#the authors won’t let her leave her abusive husband

[incorrectlit]

YOUR A WARRIORS FAN???? A SQUILF ENJOYER?????? THIS IS AMAZING!!!!!!! rip dostoyevsky... you wouldve loved squirrelflight warrior cats ,,!!!

YES warriors has been my guilty pleasure since I was 8 (16 years later, I still read every new book when they come out) and squilf is my absolute favorite character! It goes beyond just WC tho — she’s one of my favorite characters in ANYTHING, right up there with Raskolnikov and my beloved Prince Myshkin

#tfw the story team of a kids series about feral cats #accidentally creates a character so tragic that not even Dostoevsky could compete #I’m not even joking #poor Squirrelflight is more tragic than any Dostoevsky character #except for MAYBE Myshkin or Sonya #at least she’s leader now #the authors won’t let her leave her abusive husband #bc they refuse to acknowledge that he’s abusive #honestly it makes me worried about the authors’ relationships lol #I could write an entire essay about the tragedy of Squirrelflight and Leafpool #no joke starclan is a critique of organized religion #on par with the grand inquisitor #by sheer accident #but the authors still insist on pushing the message that god is infallible #despite their god being hypocritical and unreliable and cruel #hannah speaks

[oven-thermometer]

Don’t Ask.

Summary: Damian needs a place to spend the night, somewhere he won’t be riddled with questions – somewhere he’d feel safe. Jason’s place just seems to materialise. 

(NOT A SHIP)

a/n: my bff and I made a sims world for dc and cod characters. that’s how this started. enjoy. This is a hurt/comfort if you were wondering. 

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, past trauma, swearing, the author has never written for dc before, spelling mistakes problably.

w/c: 4.7k

It was raining when Jason pushed the doors open. He had been sitting in that stuffy room in a sharing circle for what felt like hours. He hadn’t spoken much in today’s session, not that he minded. He preferred the days were he could sit back and silently make his own judgements about the other people sitting in shitty plastic chairs, pouring their hearts out for six strangers and one mildly qualified doctor.

A soft hand touched his arm as he stared listlessly at the wet parking lot. Turning his head, he found the comforting smile of Meemaw Vicky staring at him. The elderly woman had insisted he call her Vicky, it made her feel young apparently – he added the ‘Meemaw’ part himself to tease her.

“You didn’t talk in there today.” She remarked, letting her hand fall from his arm in preference of standing next to him.

“Didn’t feel like any of the topics applied to me much.” He lied.

She just hummed in reply, letting him stew in the fact that she knew exactly what he actually wanted to say. ‘Today just felt like one of those days where if I talk too much I’ll drop dead.’ 

She knew because she had those days too, he knew that as well. She was in the same therapy group as him, and he’d heard some of her stories. Her husband being murdered in front of her from a home invasion wasn’t what he was expecting to come out of what seemed to be the kindest old lady, although he didn’t think anyone was prepared to hear his truth either. He left out the raised by batman and dying part, but being kidnapped by the Joker was all too well known by some of the people in this godforsaken community center. 

Breaking out of his trance, Jason inhaled sharply, “You still coming over tomorrow?”

“Yes, and I’ll be bringing a surprise, I think you’ll like it.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, just kept watching the soft rain pattering onto the ground. 

“I’m sure I will, Meemaw.”

Jason helped her to the bus stop, leaving with a kiss on his cheek and a dish of leftover mac and cheese he wasn’t sure where she was keeping. 

Something was wrong. When he had arrived home, the rain still making itself known, something had been off. None of his lights were on, so he couldn’t see in – but the welcome mat Barbra had gotten him was scuffed with mud he knew he hadn’t tracked in last night after his patrol. Checking the front door confirmed it was still locked. 

Opening the door slowly, he surveyed the room. His bottom floor was completely open plan, save for a cupboard acting as a divider between the kitchen and the living room. Nothing was amiss from what he could see, except for his missing dog. She always woke up before he actually got in, waiting to greet him at the door. But she was missing and he couldn’t even hear her soft snores. 

Then he heard it. A soft mumble. Something he couldn’t make out. But he had heard it. It had come from his living room area. When he made his way over, he couldn’t do anything except let out a deep, annoyed sigh. 

“I thought dogs were meant to deter unwanted guests.”

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne sat on Jason’s beaten up couch with a neutral expression as he ran his hand behind Dog’s ear. She looked up at Jason, her tongue flopping out. Damian seemed to either be in a deep comatose state, or he was completely ignoring Jason’s presence. 

“What? No snarky comment or backhanded compliment?” Jason asked as he moved to turn the lights on. When he turned back to the teenager, the bruises littering his neck catches his attention immediately. From what he could see they continued all the way round and disappeared under his shirt too. He would’ve been alarmed if it weren’t for the fact that Damian was a crime-fighting vigilante, had a kill count in the triple digits and oh yeah, was the son of Batman. So Jason just shook his head and walked to the kitchen. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’re here?” Jason called out, busying himself with shoving some of the mac and cheese in the microwave.

Dog had finally let up on her pure betrayal. She trotted over to Jason, purely unaware as she scratched at her food bowl. 

