog, towel covering all the fun bits. He’d just had you too many times already, and still, you want more. You’re made of nothing but greed now; he’s taught you how to be good, but he’s also taught you how to be greedy. You’d been strewn across his couch, eating chips and wearing his clothes and leaking his come and waiting for him to finish in the shower and come out to make dinner. He was doing steaks on the grill and baked potatoes with all the fixings and roasted vegetables, and he’d even gotten a pie and ice cream, but he said he wasn’t telling you what the flavor was, only that it was your favorite, and you can’t think how he’d know you love rhubarb, but if that’s what he’s gotten, you were going to let him do anything to you. Literally anything he wanted. Not that you didn’t already… but still, it’s the sentiment that counts, you think. He’d also said you weren’t allowed to shower, that the rule tonight was that you weren’t allowed to wash him off, and you really didn’t mind that so much. So there you were, after he’d put on Stepmom for you, and you were just thinking that Julia Roberts was surely the most beautiful woman who’d ever been born, when someone had knocked on the door, a rhythmic, friendly: tap, tap, tap, that had your heart dropping down into your stomach, and you scurrying into the master bath to frantically tell him that someone is here while you’re here wearing him all over and inside of you and what are you going to do now? He gives you a calm smile, running the towel over his wet head, giving you an eyeful of the fun bits now, and you try and not peek, you really do, but it’s really just the most exciting part on him, you can’t help yourself. His smile turns knowing, that look in his eye, “S’alright, sweetheart. Don’t fret, I’ll get it.”

“But–” you try and protest, maybe he should just pretend not to be home. What if it’s– you can’t even think of it. But then no, he’d not come here. He hates coming to this house, the proof of everything he wasn’t all in his face like this was humiliating for your ex-husband.

His smile remains, but his eyes go a little stern, “No worryin’, I’ll take care of it.” He tugs on his jeans, the man literally never wears underwear, slut, and tugs on a shirt, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he passes you, hand dragging over your belly, smelling of soap and Joel and want, want, want. You follow him on tip toes down the hall, pausing at the mouth of the living room, chewing on your lip and your fingers, about to spit your heart out with nerves as he pulls the door open.

“Hi, Joel, honey. How’s it goin’?” Pretty, bubbly, overly friendly voice you were definitely not expecting. You take a small step forward, the mouth of the hall slightly to the left of the front door so that you can see her without her seeing you, watch his profile as he talks to her. Edie, he says, and that dishwasher givin’ you trouble again, and laughs at her reply, the sound of their conversation going out of your ears as you watch him, head falling sideways on your neck a little bit, the way he laughs at whatever the woman that’s come knocking on the door of his home all friendly and comfortable to interrupt his time with you is saying, loud, bellyfull, one arm braced against the doorframe so that you can see her eyes flit every few seconds to the thick bulge of muscle there. Your face goes hot, your insides green and bitter, but he’s laughing just handsomely enough that you know it’s not real. You know his real laugh, and it isn’t this one. The woman leans forward, blonde hair and big boobs and batting lashes, but Joel shifts backwards subtly, keeping a respectful distance, and your pulse throbs at the backs of your knees and the pit of your stomach. She likes him, she’s here because she likes him, asking him to look at her dishwasher or something, yeah, sure, sure that’s the only thing she wants looked at.

“I’ll come take a look at it tomorrow. How ‘bout that? I’m sure it’ll be another quick fix like last time, but you should probably think about just replacin’ the thing at this point,'' he tells her.

“Oh, can’t you now, Joel?” She pouts, “It’s just that–”

“I’m tied up tonight, Edie,” he cuts her off, an indulgent, too charming smile on his face, and oh, it pisses you off, that smile. You turn on your heel, stomping down the hall back to his bedroom. Huffing, gnashing your teeth. The sight of him with another woman, a more appropriate woman because of course she is, it makes you sick, angry, something terrible, so, so jealous your bones itch beneath the surface of your skin. It makes you small and slanted again, wrong place, wrong time, wrong girl. Not for him, never for him, and it’s so unfair, and he is so– so… Smiling at her like that, using that tone of voice, propping up his stupid huge arm like that so that his muscle’s all defined and put on display, and you hate him and the way he makes you feel and how much you want and need him. On the verge of tears or screaming or vomiting you scramble around his room, trying to collect your clothes and your strewn panties and where the fuck is your bra and your other shoe?

“What’re you doin’?” Comes his soft, steady voice a moment later. Entirely too even for the way you feel right now. You want to hiss at him or bite him or do something entirely uncivilized.

“I have to go home.”

“Why?”

“I have something to do. I forgot.”

“Something, what? What do you have to do?” But you ignore him, rifling through the strewn clothes on the armchair in the corner – where the hell is your goddamn bra? “Look at me–” he barks, now having stepped further into the bedroom.

“Oh, fuck off,” and there’s a part of you that knows that you’re being irrational, that he’s done nothing wrong, but you feel so provoked suddenly. In need of a fight or a thrashing or something, something to make this terrible feeling poisoning you on the inside go away.

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” and his voice is so calm and so quiet and so scary. It makes you lock up one second, spin around the next to spit and hiss at him like an angry cat. You will not watch your mouth. “She wants you.” You almost stomp your foot like a child throwing a fit, but he’s entirely still and silent, taking you in with the most unfathomable of looks. “Do you know that?” And this time you do stomp your foot. “Do you want her back?”

He blinks once, and then like a lightbulb turning on, even though you’re obvious as daylight, “You’re jealous.”

“Do you want her back?” You ask again, real tears in your voice this time.

And his gaze goes soft and tender and entirely understanding, “Never.” He shakes his head.

“She looked like a fucking idiot.” You pout, childish – how will he ever want you when you act like this?

“I only want you.” But you don’t believe him. How could you? When there’s nowhere for this to go. When he deserves so much more than the options afforded to him here between the two of you. And you want to fight with him because there’s nothing to be done, no choices, no other recourse, and it’s not his fault and there’s no one to blame and no outlet for this terrible anger inside of you. You feel like you’re choking on it, being swallowed whole, that head breaking water feeling reversed so that now you’re deep at the bottom of the well of your own wanting. You turn back to the fruitless search for your bra. He’s hidden it from you, you’re sure, some evil old man ploy to keep you here trapped and braless with him. “Did you hear me? I only want you,” he says again, voice closer now.

And you think you’re mumbling or crying, something hysterical bubbling up inside of you, I have to go, I have to go, your movements manic and jerking. He grips your arm, jerking you around into his chest, face flushed with anger now, but voice still even, “You’re not fucking listening to me. I only want you,” and yanks your hand to feel the hard cock trapped beneath the confines of his jeans. This is only for you. But it’s not, not in any real way, not in a way that would let you keep him and that realization sets something off inside of you. You thrash in his hold, let me go, let me go, trying to kick him in the shins while he tries to wrap his arms around your struggling form, that rumbling chant constant in your ear, I only want you, I only want you, I am only for you. It feels like he’s burrowing beneath your skin, unzipping you, splaying your insides wide open for his gaze, taking hold of your bones, a puppet on his string. You manage to yank your arm out from beneath his grip and unthinking, a buzzing so high pitched it makes you dizzy and nauseous sounding in your ears, you slap him in the face. Not very hard, maybe, but enough that you hear the crack of your palm meeting the grizzled scruff of his cheek. The sound like a bone snapping, setting off something inside both of you even worse, more frenzied than before. He groans deep in his chest, big hand fisting in your hair and jerking it back so hard you yelp in pain. “Hit me again, do it again. I want you any way I can have you, even angry. Do it again,” he goads you on, but that mindless hand is fisted in his shirtfront now, pulling you closer to him, tear stained mouth seeking his, opening to receive his filthy kiss.

“I’m sorry,” you cry, but all he says is that he only wants you, again and again, grips you harder, makes it hurt more, and you whine and whimper and scratch and bite, a wild thing, the two of you caught up in some strange struggle of push and pull and want and fight. You can feel the hard length of his cock grinding against your belly, searching for something hot and wet to fuck into, and you hitch your knee around his hip, open yourself to him, listen to his groan in your ear, throaty and full.

“You just need a little remindin’? Don’t you, huh?” He tugs your head back, none too gentle, to look at your tear slicked face, his eyes on fire, almost a little manic. He spins you away from him, shoving you towards the bed, ignoring your whines and protests, shut up and bend over, pushing you over the edge of the bed and crouching down behind you. “You just need a little remindin’ of how to be a good girl. I know that’s all this fightin’ is. Right, baby?” No, you try and struggle, kicking your leg out uselessly to the side, but he pins you with your arms back behind you at the small of your waist, pushing his shirt up your back to expose the naked curve of your ass and the pussy you know he’ll find humiliatingly wet and hungry for him. “Just need remindin’ of how to be a good girl for me, right?” His fingers slide down to the apex of your thighs, finding you dripping and swollen from his earlier use and your current desire, all twisted up and compounded ten fold with your jealousy.

“So wet already for me, baby,” he coos at you.

And oh, he’s so annoying, and you’re so embarrassing and weak for him. “Shut up, old man,” you whine. A single finger enters you slowly, rubbing up against all the terribly sensitive and swollen places inside of you, then pulls his wet fingers from you to deliver a single stinging swat to the curve of your ass, sticky wet imprint of yourself left behind.

“Yeah, and this old man fucks you better than anyone else,” he slips his fingers gently back inside of you, “Remember that you little whore,” he says even more gently. The words make you twist and writhe, a terrible flush of lust burning through you. He feels you tighten around his fingers, groans appreciatively. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He twists his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against something that makes you feel like you’re about to wet yourself. You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head, refusing to answer. “No lyin’. You daddy’s little whore?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, your hips moving with the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. He brushes his thumb slowly over your pulsing clit, plays you like a game.

“No?” His voice is so soft, so teasing.

“I’m not your whore–”

“You’re not? Then what are you, baby? Tell me.”

You’re right there, so close, about to come on his fingers. “I'm your baby. I'm your baby. I’m yours– I belong to you, daddy.” He pulls his fingers from your cunt, hand coming to grip your ass cheek so hard it hurts, fingernails digging into your soft skin, dragging down the smooth surface. You can hear him panting behind you, shaking, trying to control himself. He makes a gruff, rough sound in his throat, gentles his grip on you.

“You don’t think I don’t get fucking jealous?” he spits when he’s finally managed to control himself. “You think I don't think about you with my own son and want to die? That he got to have you in a way I never will, and even worse, wasted you? You don’t think it makes me sick with envy?” He brings his fingers back to play in your wet folds, feels the slick drip of you, thrums at your clit, opening you to him with a hand on your cheek and licking you from clit to asshole. Running the flat expanse of his tongue over the length of your sex and then sucking hard at the apex of nerves, hard enough that you can’t tell if it hurts or feels good or a little bit of both. He’s got you bent over the end of his bed facing the dresser so that you have a clear view of the two of you in the mirror above it. And the sight of him, massive frame crouched down behind you, huge and hulking, face buried in your cunt from behind, the curved slope of his nose, the long, thick lashes, eyes closed like he’s enjoying himself more than he’s ever enjoyed anything else in his entire life as he licks your ass and sucks on your clit. He pulls back, and you watch, almost in slow motion, as he shocks you by swatting your entire sex with his big hand, and then immediately brings his face back to lick and kiss your smarting skin. “But he didn’t fuck you the way you needed to be fucked,” he continues. “And I do. He didn’t understand you, but I do. At least I have that.” It sounds like he’s consoling himself, and you can’t help but find consolation in it as well. Your eyes move up to your own reflection, sweat slicked and tear stained, eyes glassy, wet fingers inside of your mouth because you need something to chew on to stand the terrible throbbing in your cunt on the verge of coming. He licks you again, presses his tongue to your asshole. “Did you ever get wet for him like this?” He pulls back, runs the pads of his fingers over your clit in fast, hard up and down motions, makes it feel so good it hurts, you’re right there, you’re right there, pulls away. “Were you ever desperate for him like this? Cunt all drippy and swollen and pathetic for him like you are for me, my sweet baby?”

Never, daddy. Never. Only you. You can’t lie to him when he’s got his tongue inside of you, it’s just not possible. Only me. Only mine. You press up on your tippy toes, roll back down onto the balls of your feet, “Yeah, rub that sweet pussy all over daddy’s face,” he mumbles into your skin, slurps at you. He wraps his lips around your clit once more, sucks and licks and sucks again, and your cunt goes so, so tight, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, daddy, and then just stops. Pulls away entirely, gets to his feet, leaves you to throb and shiver and beg, whole body flashing hot and cold on the precipice of orgasm. Still holding you pinned in place with your wrists at the small of your back, you watch his eyes roam along your draped form, he drags his hand down the wet length of his face, wiping the drippiness of your slick away. “Stay just like that for me,” and his eyes move to yours in the mirror, as if he’s known the entire time just how riveted on him you’d been. “What?” He asks with a crooked brow and a mean little smirk. “You think you get to come? After that little display?”

“Don’t be mean,” you whisper, staying exactly as he’d directed. Trying your best to be a good girl.

“Shoulda thought of that before, sweet girl.” He bends over the length of you so you’re eye to eye now, gets his face right up close to yours and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You wanna pretend to fight, stand there like an indignant little girl stomping your foot and yellin’ about bein’ jealous while my come runs down your thighs still. Obviously, I’m not doin’ a good enough job of remindin’ you you’re mine, how much I want you. Gonna fix that now.” Presses another soft kiss to your mouth now.

“You’re trying to dominate me,” you whine, struggling to press against his mouth again even as he pulls back out of your reach, plants a big palm between your shoulders to keep you still.

“You bet your fuckin’ ass I am. You’re gonna do what I tell you to when you’re letting me fill you with my come the way you are. And you’re gonna like it too. You get me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

But then he goes serious, that teasing glint in his eyes flickering away suddenly. “You have nothing to be jealous of. Ever. I don’t want anyone but you. I don’t care about anything else but this.” And even though you’re sure it must be a lie, it sounds so lovely, you choose to believe him for now. You nod up at him, sniffling and crying again a little bit. “And no one takes care of you like I do,” he finally says, as if it’s a reminder, a consolation to the both of you once again.

And he’s right, as he tells you to stay put, be a good girl and not move, leaves you there bent over the bed, that chant sounds in your mind, no one takes care of you like he does, no one, no one, no one.

He steps back into his bedroom to the sight of you still draped over the bed, big eyes wet and slightly vacant, pussy red and swollen and bared to him like a wound with his name on it. You’d brought your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your fingernails the way you did sometimes when you were anxious or overwhelmed, and when your eyes flit to him, taking in the bowl of warm water, the washcloth and shaving cream in his hold, they go wide, shocked. He arranges his things, gripping you by the hips to turn you over, pulling his shirt from you, leaving you entirely naked, and settling between your spread thighs. “Wh– what are you doing?” Voice all breathy and hitched, the thrum of your excited pulse in your throat.

“Gonna shave you bare. Then I’m gonna eat you ‘til you’re crying, ‘til you’re so swollen you can barely take my fingers. After that, I’m gonna wedge my cock inside you and fuck you ‘til you’re so full’a my come you’ll remember not to forget you ain’t got no reason to be jealous ever again.” He strokes your curls gently with the pad of his thumb, something like fondness in the gesture, clicks his tongue. “These’re so pretty. Gonna miss ‘em.”

“Oh my god,” you choke when he drapes the water warmed washcloth over your spread pussy.

“You wanna be a brat, you wanna fight and act like you don’t know I belong to you and you to me? That none of that other shit matters– I’m gonna remind you, don’t worry.”

You crane your neck, pushing up on your elbows to watch him remove the washcloth and cover the soft curls of your groin with shaving cream. When he opens the blade and brings it to your skin, the sight of the straight edged blade against you, the smooth cream as the steel reveals the bare, satin soft skin beneath, has your chest heaving, sweat pooling at the little notch of your throat – fucking gorgeous and his.

“You’re going to be so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs as he bends your leg back and opened wide, splitting you for his gaze. Delicate with the movements of his wrist as he shaves you. “All bare and slick down here, just for me. You’re so swollen already.”

You mumble something, moaning and letting yourself flop back against the mattress, he’s quick to pull the blade from you, pausing his movements while you settle, gives you a second to press the balls of your palms into the sockets of your eyes, whining Joel and daddy and please. And the trust in this moment between the two of you, that you’re letting him wield a blade so close to your fragile center, letting him do this to you as a way to remind the both of you of the power you cede and wield over and to one another, something that gives him the opportunity to inflict his will in a way that recenters you, reminds you that you’re his, his to do with you as he will, and it’s just the two of you in this space and you trust each other implicitly, it has a sense of control swelling inside of Joel, making his cock rock hard in his jeans, leak down his thigh. Control in a way there is none of in everything else between the two of you. Control in a way there cannot exist in any other aspect of your relationship. When he’s finished, he cleans you slowly with a new warm, damp cloth, then goes to put away his supplies, and when he returns, he looms over you, taking in the sight of your little bald cunt now.

Slowly, he starts to pull his clothes off, watching the quick panting of your breathing, the dip and swell of your belly, so aroused by the intimacy you’ve just shared that your pupils are blown wide and dark. “You’ve made such a mess, little girl,” he says, dragging a single finger through your overflowing slit, following the slick from your swollen clit to your asshole where it pools beneath. He fingers your folds gently, avoiding your swollen clit, your little hole winking at him wantonly. “Please–” you whisper so softly, almost gasping for breath you can barely get the words out.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know you need to come so bad, don’t you?” He drags his palms up and down your thighs, up to your waist and then tugs you down over the edge of the bed and onto your knees in front of him, wide eyes riveted hungry on his cock. “How does it feel? So sensitive, isn’t it?” He’s so hard his erection stands straight up towards his belly, balls hanging heavy and full and aching. He gently drags his fingers along your scalp, feels the heat emanating from your skull. “Lick it all over, get it nice and wet so I can put it inside you.” He knows he needs to be careful now. The two of you are wide open to each other in this moment, so on edge he could come just at the look in your eyes, and you, something more than just vulnerable. He’d worried briefly, in the past weeks, if he should stop, send you away, take himself away, tell you it was too much. You were getting too attached, and although he knew it was too late for himself, that he was beyond salvaging when it came to you, he could imagine nothing worse than seeing you come out hurt from this. Could also imagine no scenario in which you wouldn’t anymore. He feeds you his cock, fisted tightly at the root to stave off his impending orgasm, slides all the way to the back of your throat until he feels his tip hit resistance, enjoying the sight of you choking on it for just a second. Good girl. “Fuck– fuck, yes. See, see how good you can be for me?” He tells you as you suck on his tip, hollowing your cheeks and running your tongue all around the wide head, tonguing his foreskin, making him hiss and bear his teeth at you while you look up at him with falsely innocent eyes. He yanks you up and against him, gives you a filthy, wet kiss, all tongue and teeth and false control, swallowing down the taste of his own precum. He’s never felt less in control of himself, of a situation, than he does right now. He has, in these past weeks, entirely lost sight of himself, of what this should and should not have been, blindly led by his cock and his heart. He’s lost all control, and Joel is nothing but weakness and want now.

Turning you in his arms, he sits at the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide and pulls you onto his lap, impaling you back onto his spit-slick cock so swiftly he doesn't even think you’re expecting it until he’s bumping against your womb, your knees hooked and spread wide over his own. Too desperate to lick your cunt again the way he’d planned. You let out a long, shocked keen, back arching, trying to escape the too big cock suddenly shoved inside of your tiny hole. Joel has to grit his teeth, take deep breaths through his nose and out through his mouth before he can speak at the feel of you fluttering and pulsing around him, “The more you whine, the harder I’ll fuck you, got it?” There’s nothing even close to a coherent response coming out of your mouth, and he was right, shaved bare like this, you’re so much more sensitive. He pulls the lips of your sex gently apart around where he’s impaling you, takes in the sight of your little hole stretched obscenely around his fat cock in the mirror’s reflection and slowly starts to seesaw his hips back and forth, watching his glossy length disappear in and out of you. “How does it feel, baby? You’re so pretty, look at yourself.” He whispers into the small shell of your ear, presses a soft kiss to the lobe, tugs on it with his teeth. He slides in all the way, pulling your hips down so that his balls press against the curve of your ass. “Look, see where daddy’s so deep inside you – can see it in your belly.” Your head lolls back on his shoulder, gaze hooded and delirious, but your hand moves down to the soft skin of your stomach, gently cupping the outline of his cock inside of you. “I’m so deep inside of your tiny cunt, baby. Look at how you’re all mine–” He starts to move again, flicking at your clit, interchanging between fast and hard and slow and so soft you can barely feel it, and your face looks like you want to say something, tell him something, scream, but can’t. And there’s so much he’d like to tell you too, all the things you deserve and probably need to hear from him, but can’t either. He feels you start to tighten up on him, the heat in your body suddenly seeming to flush higher and brighter, almost to boiling, your cunt going so, so tight it almost pushes him out. He presses inside harder, holds you in place with one hand, and thrums fast and hard at your clit with the other, focusing the tip of his cock at the front wall of your pussy, “You’re gonna come–” he grunts, holds you in place and hammers into that swollen place inside of you he’d kill to own for the rest of his life. “Fuck– fuck, you’re gonna squirt all over my cock, aren’t you? Can feel it–” Your face spasms, your belly clenching hard and tight, and you gush, letting out a pained, animal sound, voice broken and breathless, wetting both of your thighs with your come, the bed covers beneath soaked dark. Joel doesn’t stop. He wants more, again, all of you, thrums again at your clit with the pads of his fingers, changes the angle of your hips to roll you fast and hard onto his come-slicked length, pinches your clit hard, watches you squirt all over him again. Something like the sound of his name leaves your mouth in a broken cry, your chewed raw nails trying to claw at him ineffectively. “Dirty fucking girl – creamin’ all over your daddy’s cock,” his voice is gruff, not entirely his own. There’s something here – you’d told him once you’d always felt out of control. In your relationship with Sam, aware of what he was, always, of what you were and were not, and that there was something about control that was so necessary to you now. And there is something here like control, your control over him, taking hold of him entirely so he’s unsure of what it is he should and should not be, here and now, with you. He should not be delusional, he should be aware. He is not adhering to either very well.