With no response coming from the couch’s occupant, Jason just rolled his eyes and bent down to pet Dog and fill her food bowl. Her slightly crossed eyes closed as she licked at his face before she started on her dinner. She was a certified therapy dog, another gift from that group therapy. She worked, though. She gave him something to get out of bed for. Whatever happened, he knew he had to get home and feed Dog. And she calmed him down during the occasional panic attack, so he didn’t mind the downside of walks and feeding too much. 

Later, after Jason and Damian had sat at the kitchen island in silence and each had eaten their own dinner, Damian got up without a word and began washing the few dishes left in the sink. Jason knew not to argue with him when he started doing something. He settled for watching him as he washed and rinsed, offering the occasional help when he noticed the boy would stop for a few seconds as he didn’t know where something was. At this point Jason was getting slightly concerned. Damian was never this quiet. He would show up without explanation sometimes, but he’d always offer some insult or sassy statement throughout the visit. This wasn’t normal. 

Checking his phone, no out of the ordinary messages peaked his interest, no one asking where Damian was or who had him. Then, the time caught his eye. If Damian went to sleep any later, he’d be a disaster to deal with in the morning and there weren’t enough therapy dogs in the world for that patience test. 

“C’mon, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.” 

Just before Jason left his bedroom to let Damian get some sleep, he stopped. Damian was standing next to his bed, awkwardly wringing his hands together and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. 

His voice was small when he spoke, and it sounded too broken for it’s own good, “I presume Alfred has been told of my whereabouts.”

“Nope.” His reply was quick and matter-of-fact. 

“He would want to know where I am – and so would… so would father.” The last part was softer, almost like he didn’t want to say it in the first place. 

“Between you and me, I can tell when someone doesn’t wanna be found just yet.” 

The door made a soft click as Jason closed it behind him. Dog was all too happy when she got to smother him completely as he lay down on the couch.

The next morning, as the last part of yesterday’s rain still prattled on stubbornly against his windows, Jason stood in the kitchen with his favourite mug. His neighbour had gotten it for him, a house-warming gift. He hated the stupid camo decals but it was the first genuine gift he had gotten in years. So he kept it. Not hearing the sound of careful footsteps coming down the stairs, Jason blinked his thoughts away when Damian’s unkempt set of dark curls entered his peripheral vision. 

“Rough night?” Jason joked.

“What? I stayed in the room if that’s what-“

“It’s an expression dumbass, your hair looks like it’s going in five different directions.”

“…Oh.” That small glimpse of innocence and the look of a tiny epiphany in Damian made Jason smile, but it was wiped away quickly when Damian started listing off his breakfast needs like he was at a restaurant.

“-and with that you’ll pour the cream over. Oh and don’t forget the eggs. Not too crispy and not too soft.”

“You order Alfred around like that in the mornings?” Jason turned to his cabinets, pulling out a box of cereal that was probably two months too old. 

“I usually accept my breakfast in bed, and he already knows how I like everything.” He sat on one of the high-chairs, looking impossibly childish as his legs hung off too far from the ground.

“Oh, sorry your highness, but you’ll have to deal with cereal today.” They did this dance everytime he came over to visit.

As Damian ate, Jason started with washing the mug and spoon in his sink. This felt better. The younger boy was finally offering up full sentences one after the other and wouldn’t immediately look away when he tried to meet his eyes – even though he could tell he was still struggling.

But those bruises caught his eye again. Bile started to rise in his throat.

“Your neck-“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stopped eating for a moment before returning with more fervor. 

“So they aren’t ones from fighting?”

“Would that make them better? Acceptable?” Damian looked straight at his brother, piercing through him with his accusing stare. A challenge. 

“No, but I just wanna know if you’re safe, idiot.”

His gaze fell. He pushed his almost finished bowl of probably unsafe cereal away and stood.

“I want to leave now. The walk to my school from your house is longer than from the manor.”

After a long moment of Jason scrutinizing his every move, he sighed. “You can leave, but you’re not going to school today.”

His mouth snarled and his brow raised as he registered his words, “Excuse me?”

“If you think my questions about those marks are too personal, you’ll hate what the teachers are gonna ask.” He shrugged. 

He pondered for a moment before replying, “Maybe missing school is for the best, just today though.”

Jason put the mug and spoon onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on a dishcloth while he made his way to the front door. 

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to leave? Might as well take dog with us, she needs a walk anyways.” He held out a leash, offering it to Damian as Dog made her presence known with excited barks.

The skeptical look on Damian’s face as he walked over could have been framed. He questioned the idea of ‘us’ out-loud as he clipped the leash onto Dog’s collar.

Jason didn’t bother replying, opting to walk out the door, expecting the others to follow. The morning was still exceptionally dreary. The rain was even more misty than yesterday, but still annoying enough to warrant Jason bringing his umbrella from inside. 

The trio walked down the street without a word, with Dog being none the wiser as she sniffed at every passer-by. Jason waved to his neighbour as they passed his house, although the man just gave a blank expression and a nod in reply.

“What is wrong with him?” Damian asked as the blonde man quickly disappeared back into his house. 

“I know him from therapy, he’s ex-military or some shit. Got traumatized enough to be discharged early I guess.” He decided to leave out the part where his husband died in his arms from a gunshot to the head.

After a short while, both of them had fallen silent. Neither felt the need to fill the space between them with pointless chit-chat. That was until Damian piped up, “Your… therapy, does it actually work?”

“Most the time. Thinking of finally talking to someone?” Jason taunted him with a raised brow and smirk, wanting to get him back for this morning. 

“Definitely not. I can’t imagine anything worse than some stranger who only cares about their paycheck asking me about my life.”

“You know, it’s not always like that. Some therapists actually care. Sure, a lot of them only want the session over with so they can diagnose you and ask for the bill,” Jason sat on a park bench, expecting for the other to follow his lead, “but there are therapists that genuinely want to help people. And, you don’t have to be alone when you do it, by the way.”

Instead of replying immediately, Damian bent down to unclip Dog’s leash. She set off instantly in search of a nearby flock of pigeons with her tail pointed high and her nose to the ground. Damian chose to stay standing, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. It made Jason smile to himself.

“I don’t think the being alone is the issue to me.” He said it quietly, his gaze darting from one person to the next as they went about their business in the park. Even though most Gothamites were used to the near-constant downpour many still chose to stay indoors when the weather got like this. Autumn was Damian’s favourite season just for this – he could go just about anywhere and not be bothered by huge crowds or people willing to linger too long.  

“It helps, when you’re in a group. It hurts like hell and it gets embarrassing when you start crying in front of like, eight civilians and a doctor who just smiles the whole time-“

“That sounds awful.”

“But,” he says forcefully, immediately regretting it when Damian recoiled ever so slightly, “forcing yourself to be vulnerable around strangers actually gets you used to being human again. And when you realize those strangers are actually going through the same thing as you, they become way less scary.”

Gently, Jason placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Damian stiffened a little, but his expression remained blank as he kept staring off into the distance. 

The words sat on his tongue like acid, burning his throat from the inside out. He wanted to shake the boy and scream at him that it didn’t have to be like this. That he didn’t have to pretend to hide where those bruises came from. That he didn’t have to miss school like this. That he didn’t have to come running to his older brother’s house anymore. He wanted to scream the softest words he knew he’d never heard before. But he settled for letting his hand fall from his shoulder and placing it next to Damian’s clenched fist. Not an invitation, or a threat, just a reminder. 

They stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence. When they finally arrived back home, Jason noted that Damian seemed less dejected, but as if he was now just floating above his body. 

Jason took his place in the rocking chair Meemaw Vicky got him for knitting in. The whole thing had been her idea, she said knitting helps keep your hands and your mind off of other things – and god knew he needed that. The old, stolen, clock that sat on Jason’s, also stolen, shelf reminded him of something he had very much conveniently forgotten. 

Meemaw Vicky would be arriving in exactly ten minutes, maybe longer if she was late – Jason knew she wouldn’t be. His gaze turned to Damian who was sitting quietly on his couch, reading through one of the random books Jason kept on his shelves, next to that clock. Dog slept at his feet, her muffled snores indicating her tiredness after their walk. Damian’s glazed over eyes flew across the words, leaning back into the plush cushions as he flipped the pages. His nose crinkled every few sentences, trying to decipher whatever hidden message the author was trying to make him read between the lines for. He had two options, shove Damian out the house before Meemaw Vicky can get her hands on his chubby cheeks and then end up with a knife in her ribs, or lock him upstairs till she leaves. He decided on neither. 

“I have someone coming over soon.”

“Pennyworth?” he didn’t even look up as he answered him.

“For the last time, he probably knows where you are already and no I have not called him. A friend of mine is visiting.”

“You have friends?” that got an amused look from Damian. Friendly eye contact, progress.

That comment snapped his invisible patience though.

“Speak for yourself,” stop, “you’ve been at that school for what? Eight months?” what are you doing, “How many friends have you managed to make?” why am I saying this, “And how many of those kids actually know you past the fact that you’re a billionaires kid who can’t talk about his feelings?” God please just shut up.

Jason bit the inside of his cheek before he could continue fucking up. He tasted copper while he saw the emotions flit through Damian’s eyes. They were too short to recognize but he felt each one like a gut punch all the same. Damian just blinked and looked back down to his book, obviously not actually reading it. Progress erased. 

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

That feeling came back, the urge to grip him so tight and engrain what he was feeling into his bones. The feelings he couldn’t hope to find the words for. The apologies, the forgiveness, the reassurance, the anger. 

The ringing of the doorbell announcing Meemaw Vicky's arrival interrupted Jason thoughts.

Damian didn’t even pretend to be interested in getting up. He just kept looking at the book.

Dog got up and happily trotted over to greet her through the door. Jason sighed as he walked over to open the door, giving her cheeks a kiss each as to say hello.

“Oh Jason, I finally managed to grow those orchids we talked about! They were tough but they bloomed just this morning! I brought a few cuttings for you to keep around the house.” Her smile                     seemed to cleanse the soul, letting you know just how good her intentions always where. Not a bad bone resided in this woman’s body – maybe that’s why Jason loved having her over. He felt as if the goodness overflowing from her every word would stain him and his house so that nothing of his past would remain. And he also just enjoyed the company every once in a while.