He goes to his feet with you still impaled on his throbbing length, erection so hard it hurts, can barely stand up straight, blood pounding on rhythm to the chant of your name. He pulls you from him, watches the slick slide of your cunt walls dragging along his length, the cream of your slick left as a reminder all over his skin. He presses you onto the bed, rolls you this way and that too look at you all over, bends to drag his tongue through that drippy cunt of yours that squirts and comes so prettily for him, then back up and kneeling above you, between your glossy thighs, and thrusting into that tight cunt, grunting as you clench around him. So hard he feels the screaming tip of his cock punch against your cervix, listens to you make a hurt, hiccupy sound when his balls slap against you.

He should be gentle. He should be careful. He should be aware, not delusional, himself. He should reach back and take hold of that man he always thought himself to be, hard and cold but never cruel. Maybe not good, but always aware and never weak. He’s none of those things now here with you. Joel is now only himself. You’ve made me into a real person, you’d whispered onto his tongue. What he’d not told you was that you’d done the same to him.

You’re a gift, a gift, a gift, a gift. A gift in the way his son never was. A gift in the way that a whole lifetime lost and returned to him never was, and Joel is weak and two feet tall and made of paper, but for you. Anyways, or despite it all, still made only for you.

“Fuck me like you’re in love with me,” you say, read his mind, take hold of the beating mass in his chest. Fuck me like you’re in love with me. And maybe you don’t mean it. Maybe you’re too far gone. It doesn’t matter.

He does it anyway. Pulls back, wedges back inside the too swollen, too sensitive, too tiny cunt that belongs to him. He bears his teeth at you, grabs hold of your face so hard you’ll bruise, and fucks you like he’s in love with you. It comes to him so easily, after all.

Shoving his knees high up beneath your thighs, he brings your ankles to his shoulders, little feet knocking against his ears, he wishes for sense, he finds none, only a deeper, sharper angle. The sounds of your cries and the things you whisper in his ear he knows you should not say and he should not listen to that fill him full of things he should not feel like I was made for you and daddy, there’s no one like you and come inside me, please, please, I need it. He pulls his hips back, swings them forward, listens to the sound of his balls slap, and you beg for harder, savors the fire that pools in his belly and the base of his spine. And he thinks that he should pull out, he’s been so fucking careless with you and your future and your vulnerability, but he’s like a monster full of greed, intent on nothing but staking his claim, leaving a claim, desperate for a way to be remembered or never forgotten or never left behind. “We have to be careful,” he begs you, and feels scared and terrible for a moment, not to be trusted with a gift like this in his hands. “I’m going to get you fucking pregnant, God.”

But you’re like some siren, something taking him away from himself, and you tell him, “I don’t care, I don’t care,” voice gone so far away from yourself too, all hazy, full of bubbles and too cock drunk to be true or sane, but it lands like a gut punch anyway. And Joel tries to hold onto himself he does, he swears he does, tries to remain rational, and aware of what this was supposed to be and not supposed to be. Tells you to please, “Shut up, shut up. Please, don’t say those things to me, I’m begging you.” But eventually that siren song wins out, the feel of your cunt sucking him deeper, milking him dry, your small damp hands pulling at his hair, stubby nails dragging down the skin of his cheeks, over his back, and Joel’s weak now. Weak and full of want and greed and delusion so that all that’s left is capitulation and: “You want daddy to fuck his babies into you? You want me to fill you up and keep you forever?” But something of himself must remain because he covers your mouth, big hand wrapped around your sweaty little face before you can answer, forcing the words silent inside of your mouth, the truth you both know you’d spit out otherwise. Yes, yes, I do. And as if the idea of you carrying his child held a direct like to your orgasm, you start to come around him, overwhelmed cunt, split in two and carved in the shape of his name now, clenching around him, going so wet and hot and tight Joel’s sure he’ll never be able to leave it ever again. You reach down between the two of you, grasp the half of his cock outside of your wet clutch, shiny with your slick and jack him off with sharp little tugs, make sure he fills you with his spend full to the brim. He spills over and out, dribbles down the slope of your ass to leave you lying in a little puddle of his semen, and when he pulls out, careful to not ask you to hold all of his weight over you, he brings your fingers to your gaping cunt, “Feel where daddy’s been,” lets you play in the imprint of himself he’s left behind.

He lays beside you, steaming hot little thing worming up against him, nuzzling beneath his chin, pressing tiny kisses that tell him all the things the both of you need to hear and say, and he feels himself go cool and dry inside and out. Something terrible suddenly swelling within him. Something that reeks of truth, and you must smell it in the air as well because you share a piece of your own painful honesty with him, force him to confront it. “Sometimes I think I’m impossible to love,” in the smallest voice he’s surely ever heard.

“Haven’t I shown you how untrue that is?” Because if there’s one thing he’ll never do with you, it’s lie.

You tuck your hand beneath your cheek, and you glow, and he feels blinded by it for a moment, eyes wide and so vulnerably tender, something afraid that makes something equally vulnerable inside of him rage and beat its chest. “Is that what this is? Are we in love, Joel?”

He thinks you must see the fear in his eyes, because yours suddenly go calm, fathomless, something steady for him to hold on to, and that stench of honesty chokes him. “Yeah–” he nods, swallows, thinks of his son, hates himself. “I think so, baby.”

What can remain the same after honesty like that? After splitting yourself open and showing each other your insides in such a way? What could possibly remain the same? Nothing. The truth is laid bare, and all that’s left now. And instead of setting you free, the truth never really sets you free, it makes everything terribly fraught and frightened and fragile.

When he moves to stand, the sound of your desperation for him to make you his in an irreversible way rings like exploding shrapnel in your ears, “Do you think we’re bad?” You ask because you’ve only ever wanted to be good, but his eyes are so haunted, large and round and fathomless. His face, taking on a sudden sort of gauntness as he thinks of what to say to you after the worst has already been said. You watch the line of his throat ripple as he swallows several times, reading the real truth in his eyes before he shakes his head slowly, incongruous like a lie, “Never you,” and he does not include himself, “Never you.” It’s devastating. Devastating that the only thing that’s ever mattered, the thing that has finally made you good, is bad in his eyes.

You sit at the kitchen table, watching him while he makes dinner for you. Cold and shivery and wet between your legs in a way that’s not comfortable anymore. In a way that feels like an essential part of you is slowly dripping out, leaving you grossly empty inside. The beautiful dinner he’d bought and made for you tastes like ash wrapped in all the honesty surrounding the two of you, and you stare at each other and there's no need for more words because the truth is all right here in front of the two of you to see with your own two eyes. You want to go get dressed, but you don’t want to call attention to the seed of wrongness that’s been planted now. Are we in love? When the answer had so obviously been yes for so long already. Naive, silly girl. And you want to be angry with him. Ask him why he’d done this to you, made you fall in love with him when he’d said before that you couldn’t, when it was all so hopeless. You also want to hear him say it, say the words out loud with teeth and tongue and sound, you want to taste the words in your mouth because seeing them in his eyes wrapped in all that hopelessness isn’t nearly enough to satiate this hunger he’s stoked inside of you. You want to ask him to hold you, to crawl into his lap and have him cradle you like a child protected in the embrace of stronger, wiser arms. You want to have never been put on this path, to have never met his son, never have married him, never have met him. You want the whole terrible ordeal to be wiped from mind and mouth and memory. You want to have not had to accept it all, not have moved on, not be grateful in ways you can’t even understand for the lesson it’d all posed. You want it all to have never happened. To never have experienced the entire convoluted mess of feelings this ordeal of tearing down your entire life to make yourself anew had caused. To have never fallen in love with your ex-husbands father.

He sits in his chair, hands cupping his chin for so long, silent and staring, probably wondering what to do with you, and when he finally stands, nothing but a long, pained sigh to interrupt the terrible silence, you finally muster the strength to go find that missing bra. Crawl home, once again a ghoul in the night in need of wound licking. And it must be that very same terrible silence, the even more terrible look in his eyes that has something pressurized, set to burst, bottled inside of you because when a knock on the door sounds once again, you don’t even stop for half a thought, exploding suddenly. In his clothes and come, ripping the door open, the words on your tongue ready to spit at her that he’s already got one desperate woman on his hands that needs taking care of, and no, he will not be fixing her dishwasher or her pussy or anything else she thinks she might need him for.

But it’s not the neighbor. And you have nothing but fear lodged in your throat to spit out when you meet his eyes.

Eyes like his father’s, colder, crueler, furious and humiliated, take you in. Just fucked hair and a flannel that’s not your own, mis-buttoned, come-dryed thighs. And worst of all, his voice, like he isn’t even that surprised, like he’d come here just to find this, “You fucking whore.”

“Sam–” you’re not sure if you actually say his name, but the intention is held there, on the tip of your tongue. A plea for mercy or a shout for help or protection or something.

“You fucking whore,” and you flinch at the scream in his throat, scuffle back into the safety of the house of the man you love who is the father of the man you were married to, the man who broke you, the betrayed son. He’s shocked still for a single second, before he’s charging at you, fist not entirely raised but definitely held with consideration. And, “I knew it, I always fucking knew it,” before Joel is there, stepping between you and your ex-husuband, his son, blocking you with his body, big hand wrapping entirely around your forearm to hold you close to himself, to hold you in his protection.

“You better put your fucking arm down before I break it, son.” That moment, Joel’s voice, the utter betrayal in his son’s eyes. The sound of you breaking something that you should have never ever gotten in between. It is worse than all the rest. You take him in, the sight of this man who you used to be married to, he’d always seemed so large in your eyes before, so unattainable. Something never to be fully touched, only gazed upon. Always apart, always cold. Sam’s eyes fall to the place where his father holds you, and his face spasms, something terrible. Broken and alone, a child cast out into the cold. And you want to say that he seems so different now, haggard and gaunt and whittled down to bare bones, but it isn’t the truth. You always knew what he was, your most terrible bit of honesty. You always knew, you’d just not cared before. There was never any separation, no space for you to take a breath and want better for yourself. To be under his scrutiny, something that at one time felt like admiration, but was never anything even close, it was like nothing else, like everything, a great lie. But he was too aware of it, of himself, of that power he held over you, and unlike his father, he was cruel with it. Your eyes move up to the back of Joel’s head, the hard edge of his jaw, the muscle that spasms furiously there. What would it do to you now to be under that same sort of attention, influence, admiration, but from a kinder, gentler, honest source? What had it done to you? Dangerous to risk yourself again, impossible to stop now.

“I always knew it,” he says again, “I always knew you wanted him. What? You let him fuck you?” The words in his mouth are a terrible thing, Joel says something, tells him to hold his tongue, to get the fuck out, but your eyes are riveted on the sight of his face, this man you used to be married to who’d broken you so completely, who’d stolen your very memory of yourself. He seems wholly unrecognizable now, and in a way, it frightens you, that someone you’d known for what seemed like so long could be such a stranger now. Joel’s hand is an anchor, such a comfort wrapped around your arm. “You barely let me touch you for two years, but you’ll bend over like a whore for my fucking Dad?” His voice breaks and it makes you want to laugh a little bit.

Joel shoves him backward, jerking you forward still in his hold. “Say that word one more time in my house, and I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you. And don’t fucking look at her,” he snaps, reaching up to give him a quick two tapped slap on the cheek to focus his gaze on himself. “Get out, Sam. I’ll call you later. We can–”

But unheeded or too far gone, like he needs to hear the sound of the words as a comfort to himself in this moment, Sam looks back at you, “You’re a fucking whore. I wish I’d never met you, I hate you.” Joel shoves him backwards again, harder this time so that his leg slams into the side table, overturning the lamp there into a crashing heap on the floor, so hard that when he pulls you with him it feels as if he’ll wrench your shoulder from its socket with the force of his anger. You yelp in pain, but cling to him anyways, refusing to let him go either, hiding behind the hill of his shoulder. Pushing his son away, not letting you go. It’s wrong, it’s wrong and you’d told him that you wanted to keep him, to take him away from his own son, that you were made of nothing but greed, but there’s something wrong here, inherently not right, bad.

And even yet, you can’t help the look on your face that must surely be nothing short of humiliating to Sam for the way he reddens, the little muscles in his face jerking uncontrollably. You’re done here, Sam. Get the fuck out, Joel says again, taking a step forward to herd him out, pulling you along, keeping you close. You taunt him with your gaze, can’t help yourself, “I thought I was a prude?” You say from behind the protection of his father’s body. “Isn’t that what you called me for all those years? Thought I was frigid, unfuckable, unlovable? Am I not anymore?” You ask in a small, breathy voice, falsely guileless, entirely provoking. “Have you changed your mind now that I’ve taken your Daddy from you?” False pout and mocking eyebrow.

Joel’s head snaps over his shoulder, incredulous look on his face, and Sam flinches as if struck, splintered glass in the shape of his son’s gaze, it fractures, falls back to where Joel holds you.“I wanted to talk to you,” He says to his father, “I wanted to– You’re really choosing her over me?” It costs Sam something to say this, and you weren’t expecting it either because suddenly, the game changes. His voice is child-like in its hurt, that son who longed for his father for all those years. “After everything that was stolen from us, you’re not going to choose me?” You know in that moment, he’s won.

“This isn’t about choice, son,” Joel tells him, but you hear it for the lie it is. “This isn’t about you versus her.”

“But it is,” and his eyes flash to yours, victory held in them. “She was my wife. And you’re my father, and you have to make a choice now. This is fucking sick.” There’d always been an intelligence to his cruelty, and he wields it now. The sound of his son’s name is a choked thing in Joel’s mouth. He goes rigid, a painful stillness, muscles vibrating with warring emotions. You hold your breath for it. He looks down at where he holds you, tightens his grip painfully, and then slowly, so that the three of you are sure to take in the whole procession of it, he lets go of your arm. One finger at a time, the heat of his palm leaving you, and you’re alone.

“It isn’t about choice,” he says again, and yet, one has already been made. You stand still, head bent, gaze riveted on the place where he’d let you go. He takes a step away from you, towards his son, and his voice is low and gentle and soothing now, and you’re still staring at the barrenness of your arm.

I had such potential to be good, you think. He just never saw it. But you don’t know who you mean. And you don’t think it matters anymore.

They say more to each other. Joel’s hand on his son’s arm now, pushing him towards the door, but still, still comforting for the thing it symbolizes, a benediction of choice, and you turn around to face the other side of the room. You can’t look – wrapping your arms around yourself. You don’t think you’ll run this time. Face it head on, let it be over now in full. Sam’s voice rings shrill, the sound of your name and curses and accusations, fighting a futile fight against his father’s even baritone, the sound of the slamming door, and then silence. When you turn back over your shoulder, they’ve stepped outside together, leaving you alone inside the house.

He’d asked you once what you wanted, and you can’t fathom what the point of it had been. What does it matter what I want? That’s the least significant thing here. It always was.

When he finally comes back inside, you’re dressed, lost bra retrieved, your bag packed and sitting at your feet. You’d gone into the kitchen just before, taken a peek at the pie, and you were right, and you don’t know how he could have possibly known, but he’d gotten you rhubarb. Your face is dry now, no tears and no will to cry. There’s nothing to speak of in his gaze when he leans back against the door to look at you, swallowing down words you’re sure will mean nothing in the face of all of this. And you look at him and you love him and you think, I was married to a man once and now I’m not and now I’m with his father and I love him in the way I never loved the son; and so now, I must ask myself, am I merely looking for the love of lesser man, who could have never given me what I needed, in the eyes of a man who seems to have all the answers?

You don’t think so. And yet, there are still no answers to be had, and no questions left to ask.

“I’m going this time,” In case he has designs to force you to stay, and even though there’s a light of acceptance in his eyes, he still shakes his head. Swallows and gathers his seams about himself before he says, “You aren’t leaving me,” gaze churning from warry to flinty to resolved.

“I was never supposed to stay at all. I was never supposed to be for you. You said so yourself– you said we couldn’t fall in love. That I wasn't for you.” You get to your feet, pulling your purse over your shoulder, and he rushes towards you, pushing the bag back down to the floor, taking your face in his hands hard, something like panic in his eyes and in the air and in the vibration of his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, none of that matters– Whatever was before, whatever was in the past doesn’t mean shit when it’s just you and me here together–” And you’re crying now, real, great sobs of grief.

“You were the one that said we couldn’t fall in love,” you cry again, try and pull away, but he holds you to himself, squeezes you against him, shivers like he too is crying, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I was a fucking idiot, a damn liar. There was never any other option, baby.” Most terrible of terrible truths, you’d both known if for the lie it was the moment he’d said it, even before, probably. You stand limply in the circle of his embrace. He’d said once that he’d been a coward not to go out and look for you, but you know the opposite is true. No one is more of a coward than you were for not having waited for him. For having been so desperate for love, you’d been willing to settle for the wrong kind. You’ll never be able to settle for false comfort like that again, and it’s all his fault. “You’ve ruined me now. I’m ruined.”

He pulls back to take your face in his hands again, and you were right, he is crying. “I’m ruined! And I need you to give me another chance. I demand another chance– to… to fix this. To–”

But another chance for what? To change what? “He’s your son, and I only want you to be happy.” And you know he couldn’t ever be happy, truly happy, estranged from his only child. After all, like he’d said, the theft of him had been the worst thing ever done. You wouldn’t commit a crime like that against Joel also, never.

“Baby, please, I think… I– I love–”

“Please–” You press the tips of your fingers to his mouth, silencing him. “Please, don’t do this to me now.” It makes you angry, this intent of his to trap you here with his love when there’s no room for you to stay. You turn away, picking up your bag again, but he snatches you back into himself, wrapping his big arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest. And you’d struggle if you could, but there’s so little fight left in you. “You’re the one that said – you said we couldn’t!”

“I know what I fucking said,” he spits, voice so angry it almost frightens you. “But there’s still– We have to talk, we have to–”

“What can you possibly imagine there’s left to say?”

“Everything.”

“Or nothing.”

“Look at me. Look at me–” He pulls your head back and to the side by your chin. There’s a bright flush sitting high on his cheekbones, and his eyes shift quickly back and forth between yours, searching for a way to fix this. To fix the good thing that’s now been broken. His thumb strokes the point of your chin softly, and he presses his mouth slowly to yours, eyes open to watch for your reaction. “This wasn’t a mistake,” he tells you, “We weren’t a mistake.” Weren’t. The final nail in the coffin. “I know, I know that there are so many things– that we can’t… but just– just stand here with me for one minute, please. Just give me one more second, and I’ll–”

He doesn’t finish the thought, and you let him kiss you one last time. And when he pulls back, because it doesn’t feel like it really matters, and because you just want to hear the sound of it coming out of your mouth, because you wish it was true and not the complete opposite, because you want to be as cruel and ugly outside as you feel on the inside, you whisper, “I hate you,” a full bodied lie.

His eyes shutter and flicker for a moment, a wash of hurt suffusing them. But because he’s never been a weak man and because he’s always been honest, and he’s always, always above everything else, been good, he says, “And I love you,” and there it is. You’d thought you wanted to hear the sound of that too, but now that you have, it’s more terrible than you could have ever possibly imagined. And after that, there really is nothing left to say.

Joel goes to see his brother afterwards because it’s what he always does and who he always goes to when he’s lost. When a son in the shape of a man made of nothing but childish fear and anger and hurt, had appeared one day, dropped out of the blue sky, onto his front porch, when he realized he wanted his daughter-in-law in a way no good man should. And now, that he’s admitted, because the realization had already been there, swift and uncompromising, the admittance had been all that was left, the hard going part, that he was in love with you – in love with the woman who had been married to his son, here he finds himself again. Lost and weak and two feet tall, made of nothing but hollow bones. “I’m not myself,” he tells Tommy, and then amends the lie because he’s not come here to tell lies. “She’s made me into someone I don’t recognize and wish I could be forever.” How would he get his old self back now? Impossible. You’d taken him away with you, he was only half made now, half man, half strength. And Tommy is understanding because it has always only been the two of them, and he’s always seen Joel for exactly who he is without judgement. The most honest eyes in the whole world, his brother. “I'm afraid that she’s the love of my life. I’m afraid that I’m not really so afraid at all. And she won’t even talk to me.” You’d left his house a week and a day ago, and Joel was going out of his mind, losing pieces of himself along the way, his sanity, his sense of right and wrong, his self restraint, self possession. He was about to do something crazy, he felt it gnawing and itching at his bones. He could barely remember the look of betrayal in his own son’s eyes amidst the madness of the memory of the hurt in yours, the sight of you walking away from him. “And my son. My son, my child, Tommy, he hates me. And I’m in love with the woman he used to be married to, who he hurt. And he’s a cruel and small man, and he needs me. He needs my help, and I have a responsibility to him. But Tommy– Tommy, I love her. She’s mine. And what am I going to do? What am I going to say to him? How will I ever face him again? She’s mine, and I– I can’t explain it, I can’t excuse it. But she’s mine– she’s my woman. She belongs to me. I know this as well as I know my own name, my own face.”

And his brother, his brother, his brother who always understands him, who always stands beside him, he claps him on the shoulder and says, “If anyone can find a way, Joel, it’s you. I know you can. You’re stronger and smarter than anyone I’ve ever known. And you don’t abandon yours.” And so Joel must believe him because Tommy is his brother, and he knows him, and he knows that even though he’s weak now, even if he must let himself be weak now, in the face of all of this, Joel is not truly a weak man where it counts.

You and Sam had only ever spoken once on the topic of children. It was, from the first moment broached, a non possibility, not even half of an option. Devastating, but now, all this time later, almost like a grace from God. You’d wanted a baby so badly, more than anything in the whole world, and he would not give you one. He’d said your desire for a child was incongruous with your cold nature, how frigid you were.

And you’d been so long, caught in the who am I, in the what am I doing. You never stopped to ask why. Molded into a bad shape, but mute and deaf to the intricacies of what had carved you so. You’d needed to destroy yourself entirely, tear down everything around yourself, and then recreate yourself and everything else in your life in a new image. Perhaps, then, you’d finally have the chance to be good.

Your husband’s father had given you this. Joel had given you this.

And Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. How to tell him that you’re sorry? That you’re vile and cruel and yes, even cold sometimes, but for him, for him you can find it in yourself to be soft, something to be forgiven, you hope. His son had called you a prude, and then, his father’s whore. Did it matter what the truth was? You weren’t so sure. Did you want Joel because you were a whore? Because your own father had never loved you, and you were thus desperate to fill that void left by lesser, crueler men? Did it matter? You hated the idea that this desire for him had to have been born by consequence of another man. What about what you wanted? What about the fact that it felt good when he was inside of you? When he gave it to you rough and hard and when he told you that you belonged to him because you did, because it was the truth. What about the fact that you were in love with him? That should have counted more because you said it counted more. And then that was it, nothing more to the thing of it. So what if he was the father of the man who’d been your husband? The man who’d stolen all of your surety, your passion, yourself. Sometimes, retribution feels fucking good. So what about it? And then, and after all, you were in love with him. So what did it all matter after that?

People liked to say that sometimes a bad thing is worth it if it feels good enough. But what if you didn't think it was bad at all, and what if it didn’t just feel good enough? What if it’s actually everything, the best thing you’d ever had in your whole life? And what if it is simply and solely, or maybe even also, who cares, who cares, what if it is simply because it’s Joel? Joel who is beautiful and strong and good. Maybe even perfect in a way that you need.

He’d told you once that he’d never had the chance to be angry, that it had been stolen from him, the worst thing ever done to me, he’d said. You know that you could never do that to him. Never hurt him in that way. And there might be so many options. Choices. Truths. Yourself. Finally, you are only yourself. Good in the way he’d shown you to be. In a way that did not bow to anything but the sort of goodness you needed. But Joel; above all else, Joel. He is the first choice, and everything else seems inconsequential after that. What is goodness worth in the face of all he’s given you?

So, you sit now, within the basin of your empty bathtub, no more leaky kitchen sink echoing through your empty apartment, he’d fixed it weeks ago, and peer over the lip of the tub. And there, blinking up at you from the face of the skinny pink and white stick, is your answer to goodness. It had always been within yourself. And you think, if it must be just the two of us now, then let it. After all, your father has finally taught me how to be good.

End.

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jeonggukookies · 26 days

Text

crown's kingdom || two

summary: now engaged to prince jungkook, you both must figure a way to make this alliance work while your enemies try to tear it apart.

– genre: royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au, prince!jungkook, queen!reader, arranged marriage - fluff/angst

– word count 4637

– warnings: please read note if you haven't read changes

index || one

“Look what we have here.” Despite your eyes being completely shut, you knew who took a seat next to you on the bench by recognizing his voice. “I want to say what a beautiful dress you have on there, but I’m afraid I have to tell you the truth. Your morning dress looks like a tablecloth for afternoon lunch.”

To start off your mornings, you woke up before the sun, craving to have at least an hour alone in the chapel, free from anyone to interrupt your morning meditation and prayers. It was one of the few times when you were alone, not surrounded by any servants or guards. You were able to find solace—until Jungkook came.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of having your presence near me at this time?” You asked politely, still with your eyes closed and your hands pressed together, fingers pointed upwards, deep in prayer.

For the last week, you and Jungkook had been doing an excellent job avoiding each other despite the public announcement of the engagement. You always tried to make your schedule as busy as it could be, not wanting to spend a second alone with him. You filled your time up with more violin lessons and analyzing war strategies and patterns from your father’s old journal. Eventually, you were going to have to interact with Jungkook and fool everyone that the two of you were in love, but you didn’t expect him to find out about your schedule, taking the time to wake up early to come find you in the prayer room.

“Perhaps the dress would be better as a tablecloth,” he suggested, pulling at the puffy sleeves, attempting to get a rise out of you. “And perhaps, you on that particular table.”

“To the Divine Spirit, please forgive me for all I have sinned and will sin.” Opening your eyes, you smacked Jungkook’s arm, annoyed by his antics. With a smirk on his face, he’s chuckling, satisfied to get a reaction out of you.

“It’s almost six in the morning, and you really want to start off the day by pissing me off?” You gritted through your teeth, trying not to raise your voice. “Can you be a pain in the ass somewhere else? And not in this sacred space? A place where I find peace?”

“I quite believe this is the perfect time and place to do it,” he remarked, trying to hide the mischievous smile on his face. “You have to get used to it if we are to be wed soon.”

“Do not remind me of this terrible tragedy.” You groaned. “May we pray that the fates decree our union not come to pass."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed with your response. “Why do you act like a grandma? No one our age speaks like that or wakes up this early to pray! Just say, ‘God, I hope we don’t marry.’”

“Are the words too big for you to understand?” You pushed your lower lip out, pretending to feel bad for him. “Is that why you were engaged to Comet? The girl whose named after her own country but can’t spell her name without help from her tutors? You know stupid plus stupid doesn’t cancel each other out, right?”

“And you know praying every day isn’t going to erase any of the sins you’ve committed in the past, right?” He mocked. “I’ve been wondering where you’ve been the last couple of days, and now I realize that I shouldn’t have gone through so many people to find out that you wake up so early to pray. I should have remembered you were so boring.”

You scoffed. “Wow, you must be really thinking about me all the time? To be asking others about my schedule? To be wondering where I am at? You must not have a life, huh?”

“Alright, it’s already been one week, and I’ve had enough. I don’t think I can handle you for the rest of my life.”

“Then do something about it,” you snapped.

“You don’t think I haven’t?” He snapped back, looking at you with the same amount of anger in his eyes. “What do you think I was trying to do for the last week? While you were hiding away in your room, I was trying to secretly change this alliance. Maybe with your help, I can easily break off the engagement and toss you like a pebble in the lake.”

For a moment, you were offended that you were disposable to him, making it seem like you desperately needed him and his country more than he needed you.

You can play this game too, you thought to yourself.

With your index finger, you gestured for him to come closer to you, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “And if you shall give up the position of ruling two countries, maybe even three one day, would the current King of Aurum be happy with that? Could he let you live in peace if you were to ruin the alliance without his permission?”

Jungkook learned his lesson for the day and finally shut his mouth, letting the devotion area be peaceful for the rest of the morning. He put his hands together, silently mouthing along to some basic scriptures.

“Amen,” you whispered, putting your hands together, ready to medicate and pray next to Jungkook.

_________

Dasher, the new Prince of Cometes, could have gone to command his new military forces, started imposing taxes, or simply have done absolutely nothing as his first task as a royal. Instead, he decided the first thing to do was to go to Aurum to renegotiate their alliance as their circumstances had now changed.

After eating breakfast, you were asked to accompany Jungkook to greet the new prince. His parents thought it was a perfect opportunity to showcase the new alliance between the two countries.

“I’m glad you changed out of that old curtain you had earlier,” Jungkook said when you arrived next to his side. The two of you were outside the palace, waiting for the Cometes’s carriage. “You would have made it seem like I downgraded.”

“Well, I sure did.” You forced a smile, looking straight ahead where the horses were coming at a steady pace a few meters away from you. “Don’t understand why I have to be here like I’m you’re fucking babysitter.”

“Here he comes.” You turned your head to look at Jungkook, and you find him already staring back at you. He was holding his breath, having a tense look on his face. It had been a while since you’ve seen Jungkook look this apprehensive. “Can you do this?”

When the two of you were learning all the types of ballroom dances, Jungkook’s face was always pale before he had to perform and get evaluated by our instructor. You knew it wasn’t because he was ten years old, dancing with a girl; he was a perfectionist, afraid to take the wrong step and embarrass himself in front of everyone.

As he had gotten older, he had done a better job at hiding his anxiety, trying to look like the Golden Prince everyone saw him to be. He’s been doing such a great job, that even you forgot he had the capability to be nervous. He wasn’t just a snarky and egomaniacal prince; Jungkook, too, was a human with fears and imperfections.

“Absolutely.” Without giving you any context, you knew what he was asking. He needed your reassurance—that the two of you could convince the future King of Cometes, that your shared hatred will be hidden by the love of your countries. “Don’t be afraid.”

Before the horses came to a complete stop, Jungkook straightened his posture, taking a deep breath. No longer looking nervous, he looked like he was ready to stand his ground, determined to become one of the best kings.

Stepping out of the carriage, a silver-haired man as tall as Jungkook appeared. The man was wearing a close-fitting gray velvet doublet, embellished with white pearls along the seams. With a black linen shirt underneath, the pearls were able to stand out more, showing everyone his new power.

“Prince Jungkook,” the man greeted. “Well isn't it quite lovely to see you again?”

“And now as equals this time, Prince Dasher,” Jungkook slyly commented. “I hope the ride here wasn’t too terrible with all the rain and mud this season.”

“Not at all.” The man turned his focus on you, looking up and down, trying to analyze who you were to stand so close to the Prince of Aurum. “You must be Queen of Caelestia.”

“Please address me as Y/N,” you said politely. “It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Dasher.”

“As to you, Your Grace.” He took a bow, showing his respects. “The rumors must be true then,” he said. “The two of you are going to wed.”

“Unless you’re here to propose to me, then plans can always be altered and rearranged,” Jungkook joked lightly, trying to ease the mood. You bit your lower lip to hold yourself back from laughing at his attempt. The joke itself wasn’t that funny, but the fact that Jungkook thought it was appropriate to say.

“I can assure you that I will not bore you with a proposal of mine.” Dasher took another look at you and Jungkook. He was trying to read the two of you. “And is your bride joining us for our negotiation?”

“She will not,” Jungkook answered right away, not giving you a second to react. There was some hostility in his voice. “Do you request her presence at our meeting between our two countries?”

“Just interesting that the future queen of Aurum will not be there.” Dasher raised his eyebrows. “Unless…”

“Well, we haven’t even decided on invitations! But I promise you that you’ll be one of the first to receive them.” You paused to look at Jungkook, linking your arm to his. “Isn’t that right, Darling?”

He stared back at your eyes, deeply as if he were trying to your deepest, darkest secrets. Letting a small scoff, he smiled and looked back at Dasher. “Well, now that we got introductions out of the way, why don’t we head towards the affairs room to discuss the future of our people?”

________

With the arrival of Prince Dasher, you were expected to attend the evening activities. Typically, the evening activities were full of entertainment like live music, dancing, theater, and more. They were loud and socially draining at times, but you loved going, seeing it as an opportunity to enrich life and cultivate an appreciation for arts and culture.

When walking into the courtiers’ hall, you can tell the King and Queen of Aurum went the extra mile in making tonight’s activities more lavish than usual, catering to their guests. You noticed how there were more servants around, refilling drinks and replacing empty food trays as quickly as they could. They were even using the fancy china that the Queen rarely used, wanting to keep it in mint condition. There were more musicians hired as well. With more musicians, they were able to proudly and loudly play traditional Cometes music, hoping to make the Cometes people feel at home.

There were more people today, all participating in the elegant court dances, and board games and many were socializing, especially the women, probably hoping to find a suitor among the new guests.

“Queen Y/N.” You turned your head to see Kim Taehyung, a Luxuria ambassador who resided in Aurum Court. “It’s a blessing to see you entertained by tonight’s festivities.”

“Well, that can’t be right.” You took a few steps to be face-to-face with him. “Aren’t you always praying for my downfall?”

For the last two years, Kim Taehyung has been a cunning diplomat. On paper, his presence at court might be to handle situations between his country and Aurum, but really, his true mission was to antagonize you at court. Despite his constant terrorizing, you’ve kept your eye on him, following the rule: Keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer.

He chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t seen you around court to give you my congratulations on your engagement to Jungkook.”

“Thank you, Taehyung.” You forced a smile, and he smiled back.

“And how has this engagement been so far?”

“Quite amazing,” you lied. “Thank you for asking.”

“Is that why everyone is talking about Jungkook and your reluctance to marry each other?” He asked. “You know, Luxuria intelligence predicted this happening years ago. That somehow you would find a way to marry the next King of Aurum. That somehow the alliance between Aurum and Cometes would fall through.”

“If you want to take your anger or frustration out on someone for the sudden change, Prince Dasher is present at court today as well.” You pointed in the direction where Dasher was. “Shall I introduce the two of you and be on my way?”

He took a step closer, trying to intimidate you. “How about instead you go on your way back to Caelestia and abandon this alliance with Aurum?”

“Is that a threat?” You asked, raising your eyebrows and letting out a humorless laugh. “Are you seriously threatening me?”

“Not a threat,” he insisted. “Consider this as….a chance to save your country and people.”

The smile disappeared from your face. You gritted through your teeth, “To save my country and my people, I need to take the chance and marry Jungkook for his armies against YOUR people!”

“Then take the first step and go back home,” he suggested.

“And then how long would Luxuria come after my throne?”

He refused to answer your question, changing the subject immediately. “Do not beg for mercy when I have given you the chance to correct yourself.”

“And have you and your queen considered that mercy doesn’t need to be begged if Luxuria would stop sending its forces to my border?”

He looked around, seeing if anyone was watching your interaction with him. He then smiled. “You may have been safe and across the sea all this time, but do not forget, Queen Y/N, even monarchs cannot escape death.”

For a moment, you froze in place, feeling the anger grow inside your body. From a young age, you were taught that monarchs cannot show their emotions, and they shouldn’t especially show it to their enemies.

Before you could react, Jungkook appeared by your side, putting his arm around you, hand on your shoulder. “Darling! Did you see that the servants made pavlova? We have to go get some before it all runs out, especially since these fruits aren’t even in season!”

“Excuse us,” you mumbled under your breath, directed to Taehyung.

Moving his arm, Jungkook then had his hand gently wrapped around your right wrist, pulling you into a private corner away from all the guests. As your back leaned against the wall, Jungkook let go of your wrist and stood directly in front of you, so you were face to face.

“Don’t push me away,” he said in a low voice. “Are you okay?”

“He-he.” Out of nowhere, you started heavily breathing as if there was a limited amount of air in the room. You were unable to finish your thoughts, interrupted by every scenario going through your head. Tears were about to flood your eyes, ready to leave wet trails on your face.

“Look at me,” Jungkook instructed, cupping your face with his hands, his eyes directly piercing into your soul once again. “Repeat after me. You are a queen.”

“Threat-threatened my-“ Jungkook cut you off.

“I am a queen,” he emphasized, repeating himself slowly this time. “Say it with me. I am a queen.”

“I am a queen,” you repeated, trying to believe the truth in those words. A couple more times, you repeated in a hushed tone, “I am a queen.”

“Don’t let anyone see that you’re afraid,” he said after it seemed like you were finally calming down. “Let me be the only person to see you shaking like a small useless chihuahua.”

“Are you calling me—“ He cut you off again, not letting you finish his sentence.

“I know you’re not useless.” His hands held your face a little tighter, still refusing to break eye contact with you. “You’re a queen. You will be remembered as the benevolent queen of three countries one day. And while all of everyone’s great great great grandchildren are learning about you in history books, no one will remember his name. Don’t let him get to you now and let him become a footnote in the future.”

Nodding, a tear slipped, and you quickly felt Jungkook wiping the tear with his thumb, not letting anyone else see a Queen in a vulnerable state. Your breathing was almost back to normal, feeling some comfort from his words.

“Can you do this?” He asked, repeating his question from earlier.

Despite growing up together all these years, you and Jungkook had never been this up close and personal. Even when paired up for ballroom dancing, the two of you danced awkwardly together, barely touching his fingertips. It felt unreal that you and Jungkook were now alone, staring at each other, ignoring the rest of the world around you. “Yes.”

Jungkook stared at you for another two seconds before he realized the position the two of you were in. His grip became stiff and rigid for a moment before he finally removed his hands from your face and cleared his throat, pretending as if he wasn’t trying to protect you in his arms.

“Thanks.” You coughed awkwardly, still standing in front of him. The two of you never shared an intense moment like that before, a moment filled with insecurity, vulnerability, and comfort.

Jungkook sighed and looked back at you. Without any verbal confirmation, you knew that he silently agreed that everything would go back to normal, that the two of you would go back to pushing each other’s buttons. “I should get going.”

Before you could say anything, Jungkook started to walk away. He was probably already erasing the moment out of his head.

You had to remind yourself that the two of you will wed for your countries, that it won’t be for true love or happily ever after. It'll be a marriage full of moments like these that will mean nothing to him. And you hoped they would mean nothing to you.

__________

By the next morning, Luxuria went through with their warning and sent their troops to your border, threatening your people.

“Once we received word this morning from your mother, we sent supplies to your troops.” You had barged into the room of affairs, surprising Jungkook and the Queen by your sudden appearance. “They will be there as soon as they can. We sent our fastest rider.”

The King didn’t take his eyes off the document he was reading. It seemed like the King had expected you to come in urgently while the Queen, sitting next to him, was visibly annoyed with your sudden intrusion. Jungkook, standing to the side of the room, looked baffled, unsure if he should laugh at your courage or be displeased.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing your head. “These supplies will go a long way, but supplies aren’t the only thing we need.”

“Let me guess..You want soldiers?” The King asked, still not looking at you. “I am afraid that I cannot give you men, but you have my deepest sympathy.”

“I am asking for more than sympathy. I need men, or else these supplies are useless.”

“The men that you need are the same men that we cannot give you.” He finally looked up and shrugged his shoulders.

“As Queen, I have the responsibility to find solutions, and that was through our alliance with your country, which you are not honoring.”

“Keep in mind that you are not the only one with a country to think about,” the King replied. “I am putting my country and its people first.”

“I will not forget this when I am both Queen of Caelestia and Aurum,” you challenged. “I will always put my country first. Do not hold me hostage and fulfill this alliance, or let me go.”

“The two of you need to learn this.” The King paused to point at you and Jungkook. “You are royals. You DO NOT have the luxury of doing what you want. You do what is best for your country. Perhaps, the two of you should stop wasting time. Instead of trying to think of ways to get out of your marriage, start taking action.”

“Father, I think we should help.” You took a quick look at Jungkook, surprised by his answer. “If Caelestia loses, that’ll only make Luxuria a bigger threat to our country.”

“Get out. The two of you, out now,” the King firmly demanded.

The sound of the doors slamming behind you echoed throughout the whole castle. You took a deep breath and started walking to your chambers until Jungkook caught up, walking next to you.

“Hey, I think you’re right. I am on your side.”

“You are?” You were taken back from his statement, not expecting him to be on your side for politics. “Why?”

“Because after your country, mine will be next,” Jungkook explained. “By working together, we can slowly defeat the Luxurian military. I just need some time to convince my father.”

Caught up in a moment of joy, you wrapped your arms around Jungkook, pulling him into a tight hug. Your happiness must have overcome the supposed feelings of animosity you had towards him. “Thank you!”

Jungkook hesitantly and slowly embraced you back.

__________

“This must be the day pigs are going to grow wings and fly,” Lady Adoree exaggerated.

Ladies-in-waiting were the Queen’s female companions, typically wealthy noblewomen. They accompanied you, staying by your side for most events. Not only were they your attendants, but they were also your closest friends. And you were the closest to Lady Adoree.

“Trust me, you’re not the only one who’s surprised by all of this,” you mumbled under your breath.

“I’ve been gone for seven days, and somehow, you and Jungkook are engaged to each other.” She had traveled to Aureus, the capital of Aurum, for the last week to meet with her a suitor, which did not end up well. “Then, he’s willingly trying to help you as if he didn’t try to sabotage this alliance or even your whole life here.”

“Excuse me, Lady Adoree.” The two of you were still at the dining table after finishing lunch, catching up. You looked up and saw Prince Dasher waiting behind Lady Adoree’s chair. “Can I please have a moment with your queen?”

“Prince Dasher,” you greeted as Lady Adoree stood up from her chair, allowing Dasher to take her seat. “I thought you were on your way home.”

“Well, it turns out we still have more negotiations with Aurum to discuss, which is delaying our departure,” he said. “It is not a total disaster as I am blessed to spend another second with a beautiful queen.”

“Are these sweet words repeated to every other queen?” You quipped.

“Just you,” he claimed. “No one else can hear those words from me.”

In the corner of your eye, you could see a vein popping out of Lady Adoree’s forehead. She was frowning, not happy that she had given up her seat just for him to be flirty. Lady Adoree hated talking to guys and drove them away just as much as you did.

“I’m not new to this game,” you reminded him. “What is desired from me?”

Prince Dasher leaned into your ear, whispering, “I heard Prince Jungkook cannot give you the help you need for the Luxuria Troops.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to dull up any emotions on your face. “I’m still not hearing what you want from me.”

Instead of verbally answering, Prince Dasher cleared his throat and pushed his chair back, almost hitting Lady Adoree. He then kneeled on his right knee, causing Lady Adoree to gasp loudly.

“What are you doing?!” You growled. “Get up.”

“My desire is you,” he said. “Now I am no longer the King’s Bastard and am finally the legitimate Prince of Cometes. I am here to seek out the best deal and I believe Caelestia is that.”

“To my knowledge, everyone including yourself knows that I am already betrothed!” You looked around, hoping no one else was in the room witnessing this act.

“I can give you the men you need to fight Luxuria,” he promised.

You sighed. “My attention is yours.”

He beamed at your defeat. “Perhaps the dissolution of your alliance with Aurum will help your country, Queen Y/N.”

Your jaw clenched. “And if we were to wed, do you really think Luxuria will just stop?”

“I think you’ve forgotten,” he stressed. “Luxuria and Cometes have been allies for centuries. I hope you consider this offer.”