Jason failed to notice just how quickly the elderly woman could still move. She had already gotten all the way to his living room while he was thinking, leaving the plastic bags surely filled with flower cuttings on his kitchen counter. He had to move.

But when he walked the distance and talked himself out of revisiting the locking Damian upstairs idea, all he found was Meemaw Vicky leaning dangerously close over Damian’s shoulder, asking him a list of questions about himself. 

She stood up and looked to Jason, shoving an accusatory finger in his space. “You never told me you had a little brother! I expected better from you, Jason Todd.”

Damian scoffed at that. Jason just rolled his eyes and mumbled an apology.

Meemaw Vicky sat a respectable distance on the couch from the boy, giving him ample space. She had calmed down considerably, but still asked Damian questions he answered through gritted teeth. 

“How old are you?”

“13.”

“Oh, same age as my granddaughter! You’d love her. I think I should bring her over one day to meet you.”

“Please don’t.”

“So what are you learning about in school? Ooh, what book have you got there? I need to catch up on my reading.”

“I- I am on a normal curriculum and I’m reading, uh, Pride and Prejudice.”

“I see,” she sat back for a moment, studying him, “you know that’s your brother’s favourite book.”

“…Really?”

Meanwhile, content that he wasn’t going to stab her, Jason had left the two alone to make some tea. While waiting for the kettle to boil, he decided to actually check his phone for the first time since last night. The usual app notifications were quickly deleted, with a few kept – if he doesn’t keep the instagram notifications he will never remember to watch all the reels Dick sends him, and then he’ll never hear the end of it. His finger stopped in it’s motion across the phone when it lit up with a call screen. The caller ID seemed to seep into Jason’s psyche and grip his lungs. 

‘Bruce Wayne’ in plain, black text in front of the white background laughed at him. It was taunting him. 

He declined the call. And the next one. And the next three. 

He only picked up the last call because this time it came from Alfred, and he was too scared to decline a call from that man.

“What’s up?”

“Master Jason, I assume Master Damian is with you?”

“Why?”

“He didn’t come home from school yesterday. He’d only ever stay the night at your or Master Dick’s house.”

“And how do you not know he’s not at Dick’s place?”

“Because he at least answers Bruce’s phone calls the first time. Master Dick has not seen Master Damian.”

Damn that man and his phone addiction, and his undying loyalty to their adoptive father.

“Listen, he’s here but I can tell he doesn’t wanna go home. Not yet.”

“That is not what I’m concerned with, what I don’t like is him getting to skip school. You know how important an education is to give that boy some semblance of a normal life.” Although Alfred’s words were curt and pinched, Jason felt the genuine care that lay beneath them. Alfred loved Damian just as much as any of them. 

“I… I know. But Alfred, did you see his neck? People would ask questions. And you know he hates that.” He spoke in a hushed voice, careful to not let Damian hear.

The silence that came from the other end of the call was filled with the kettles high-pitched whine. Quickly turning the stove off, Jason wracked his brain for what to say to Alfred about any of this. 

But, it was Alfred that spoke as Jason poured the cups of tea while holding the phone to his ear.

“I was not made aware of any injuries. How bad are they?”

“God, Alfred I- shit,” he winced as he spilled some boiling water on his hand, “I don’t know. He won’t even let me see but there are nasty bruises all over his neck. And I can tell they go further. He must’ve had a pretty bad fight, did something happen?”

“Master Damian has not been on patrol for a few days though, he has been on a strict sleeping schedule due to an upcoming school project.”

“… what?” Suddenly, those calls from Bruce started making sense.

It was hours later, Meemaw had left long ago and Jason disappeared into his room. When he descended the stairs, clad in his vigilante costume, he found Damian still sitting cross-legged in the living room. He was actually properly reading the book and Jason almost didn’t have the heart to interrupt him. 

“Did you bring your suit?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Get dressed. Meet me on the roof.” He knew he didn’t have to explain how to get up there, he'd find his way fine. 

By the time Damian finally joined Jason on the roof, Jason stood with his hands on his hips looking like an impatient mother. “Follow.” Was all the instruction Jason gave before he darted off in the direction of the next rooftop. 

When they stopped a few minutes later, Jason looked over to Damian, “Tired yet, kid?”

Damian shook his head, a neutral expression staining his face.

This continued for city block after city block. Mile after mile, they ran. Every few stops, Jason would look to Damian with a grin– a challenge of his own. And Damian would accept it every time.

Only when both of them were drenched in sweat and panting for breath did Jason finally speak again. 

“Tired?”

Damian stood hunched over, with his hands on his knees. Oxygen flooded his lungs as he breathed and sweat dripped off of his face. He didn’t even try and respond.

Jason just chuckled, huffing before setting off in a run again.

Only about five rooftops later did he think to look back. He didn’t think he would find Damian right behind him – on all-fours, his chest heaving. 

Jason silently came towards him, sitting on his haunches and placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice was gentler this time, “Tired?”