__________

Jungkook stayed silent.

It was after midnight, and the two of you met in a private room on the other side of the castle, away from everyone else. No one really came to this side of the castle. It was mainly used to have secret meetings, not wanting to be seen by anyone else.

You were pacing around the room, playing with your hands, anxious to hear his thoughts after telling him Prince Dasher’s offer as he sat down on the bench and had his chin resting on his cupped hands together.

“Are you going to say something?” You stopped walking back and forth and came to a stop. “What are you thinking about?”

He sighed before standing back up to face you. “I-I think you should do it.”

“What?” Your heart sank, pain settling in your chest. Despite being the Queen of Caelestia, you viewed Aurum as if it were your home to you. Even though you had no intention of ruling Aurum and this alliance came out of nowhere, you felt a sense of happiness that you could finally give back to the country that gave you everything.

Aurum was a part of you whether you liked it or not, and with Jungkook’s answer, it seemed like Aurum didn’t want you. And that he didn’t want you. There were a bunch of conflicting emotions going through your mind, but you pushed them away, needing to think about your country. “Are you serious?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Think about it, Y/N. How could you pass this up?”

“What happened to being on my side?!” You exclaimed. “And you’re just going to let it go? Just like that.”

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, quickly taking your hands and holding them. “But there’s nothing I can do to change my father’s mind…to help your country. I’ve tried and tried. We are just in this alliance, and you are getting nothing..”

“You don’t want to marry me,” you said bitterly, letting go of his hold. “That’s the real reason, isn’t it?”.

“It’s not that,” Jungkook denied. There was a sense of desperation in his voice. “Believe me, I know I’ve been trying to get out of this alliance. But I’m not telling you to do it because of that. I’m telling you to do this, because this is what is best for your country.”

“Is that really it?”

“You’ve been Queen your whole life. You should have known that alliances can easily shift,” Jungkook quickly snapped, changing his demeanor suddenly. “Your country gets the help it needs, and my country will not be ruled by an Ice Queen.”

And Jungkook walked away like it was the easiest thing in the world to do.

#bts fanfic #bangtanwriters-net #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #crown kingdom #royalty au #jungkook royalty #enemies to lovers #jungkook angst #mine #jungkook x reader

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luxaofhesperides · 22 days

Note

Please continue ghostlights multiverse constant au with Earth 0 having a happy ending together cuz halfa Danny is impossible to really kill anymore pleaseeeeeee 😭

(part one)

Danny is destined to die once he meets Duke. He knows this; he’s seen how their friendship leads to Danny’s death is so many different lives. There’s no doubt in his mind that the only way to ensure Danny lives a long life is to stay away from him.

Which is why the universe decides to make Danny pop up constantly. It’s clearly trying to get him killed, and Duke refuses to let that happen!

It starts innocently enough. They cross paths briefly at a bus stop, bumping into each other as Duke gets off the bus and Danny moves to go on it. He recognizes Danny immediately, feels a little spark go through him when their shoulders brush against each other. Something in him says I know you. I miss you.

He pulls back a step and offers a quick apology. Danny waves it off and looks at him as through searching for something. He opens his mouth to say something, but Duke can feel the threads of fate tighten around their throats and hurries away.

He waits until he hears the bus pull away, then glances behind him to watch it go before he slows down to a normal walking pace and heads for the mall where he planned to meet his friends.

Duke’s heart pounds in his chest. He can’t get Danny’s eyes out of his head; so painfully blue, so nostalgic, so doomed.

This is for the best, he reminds himself. This is so Danny can live. That’s all that matters.

The moment’s passed, anyways. They’re still strangers, and they’ll stay that way.

He takes another minute to collect himself, then plasters on a smile and heads into the mall to find his friends.

The next six times, Duke has to save Danny as the Signal, appearing just in time to stop a mugging, an armed store robbery, a car trying to run Danny over, and fighting off Man-Bat who, for some reason, took one look at Danny and went fuck this guy, actually.

Duke is stressed. He’s Stressed™ and if anyone tries to take out Danny again he’s just going to start screaming.

For whatever reason, the universe is just out to get Danny now that they’ve run into each other once. Duke’s life is a cosmic joke, and he’s stuck in the center of it all waiting for the moment comedy turns into tragedy.

It’s gotten to the point that Duke expects to find Danny in some sort of dangerous situation as soon as he starts patrol. He’s starting to dread going out, but he needs to; Gotham needs the Signal to keep the streets safe during the day, and Danny needs Duke to save his incredibly unlucky ass nearly every single day.

The first two hours go fine. He stops an armed robbery and a car jacking, chases away some creeps from the working girls, and gets a blueberry muffin from the bakery that’s been around forever, on account of the old woman running it thinking he’s a good lad who needs to eat more.

Duke begins to hope that he’ll have a quiet patrol. He begins to hope that Danny is safe and not in mortal danger for once.

His hopes are immediately dashed when he spots Danny on a rooftop, standing way too close to the edge.

Heart in his throat, Duke crosses the space between them in an instant, slingshotting himself forward through shadows.

He intends to pull Danny back, to say something, to try and shake some common sense into him so he actually has a chance at living a long life. Duke doesn’t get to do any of that; as soon as he steps out of the shadows, Danny turns to face him with a tired smile.

“There you are,” he says. “I knew you’d find me.”

“What? I—listen, can you step back from the ledge for me?”

Danny steps back, keeping his eyes on Duke. He doesn’t seem to mind that the Signal is so hesitant in this moment, keeping his distance.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he says, as if he never stopped talking, “But I had a feeling. You’ve probably had it too, right? It’s why we keep being pushed together, and why my luck has been so awful ever since I came to Gotham.”

He knows, is the first thing Duke things. But how can that be? If Danny knows about all those other universes where they had each other, then he knows how it ends. If he knows, then he should be trying to keep his distance from both Duke and the Signal before he gets killed.

“It’s you under that mask, isn’t it? Duke.”

The way Danny says his name brings him back to all those other lives where they had each other from the start. He sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s always known Duke.

It’s only when Duke says, “How?” that Danny falters, fear briefly crossing his expression before it settles into something more neutral. His fingers begin to pull at the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, confidence melting away.

“Do you… not know me?”

The quietness of his voice, the fragility of it, breaks Duke’s heart. He doesn’t stop to think before he answers, “I know you. Of course I know you, Danny.” Then he blinks, shakes his head, and says, “Wait. No. I know of you. We haven’t really met this life.”

“It’s the dreams, right? They make things so confusing.”

“You’ve been getting them too?”

“I may be the cause of them,” Danny says with a wince. “Due to some, uh… ghostly magic shenanigans. It wasn’t on purpose! But it is kinda my fault.”

Ghostly magic? Okay, sure, why not. Who is Duke to judge the bizarre things that exist in their world. He has superpowers and his biological father is an evil immortal. He has absolutely no leg to stand on when it cames to the weird and the unexpected. Might as well roll with it, since this is his life now.

Besides, there’s more important things to focus on, such as: “Okay, so, just to be on the same page, you’ve been getting the same dreams as me, yeah? The ones where you always die? Those dreams?”

And Danny, very casually, answers, “Yeah.”

“Dude,” Duke says, pained, “If you know that meeting me leads to your death, then why are you seeking me out?!”

“What?”

“Have you not seen how you die young in every single universe? Because I have! And it’s messing me up!”

Danny blinks at him, then looks guilty, hunching in on himself. “Oh, yeah. That. Uh, yeah, so…” he trails off and bites his lip, gaze kept downwards so he doesn’t have to meet Duke’s eyes. “I do die young always, yeah, but it’s totally not your fault! I just do that!”

“You just do that,” Duke repeats, pained.

“Yeah. I just die young.”

“Is this somehow not a problem for you.”

To his immense displeasure, Danny has the nerve to shrug and say, “Eh, not really.”

“Danny.”

“It’s okay! Really!” Danny says, a little frantically, “And also it has nothing to do with you! None of my deaths have been your fault, it’s just a thing that happens to me!” And then, in a quiet, rushed mumble, “Also I already died in this universe so it’s fine.”

A strangled sound bursts out of Duke’s throat as he tries very hard not to start yelling. He puts his head in his hands and holds back a heavy sigh because the boy of his literal dreams is stressing him out so much he’s about to dissolve into ashes and ascend to a higher realm where he has no worries.

Unfortunately, he’s not quite there yet, so Duke has to deal with living in the reality where Danny admits he already died because that’s just what he does: die young.

Which is, apparently, not Duke’s fault at all. Cool.

Cool cool cool. He’s definitely not going to have a breakdown about this.

A hand gently tugs on his wrist, making him lift his head to meet Danny’s worried gaze. “Hey, you alright? Do you wanna sit down for a minute?”

And you know what? Duke does want to sit down for a minute. He’s earned it.

He nods, and Danny carefully guides him back to where the roof access door is, so they can sit with their backs against something and be away from the edge where curious eyes might spot them. It feels easy, practiced, as if they’ve done this a thousand times before instead of just now having their first conversation. Their lives have been linked and twisted together, though only for a short time before death takes Danny away.

He knows Danny, despite how illogical it is, and that’s what makes him take off his helmet and exposure his face to the world.

Danny knows him too, after all.

There is no hiding from someone who is meant to be in his life.

Danny’s smiling softly when he turns to look at him. “Hey, Duke. It’s good to see you properly. Is it weird to say that I’ve missed you even though we’ve technically never met in this life?”

“Nah,” he replies, “I missed you too. Please stop scaring me like that.”

“I make no promises. Expect for this: dying won’t take me away from you in this life. I’ve got it handled.”

“I don’t… I don’t think that’s someone anyone can have handled.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Danny repeats firmly.

Duke shakes his head with a small laugh. He got so caught up in the guilt of leading to Danny’s death, of being unable to save him, of losing him in every universe, that he forgot how stubborn Danny is.

It is a weight off his chest, though. To know that it wasn’t his fault. To know that the worst has already come to pass long before they met in this universe, so they don’t have to fear the future together.

“So,” he says, “Tell me more about these magical ghostly shenanigans?”

“At least wait until the second date for personal questions,” Danny jokes.

“Okay. Wanna grab dinner tonight?”

It’s nice to see that Danny blushes easily in this universe too. “Isn’t that moving a little fast?”

“We’ve been dreaming about a bunch of other universes where we’re together. We know each other even though we don’t know each other. We’re well past moving fast, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Danny nods. “Alright. Dinner tonight, then. Take me to the best place for breakfast foods in Gotham. I’ve been craving pancakes all week.”

“Sure, I can do that. Mind giving me your number so I can figure out where to pick you up from?”

Danny nods and begins patting his pockets in search of… something. Duke means to grab his phone and hand it to Danny to get his number, but he’s quickly distracted as Danny gives up on his pockets and shoves a hand directly into his own chest.

Ghostly magic shenanigans. This is probably part of it? Danny doesn’t look alarmed by this at all, so Duke rolls with it and shoves away his shock at the sight.

“Aha!” Danny holds up a sharpie in triumph. He sure did pull that straight out of his ribcage. Duke is so chill with it.

He lets Danny take hold of his arm, removing a wrist gauntlet so he can write on the skin. The cool ink of the sharpie makes him shiver, but otherwise, he stays still. Danny writes carefully, in smooth movements. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds, then he pulls the sharpie away and blows a surprisingly cold breath against Duke’s wrist to help the ink dry faster.

“There we go,” he says with a smile. “Let me know when you wanna have our date, okay? I’m free whenever, so don’t worry about accommodating me or anything.

“I’ll text you once I’m ready,” Duke agrees. He stands up, looking over the numbers written on his wrist. He memorizes them, then puts his wrist gauntlet back on. It’s about time for him to get back to being the Signal, as much as he hates to leave Danny here when they’ve finally been able to have a quiet moment to themselves.

“I’ll see you later, then.” Danny hesitates, then leans forward and presses a quick, chaste kiss against Duke’s cheek. Duke blinks at him, stunned, his heart skipping a beat.

He doesn’t get the chance to return the gesture; Danny flushes red, backs up a few steps with a shy grin, and says, “Okay, bye Duke! Stay safe out there!” And then he’s gone, blinking out of sight, and it’s only his meta powers that let him see a faint wispy outline where Danny was.

It moves, floating up in the air, then flies away like smoke in the breeze.

Ah, Duke thinks, Ghostly. He’s a ghost. I’ll worry about that later.

His fingers brush against the spot where Danny kissed him. Then he puts his helmet back on and focuses on swinging through the streets of Gotham, ready for anything.

The sooner he gets done with patrol, the better, after all. He needs all his focus to do that so he can start getting ready for his date with Danny, the literal boy of his dreams.

This time, this life, this universe, they’re gonna do it right. They’ll make up for all the time their other selves lost. They’ll cherish every minute together, one pancake date at a time.

And to think, it only took a couple dozen different lives to get here.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #the dreams were bc danny messed w magic stuff he found in the ghost zone #and since duke is so heavily involved in all the other lives he got involved in this one too #basically the magic being like oh u want ur boy? here he is!#dannys bad luck has nothing to do w magic tho he just lives like that lmao #thanks for the prompt!

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the-badger-mole · 3 months

Note

Aang was a kid who was the sole survivor of a genocide. Why doesn't that factor in your opinion of him?

I've talked about this before, but his age and tragic backstory are irrelevant. ALL of the main characters are children with tragic backstories, and they are more empathetic, have more growth, and their tragic backstories...actually matter.

Listen, for all people whine about how often Katara talks about her mom (which isn't really that often), it's clear how her mother's death shaped her as a character. It's clear how witnessing her mother's death formed her worldview, and Kya sacrificing herself for Katara made a mark (she never turns her back on people who need her? COME ON! That is obviously her trying to save people the way she couldn't save her mother). Even her wanting to learn how to fight and not heal (which is an insane battle advantage, btw) speaks to her trauma around not being able to defend her mom.

Even Sokka's trauma around the loss of his father and not being deemed old enough (big enough/ strong enough/ smart enough) to go with Hakoda and the other warriors come through in his recurring need to prove himself (coming up with the big battle plan for DoBS, breaking his father out of prison, learning swordplay, etc.). It's woven so neatly into the narrative. His trauma matters to his story.

Toph is the least developed of the Gaang, and her issues with her parents have more impact on character than the destruction of the Air Nomads have on Aang. Heck, Zuko's entire arc hinges on compound traumas.

Meanwhile, Aang's trauma....? What trauma? Yes, the loss of the Air Nomads is a tragedy, but we, the audience, only know it's a tragedy because we have real world knowledge telling us so. Personally, I was in 3rd or 4th grade when I began learning about the Trail of Tears, and in kindergarten when I began learning about slavery (I was born in Harlem. The kindergarten I went to taught us accordingly). When I saw ATLA, I had a frame of reference for the genocide of the Air Nomads. But it didn't really seem to bother Aang all that much. Oh, sure, it did come up when it was convenient to the plot, but it mostly seemed to be a way for Aang to expound on the superiority of Air Nomad philosophy and society to whoever he's talking to. Aside from that, and his first rush of feeling when he found out what happened to them, the loss of the Air Nomads doesn't seem to effect Aang all that much. If he doesn't care about his tragic loss, why should I?

Aang is a fictional character. I don't have to extend the same pathos to him that I would to a real life person. It is the writers' duty to make me feel for him, and they did not. The way he's framed is the issue. And here is where I really start retreading things I've said before, but I think it needs to be repeated (again and again and again). Aang is not framed as someone who has a lot of growing up and learning to do. I could give him a pass on his worst traits because he's a child and still growing, but the show doesn't frame him that way. The show wants me to see him as a precocious imp who's wise-beyond-his-years but still has a cheeky lil' mischievous streak. It's not trying to frame his lying to the quarreling tribes in The Great Divide as a bump in his journey to becoming an effective leader bridging different people together. It wants the audience to laugh at him getting one over on the foolish tribes who absolutely went back to fighting as soon as Appa was out of sight. The show isn't framing his desperation to get the village in Avatar Day to like him as a foolish pursuit he needs to get over if he wants to be strong in the face of adversity. It wants us, the audience, to feel bad for him because his charm isn't immediately bringing the people over to his side. It wants us to be indignant that the villagers don't see how important Aang is and wont' support him. The show isn't framing Aang's non-con kisses with Katara as bad because it hurt her. It isn't making a point to that Aang needs to care about her feelings. It wants the audience to feel bad for Aang and hope for Katara to come around because he's A Nice Guy™️©️®️. Aang is never shown to be a particularly good friend to any of the Gaang, let alone him being kind to strangers just because that's his heart. All of that I would allow to be just him being a dumb kid with growing to do if the show hadn't made it clear that Aang was perfect and didn't have to change, and in fact the world should change for him.

Aang's age and tragic backstory are irrelevant because the show made them irrelevant. All they left us with was a Gary Stu character who hides his selfishness under a thin veneer of cheerfulness. It's not good enough.

#atla #anti aang #anti kataang #when people stop thinking of aang as a literal child and start thinking of him as a character with a role in a narrative #things in this fandom will get SO much better

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perfectfeelings · 4 months

Quote

Life biggest tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late.

Benjamin Franklin

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quotefeeling · 4 months

Quote

Life biggest tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late.

Benjamin Franklin

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blueparadis · 4 months

Text

❝ GHOST TOWN ❞ + GETO SUGURU ❪ playing ⌗4, ⌗5& ⌗6 ❫─── via radio line ❛ anatomy of emotions ❜〳 from this is what ____ feels like !

[ content & themes ] ::abo au + modern au, f!omega!reader,strangers to strangers sharing one-night-stand, unrequited feelings,abo marriage & courting rituals, hurt and angst, misunderstandings, smut, mcd. 10k word count.

[ synopsis ] :: Years after, you get a wedding invitation from one of your childhood friends; hoping to rekindle some old flames, you decide to attend the wedding yet the looming shadow of tragedies still followed you. But this time, there was someone who would lick your wounds.

[ notes ] :: i started this wip around june and since then it has been full of battles for me. Feels good to finish the first part of this. I really hope that next year is kinder than this one. thought i would not be able to finish until the Feb'2024 but here we are, so enjoy and tell me how you liked it :)) & if you have made this far then, congratulations. Stay tuned for next part, dk when will i'll be able to start writing on it, but I do wanna write part two badly SO please don't jinx it. \\ REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED \\ tagging @onisae @orchid3a

This year again, there is spring; flowers are blooming on every branch of those lonely trees, the sun is smiling, and the chirping of the birds can be heard. People are soaking themselves in this nice weather, they are welcoming it as they should, walking hand in hand in the neon-pinned streets during evenings, leaving footprints on the sand, taking selfies, and making memories to remember for the years to come, as they should; as they hope it to be. Yes, Everything is so hopeful; everything is outrageously lustrous. But for Geto Suguru, it is not. For him, the earth had already stopped turning since the advent of last spring as if the cogs of the winter suddenly started to rot with rust and now it is just blocked; the winter never stopped weeping since then and the spring never came to soothe the mourning. Geto takes a glance at the clock in the room. Nanami is busy picking up the dresses and sorting them by the hierarchy as well as the theme of rituals of the marriage ceremony which is about to commence within an hour.

“C’mon, you can’t leave just like this. The ceremonies. . . the rituals. They’re going to start soon. You can’t just leave. We need you. You’re important.” Kento finally stopped fidgeting with the clothes when Geto bothered to glance at him through the mirror amused by his tone. It is not common for Nanami to lose his composure. He is always calm and collected and never loses his cool. But today is different. Today is his day. He is going to marry the love of his life, Miss Haibara. So, he is supposed to panic, isn't that right?

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Geto conceded, adjusting his hair to tie it up in a bun. Nanami’s mouth parts in a form of protest but he is slower than usual. Before Nanami could follow him, Geto was already out of the dressing room lost in the crowd.

"But where exactly are you going, Geto-san?" Yu Haibara asked blocking his way as he turned up through the back door.

"To meet a friend," Geto remarks in a low growl and leaves.

Seeing his dearest friend, Nanami frowns he quips, "That's okay. Worry not when I'm here," keeping his hand on Kento's shoulders as a sign of assurance.

"Shouldn't you be with your sister?" Nanami quipped with pinched eyebrows.

"Well, boys are not allowed there." Haibara saunters around the room and then settles on an armchair situated on the balcony. "Plus you look like could use some help."

“I just need a house tour,” Nanami claimed as he shuffled through his clothes again. His eyes peered and stilled at his soon-to-be brother-in-law. "do you know your way around here? I mean have you been in Geto-san's house before?"

"Oh! you can trust me on this one." Haibara chuckles nervously realizing how his dearest friend and soon-to-be brother-in-law asks for that one thing he can not help with. Nanami smiles. It is amusing how he is so worked up for his sister's wedding and is trying his best to keep it together rather than sabotaging it, unlike certain someone.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Pal."

Geto hops onto his jeep staring at the crowd of the elderly people who came to give their blessings. He specifically went through the back door of the house to avoid any kind of attention, especially attention from those elderly people who would not hesitate to question his whereabouts. And that is exactly what he needs to avoid for now. Questions. Stupid questions. He had enough of his own on his plate that demanded answers. With all the waves of memories crashing at the shore of his mind he passed through those familiar streets of his hometown. It has been a year and a half since the incident yet it lays heavy on his mind, like a freshly dropped flower. He halted near the graveyard. The Sakura trees surrounding the graveyard are blushing. He walked into the cemetery, hearing cries and howls of agonies as he passed by some gravestones. There is something with these hospitals and cemeteries that always makes him uncomfortable. Of course, it is supposed to make anyone uncomfortable; death and loss are two sides of the same coin. You can not go at the expense of the other. He has always hated visiting his mom at the hospital when he was a kid. His mother was at the hospital not because she was sick but because she was expecting, but at such a tender age Suguru could barely understand the seriousness of it all. For, his mom left him and when she came back, she would be with his father and his baby brother. But they never came home, just like the spring. When he halted in front of a particular burial his cassette of vague childhood memories ceased to play.

The tombstone read:

SATORU GOJO.

7TH DEC 1989 - 27TH DECEMBER 2016.

“THE ONE AND ONLY.”

Geto tasted bile at the back of his throat. It has been a year and six months already. Still, he has not checked any of the things that Satoru left behind, not even talked to his mother and neither was at his funeral. This is the first time he is visiting Satoru’s grave. During their high school years, there was not a single instance when Geto looked at his right side and found it empty. Satoru was always there beside him, whether busy talking the on phone or busy picking on him or was just there. Now, Geto stands with no one by his side. After high school, they parted ways due to work. And one day, when he collected his phone from the icing centre on his way home after a long day of work, his phone had died with messages, voice missed calls and emails. All of them said one thing: 'Satoru Gojo is dead.'

Solitude is lethal. It is very addictive. It becomes a habit after one realizes how peaceful and calm it is. It is like when one does not want to deal with people anymore because they just drain energy in the end. But noin yn has grown bored in the bubble she has created around herself. Now all she wants is to burst the bubble without hurting anyone, not even herself. But on the other hand, if thinly did take a wild turn then what more could add to your irrevocable loss that would hurt you to the point of disintegration?

The cab halted with a huge jerk. Turning his head the driver bore an apologetic smile. After a few futile attempts, it was evident from his face that the cab broke, and that too in the middle of nowhere. Still, you hoped for him to fix it because it would be a hassle to carry all the luggage towards the venue. The place is morbid and dull. You travelled as far they could and Bingo! There was a Jeep parked outside a cemetery but other than that there was not a single soul. You, the driver, and the broken cab. The Jeep suggested someone should be nearby but after walking a few steps toward the end of the long stretch of the cemetery, you did not see anyone. Running out of options, you checked the destination on Google Maps. It is almost okay. But with all the luggage it would take you half an hour and booking another cab or waiting for another supplementary ride seemed tiring. After ten hours of flight, you just longed for sleep. Without wasting further time on thinking you started to walk reluctantly. After almost ten minutes you heard the noise of a car, a Jeep. You waved in the hopes of getting a lift but he did not stop. He took the turning into a smaller road. With his sunglasses on you could not tell if ly saw you or not. It is hard to miss a person on an empty road but you're experienced to be different. His lips were moving, so he might be busy talking and seemed to be in a hurry or a rich jerk who was perhaps humming ignoring a damsel in distress.

When you reached the venue you noticed the same red jeep parked in the backyard. The numbers are the same. Realizing the guy is also a guest in this marriage ceremony made you scrunch up your nose. Of course, what did you expect? Wherever you go, trouble follows. The preparations were still going on. You stood at one corner scanning through the crowd hoping to see your friends. A staff was distributing banners and some guests were getting ready for photos. He handed one to you. The place was crawling with alphas and omegas. Even Betas. You still could not see any familiar faces and certainly, it made you restless. You turned on your heel to ask one of the staff for help but something blocked your path. A man, tall and broad, radiating off an awful scent shamelessly; an alpha. You looked up, up and blinked once, twice and thrice. He is wearing a thin white shirt and black slacks, a typical staff uniform but he can not be just a staff here with a lavish red jeep and an aura full of arrogance. His buttons are unevenly done, plus, there are lipstick marks under his collarbones. This man who ignored you at the turning of the road extended his arms as if he were to carry you in bridal style.

“Excuse me,” you yelled, taken aback by his behaviour.

Geto Suguru who noticed you from afar, your restlessness scooted backwards. “And, then the girls say we, the men, don't listen to women.” Pointing towards the banner you held in your hand he pouted. It read — “PICK ME UP” Reading it you let out an awkward laugh. “Oh no! I was just standing here. And one of the guys handed this to me— Suguru closed the gap between you and him again, extended his hands in the pretence of scooping you again. “Hey. Listen to me. I — am — still — talking,” You stammered leaning away from him. Suguru smiled at you, amused at your reactions and the symphony of his laughter managed to reach your heart. He looked like the moon who was searching for the sea waves.

“Y/N.” Your ears perked up on that familiar high note. You would not forget that voice even if you wanted to. “Utaah!” you screamed merrily running towards your saviour. Utahime hugged you. Shoko, who was hiding behind Utahime, peered at you. Her eyebrows jumped twice in amusement. She has not changed a bit, the same unbothered eyes and lack of enthusiasm in her body. “What took you so long?” The bride squealed, dragging Shoko in a group hug.

“Sho, are you okay?” you asked. She always used to run away from hugs. Guess, people do change in the company of others. Shoko managed to pull out her hand to give you a thumbs up with a smirk laced upon her face. She has not changed, not even a bit.

The bride, Miss Haibara immediately called a few staff to help you with the luggage and your room. She did not even have to say anything. All she did was to wave her hand and you knew you did not have to worry anymore. For a Beta, she is one of a kind. Everything is sorted now. You need not worry anymore except for one thing. That guy; managed to get on your nerves earlier and is now actively involved in the preparations, quite interactive with the groom. From their interactions, you could tell they had known each other for years. Maybe since childhood. Things are not looking good from this angle.

The guests kept arriving till the evening. Generally, it would have been different if this was an actual wedding venue. But, a week ago the manager informed Nanami that they booked the wedding venue twice on the same date. There were some technical faults in the system due to which the software did not show that the date was already booked so, one of the parties had to cancel. Unfortunately, it was Nanami and Haibara's family. Surprisingly, one of Nanami’s friends owned this massively gorgeous house to do the deed without any hassle. But, they had to make some changes and now here you are, sitting by the pool going through your schedule as they fix the lights in your room. Five days. Within five days you should be hearing from the company you applied for the job. Locking the phone, taking a deep breath, and stretching your muscles you intended to go to your room, but a squared blue sachet caught your attention. It was near one of the feet of the table. ‘DUREX’ was written on it. A moment later you saw Geto coming outside and scanning the place. He strolled towards the table. You hid the condom under your notebook as he inspected the table. Not to seem suspicious and rude you asked, “Are you looking for something?”

“Yeah. A friend.” Geto responded with a reflex as he looked under the table.

“Uhm, under the table?” You exclaimed with a meek laughter, unable to hold it in anymore.

Geto stood near you tilting his head at you. He supported his weight by keeping one of his arms on the table and leaned towards you. “Where is it?” He asked, his voice deeper than usual.

“What was the name of your friend again? Doesn’t it start with ‘C’?”

He crouched down a bit, repeating his demand. “Give.it.back.” You could almost hear him growl.

“Didn’t you forget to say ‘please’ ?”

The crease on Geto’s forehead increased further. He stood with his hands resting on the back of his waist, his tongue swirling inside his mouth thinking if there would be any store open nearby. He would rather buy another one than say please but then again, he hates to keep the omega waiting. “Can I have it back?” He bit the corner of his bottom lip before finally caving in, “Please?”

“Good boy.” You chimed looking away from his piercing gaze, shifted the pages of your notebook so that he could take it. He snatched it in a flash and walked back towards the building.

“You’re welcome. Have fun” You yelled, making him pause. He probably rolled his eyes again but you could not have known that.

“Oh, I will.” He shouted back. “I definitely will,” Geto said under his breath, growling.

It was two o’clock and you have been staring at the ceiling for a while now. The network was down otherwise listening to music and going to sleep would be easy. Shoko and Utahime were probably sleeping like a log. Your friend and bride was perhaps awake but tomorrow is her day so she probably took a pill and went to sleep. You were barely ten when you met them, and the cogs of fate turned against you when you had to leave this town at the age of fifteen. But those ten years would be the most refreshing ones you had in this lifetime before the tragedy befell. With all those memories bubbling at the back of your mind, you could not sleep. Maybe a walk in the lawn might tire you out. With that in mind, you headed out of your room into the pool area. The adjacent grassy lawn was crowded with lights. They were flickering but as you walked past those lights, they stopped flickering. Those lights were not there before when you were drawing the designer dresses. There was also a glass of chocolate milkshake on the table. Without bubbles sedimenting on the skin of the glass suggested that it had already reached at room temperature.

“Not bad,” A voice turned up. As you turned around you were blessed with the sight of the man who managed to tick you off this morning. “Could have been more beautiful but yeah, that will do.” He added fixing his eyes on you and then gauging you that did earn him a glare as well as a questioning tilt of your brows. Geto understood the congestion of your confusion. You must be thinking how audacious of him to try to flirt with you just after having freshly fucked. “Oh no. not you. I meant the lights,” he added. You did not budge.

He offered, “Chocolate milkshake?” holding the glass. Still no pinnable reaction. You walked towards him and stopped at an arm’s length saying, “I think you need it more.” eyeing him up and down, from his well-built shoulders to his torso and then, backwards. “For stamina,” you added. With that as you walked past him.

“Why don’t you check it by yourself?” he whispered but you could hear him anyway. You bit the inner flesh of your lip holding back the response at the tip of your tongue because you knew he is just testing the waters, caging you into a corner and assessing your reactions, your heightened senses, and everything. You would hate it if you purposely gave what he wanted, whatever he desired from you to get by ticking you off. You will be leaving this god-damn town in a few days, forever and the last thing you want is a random hook-up that could keep your hopes up. You clicked your tongue. Swearing under your breath you murmured, “I’m already bored anyways.”

The next morning when you woke up, Shoko was already in your room. She was sitting at the foot of your bed scrolling through her phone. “Morning butterfly.” With her stoic face, she kept herself busy on the phone while you rolled to a side soaking in the warmth of the blankets and half-asleep state. “It’s already 8:30. You’re late.” You sprung up on your bed like a cat with its mouth hanging open. Shoko smiled. “Oh dear! Do you still fall for this? You’re still such a baby.” Your heart was pounding against your chest, blood rushing through your veins vigorously as you were still sinking into reality.

“Shooo, I was having a nice dream,” You whined getting out of bed. After taking a shower and getting ready you accompanied her for breakfast. Utahime, Haibara, Nanami and his bride were already there. Someone was missing but given the circumstances of the last night if he did not show up at all during breakfast you would not be so surprised. Greeting everyone good morning you took a seat next to Utahime. Shoko sat beside you. This mansion, owned by that guy, looked so different during daylight. There were no people, no hubbub no prying eyes and most importantly, no questioning faces and company which seemed to be present in abundance at such occasions like this.

“Nice house.” You remarked with a smile looking at Nanami. You have only seen him in video calls, whenever your friend used to call you but now that you are seeing him in person you can feel how much he is every bit of the goodness she spoke of.

“It’s Geto’s.” He responded taking butter toast from the master plate.

“What’s his full name?” you asked drinking in the beauty of his house as you fidgeted with your plate.

“Suguru Geto.” a male voice emerged from your back.

“What?” You gasped. Suguru was standing behind you. His presence was so overwhelming. He was standing right behind you and you did not even feel it like other times, like those two encounters. So, he has control on his pheromones; he is not just some spoiled rich brat.

“My name. Suguru Geto” He repeated as he stood beside you for a second, locking his eyes with you, and then continued to walk away from you to take a seat opposite to you. You smiled to yourself as embarrassment seeped deep into your bones. Shoko cleared her throat giving you a knowing look. Suguru kept piling up food on his plate while you were almost done with your breakfast. Six slices of butter toast, two half-boiled eggs, and a bowl of chicken soup. When he looked for the salt, his eyes landed on yours which were on his plate.

“I have a big appetite this morning.” He uttered in low breath reading your thoughts. Your eyes immediately flashed at him, nose inflated as you grabbed a glass of juice shooting him a warm smile. You excused yourself as soon as you could. Any longer than this, and you would have to talk with him. You better flee before he tries to spin another web of his chram around you. Something tells you he is not good as he seems to be.

Nanami is dressed in hakama, wearing a face mask covering his eyes and nose, not the mouth. The bride has the same mask but of different color, color of her choice. He stares at the phtoframe laying on the bed side table. It has a picture of a woman, he knows her. Suguru enters his room, halts noticing Nanami fully dressed and staring at the phto.

"isn't this gojo-san's mother?" Nanami asks looking at Suguru who is busy adjusting his hand cufflings.

"Yes."

"Oh! these anklets, i remember these anklets." Nanami points out touching her feet in the picture. "Gojo-san had all of us begging to get him these from his mom and then finally he asked you." Nanami looks at Suguru posing a question, "don't you remember?"

"Yes. I do." Suguru answers gravely taking the photo from Nanami's hand and giving him a box. It contains a necklace which he is suppossed to give it to his bride, tonight.

Nanami's lips went flat, he knows he is stepping into a place where he should not yet he asks, "don't you know to whom Gojo-san gave those anklets?" Suguru keeps the photoframe inside the cupboard feezing in place. The door of the cupboard is still open and he has not turned around. He knows, if he does he has to face something he does not want to, his last meet with himself, his last words to him, a constant loop he often sees in his sleep.

"Let's go, everyone." Haibara yells filling the deadly silence. "The ceremony is about to begin." And then walks away shooting both of them a smile. Nanami clear his throat and checks himself for one last time in the mirror.

"Don't worry. You look just fine," Suguru exclaims with tight smile on his face. Nanami just shakes his head releasing an exhale and then, leaves. Suguru closes the cupboard and follows. The less he opens that particular cabinet, the better.

People have gathered here for this auspicious ceremony. Nanami and Miss Haibara will be tieing threads on each other's hands after removing the mask that they were supposed to wear throughout the whole ritual. Geto watches them as they slowly walk towards the centre of the venue, thinking was it all so necessary to do this? He even asked Haibara about it and he said how some traditional rituals are need to be done to be a part of the clan, and they themselves wanted to do it so the other family members are just showing their support by being present in the ceremony. The main modern wedding would be held two days later. Geto notices that you walk away holding a glass of chmapange as soon as the ceremony begins. You have been drinking for a while, he has noticed it. You went towards the exit, outside the house where there are no crowds, no eyes, no people and no questions.

Haibara leans towards Geto whispering, "Now, they're going to exchange traditional jewellery that has been passed down since generations."

Geto just gives him a nod and suddenly, Nanami's words echo at the back of his mind,"don't you know to whom Gojo-san gave those anklets?" He gulps, his vision becomes blur for a second and before it gets worse he stands up, smiling towards Haibara he excuses himself out of the ceremonial arena. He walks towards a less crowded place where nobody can see him, nobody will know about him and then he picks up a sweet alluring scent. He lets his eyes scan the place around,and then spots a woman dressed in red dress standing by the pavement.

"Hi" Suguru greets and his eyes go wide seeing you. He notices a whole wine bottle in your hand. Ahh!that's why. He must admit you have a very oddly sweet scent. But why are you here? Maybe you are waiting to meet someone, perhaps your lover, or your alpha otherwise why would you let your scent hit the air so freely. He can not help but think why you are alone, here, out in the cold.

"Oh! hi" You greet.

"waiting for someone?"

"what?" You say and then pick up on his cue. "No, no. Just having some fresh air,"

"Do you mind?" He asks letting his eyes scrutinize your body from head to toe extending his hand to his collar, freeing the button.

"what?" You yell."absolutely not. what're you even thinking?" Suguru scoffs as you misunderstand his intentions, giving you the shawl to you. "This is ridiculous." You add and then turn on your heel to leave but a warm shawl wraps around your body. You look at him and find him inches away surprised that he picked up on the fact that you were cold; not only that, you were cold and drinking to keep yourself warm, even got your hormores worked up for that, but generally it is said that an alpha's presence soothes an omega but what exactly would you hope for when everything around you keeps dying?

"I don't know if it's the alcohol, but you don't seem that bad now." you mutter.

"Thanks?" Geto shoots you his heartwarming smile. "How drunk are you?" He can smell the alcohol on you now.

"Can I kiss you?"

"WOAH! A lot, okay." he exlaims with utmost amusement but then, notices that you are staring at him, and as you do your smile keeps stretching. 'okay. now YN is just teasing me'. You laughter finally breaks as you finish the rest of the champange.

"Are you really laughing at me Miss Y/N L/N?"

"umm-hmmm" you nod and glup before saying, "What're you gonna do about it?" Geto looks at you, studies you, thinks you really do not have any idea who exactly you are you messing with. He takes a few steps towards you taking the bottle from your hand.

"Nothing. do you want me to do something about it?" There is a pout on your face; your eyes are not at him anymore but a little downwards, on his hand upon the bottle he is holding.

"No,"

"but you're thinking about it," Geto presses further.

"nope." You shake your head in denial.

"so, you do not think about me?"

"nuh-huh"

Geto inclines a little, near your ear and whisperes, "but i have so many improper thoughts about you,YN." As he retreats he watches your eyes go wide, eyebrows stretch upwards and lips part. Geto could not control himself anymore. It was his turn to laugh seeing your face fall like that as if you have seen a ghost. "God. i can't belive you fell for it," You let him drink in the petty victory he just had and then carefully ask so that he does not mis-hear neither misunderstand.

"what did you mean when you said you had improper thoughts about me?"

"It was just a joke-he says and you take a step towards him. He backs away. As you take another step you notice him grabbing the bottle of the neck firmly and step away.

"So," you utter,"you think about me? Well, there is nothing wrong with that but," You pause and he waits for you to continue.

"What would you do if i said yes?" Geto asks unable to bear what were you about to say next and whatever that may be.

You smile and it ticks him off further. "How about i show you how improper are my thoughts about you?" He watches your smile fade instantly and then silence surrounds you both but not for long, "Its such a shame, that i can't show you 'cause i don't think you can . . ." He mouths the rest, "have sex with me."

Naturally you protest. Nobody likes losing at bed so Suguru grabs your hand and drags you to the nearest room in this mansion. It is a spare room perhaps, at least its clean and there is a bed.

"what're we doing here?" He asks pushing you onto the bed. You sit at the edge of the bed.

"you tell me," Your words slur a little. "you dragged me into this room." Your heart beats pick up the light-speed as he locks the door.

Geto chuckles at your half-drowsy state saying, "If you are so hesitant to say the word, will you even do it right ?" He stands at the edge of the bed, tucking your hair as you look at him . . . so blur with each blink . . . and so big

"Why not? Why not I do it? I do it multiple times," Geto licks his lips holding back his smile.

"And what's that gonna be?" He puts emphasis on 'what' pulling away the shwal that covered the beauty of your off-shoulder dress. He gets on his knees to get a very view of your expressions, because you keep avoiding his eyes. It's adorable.

"Sl-sl-sleepex"

"What?" Geto's laughter echoes in the room. "You can't even say sex,"

You glare at him and wrap your arms around his nape. "sleepex" you repeat.

"Stop. you're making it sound cute,"

"Say that, i'm hot."

"i'm hot," Geto says with stren voice, serious look on his face watching you glow in laughter like a pearl in an oyaster. "Y/N, are you sure you wanna do this?" He carefully lays you on the bed with one of his toned muscular arms wrapping around your waist while your hands wrap his shoulders.

"Of course i'm. i'm not doing this because i dont have to prove anything to anyone. I'm doing this for myself. I'm strong enough to do this," You move your eyes towards him, continuing "it's supposed to get better, right? but when? when does that happen? and when it happens please tell them. will you tell them?"

"umm-hmm" Geto just hums.

"Yes, please tell them." You murmur, your chest heavs and then as you exhale exhaustion lulls you into sleep.

"Y/N?"

The next morning as you wake, a terrible weight attracts your head back to pillow.

"Morning babe," A deep voice jerks you awake. Geto Suguru, half-naked, standing near the bed holding a glass of maybe a hangover cure

"what're you doing in my room?" you tartly ask. "and why aren't you dressed?"

"well, i wish i could only if you give me back my haori,"

"what exactly happend last night?"

"don't you remember?" Geto sits at the edge of the bed, his hand chinning you up. "I have never heard my name in so many acoustics," Your eyes go wide and just when you are about to say something Geto puts a finger against your lips, but does not touch them. "You were drunk, you fell asleep and i slept in the other room,"

"who changed my dress?" you ask doubting him unable get off this feeling of uneasiness.

"I did," Shoko answers entering the room. She pulls Geto's ear saying, "why did you tell her so soon? The fun was just getting started," Geto grabbed her hands and pulled her into the bed, and the jumping out of the bed. Before disappearing, he exclaims, "I'll tell why,what, where and everything if you tell me about how long you and Utahime have been fucking?"

"You stupid boy. Its called dating," she protests and jumps out of the bed following him leaving you alone with your thoughts. what the fuck just happened? moreover, uta and sho are fucking, dating? for how long?

Today there is no ceremony but a celebration for annoucning the wedding in different clans. Those who value and only prefer traditional wedding, they are here today. When you finally join the guests, you spot Geto swarmed by men you do not recognize. He looks a little disturbed, restless. You have not been able to talk to him since the failed prank night. Part of you is grateful for not taking advantage of you in your drunk state, while the other part is just curious to know what would he have done if you were not drunk. So, you cook up some courage and finally when he is alone you walk up to him to talk.

"Hi,"

"Hello"

"I just wanted to thank you for-"

"-for not taking advantage of your drunk state?" He finishes your line and then bites his bottom.

"Yeah. however, improperly you thought of having me," You add further.

He clicks his tongue,"about that," and then a chuckle follows.

"Getou-san," You call him pasuing his laughter, having his eyes on you, "I'm not drunk today,"

"Yeah? but we have a lot of -

"Perhaps you didn't hear it well,"

"I'm not drunk today," He repeats your words realizing the meaning behind it but then his eyes shift towards Miss Haibara who is currently speaking to Mahito. Mahito, that fucker, who invited him here?

"excuse me, i'll just be back in a minute," As he excuses himself you notice him talking to the bride for a while and then he dashes out of the arena. When you follow him, you find him standing against the pool side alone looking at the water.

"Geto-san?" you call but he does not answer. So, you touch his arm and he jerks it off instantly. "Relax, its just me," you say but when his eyes fell on you, it is so distant as if you are seeing him for the first time. He seems like a totally different person.