Damian’s eyes were screwed shut. Tears of exhaustion burned him. The stench of sweat invaded his nostrils. Every part of his suit clung to him in all the wrong ways. He wanted to tear every offending piece off of him. He wanted to scream but the exertion had stolen too much out of him.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Damian’s shoulder as he spoke, “Hey, it’s gonna be ok. You did good.”

No. No he didn’t. He had failed. He’d lost the challenge. He couldn’t have hoped to keep up if they had continued. He-

“Hey. Look at me.”

Slowly, Damian’s eyes opened. His ribs burned with embarrassment as his gaze lifted. 

“I’m sor-“ Damian tried.

“Stop.” His voice wasn’t too rough this time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d been trained better than that. And yet Damian still winced. 

“Look at how far we came. How far you came.” He nodded his head to the horizon behind them, and Damian followed his guide to glance back.

He couldn’t even see Jason’s house anymore. He could only see an unfamiliar landscape dotted with buildings and rooftops. They had gone so far he couldn’t even recognize where in Gotham they were. 

“Where are we?”

“One of the newer suburbs, Bruce hasn’t mapped this part of the city yet. That’s why I love coming here.” He stood, moving to the edge of the roof.

“Why did you bring me here, Jason?” the way he said his name made his heart hurt.

“Because,” he grunted as he swung his legs over the edge and took a seat, “I wanted to remind you that you’re human. You can’t do everything. You can fall over because you’re exhausted. You can fail.”

Tears pricked at his eyes for a different reason now. His limbs screeched at him as he stood.

“I am aware that I am only human. I am reminded of that every single day.”

“Yeah, but did anyone ever teach you that that’s a good thing? That it is allowed?”

Damian reluctantly sat next his brother. It was late by now, the final streaks of dusk laying in the sky.

“I can hardly see how constantly being told that you are human is a good thing.”

“Told?”

Damian’s breath hitched.

Jason smirked, “There it is.”

The younger boy’s shoulders dropped. 

“So, who is it? Who do I need bury?”

He refused to answer.

“Damian if someone is hurting you, you are allowed to defend yourself. You don’t need to keep up this civilian charade when it comes to-“

“I know that. My civilian persona doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Jason quirked his brow at this. A deep orange glow disappeared over the buildings and the final stars began to show. The theory Jason feared the most was rearing it’s ugly head.

“It was Bruce wasn’t it.” It was less of a question, but he was getting tired of beating around the bush. 

As the navy sky blanketed the city and snuffed out any of the golden sunset, Damian finally allowed himself to let go. Jason didn’t need to look over to see the tears flowing down his brother’s face, he knew. How ever silent Damian thought he was being or had been last night in Jason’s room, he knew. He also knew the pain. The pain of acceptance that came with acknowledging what had happened, and who did it to you. 

“I wasn’t fast enough. I deserved it.” Jason just let him talk, “We were training, and I- I failed. I could’ve been faster, stronger – I could have…”

It took a few more moments before he continued, “I got too tired. He caught me too many times. I-“

His voice broke when Jason pulled him towards his chest. He wrapped his arms around the too-young boy. Damian let his heart sink. He let his exhausted mind melt. He let himself be human for a second. 

#batfam #batfamily #jason todd #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batman #batfam fic #batfam angst #batman mentioned!! #Simon riley cameo

[asking-jude]

My husband has been taking my tampons some gloves using socks screwdrivers wrenches pre roll containers tons of objects even our kids toys for his bum. And this has been a big issue as he is using things not normal some super big large creepy big even one shelf we have the poles are thick. Because I am upset about the porn masturbation how he calls me names puts me down he says he punishes himself that way but he seems to enjoy is and it won’t stop I don’t know what to do about the lies or threats to punch me or tell me to end my life or he hopes I get cancer or the fact he buys illegal substances then lied said he gave it away then had two bags of the stuff white powder coke. So like how do you deal with someone who lies, hides things, steals their own wives panties,likes literally steals them and hides them. Like he thinks I’m dumb. He even broke gear shift on car to use for his bum. Then I got punched when I tried to throw it away. He is now facing a fb for that but we have a kid he won’t let me leave with her. I have been pushed into walls thrown to the ground been in choke holds I am just not sure what to do anymore he also has a whole cabinent full of at least 200 alcohol bottles and we have only lived in our home three years so that’s excessive drinking. He won’t let me take my baby and stay elsewhere which would be safer for us both I feel stuck here. He wileighs 175 me 104 lost weight because of stress even my doctor said I am underweight. I used to be 120-125-130 healthier. His drug use and drinking and lying and doing weird crazy things is out of control he even took two of my prepaid cards and ripped chip out burned them and threw away the papers for them he took from my pockets and then to work and did that then took some of my shredded paper in the shredder to work and pooped in it and in jail he pooped on the walls. This man has major issues and is also abusive I feel like no one has dealt with someone to this extreme so what do I do how do I deal with this because I kept hoping he would change 4years later here we are and he is still doing odd weird disgusting things and keeps stealing from me and he also has thrown phones of mine and broke my laptop and the screen was not cheap to fix also broke our tv now our kid has nothing to watch except color and rub around the house and her few toys he hasn’t broke like he has broken his own daughters toys a chair and desk I got new at a store he broke within a week this is getting nuts. Then raised a fist at me though I have no proof of that and then he took my phone and deleted half the voice recording I have for proof. I am more concerned about my baby not being along with him I could leave but he won’t let me leave with my baby. She is 3. Any advice would be helpful thanks

Do you want free, fast mental health help? Visit askingjude.org.

Hey love,

Thank you for reaching out to Asking Jude. I am sorry that you are going through this difficult situation.

I would first recommend contacting the National Domestic Violence Hotline at this link: https://www.thehotline.org/plan-for-safety/. This organization can remove you and your baby from the household, and they can help you find housing once you have moved out. I would also recommend calling the police if you ever suspect your husband is going to be violent towards you or your baby; contacting the authorities is the best option for situations involving prolonged and violent domestic abuse.

You mentioned that his behavior has been consistent over the past few years, and that he is refusing to change. You should never feel trapped or obligated to endure such a horrific situation. Please understand that you are not alone, and that there are resources available to you. I have linked a website that contains some information about domestic violence support groups: https://www.alexandrahouse.org/support-groups/.

Speaking with other people who have endured similar situations could be healing. These kinds of groups provide a sense of community that could help you cope with the emotional trauma you’ve experienced.

I also wanted to provide a link for finding therapists near you: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/therapists. Talking with a mental health professional is an effective way to process your stress and anxiety, and they can provide coping strategies to help you work through your emotional trauma.

Please be safe and remember to always prioritize your mental health. Please do not hesitate to reach out to Asking Jude again if you have any further concerns. Reaching out in the first place took courage, and we will always be here for you. You also may consider reaching out to close family or friends for help. Having a strong support system while dealing with emotionally challenging situations like this is vital to the safety of you and your child.

You will get through this.

Stay strong,

Jordan

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What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki- pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of suicidal thoughts, fluff, insane behavior, nsfw, noncon! Dubcon!, murder, stalking, abusive behavior, yandere!Bakugou, cursing, blood, lowkey kinda slow burn (meaning the beginning is a little boring BUT IT GETS GOOD I SWEAR😭)

Ep. Warnings: Angst, hitting, cursing, stalking, kidnapping, murder

Summary: It’s been awhile since you’ve left him. Two months actually but it was two months too long. Katsuki was slowly going insane and I guess you could say he officially has because he’s officially snapped. You become his main target, his number one priority, his entire being even though you’re trying to leave him. But Katsuki won’t let you. You’re his..and in the words of Bakugou Katsuki..you always will be.

A/N: ....I made it a yandere story y’all. OH SHI-

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Chapter 1

Twitch, twitch, twitch. That’s all Katsuki’s body been doing. Either his eyes or his fingers, his body is uncomfortably moving. Shit doesn’t feel right for him. And he knows exactly why. You left him.

The first week was horrible. All Katsuki did was cry. He even kept his destroyed home in shambles because he couldn’t find the motivation to do anything. If it wasn’t for Kirishima, Katsuki would have starved himself to death. The second week was just as bad. Nothing but a crying baby being taken care of by his best friend.

The third week is when Katsuki become a drunkard. He made Kirishima and the boys of the Bakusquad constantly take him out whenever. As long as the place served alcohol, he would go. He would go and drink himself to sleep. While he was intoxicated he would cry about how he misses you and how he was a terrible husband. He always said you deserved better but he was too in love with you to let you go. The 4th week was pretty much the same.

After a whole month without you, Katsuki threw himself into depression. For the entirety of the second month, he locked himself within the walls of his home. Thankfully, it was now considered a home environment once again after his dear friends cleaned the place up for him. Katsuki stayed inside all day, drank his soul away every night, and sobbed constantly. Constantly regretting how he neglected you, how he mistreated you, and how he hurt you. He doesn’t even know how he even brought himself to do that. Even though he’s been alone for almost 2 months, he still had hope that you would come back. That things would go back to normal and he would be a better husband to you, just like he promised.

Katsuki felt himself going mad and slipping away, but what pulled the trigger was what Kirishima brought to him on the 6th week.

—

Flashback

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?”

Katsuki looked down at the papers in his hands. Kirishima had walked in with a nervous and sad look on his face when he gave Katsuki the papers you had the red head deliver. “Sorry man...”

Katsuki shook as he stared at the divorce papers with wide eyes. He saw you already signed it and all the paper needed was his signature. His face grew dark as something in his mind snapped. Katsuki turned to his friend and instructed him to get out of his home.

“What? Man are you alright?” Kirishima said. He walked to his best friend and when he reached a hand out for him, Katsuki pulled on his arm and pushed him out the door. He slammed it shut and locked it as he looked at the papers.

A scary smile grew on the man’s face. His eyes grew crazy as he laughed maniacally. Hysterically. As if what he held was the most hilarious thing in the world. His palms began to spark as he used his quirk to destroyed the papers. The quick blast made his hair floof around a bit and when it was over, a pile of ashes lay at his feet.