"Tsk," Geto clicks his tongue and then leaves without saying a word. You stood there for a while and then, quitely you joined your friends. Yeah, that is what you have been doing since day one, talking and chatting with friends, catching up with them. But they are all busy, Shoko and Utahime are together at a table, Haibara is talking and attending the guests, Mei-Mei busy getting some guy's attention. He must be someone rich. You are just all alone. Your eyes scan all the guests and then stills at a particular figure. A tall man with white hair, eye so as blue as the sky, wearing a wedding suit, the diamond shining on his ring finger and he shoots a smile at you. You start to walk towards him but something stop you, Shoko's hand. "Y/N you okay? you look as if you've seen a ghost," she is so blur right now. You close your eyes and then open looking at his direction; he is gone. It has been a while since Satoru has not visited you for a while. Even now, as you try to uproot him from your life he comes boucning back. When this is going to end? when will be over him? why did he had to leave anyways that day?

It is almost midnight. You are as usual at the pool side, but today you are here for a reason. The sky tonight is adorned with stars and among those million stars two of them would be your parents. You heard a set of footsteps knowing full well in your gut that who could it be. "can't sleep?" You registered his presence as he sat beside you but you did not bother to answer him right away. "I was looking for you," Suguru added; turning your head in his direction you smiled. He swore his heart just stopped for a second. Maybe you are angry or gonna yell at him or slap him or maybe do nothing at all, just ignore him which is the worst.

"In the middle of the night? what for?" You pause to inspect his expression for a moment. Suguru tries to say something. He still feels bad about how he walked away from you in the middle of the ceremony. He will get an earful from Kento and Yu tomorrow for abandoning the ceremony like that, but what unsettles him is the fact that he hurt you; he knows he did, and he can see it on your face even now. He has fucked omegas, even betas before and never before has he had to cross so many bumps. Perhaps, it is harder because you are connected to his friend's circle.

Suguru's eyes glanced downwards. He picks his nails before grabbing your hand to pull it upon his face, "I wanted to see you."

"I think I missed you." There is confusion lingering in his eyes as your palms remain fisted. You slowly let your fingers touch his skin pushing him to the point of closing his eyes. His head arches, and tilts before his lips peck your palms.

"I don't have your friend with me tonight." You say and it seems that he knew what exactly you meant. He does not answer just stares, longer than usual. Did he think that you'd let him fuck without protection? It is such a shame that you think so; did Suguru want to see you just for the sex, just to keep the end of his bargain or whatever silly challenge you two had? He is now more confused than before; like are you angry at him or just upset? He stands up without letting go of your hand.

As he guides you to his room, you remember the previous failed attempts but his deep, commanding tone interrupts. "Don't worry. I have it with me." He lets you enter the room first, still holding your hand; placing a kiss on your cheek he makes you twirl once and lets go of you. He pushes the door with his foot without averting his eyes from you, leaning against it.

"What was that for?" You chuckle and ask. There is slow jazz music playing. You look around till you find the source, an old vinyl player.

"Wanna dance?" Suguru asks. "With me?" and all he gets as a response is a dip in between your eyebrows, a long hum and an upside curve of lips. He chuckles at your expressions and walks towards you.

"I don't know, can you?" you say as he tries to put his arm around your waist.

Another challenge. So amusing. You bite your lip as he leans towards you. There is a fair amount of space between you and him, still, you swayed back, just a little. "um. You wouldn't know unless you try," he said flattening his palm before you. You narrow your eyes on him, giving him a look full of scepticism but as you keep your hand in his he lets out a throaty chuckle.

"what's wrong?" you ask but that just expands his laughter.

He cleared his throat, and scratched his nose before saying, "Your hands are so small." You look at your hands and think how funny it is that he noticed it now even though he had a lot of chances to map his hand against yours. Your nostrils flair up in embarrassment with a slight tinge of anger making you pull away your palm and step backwards.

Suguru's instincts kick in. "Backing down from a challenge so soon, huh?" He asks holding tight on to your hand before pulling you into his body. He seems so firm against you. No wonder your small hands made him laugh. You wanted to say something but as you opened your mouth to speak, you realized how dry your throat is. Wetting your lips you guide his hand around your waist. As both of you start to dance, it seems that your body is practically glued against his. The feeling of skin against the skin with just the barrier of clothes in between, breaths hitting each other, and some wild thoughts running behind those eyes as they look into each other. His hand which you guided at your valley of waist has now travelled upwards enough to undo the zip. You think he is gonna unzip your dress but rather he lets you one slow twirl and then pulls you into his body again. He leans into your ear and you think he is finally going to kiss you. Maybe there is a 'no kiss on the lips' rule or he starts with a neck, or behind the ear but you hear his hoarse whisper, "Are you on suppressants?" You open your eyes, surprise takes control of your body. You blink, and you bite your bottom lip.

NO. "should I have been? I mean people don't generally use suppressants anymore. And, my heart cycle is not unruly but maybe I should have been. . . but who knew I'd sleep with an alpha...and your thoughts keep spiralling. Geto takes your silence as a 'YES' and takes this opportunity to grab your face and kiss your lips. The sweet scent of wine lulls your spiraling thoughts and you grab onto his wrists deepening the kiss. You whimper as he pushes his tongue. Okay, so he likes to take things fast. why did you think it otherwise again? He unzips your dress swiftly. Without finding the hook of your bra, he breaks the kiss, a little bashful about how ready you are: oozing with a desire to mate, not taking suppressants; he wonders if he will find a panty under your dress if he ran his fingers up along your inner thighs.

"Kiss me again," you demand and as both of you recollect breaths, you stand on your toes trying to kiss him but he moves his face away. Suguru licks his lips. You are going fast, and he does not want that. He wants this to be agonizingly slow, so slow that you have to beg him and when this is all over everything will be drilled in your mind. The rejection does not surprise you, nor hurt you but it does make you nervous. Maybe he is the type to fuck only after getting a blow job. Your hands are now upon his chest and his around your torso but when you try to push him away, you fail; he does not let you. What he does sure tingles your skin. He keeps up with your eager curious eyes, and his index and thumb pinch your half-aroused nipple. Just another whimper escaped from you before it became fully aroused. But your parting mouth, closed eyes as he touches you more, squeezes your boob harder threatens him to give you what you want and silence those needy whimpers but instead, he lets his instinct take over. Suguru kisses your neck, slowly, as his hand abuses your boob. Your body arches a little and he pushes his leg in between yours. The sucks start to get strong before his teeth come to play while his knee nudges your vagina. As your hands run through his long shoulder-length hair he presses his knee against your cunt and he feels your warm juices coating his slacks. He takes a break from bruising your neck anymore only to say, "Seriously? no pants either?" Just how desperate are you, yn?

"Ugh! I had no idea that we'd do this today after you-" You pause noticing a crease in his eyebrows and regret accumulates at the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah, about that. I just needed to cool off." He lets his nose nestle against your cheeks as he whispers, "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." You let out a short-lived chuckle thinking how he thought it hurt you. It did, but not too much to lose your sleep over it so that Geto finds you sitting by the poolside at midnight.

"umm-hmmm," a quiet hum before his hands travel under the skirt of your dress. He cups your bare cunt before ruthlessly pushing his finger inside you. You grab his loose t-shirt as he starts to move his finger, slowly, in and out. The veil of pleasure slowly starts to encapsulate you making your legs weak. Unable to hold himself back, he starts to kiss you again because every time he does your nose and lips become a little red. You can not see them but he can; the parted lips, reddened nose and lips, and that panting face craving for more is just the other side of a full moon.

"wanna take this to bed?" he says pulling just a thread away from your lips. You just give him a nod. He cleans his middle finger by licking them, watching your face fall. "What?"

"never do that again," you exclaim with surprise as he drags you to his bed. There is an adjacent bedroom where Suguru generally brings his girls but not tonight, tonight is not just special but just different from his other one-night stands. He sits at the edge of the bed, pulling you into his lap effortlessly. It takes you with so much surprise that he has such strength in him.

"You think, we would do this again?" he asks pulling your legs to one side.

"what? no"

"why 'no' why not 'oh yes' ?" and both of you share a laugh before he sternly commands. "put your hands around me, in." And you do, you listen to him. You curl your arms around his shoulders and at the same time, feel two of his fingers push inside you. He does not make you wait much as he picks up the pace. Two fingers move up and down, rashly and your mind becomes mushy again. Suguru lets out a chuckle as your hand grabs onto his shirt. You let out a sharp moan, feeling his teeth on your nipple over your dress. He desperately sucks on to them over the cloth.

"wait, lemme just," and you push your dress down to your waist without any hesitation. Sure, Suguru likes bold girls but you are not just bold, you are a little unaware of the consequences of such bold, unfiltered coupling and that too without being on suppressants. Suguru takes his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your boob which has been neglected till now. While his mouth sucks the other, his palm starts to massage. Part of him thinks, maybe you are entering your heat cycle. Sometimes coupling with an alpha might commence an omega's heat cycle; the other part of him thinks that a feisty girl like you would be able to sense if one is entering into a heat cycle. Besides, it would be a hassle to have sex with an omega who is about to enter her heat cycle. Some people might love to do it, but not him. Some omegas become too demanding at this state and with the minimum time he has spent with you, it would be a gamble to predict how you would be in bed during the heat cycle. Suguru pulls away from sucking your tits and looks at you. You let his hair lose, carcasses through his wavy locks, skim through his hair and finally tug at his hair exposing his neck this time. He has you now seated cross-legged on his lap. He feels the strain in his sweatpants. All he wants to do is to have you all on fours and fuck you till he feels the high of it. But he lets you do what you are trying to do: following his patterns. Omegas generally do it, while being in the heat or the advent of it but you would not do it. You are not in your heat cycle, are you? As you kiss him, suck his skin and bite near his collar bones one of his hands supports you while the other aid to the strain in his pants but he fails at that deliberately because every time you buck your hips.

"Wait, stop. Lemme just make it easier for you." He barks and scoots backwards against the headboard. You get rid of your dress and discard it on the floor. Suguru's eyes travel up and down your body. Your body is not spotless, there are moles, stretch marks, and cuts and he leans forward to find out how it would feel against his lips and tongue you stop him. You run your hands from between his collarbone and his navel bottom. "Haha fair enough," he says and gets rid of his t-shirt. You take his cock out of his pants rubbing the foreskin, touching the tip before adjusting it to your entrance. Suguru grabs the condom from the drawer but sees you struggle to sit on his cock, the same question reverts in his mind. The answer to it could only be yes and at the same time, you would not realize the gravity of your state would be because this is the first time you are having sex with an alpha. So, carefully he chins up your face and asks, "Yn, is this your first time with an alpha?"

"Yes." Finally, you said something instead of nodding. He was starting to get worried. Wait. what? You said what? A yes? Oh, a thousand heaven fucks!

"Is that bad?" You ask seeing him glitching like that.

"Nope. Not at all," He quipped. He scratches his forehead in frustration with his thumb because he is sure he is responsible for your current state since you were sober and perfectly in your senses just a while ago; Fuck! he knew it was a bad idea to fuck you in his room and also not to let you take suppressants. He curls his arm around you immediately he lays you flat on his bed. "Alright! yn. Listen to me and Listen to me very carefully," He says and you smile like a baby, like that day when you were drunk. He hates this. Oh God! he hates this so much. "If you feel anything is gonna hurt you, just tell me. You get it?" He stares down at you as you watch him intently with your eyebrows congested. He pushes aside your hair and clusters them in his hand. "You understand. You nod." You give him a nod, saying, "Sure. Got it." You thanked the heavens for being able to respond properly. Not only this is your first time with an alpha, but also like the 'first time.' ever. Geto is gonna flip out if he finds out about that too. He grabs two pillows, one he places under your head and the other under your lower back. He captures all his hair and ties it in a bun. "Tell me if it hurts," he says before pushing the crown of his head inside your feminity. You grab the pillow in anticipation but slowly feel him pushing inside you, filling you and you release a full long breath as he starts to move in and out, slow and steady so it would ease your entrance. He hunches down, his nose grazing against your hot skin along your cheeks and he starts to pick up the pace a little."You okay, yn?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." You answer and feel an immediate strong push against your hips. Suguru grunts feeling you sheath him. "Suguru," you call his name softly, hesitantly.

"Am I hurting you,yn?" He asks with a worried tone.

"Uhmm. no. no. I think you didn't wear a condom," you exclaim showing the packet. And it strikes him that he could use your state to his advantage. Your senses are dull, you are vulnerable, needy and so very tempting. why should he resist you when he is barely holding back?

"Well, shouldn't you have told me before I put us inside you?" he exclaims menacingly watching the light in your eyes fade. "Don't worry I'll pull out." He scoops you into his lap starting to buck his hips against you. "I'm good at that," Well, of course you are, Mr.Cassanova; that worried you for a second, bringing back flashbacks that you ought to keep sealed, flashbacks that seemed memories of another person, flashbacks that are like yellow snow.

"you can get louder, can't you?" Geto rasps before he grabs your forearms, tightly as you bob up and down. You bite the inner flesh of your bottom lip tp hold off your smirk. Looking down for a bit, you notice that half of his cock is still not inside of you and, all you want is to milk him dry, fuck him till he passes out. You look at Suguru again, asking, "I can?" resting your hands over his shoulders testing his waters now. He just shoots you a cocky smile before putting his mouth against your skin. This time its so abrupt, so brutal that it makes your eyes go white, teeth abusing your lower lip and hands trying to push him away. Suguru feels your nails scratch his shoulders as he goes down taking your pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking it so hard that it makes you release a welp followed by a shriek. "See. You can do a lot better" He says peering at you. The glisten in your eyes makes his heart thrum faster. "Ahh!fuck this," he growls before shifting his hands on your waist to provide more force to your thrusts. And after a few long and strong thrusts he leans against the headboard watching you pick up the pace. It just hits the right spot with so much precision that keeps you going. Watching you bounce, seeing every lavicious expression you make. . . he is so going to come back to this memory if he ever has to take care of himself. His watches you as he interlaces his fingers with yours. He can feel it, how close you are, the stronger your grip grows in between his hands, the slower your thrusts get pushing you closer to the high and then, as you recoil like a bow wetting his cock it becomes harder not to blow his load inside of you. "Sorry," he mutters under his breath before freeing one of his interlaced hand from yours to hold you as he lays you flat on the bed again. You squirm, you writhe as he plunges deep inside you. You just came, and now feeling his cock move in and out, it aches your muscles yet you still grab onto his biceps, nails digging as he thrusts his hips. He is panting so hard, you could feel his breath hitting your face everytime he thrusts; without thinking you curl your free hand around his nape, pulling him into a kiss, sucking his lips and pushing your tongue while he keeps thrusting. But the moment you wrap your legs around his torso, he starts to get vocal and fidget. Pulling away from the kiss, he unwraps your legs and holds your calf muscles, gently and keeps up with his loud estatic pumps until he finally lets his head arch back, let go of your legs, pulling his cock out of you spreading his seed over your belly and bosom. Both of you stare at the ceiling as both of your breathing becomes even.

Suguru gets up from the bed and checks his watch. It is almost three in the morning. Yeah, he might just miss tomorrow which would have some grave consequences. "water?" he asks turning around finding you standing behind him. It startles him. You have cuurently taken hostage of his favorite shirt. It fits you perfectly, just a little oversized. You are still oozing with desires, he can sense it and he feels horribly guilty for doing this to you. At dawn, when you will be rested and fresh, it would all come back to you. He closes the gap in between you two, " drink some water," You hesitantly take it and finish the whole water bottle.

"i'm hungry. i should just go back to my room, freshen up and eat something." You murmur to yourself handing him the bottle. You feel estatic, lighter than usual, yet you feel each and every vein running under your skin is on fire.

"Nah! don't go, yn." Geto exclaims hugging you from the back, "This is my house, remember? you wouldn't know where to find food at this hour." He says placing a kiss on your forehead. He puts something on and tells you to freshen up before disappearing out of the room.

When he comes back, he finds you standing in front of the balcony all refreshed, dressed in a white short frock with frills. He has never taken care of someone when they are in heat. He keeps the tray full of food and stands beside you watching the stars. There is a shooting star sailing across the sky and you say, "when i was a child, i used to think that my mom and dad are gonna travel back to me, like that." A scoff and then you look at Geto. "Thanks for the food you say," before grabbing the tray full of food and sitting on divan that had an extension to use as a table. Before you start to eat, you say, "I've already drawn a bath for you. Go freshen up,"

"Yeah right."

"Oh!" you exclaim grabbing a grape, " and suguru. . ." you throw the grape to his direction and he catches with his mouth. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Geto keeps on chewing the grape knowing perfectly well what you were trying to say.

"No, I don't think so," he exclaims with a smile stretching up to his ears. is he blushing?

"cool then," you concentrate back on your food.

Standing under the shower Geto traces back his decisions. He should not have fucked you today or tried to keep you off suppressants. He never should have pursued you because now all he is filled with is nothing but the guilt of pushing you into heat. Wait, isn't that a good sign? He to never fucked an omega without them being on pills, but now that he did it was only natural that it would turn out this way. He will just ask if he can help you with it or not when he gets out of the shower. Geto hears a sharp click and he starts to feel empty like one side of an hour glass. He quickly wraps a towel, and walks into his room but he does not spot you anywhere. You were just gone. Surely, he would see you at the breakfast but at least you could have said something before leaving or could have slept with him. He would have kept you warm, comfortable and sane rather than some pills. Why didn't you think of that? Well, whatever he could just ask you tomorrow that if he can help with 'it' since he is responsible for it; going to your room now would make him seem too desperate, he does not want that. He takes his phone to text you. should he? His eyes fall on the shirt that he made you wear on the prank night and picked up his phone.

[ you forgot your dress, ] and with that he went to sleep. Tomorrow he is gonna ask about how he was he. . . and one more thing.

A few minutes later, the phone awakes; a reply came : [ no. i didn't. at least check before you say that . . . or is it that you miss me already? ]

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sweettjrose · 4 months

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To be honest I always felt like one of the biggest tragedies that happened to Mickey Mouse is how he tends to be treated less of a character and more of a mascot for Disney.

And to be honest, Disney really is to blame here. I can't really blame people for seeing Mickey as a shallow boring mascot when their only exposure to him is him smiling on a t-shirt or coffee mug or maybe seeing an extremely sanitized version on a pre-school cartoon.

As someone who loves cartoon characters, I like to see them get to be themselves. And while a lot of other cartoons fade into obscurity, Mickey has a unique fate where he is still here but him as a character tends to fade instead. We were lucky to get the Rudish cartoons which helped breath life into him and really show that he can be a fun character even if it is a more exaggerated version of him. But it seems like that era is starting to end and I am not sure what will come afterwards.

And with earlier versions of him going into Public Domain soon, I know that we are going to see quite a few takes of him. I know many of those takes are coming from people who see Mickey as a stand in for all of the bad things Disney do and will probably portray him as an evil capitalist or some kind of monster. Which is whatever, I'm not going to be upset about people making their own art on their own feelings (though personally I think the joke got old after everyone tried to copy South Park and Simpsons for the millionth time in a row).

But I also feel like this is a chance to reclaim Mickey as return him as a character. Let him get to be a character with flaws and goals and not just a smiling face on merchandise. It would be nice to get some official Disney projects too. But if Disney won't, we can do it ourselves.

#mickey mouse #disney rant #disney thoughts

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hiraya-rawr · 11 months

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"in another life, i would've really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you"

synopsis !! all the opportunities he didn't take! forbidden love, status differences, different life goals, missed chances

characters !! zhongli, thoma

note !! please please read thoma's part I really like it for some reason- also everything everywhere all at once was amazing, i loved every second of it and it was just so beautiful! i also love all the cultural references aaaah

+ + +

Z H O N G L I

"Live a human life with me," You had once suggested to Rex Lapis, lounging on a floating island and watching the construction of what would eventually be known as Liyue Harbor.

He turns to you, confused look on his face, "A human life? Honestly, your ideas only develop in oddity over time."

You laugh, shrugging as the wind chimes along with you. Did Barbatos find it amusing as well?

"I'm being serious, Morax! The war is over, peace is settling, any issues can be handled by the humans and we can always guide them from a distance." You smile, "Live a human life with me. We can open a teahouse by the outskirts, we can visit the harbor on weekends, we can age ourselves and spend a human's lifetime together!"

He sighs, turning away, "I'll amuse you and visit you in my human form, but I have responsibilities I wish to take as their archon. You can play human without me."

"Aww, Morax-"

He rolls his eyes, amused, "Human lives are so fickle and short. Should you ever get tired of living their ways, you're welcome to join me in the skies again."

"Hmp. You might just regret not trying with me." You tease, and you—

Were right. He did regret it, because there was no time left for him to try with you. You were gone, eroded like the old immortals, withered in a grave like a human. The immortality of gods like you and him was never physical after all, and your body decayed too soon.

"So, finally decided to join the bandwagon, huh?" Venti grins at the geo archon, sipping from his drink of what's presumably wine. The teahouse is half full, a known heritage site for anyone who knows the history of good Liyuen tea.

"It's an interesting idea." Zhongli simply replies.

"And how are you finding the human life, my dear friend?"

"Strangely. . . I had expected it to be a sociable endeavor," He smiles, strained, "but it could also feel quite lonely."

T H O M A

Doing laundry and taxes with Thoma was impossible in the first place. Not when you were destined to marry someone of the same status; a political engagement which tied you down since the day you turned of age.

For you, this was an unbearable tragedy. The denial of being with someone you love.

For Thoma, this was as simple as nature's course. Of course you would marry a noble! He's simply a commoner, a mere house worker with the favor of his boss. It wouldn't make sense for you to marry him.

And perhaps that's why it infuriated you; how dare he think so little of himself?