“She-....she thinks she can leave me?” Bakugou began to walk to the framed picture on the coffee table. He picked up the picture of you both on your last anniversary and ran his finger over the image of you. “Poor Princess....you can’t leave me. You need me. Just as much as I need you. I mean..hehe...look at what I mess I’ve been. I can only assume you must be worse. But it’s okay, love...I’ll find you soon enough..and I’ll help you feel better,” he walked to his bedroom and layed down on the soft mattress as he held the frame close to his chest as he stared sinisterly at the ceiling, “and we’ll never be apart again.”

—

The 7th week was when it began. Katsuki took some time off of work. He was gonna be too busy for hero work. He had something much more important to do. He had to bring you home.

Katsuki spent the 7th week looking for information on you. He was up 24/7 reading all he can, talking to as many people as he can, and doing all the digging he could until he found you. Unfortunately for him but luckily for you, he found nothing. It pissed him off. How could you have completely erased your existence? Did you just go into hiding or was he not searching hard enough.

This time, the luck switched. Katsuki was just walking to the store when he looked to the far side and saw you in a cab. He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t mistaken but after a good glance and taking a picture for confirmation, he knew it was you. His body almost betrayed him as he almost went in to run after you but luckily his brain stopped him. He had to think. Katsuki hid in an alleyway nearby as he watched you from the side. When the driver continued down the road, that’s when he began to follow you. He used his hero training and quirk to keep up with the car. He followed you for miles until the cab finally stopped at some hotel. He watched you walk in and decided this was far enough.

He knew where you were now. He could wait a little longer before snatching you up. If he did it now in broad daylight, chaos would break out. He had to wait for the perfect moment to get you back. He was okay with waiting. He knew where you’ve been staying, how to get there, and knew what time you got back from wherever that cab picked you up. And then it hit him. The cab.

Katsuki went back to look at the picture he took of you in the cab and checked the license plate. With this information, he went home to find where the vehicle was.

Katsuki busted the door open to his home and ran straight to his in-home office. He went to log onto his work laptop that he used for hero work. The laptop contained the tools and websites that would allow him to find the cab. He finally reached the site he was looking for and went back to the picture. There, he typed in the license plate number.

“よ 57-342” he whispered aloud. Finally, he located the vehicle and went to find it. Katsuki followed the location until he found the house where the driver stayed. He waited in hiding, hoping someone would come out and hoped that the someone would be the driver. He waited and waited until finally, after almost 2 hours of waiting, a man came out. Katsuki quickly pulled up the picture and made sure it was the same person who was driving you, and to his luck, it was.

He quickly ran to the driver before he could get into the cab and pulled him into a dark corner. He slammed the man up against the wall and pulled up a picture of you. “Listen! You dropped this girl off at a hotel, I need to know where you picked her up! Tell me! Now!”

“W-whoa!” The driver exclaimed as he took notice of Katsuki’s identity. “Y-you’re Dynamight!”

Katsuki sucked his teeth at the fact that this guy knew who he was but then again, he wasn’t surprised. He was the number 2 hero after all. “Yeah! I am! Now tell me where you picked up my wife you dog-faced loser!” He screamed.

“Y-you’re wife??” The man looked at the picture and recognized you and the name you gave him. “Oh! M-Miss Y/N! Yes! Uh-..uh- I- she- I- ..I picked her up from a gym!” The man exclaimed.

“What gym?! Tell me!!!” Bakugou shouted at the man.

“I-I’m sorry! I don’t know if I can! She- she said she got divorced so how can I trust you’re her husband?!” The man shouted in fear.

“Are you calling me a liar?! I’m a fucking pro-hero! Why would I pull some bullshit like that! Tell me where my wife was! What?! Gym?!” Bakugou screamed once more. In fear, the man gave Katsuki the information he needed.

“Hosu Gym!” The man shook and Bakugou stared for a minute to scare the poor guy before dropping him to the ground. As he walked away, the man spoke up once more. “D-Dynamight, sir. I-If miss Y/N doesn’t want to see you..and you’re forcing information out of people..I’ll have to tell the authorities..sir.”

“You’re not gonna do a damn thing. You hear me?!” The pro screamed. Bakugou side eyed the man as he watched the driver get up from the ground.

“Sir. From the small conversation we had in the car, Miss Y/N said she was divorced-“

“We aren’t divorced!!” Bakugou said as he made a random explosion to intimidate the man. “We are still together, and she is still my wife, and none of this is any of your business!” Bakugou began to walk away but heard the driver grumble something under his breath that triggered something in his brain.

“I can see why she left a crazed man like you...” the driver mumbled. Katsuki quickly snapped his body to face the man and jumped on him. His burning hand found it’s way around the man’s neck and began to squeeze.

“The hell did you say?! You’re gonna wish you never said that you fucking fool, cuz now those are gonna be your last words!” Bakugou said before he activated an explosion and killed the man. Katsuki took deep breaths before realizing what he did and for some reason, he felt no remorse. And he knows why.

“That idiot should’ve known better than to talk about me and Y/N like that...s’his own fault he died.” Bakugou said before walking away from the gruesome scene. He acted like nothing happened as he made his way to Hosu Gym. He just needed to know what time your got there and when. Then, he could finally go home before continuing his plan for the next day.