"I just don't understand why you're not mad about this! I'm about to be married and you— you won't say anything about that?" You once yelled, frustration built to its peak at his nonchalance.

"(Name)," Thoma says softly, concerned.

"No, don't you start!" You cut off swiftly, "You'll only talk about how you're a commoner and I'm a noble and I'm sick of that! I'm sick of all of it!"

"I just don't know what you want me to say–"

"Say you love me! Ask me to run away!" The words are desperate on your tongue. "Archons, Thoma, I wish you could be more selfish. I'd give it all up for you." You sob, collapsing onto the wooden floor as your legs give out. He immediately kneels in front of you, ready to embrace.

In quiet whispers, he cups your face, brushing tears away with his thumb, "You know I can't ask that of you."

You sniffle, "I know, I know." and "I just wanted you to try."

#genshin #genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #thoma #thoma x reader #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin thoma #zhongli angst #thoma angst #genshin fanfic #genshin angst/comfort

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furryllamas · 4 months

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Can’t Help Falling in Love | A. Walter

+ Alex Walter x OC

+ Summary: Life has been difficult for sisters Jackie and Eden Howard. Obviously regular teenage girl problems, such as boys, school, and friends. Except tragedy that ensues, the death of their parents and older sister. They'll have to navigate a life without their family, just throw in love, the countryside, and a whole lot of boys in one roof.

+ Authors Note: Hey guys I really hope you enjoy this first chapter, I was really inspired after seeing Ashby play Alex and absolutely fell in love 🤍

Chapter 0.0 | Two Time Zones Apart

The sound of LA traffic was not great, but it was definitely quieter than the sound of the streets of New York. It's only been 6 Months since I moved to LA semi-permanently. I still got homesick often but there was no place like California. Ever since the transition from being a model to a singer it was a choice I had to make, with mom and dads approval of course, even if it meant seeing Lucy and Jackie less.

"Oh Gosh. What time is it?" I grumbled as I rubbed my eyes. I looked towards my bedside table and picked up my phone. "10:30 AM" I removed the bed covers and stretched my arms over my head. The smell of my room always gave me some comfort in the mornings. I headed to the restroom and pulled my hair into a bun and turned the faucet on. I started washing my teeth when I heard my phone ringing. I ran back to my room to pick up my phone that was lying on the bed. A video call from Jackie. I quickly pick up the phone as I walk back to the bathroom.

"Juswt whun sewkand-" I attempted to say with the tooth brush still in my mouth. Jackie let out a quick laugh, "take your time Eid." I put my finger up, just one moment, and place the phone in front of the faucet handles, holding it up. I quickly rinse out the toothpaste and splashed my face with water to ensure I would fully wake myself up.

"Hi Jacks! How's it going?" I waved and picked up my phone.

"EDEN! It's going so well! I can't wait for you and Lucy to come home today! I missed you guys so much." Jackie smiled softly.

"Oh my, we haven't been away from you that longgggg" I teased as i sat down on my Vanity. I panned my phone to the stack of luggage by my window.

"Okay I know, BUT, I just missed you guys so much." She sighed. "It's been a month since I've seen you and Lucy. I'm just so excited for you to see my excellent work tonight."

"I know Jacks, My flight is at 2 so I'll probably be there by 7-ish." I start applying my makeup and look away from my phone. " and plus Lucy will be there sooner than me, so you'll get her while you wait for meeee."

She laughs, "Right, what would I do without your wisdom." She stays quiet for a couple of seconds, "How's your new song going?"

I wince, "It's going..." She looks at me confused. "I've just been lacking in inspiration lately. I'm hoping going home will help with that."

"I'm sure you'll get a spark of inspiration once you spend some good old fashioned time at the ballet with me."

"Thanks Jackie, I've missed you guys so much. I can't wait to get there tonight."

I stop to think. "Dinner at The Penrose?"

I look at her smile, "of course Eden! That's our spot."

"All right deal" I look at the time, 11:30AM, "All right sis, I have to head to the airport, see you soon!" I reach over to hang up, "wait! Remember mom and dad will pick you up later tonight so we can all go to dinner together."

"Okay, perfect! Bye Jacks, love you!"

"Bye Eids!" I hung up.

I start getting up and shutting the curtains. It might be a while until I'm back but I'd rather keep my room clean.

Ding Dong.

I head over to the front door that smells strongly of oak. Walking past the pictures I have hanging of Mom, Dad, Lucy, Jackie and I. I open the door and smile as I see the face of my amazing Manager, Lizzie. "Liz! Come to say goodbye to your favorite client." I giggled as she stepped in. "Excuse me! Not just my client, more like my favorite friend!" I hug her and drag her to my room.

"Oh gosh, look at all this baggage..." she exclaims standing in front of my suitcases. She reaches over and picks one up. "Alright Eden! Let's get moving and load these into the car, your driver is waiting."

I look over to her and smile, "You got it boss!" I salute. It was an easy load up and we wasted no time getting in the car. "Are you excited to see your family again?" Lizzie asked. "Yeah I'm a bit nervous though. I haven't seen them in a couple of months, I feel like I've missed out on a lot." It was hard being apart from them and not being able to see them as often as I used to.

Lizzie looks at me and smiles softly, her polished nails and her soft hands reach over to mine. She grabs them and turns to me. "E, you need this. You've been homesick for a while and I think this trip will help you with the new song." I lean my head back against the headrest and turn my face to look out of the window. "I know Liz." I turn back towards her. "Thank you for helping me today. It means a lot. I'll miss you lots."

She just smiles at me and I start feeling tired, car rides always seem to wear me out. I take one last look at the highway we're on and slowly close my eyes. I let sleep take over me and an oddly weird feeling at the pit of my stomach. I hear Liz whisper, "I'll wake you when we get there."

#alex walter x reader #alex walter #mlwtwb #my life with the walter boys

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persephosposts · 3 months

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Prologue

Unedited

TW/CW: hanging and death scene, cursing/cussing, some mention of religious imagery, basic Hazbin Hotel stuff

1603, Virginia

It was a cold winter morning in the small colony of Virginia. The morning sun did little to mention the snow and frost that covered the trees and ground. Morning birds and crickets serenaded the forest with their strange harmonies, blending together perfectly. The sky was blended into an orange color, the regular light blue wouldn’t appear until later.

It was then that the peaceful scene was interrupted, the sound of heavy footsteps crunching the snow beneath them making the crickets stop playing their music and birds quickly fly away in fright. The small group of humans were breathing heavily, trying to push through the cold so they could watch the tragedy (to them it was justice) that was about to happens. In the front of the group was a priest named James Pritchett, the man himself being 53. And in his right hand he held a Bible and his left hand he was holding a thick rope.

Stopping at a clearing, the priest dropped the rope on the white covered ground, breathing in the crisp air, before staring at the large oak tree that sat before them. To nature, the oak tree was just apart of life. It was a landmark, and home to creatures, and a beautiful sight to see. But to the townspeople of the colony, it was much more than that.

It was deemed as a hanging tree this morning.

Turning back to the group of people, James smiled at them before clearing his throat. “Bring forth the sinners!” He demanded with a loud voice. Heading the clacking of metal shackles, the group quickly parted down the middle, a younger man coming forth with links of metal in his hand. Behind him, the three shackled with chains on their wrists, the three Reed sisters walked through the group.

Regina Reed was the eldest sisters. The blonde was known as the colonies beauty. She had a perfect smile to go with her deep brown eyes that seemed to just hypnotize you. Recently she had married a young farmer, who had divorced her as soon as she was convicted of such a crime as witch craft.

She walked with a smirk on her face.

The second eldest was Mary, who was known as the girl that “should’ve been born a boy”. She didn’t mind getting her hands dirty, and the elderly women of the colony just gossiped about how “it was no surprise that a girl like her slept with the devil himself”.

She walked with her head held high, almost like she was proud.

Last was the youngest sister; (Y/N) Reed. Now it was a shocker to everyone how she had fallen down with her sisters. The youngest Reed had always been a sweet girl, seemed to have beed devoted to God. But alas, the townsfolk accepted the fact blindly, turning on the 22 year old in a heartbeat. After all, she had nothing. No husband or children at that age was deemed as disgraceful.

The younger girl walked with her head hung low, knowing that it was her fault they had gotten caught.

Standing in front of the priest, the older man eyeballed the three sisters; each of them having a different expression. “Sister Reeds,” He croaked out, glaring at each of them. “the three of thou have been found guilty of witchcraft and unlawful seduction. How doth thou three plead?”

Regina glanced at her two younger sisters, asking a silent question between the three of them. Mary huffed before nodding, (Y/N) biting her lip before nodding as well. The blonde looked back at Pastor Pritchett with a smirk.

“We are guilty of those crimes.” She began, the crowd behind them yelling out names at them in disgust. “We have sold our souls to the devil, have practiced the art of witch craft.”

“Harlots!”

“Witches!”

“Hang them!”

“Let them suffer!”

“Silence!” Pritchett hissed, the crowd immediately falling silent at his command. He then glared back at the eldest sister, nothing but disgust in his eyes. “I hereby sentence thou to the hanging tree!” With a nod to the handler, the young boy who was holding the chains went over to the eldest first, the priest sending the sisters a wicked smile. “We will hang each witch one at a time, that way each of them can suffer uniquely! Starting with the eldest!”

The crowd seemed to have cheered as Regina and was led to the three, her two sisters having no choice but to watch as the blonde’s hands were tied behind her back and the loop of the noose was laid around her neck.

“Any last words?” Pastor Pritchett asked her, just as a formality. The blonde smirked at him before looking at her sisters. Her smirk had fallen just slightly before it came back just as quickly.

“My sisters, I will see though in the afterlife! May we thrive in Hell together!” She laughed before glaring at the Pastor and the man who had put the rope around her neck. “I hope thou rots here, and rots in the afterlife! Thou do not deserve a peaceful eternal sleep.”

Pastor Pritchett just scoffed before waving his hand. And with that simple silent command, Regina Reed was the first to meet death.

After the first execution was done, it was then Mary’s turn to meet her fate. With the same process of tying her hands and laying the rope around her neck, the pastor asked the same question. After he asked, the woman shrieked with laughter before saying two simple words that definitely got her point across. “Fuck you!”

Mary Reed was the second sister to die.

And finally, it was the youngest sister’s turn. Walking up to the three, her head held low as her hands were tied around her back and the noose placed along her neck, she only looked up to glare at the man that did so.

Nicholas Pritchett was the priest’s son, and he also just happened to be the one that turned the three sisters in.

“Don’t be like that.” He hissed quietly, noticing the young woman’s glare. “Maybe if thou had just accepted thine fate, this would be our wedding day. But no, thou chose death over me.”

“I’d rather rot in hell than have you touch me again!” She snapped, gathering the saliva in her mouth before spitting in his face. Taking a step back, the crowd gasped as they watched young Nicholas wipe the spit of his face with disgust.

“How thine has fallen!” Pastor Pritchett exclaimed, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “What does thou have to say for thyself?”

(Y/N) toon a deep breath before looking at the crowd, her head held high as she had one last moment of pride before her death. “The truth will come to light eventually.” She said, turning to glare back at Nicholas. “And when all of thee reach to the golden gates, thou will see that us three were not the truly wicked ones after all.”

And with one last breath, the last Reed sister had met her death.

****************************************************

Fluttering her eyes open, (Y/N) first noticed the abnormal sky. Instead of a nice blue color with white clouds and a bright sun, she was met with a dark red sky with a brighter red marking acting like the sun (later realizing the marking was a pentagram).

“Ugh…” she groaned, scrunching her eyes closed to get rid of the headache she had. It felt like she had fallen and hit her head on a sharp rock.

“Well it’s about time thou woke up.” A voice said, the young girl opening her eyes at the new voice.

“We thought thou would sleep for the entire day.” Another voice heard. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she slowly turned around to the source of the voice, gasping when she saw two creatures standing behind her, both with smirks on their faces.

The tallest creature had a fair green complexion, the kind of green you would never find out in the forest surely. Her hair was an ever lighter green, almost yellow, color that was so long it draped on the floor. Her eyes were the same green color and on top of her head were two horns that curved inwards, the same color of her skin. Her eyes reminded (Y/N) of a cat, analyzing its prey carefully as her slightly pointy ears twitched. On her face were white freckles that seemed to be glowing against the green. Now the second creature looked more or less the same like the first, except instead of green skin she was a blue color, and to mention how much shorter her hair was. Her hair was a mix between a dark blue and a purple, her predator-like eyes having that same shade of blue. And like the first demon she had the horns and freckles, but really caught (Y/N)’s attention was the round jewel that was placed inbetween their collarbone and chest area, the jewel being their respected colors; green and blue.

“Wh-Who art thou?” (Y/N) asked, mentally cursing herself for the stutter. But she was surprised to see the two laugh at her question.

“Don’t tell us thou art so daft that thou doesn’t recognize thy sisters?” The green one hummed, its suddenly clicking into place for the youngest girl.

“Regina! Mary!” She gasped, quickly standing up and going to hug her sisters. “The two of thou are okay! But thou looks so…” she trailed off, breaking the hug as she analyzed the pair one more time.

“Different?” Mary laughed, putting a blue hand on her chest. “Tell me about it! But we aren’t the only ones, sister.”

Scrunching her eyebrows, (Y/N) looked down at her hands. Instead of her normal skin tone, her eyes widened to find that she was… pink? “Lord in heaven…” she trailed off, Regina laughing lightly as her green hand took (Y/N)’s pink one. The taller sister than pulled out a piece of glass from her pocket, pressing it into her palm.

(Y/N) blinked as she stared into reflection, putting her hand on her face. Her skin, like she had assumed from the state of her hands, was a pink color. Her (hair length) hair was a slightly darker than her skin, and like her sisters she had horns that were shaped inwards at the top of her head. And yet, the felt completely weightless. Her (eye color) eyes had turned to red, almost reminding her of blood.

And of course she had a pink gem in the center of her collarbone and chest.

“What is this?” (Y/N) asked breathlessly, lightly grazing the shiny gem with her fingertips.

“We do not know.” Regina sighed, covering her hem with her hand as well. “They are lovely thought, are they not?”

“Yes, very lovely.” (Y/N) hummed, a certain glint in her eyes. Something of mischief? Something of fondness? Who knew.

“So this is Hell?” Mary asked, raising a brow at the scene in front of her. “It’s doesn’t look as fiery as the Bible described…”

The scene in front of them was something that resembled their colony. Except it was a deep maroon colored, stone path that winded throughout the setting. And in the far distance, there was a tall, golden colored castle that clashed against the red colors that seemed to be the theme here.

“The Bible has a tendency to over exaggerate things.” A voice said, making the three girls jump in surprise. Quickly turning around, (Y/N) was puzzled at the man in front of her.

He had pale skin, almost white, with rosy cheeks. His dark colored eyes were wide as he grinned, she sharp teeth almost blinding them with how bright it was. His yellow hair was swooped back neatly, it being mostly covered with a white top hat that matched his white suit. Around the hat was a pointy, golden crown with a snake and apple lying on the rim. His white suit was accented with red and blacks, the pants of his suit being tucked into tall, black boots. The stag he was holding seemed to go perfectly with his tuxedo, the long black cane over towering him. The same red apple that was on his hat was also on the top of his cane, it reflecting in the light as he spun it.

Which brought the youngest witch to notice how short he was. Shorter than all three of them even.

“Who art thou?” Mary asked, raising a brow as she sized him. The demon smiled seemed to have widened before snapping his fingers, becoming closer to them without even having to move his legs.

“Hi, yes, hello!” He said almost to cheerily, shaking each sister’s hand aggressively which had them stunned. “I must say, it’s an absolute honor to meet such powerful witches! An honor!”

“Thank you.” Regina said flatly, sharing a look with (Y/N) and Mary. “But again, who art thou?”

“Oh, yes!” He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “I am the one and only big guy;” he began before spreading his arms out with jazz hands, the girls squinting a bit as a very large lit up sign that spelled out a name appeared behind him. There were four arrows along with the name, the lights flashing rhythmically almost like that would prove the point of him being the “big guy”. “Lucifer! King of Hell himself!”

(Y/N) gaped at him with wide eyes, and glancing at her sisters she saw that they were equally surprised as she was.

“I know, I know. Hold your applause, please.” The King of Hell hummed, clapping his hands twice. And just like that, the lit up sign disappeared.

“Thou… thou is the devil?” Regina asked, pointing at him with her finger.

“Thou is.” He replied smugly, twirling his hand with his hand.

“But thou is so… short?” Mary questioned. Almost immediately, he had stopped spinning his cane. His previously dark hair eyes had turned a fiery red color, his smile turning into a cold sneer.

“Watch it!” He growled loudly, Mary swallowing a bit as she nodded. As soon as she nodded, his previous happy expression returned as he began walking towards them, the three sisters parting a bit to let him walk past them. “Now, we have a lot to discuss. Why don’t you follow me, yeah? That sound good?”

He didn’t wait for a reply as he continued walking.

“Do we follow him?” Mary asked, Regina rolling her shoulders as she thought. The green sister than smirked, not saying anything as she walked forward. Mary chuckled a bit as she walked together with Regina.

(Y/N) stared at her sister’s backs for a moment, thinking about her options here. Staring at the red sky, she clenched and unclenched her hands in a way to calm herself.

“(Y/N), art thou coming?” She heard Mary call for her.

“Yes! Coming!” She breathed out, jogging to catch up with them.

A/N: hey guys, soooo I hope we all enjoyed this story. This was just a prologue so the actual story will be posted soon 😇

If you have any suggestions, concerns, or comments please let me know!! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Tagslist: @xdolls-crownx @sugarrush-blush @enjisthings

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eddo-tensei · 4 months

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This will never not make me laugh

In case you don't know what this is, this is all the sightings of Socqueline Wang in Season 5. Aside from her debut, she only had like two cameos before her big moment in Derision's flashback where she turned out to be this super important figure in Marinette's life...and then she just disappears from the season altogether after the flashback is over. Right after we find out how she got suspended, she just stops showing up for the rest of the season. She doesn't even appear in the present of the same episode or even cameo in the background in episodes afterwards. She's just gone. It's like after they showed her getting suspended and this epic farewell scene between her and Marinette where she rips off the Majesta speech from Alya (Because why not steal one more thing from Alya?), they just treat it as though she isn't in Paris anymore even though we saw her two episodes ago still helping her friends. All this does is serve to prove that Socqueline's entire character is just to provide tragedy for Marinette's backstory and nothing else. I can't even say this is salt for Socqueline because this feels like the writers throwing her out as soon as she apparently fulfilled her purpose in showing Marinette having a big sad because of mean old Chloe. She doesn't even appear in the background of Revolution in protest of Chloe, which you think she would considering how much she hated Chloe. It's an instance of them just creating a disposable character purely just to prove a point and instead of keeping her in the cast, they just throw her into the bin because she doesn't serve a purpose anymore. More people hate Chloe now and that's all that matters to the writers. Screw actually developing this character who's supposedly a great figure in one of our main character's lives. As far as the writers are concerned, she already fulfilled her purpose in the narrative and that's infuriating to me because of how utterly manipulative it all comes across as.

Is this irrational? Am I too upset at the treatment of what's basically a minor character in this show? You be the judge.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #mlb #ml writers salt #ml writing salt #ml writing critical #socqueline wang #ml derision #marinette dupain cheng

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thewulf · 10 months

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Strongly Dislike You || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Here is what I’m thinking and it was a dream so bare with me. but a little ways in the future two OC characters have a kid together.The reader is friends with one and jake/bradley are friends with the other. Unfortunately tragedy strikes and both ocs pass away... Read Rest Here

A/N: The three times your grew to love Jake Seresin and the one time you fell in love. LOVED writing this one! Hope you enjoy :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 5.4k +

Slamming down the legal document you turned toward the lawyer who was divvying up your best friends assets with bulging eyes, “What the fuck?”

Before he could continue you turned towards Jake sitting in the seat across from you with downturned eyes. He’d been different since the accident. Since your best friend Holly and her husband Jared were snatched right from the world. Taken far too soon. Stripped from the pleasure of raising their daughter.

You’d been in a state of nothingness for the last week as you really processed what the hell happened. It honestly didn’t feel real. If felt like they just moved away. Like you could still call or text her when you needed to cry. When you needed to feel any emotion. She had been with you through life. Fast friends when you moved next to her family in the sixth grade. Two girls tied at the hip.

Holly had fallen in love with the local pilot boy five years ago. The two of you lived perhaps the most opposite lives than Jared did. He flew jets on a daily basis. The two of you worked as accountants at the same firm. You went to the same middle school, high school, college and now accounting firm. She was more of a sister to you. A sister that was killed. Killed senselessly. Who would’ve thought your friends would’ve been murdered in a bank robbery. It almost made you laugh when you were out of tears. Didn’t that shit only happened in movies? They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

And sweet Rosie. Rosie girl. Their beautiful two-year-old girl that had you wrapped around her little finger had lost her world. She was ripped of the opportunity to be raised by the two best people you knew.

“Did you know about this?” You asked Jake. He was so quiet, too quiet. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like the asshole you hated.

You’d met Jake when Holly had taken you to the Hard Deck to meet Derek. It was a trick double-date. It didn’t go that great. Even Jared had to admit that as he was driving you home. It frustrated you beyond belief. You usually found it pretty easy to get along with new people. Jake was an exception. He was cocky. Arrogant beyond belief. He reminded you of your local frat boys.

He shook his head slowly letting out a low sigh, “No. Not a clue.”

Your head slowly turned back to the bored looking lawyer sitting between the two of you, “So, we live together and take care of Rosie?” Your eyes closed not really believing the words you just spoke. Your mind was exploding with a thousand thoughts in a million different directions. Why wouldn’t Holly have told you about this? Were they planning to? Did you have to do this?

“If you wish to inherit all of Jared and Holly’s assets, yes.” He confirmed with a faint nod of his head not giving you an ounce of emotion.

A deep sigh ripped from your mouth, “But living together? That’s…”

He, rather rudely, cut you off before you could continue, “A clause.”

Jake eyed you. A small smile toying at the end of his lips. He knew you weren’t his biggest fan. You had to assume the feeling was mutual. It’s not like you treated him kindly over the last few years of having the pleasure of knowing him.

You shook your head, “Why?” You couldn’t get passed the whole ‘you must live in the same home’ statement.

The lawyer let out an anguished sigh letting you very clearly know you were wasting his time. He shuffled through the papers finding the line he needed. An almost impish look of self-satisfaction washed over him when he did before looking up at you with a stoic face, “In the event that I, Jared Wittaker, and my wife Holly Wittaker both pass away we leave everything with the Godparents, Jake Seresin and Y/N Y/L/N, should they reside in the Wittaker residence for the betterment of our daughter Rosie and her stability. Should they disagree all assets are forfeited.”

An incredulously dazed look sprang on your face as you realized, “Wait, we have to live in their home?”

“Yes.” The lawyer set the papers down holding his hands in a fist atop the shiny wooded table that sat in his office.

Giving yourself whiplash you turned back to Jake who just sat there smiling now. Looking right at you, “You’re being awfully quiet Seresin.” Eyes narrowed in on his, he couldn’t really be thinking about doing this, right?

He shrugged finding your mini-breakdown amusing, “I’m in.”

Playing with the hem of your shirt in your hands your nerves were starting to get the better of you, “What?”

Looking ever so nonchalant he kept smiling right at you, “I’m in if you are.”

“This isn’t a joke Jake. This is a baby. Rosie’s life.” If looks could kill, Jake would be slain on the floor right now. But alas, they could not.

His smile only seemed to flourish as he watched you squirm. Bastard. He got off on this kind of stuff, you’d convinced yourself of that.

“Oh darlin’. You don’t think I know that?” He leaned forward egging you on with that damn smile, “Look. It’s what they wanted. The home was paid off by his family years ago. It’s been in Jared’s family for forever. That means you get a free place to stay. I get a free place to stay. Rosie gets two people who love her to death taking care of her. I know you don’t like me Y/N, but the house is big enough

Cheeks flushed red with embarrassment you sat back in your seat. You’d normally been the rational one. Why was he being it today? Why were you so emotionally drained from the man already?

You hated caving into this deal, but he was right. It’s clearly what they wanted. Chewing on your bottom lip thinking of all the options you finally gave in, “Alright then.

The lawyer tossed you and Jake both a set of house keys unamused by the dialogue going on between the two of you. He looked tired. Probably dealt with this shit all day.

“Just like that?”

He nodded, “Just like that.”

Your hand hesitantly grabbed the key in front of you. Grabbing the cool metal, you twisted it under the light wondering. Wondering what this life could have been for that family. Rosie was horrifically lucky really. She’d never have to know the despair of losing her parents. The same despair you were fighting at that present moment.

“Are you sure?” Jake asked crossing his arms over his chest with a countenance of devilish delight dancing across his features.

Nodding quickly, you added the key to your key ring, signifying it’s permanence in your life, “Yes Jake. I’m positive. I’ll be the

Leaning forward even further so that his hands were touching yours he gave you a quick shake of his head, “Can’t be darlin’. I’ll be there too.” He tossed a wink in your direction before thanking the lawyer. He waltzed out that door with so much confidence you were sure you’d just dreamed the whole thing up. Except you didn’t. Your new reality began when you stepped through that front door once more.

Dislike

It was quarter end at work which meant you were pulling doubles trying to get all your work done. Accounting was fun all up until quarter end. Then it was your hellish nightmare as you switched between coffees and caffeine drinks to keep you going. It was only a few weeks out of the year, but it felt like a million years when you were in the thick of it.

Not only was it quarter end but you were catching up on all the work you missed. It’d been a month since you and Jake moved in together with Rosie as your almost adopted daughter. Your boss had been kind enough to get you some time off but not enough so to help with the work you’d missed. The month had been interesting, to say the least. Jake was not as bad as you made him out to be in your mind, but he still pissed you off to nearly no end. He was never wrong. Jake would quite literally argue until his face was blue. It was something you were just going to have to deal with now. You’d agree to it. You’d learn how to live with him.

You’d pulled into the driveway a little after six with your phone buzzing in your hand. Looking down you frowned seeing Rosie’s Daycare calling. That was odd.

“Hello, is this Y/N?” A female voice rung from the other end of the line.

“Yes. This is her.” You turned off your car juggling your phone, keys and bag while trying to make sure you hear her.

“Hi. We close in 15 minutes, and I just wanted to make sure somebody is coming to pick up Rosie?” She sounded nervous, like you’d explode on her or something. Quite the opposite. You sat there in silence as your heart dropped down to your ass.

Your eyes scrunched together. Today was Jake’s day to grab Rosie. You’d gone over it with him nearly a hundred times this weekend making sure he was on the same page as you. Spinning around on your heals you stopped when you spotted his car parked on the street. He was home and Rosie was not. He fucking forgot her.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry. Time just got away from me.” You gave her a breathy laugh trying to play it cool, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“No problem at all miss. Thank you.” She hung the phone up quickly. Daycare was only five minutes away. That gave you approximately three minutes to go yell at him and chew his forgetful ass out before you needed to get to Rosie.

Storming into the house you slammed the door open. Even you cringed a little when the door hit the wall. That wall would need a little love later.

“Jake Seresin!” You screeched like a banshee beside yourself. Your hands were shaking so bad your phone was at risk from flying right out of your hand.

“Would you cool it?” He gave you a sly smile while sauntering out of his bedroom. He leaned on the wall at the end of the hallway giving you a humorous look, “Broke the damn wall darlin’.” Normally you’d find his slow southern drawl at the end of the day semi-relaxing. Slowly growing used to this new lifestyle. But now? Now it sounded like nails on a chalk board.

Shaking your head, you were trying to reign the anger in, “Where the fuck is Rosie, Jake?” Biting your cheek from saying something overly nasty you simply flared your nostrils in rage. Rage that’d he forget the most important part of the plan. The toddler who was probably wondering where in the hell her sub parents are. She too was slowly getting used to it. She refused to call either you or Jake ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ but it didn’t bother you. You were new to her developing brain. She had to relearn everything. Her routines were shaken in an instant. How jarring that must be for such a little one you thought.

He looked at you, then the wall, then the floor, then back at you with wide eyes finally processing your words, “I’m on my way.” He knew he’d fucked up. You’d even reminded him that morning. That was strike number 89 against him. He only seemed to be fumbling this more and more. He was trying. He really was. It was just hard. Harder than he’d ever expected. Jared made it seem so easy. He has to take it up another level. Right now. For you and Rosie.

You’d never seen him move so fast almost flying out of the house. The bitter look on your face didn’t stop you from high tailing it right behind him throwing yourself in the passenger’s seat before he raced off.

“How could you forget?” The adrenaline had worn down now and you just felt depleted. Depleted and scared.

“I…” He looked over at you before quickly shifting his eyes on the road, “I don’t know. I don’t have an answer. It was a busy day at work and I… I let it get it me.”

You kept your stare straight forward willing the truck to get there a little bit faster.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. It won’t happen again. This is all so new. I’m trying here.”

Your eyes peaked over at him as your head turned slowly, “Try harder.” It was a little brutal. You knew it. But he also couldn’t forget your child at daycare. She was your child now. Your responsibly. And if anything happened to Holly’s daughter, to sweet little Rosie, you’d thought you just might end up with Holly up in heaven.

“Fuck.” He groaned gunning it through a nearly red light before sliding the truck into the parking spot in the front. You took a quick peak noticing the lack of cars in the parking lot before jumping out of the vehicle. You ran inside muttering a quick apology to the girl at the front. Scanning for Rosie you spotted her coloring in the corner.

Jake stayed back apologizing to the last employee there. You’d heard bits of the conversation before fully focusing your attention on the small girl, “Rosie, baby.” You squatted down opening your arms up for her, giving her a choice.

She looked up giving you a sweet smile, golden curls bouncing as she turned her head, “Hi Y/N.” She put the Crayon down before running over to hug you.

Squeezing her in your arms you picked her up giving her a soft kiss on the crown of her head, “How was your day cutie?” You placed her on your hip letting her get acclimated. She recently exploded in speech chatting you and Jake up constantly. It was adorable.

She nodded before yawning, “Good! Played Barbie.” She grinned pointing to the doll house in the corner with all sorts of different Barbie’s and dolls stacked inside.

“Did you? Was it fun?” You asked walking over to get her shoes on. Little did you know Jake was watching the entire interaction close to swooning at how gentle you were with her. How you were treating her like a human, a real person and not some little nuisance that didn’t have feelings. Your maternal instincts kicked in quick, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jake. That was partially why he’d felt so damn bad about failing left and right. Because you weren’t. It seemed to come so naturally to you it made him feel almost inadequate. You knew what to do in every situation.

You didn’t feel that way of course. And Jake wasn’t really as bad as he thought he was. This was his first big fuck up and you just wanted him to really feel it. When you turned around seeing the look of love written all over his face it sent a pang of guilt right to your heart. You offered him a small genuine smile before turning back to Rosie, tying up her little laces coated in rainbows and unicorns together. It was a gift from your mom after she’d learned of your new fate. She vehemently disagreed with your decision to do this. But you couldn’t let go of Rosie. She was too much like Holly to give her up. The colorful shoes were a peace offering you gladly accepted.

She giggled, “Fun!” Clapping her petite hands together her joy brought a bright smile upon your own face.

“That makes me so happy!” You gave her leg a light squeeze, “Are you ready to go home Rosie girl?”

She nodded, “Hungry.” Patting her belly, she kicked her legs into yours softly.

You let off a soft laugh. That never ceased to get rise out of you. It’ll be a sad day when she grows out of those gestures.

“Jake is going to make us dinner. Isn’t that right Jake?” You looked up seeing he moved closer not dropping that look. The look you’d literally only seen tonight from him. It felt foreign.

“That’s right. For my favorite girls.” He nodded softly.

“Alright. Let’s get going so we can eat.” You bent down to pick up the overtired toddler. A fun day of play for sure. She held onto you with all the strength she had left. Jake led the way opening the door and car door for you. You buckled her into the car seat with ease. Finally getting comfortable with the thing after a few weeks of triple checking your work.

You hopped in the passenger’s seat after Jake gave her a quick kiss giving her a quick hello. You thought about him for a second. His favorite girls? Was he just putting on a show or telling the truth? After a few moments of silent driving, he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I will try harder. I promise.” He sounded sincere. Your panic must’ve gotten through to him only twenty minutes prior.

You nodded accepting his words, “I believe you.”

A genuine smile crossed his face taking in your words. Satisfied.

Partial Dislike

Her crying woke you with a startle. Being woken up in the middle of deep dreamless sleep was shocking. It took you longer than normal to hobble on over to the baby girls room.

“Sweet girl.” You cooed before seeing Jake sitting there in the rocker holding her with a bottle of something. He cradled her head in between his bicep and chest as she sprawled across his lap. Tired and ornery, a dangerous combo. The terrible twos were striking hard for the little one. His other handheld the bottle steady to her chest so she could sip it out. Her eyes were already drooping by the time you’d walked into the room.

A wave of relief rushed over your own chest as you witnessed the sweet moment before you. You took a mental snapshot of the precious moment. A beautiful moment between the two newly found humans.

Jake looked up at you with a faint smile gracing his lips, “Got her.” He whispered stoking a gentle thumb down her arm. She was fading fast not even acknowledging your presence. You’d usually been the first one there, but it took an act of God himself to wake you tonight. But Jake was on it. He had been on it for a little while now. Another month had passed, and you hadn’t been on his throat for almost all of it. What a strange feeling. You’d been merely tolerating him, but Rosie had been bringing you closer unknowingly. She demanded both of you pay attention to her when you were both home�� or else. Whatever that threat meant from a toddler.

You sent him a soft nod as you kept observing the precious scene before you. He took your statement to heart. He was trying harder. Stepping up in a way you’d never expected.

“Thank you.” You whispered taking a step closer to the duo, “I was knocked out.”

He nodded continuing to rock her, “Go back to sleep darlin’. I’ve got her. It’s been nice spending some time with her.” He urged you out of the room with a sweep of his head towards the door.

“You sure?” You took a step closer brushing a stray curl out of her face.

“Positive. She’d knocked out anyway. But I want to hold her for a little more. It’s nice” He looked down sheepishly at the small child cuddled right in his arms.

The moment was beyond anything you’d experienced in this lifetime. Who would’ve thought it’d come at 3 AM on a random Wednesday morning. Oh, how fascinating life was.

“She’s so beautiful isn’t she?” The sleeping girl had let go of the bottle as her head turned into Jake’s shoulder, nuzzling right up on him. She felt so comfortable in his arms. She was adapting quickly. Soon her parents would be a distant memory in that ever-expanding brain. It broke your heart. Holly didn’t get a chance to raise her. As much as you cherished the precious girl it still hurt knowing the consequence of it.

“She’s the most beautiful little girl in the world.” He continued brushing her arms whispering quietly careful not to wake the sleeping baby.

Your heart did a weird flutter at those words. He was growing on you, quickly. Scarily quickly. He’d morphed into a new man in front of yours eyes over the last two months. One that took words to heart and picked it up.

“She is.” You gave him a full-on smile as you took your last mental snapshot, “Night Jake. Sleep well.”

“You too, Y/N.” He gave you a gentle nod careful not to disturb her.

Kinda Liking Him

It wasn’t a bad day. It just sucked that you had to go in today, a Saturday. But your boss needed some extra work done and you were next up on the overtime docket. Jake was off taking Rosie for the day.

Things were going well. Almost too well. You were waiting on the shoe to drop but it was month four and the two of you were molding together quicker than ever. Finding an easy routine between the two of you. Rosie adapted better than you’d ever dreamed of. She blossomed after month three. Her short questions and answers were turning into full blown conversations.

You’d called out once you’d entered the house hearing it weirdly quiet. There was definitely no toddler in here. Your nerves began to bubble until you found yourself at your backdoor peeking out into the backyard.

The nerves died down when you saw Jake chasing Rosie around the small playground Jared had built for Rosie a year ago, even though she was still far too small to use it. He was just so excited he got a mega head start. Lucky for her it’d be here when she wanted it. Her daddy built it for her. Just for her.

You stood and watched her screaming laughter as Jake sped up and slow down. He’d tickle her for a second and she sprint off in laughter once more. Jake let her speed off before he slowly started chasing her once again.

All was good and well right up until she slipped on some wet grass and fell on the bricks that lined the garden bed skinning her knee. You winced as the sudden silence was met with a screaming crying toddler suddenly. Blood tricked down from the small cut.

Jake scooped her up in a hurry rocking her in his arms. When that was only left with more wails he hightailed it for the house knowing he needed to distract the weepy toddler before he’d be able to clean up the wound.

You opened the door for him as he got closer not wanting him to slow down trying to wrangle it open with a squirmy toddler in his hands.

He hopped through with a smile waving at you with his free hand, “Your home.” The harsh glares turned to softer looks as you got to know the real him more. You’d really never given him a chance to before and you were slowly starting to regret your actions. Brushed off the man for years based on a snap judgment made all those years ago. Oh well, at least you were learning the real him now.

“I am.” You smiled, “I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

He nodded, “I’ll distract her in the meantime.”

You’d handed him the kit after retrieving it from the bathroom. Taking a step back you watched him take over the situation. He’d gotten her a lollipop, her favorite. The tears almost instantly stopped once she spotted the sucker in his hand.

You watched as he cleaned it off with water in the sink before dabbing it dry and disinfecting it. He told her it would sting, and she needed to be a big girl.

You grinned in amazement as she clutched onto Jakes hand as he dabbed the wound clean with the alcohol making sure it wouldn’t get infected with her falling all the time still. She let out a soft sigh when he said, “All done, you’re so brave Rosie.”

She nodded along with him, “I am brave.”

“So strong too.” He smiled continuing to clean the wound with Neosporin before finishing off with a Barbie Band-Aid. Her favorite thing in the world.

“Strong?”

Jake grabbed her arm squeezing it softly, “So strong! You fall down sometimes but you get back up. We’re so proud of you for that.”

“I am strong.” She smiled agreeing with him. Giving him a flex of her bicep mimicking his action of ‘strong’. Your smile grew and grew as you watched him reinforce this into the girl. She was growing so quickly. She had to remember how strong she really was. Growing and adapting in the world and with new people at the same time.

“All done.” Jake tapped her nose.

She looked down squealing almost instantly, “It’s Barbie!” The cut hadn’t even phased the girl any longer. She was so excited to have Barbie on her leg it didn’t seem to matter anymore. You watched as he set her down on the floor. She took off going to go play with her toys in the room adjacent.

Jake turned to you, “Thank you.”

“No need. You did great there Jake. Looked like a natural.”

He raised a brow, “A rare compliment? What a day!”

“Oh, shove it up your ass Jake.” You rolled your eyes playfully beginning to walk to the room over wanting to play with Rosie.

“Only if you do it for me darlin’!” He grinned knowing that’d get a rise out of you.

You stifled a giggle not wanting to give him satisfaction, “Pig.”

“You love it.” His was grinning ear to ear. Happier than ever. He’d seemingly figured it out. Gotten into the routine of it. Gotten you to finally warm up to him. He’d never felt like this before. So whole. So, himself. He could only thank the two of you for completing him.

“Maybe I do.” You whispered before vanishing off leaving him to his thoughts.

Oh Shit, I Love Him

You walked downstairs finding Jake sitting at the kitchen table eating some eggs, “Rosie’s sick.” You sighed. You were surprised it hadn’t happened sooner honestly. Day care could be a brutal place.

He nodded, “Thought so, she seemed warm when I kissed her forehead this morning.”

“I’ll call in.” You sat down feeling the sleepiness take over secretly happy to take the day off.

He shook his head, “I don’t mind. I haven’t used a sick day yet this year.”

You shrugged, “Let’s both call off. There’s a bad flu going around anyway.”

He gave you a gorgeous shit eating grin. It’s been six months now and it was almost perfect. Your like for him was bubbling into love. He’d not only tried harder but kicked it into high gear. He’d taken on the role of father to the next level. He was her everything and she was his everything. Your love grew for him as you watched his bond with Rosie blossom into the most gorgeous relationship you’d ever seen. Seeing an almost three your old bring a grown man to his knees always brought a chuckle out of you.

“That’s a great idea darlin’.” He’d never dropped the term of endearment with you. However, it didn’t sound so condescending. It oozed honey as he filled it out with his southern drawl over time. He just knew how to suck you right on in.

The two of you sat there chatting casually while watching the discovery channel in the background. Things had gotten so easy with him. They’d gotten so natural between the two of you.

When the monitor started humming with her cries he was the first one up rushing to her crib before pulling her out gently, “It’s okay Rosie.” He held her in his arms.

You watched in awe as he cooled her down with a cold washcloth and some milk. She drunk it slowly unsure if it’d hurt her stomach or not. He didn’t ask for a lick of help as he poured the children’s Tylenol into syringe. He effortlessly gave her the medicine even getting a small smile from the sleepy sick girl.

It was at that moment you knew you loved him. You had love for him for a while now but seeing him so gentle with her sent you into orbit. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched him lay her down telling her a story until her heard her breathe even out.

Oh shit, you loved the damn man you swore you hated only six months ago. He’d weaseled his way in and carved and carved and he didn’t need to carve anymore. He had it. He had your heart wholly.

“What?” He asked as the two of you settled back on the couch ready to return back to conversation.

You shook your head suspiciously quick, “Nothing.”

“Bullshit darlin’. Can’t bullshit a bullshitter.” He winked at you while biting his damn lip on the side revealing a set of gorgeously white teeth. He has to know what he was doing to you.

You laughed, “It’s sweet. Watching the two of you.”

“There’s more.” He pressed scooting a touch closer to you.

“You’re so good with her.” You whispered eyes looking anywhere but at his.

“Darlin’, look at me.” He wanted to touch your cheek, but he didn’t want to fuck it up already. He had an inkling you grew to like him as much as he’d always liked you. He’d of course grown to love you over the same amount of time. As much as he’d grown he’d watched as you blossomed and matured into a new woman. You’d become a mom over the last six months. Vowing to protect her over anything. You were beyond fierce and crazy loyal. He’d always known you were something special. Something different.

You’d listened. You’d always listen to him now. God damn, he had you wrapped around his finger. He’d admit to the same though. He’d do anything you ask. Anything in the world.

“I like you.” There it was. He’d put it out into the universe for you to take or reject. It was all up to you.

You turned your head. The last thing you were expecting from him, “You do?”

“A lot. I like you a lot.” He confirmed aching to touch you anywhere. But not until you confirmed. Not until he knew for sure.

Your smile brightened tenfold as you processed his words, “I like you too. A lot. I like you a lot Jake Seresin.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” He cupped your face gently settling the urge down gently.

“Who would’ve thought.” You laughed softly putting a little pressure on his hand. Letting him know you really did like it, his touch.

He chucked scooting close to you now, “Certainly not me. I thought you hated me.”

You nodded considering your words, “I wouldn’t say hated. I’d say… strongly disliked.”

He threw his head back full of laughter bubbling out of his mouth. When he caught his breath he continued, “Strongly disliked it is. Look where we are now though.” He’s place a gentle hand on your thigh rubbing soft circles with his thumb. He’d enjoyed the goosebumps that erupted from your skin with his gentle touch.

You’d nodded your head looking into his eyes, “To liked. Strongly disliked to really strongly liked.” You’d confirmed once again.

He beamed, “I’m going to kiss you now.” He placed his other hand on your cheek holding your head in his hands.

You nodded eagerly feeling every emotion as he brought his hands to your face, holding you like you were made of glass, “Please do.” You whispered before his lips touched yours for the first of many times.

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