—

The blonde decided to wait for some time before he went into the building. It was getting dark and so the gym would be closing soon. He waited and waited until finally, the place was empty. Empty except for the man who worked at the front desk.

Katsuki slipped in right before closing and hid himself in the locker room. He waited 10 minutes before going out and finding the one employee he saw. After exploring the area, Katsuki found the man sitting on a bench. He snuck up behind him, and pounced. He covered the man’s mouth as he tugged him into the back room. Once inside, The blonde threw the man in and locked the door to prevent anyone getting in or out.

“W-What is going on? D-Dynamight, what is happening?” The employee asked in fear. He assumed a threat was going on or some trouble was taking place outside of the gym. He had no idea the trouble was standing right in front of him.

“I need you to tell me when this lady came in.” Bakugou said and pulled up a picture of you. The man looked at the picture and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize-“

“YOU WILL! This woman came in here today and I need to know what time! TELL ME!” Bakugou screamed as he lit sparks in his palm. The man shook in fear at the hero’s booming voice and began to look harder. After a minute, he finally spoke.

“I- I remember. She came in hours ago! Sometime around 12 to 2!” The man said in hopes the yelling would stop. It didn’t.

“ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! There’s a huge space in between! I need to know exactly what time she came in! Don’t you morons have a sign in?!” Bakugou screamed.

“We do! We do sir!” The man nodded his head in fear. Bakugou huffed before walking over to him and dragging him by his collar to seat him on the chair in front of the computer.

“Then get into your data base and FIND MY WIFE!” The blonde screamed. The worker nodded frantically before getting right into it. Bakugou watched his every move and the computer. He kept a sparkling hand right next to the man’s head to keep him intimidated as he worked. Eventually, Bakugou saw your profile picture on the screen when the man scrolled down. “Stop. Her. Check what time she came in.”

The man read the drafts and spoke. “1:30 p.m.”

Bakugou nodded before walking to the door and unlocking it. He turned to the trembling man and gave a quick warning with a sinister smile. “If I ever find out that you told anybody, even your own damn friends or family, about what happened tonight, I won’t hesitate to come back and kill you. Am I clear?”

The man gave a quick and jittery “y-yes sir!” As he watched the pro-hero leave the room. Once Bakugou was gone, the man let out a breath of relief and allowed the few tears he was holding back to fall. Bakugou Katsuki definitely struck fear into those of the lives he met.

With this simple information, Bakugou smirked as he walked out the gym doors. He knows where you live, what gym you go to, what day you go, and what time you arrive. You were always a very punctual person. You had a schedule and you followed it through and through. He completely trusted the fact that when he came back here next week, he would be sure to see you. All he had to do now was wait 7 days.

—

7 days have passed and Katsuki was waiting for your presence in the gym. After finding out you arrived at 1:30, he showed up almost an hour earlier at 12 just in case. He waited and waited for you to show. He was almost out of patience, but after seeing that it was only 1:00, he settled the slightest bit. It wasn’t until he took notice of a familiar figure at the desk.

The man Katsuki had threaten nights ago was shivering and shaking in his boots as he greeted people at the door. He was aware that the pro hero was in the building and after the incident of what went down that night, he was definitely scared for his life. Bakugou began to walk to the man and said man could feel a scary aura coming around. When he turned, he was greeted with the sight of a smirking Katsuki.

“Hey friend,” Bakugou said with his hands in his pockets.

The man jumped at the sound of his voice and his scary presence made his eyes teary. “H-Hello Dynamight.”

“Thought I’d just come by to warn you again. When Y/N walks through those doors, don’t you fucking dare try telling her about me or my presence here. Got that.....” Katsuki said looking down at the man’s name tag. “Hiro Itadori? ‘Cuz if you do, your body goes boom. Understand?”

“Y-Yes Sir!” Hiro said as he looked to the ground with wide eyes as he felt himself break into a cold sweat. Bakugou patted the man’s back, causing him to flinch but when the hero walked away right after, Hiro calmed down. Unfortunately, that only lasted for about a second before you walked in.

“Hello Hiro!” You joyfully said. Your voice reached the ears of your ex-husband. Or more so, your “supposed to be” ex-husband. His ears perked up and he smirked as he hid behind a corner wall, taking the view of you in.

“Y/N.” He whispered to himself. He smiled and a blush bloomed on his porcelain skin as he admired you from afar. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. If anything, your looks seemed to have only gotten better. He watched as the man nervously greeted you and allowed you to go through with your workout. Katsuki smirked as he knew the man gave no hint at him being there, and so he would be able to watch you in peace.

Katsuki wasn’t there to keep tabs on your workout and what exercises you did. He was there just to watch you. Of course, while doing so, he admired you, but he was there to gain selfish intel. He watched you from start to end. Once you finished he followed you to your next location. It was still early and so it was safe to assume you weren’t heading to bed yet. He followed you back to your hotel and waited in another area until you walked out again. Sure enough, you did.

For the rest of the day, Bakugou followed and stalked your every move. He watched where you work, where you spent your free time, he followed you to the new cafe you seemed to enjoy, and then he followed you back to your hotel. Instead of waiting in another area and watching from afar, Bakugou climbed the side of the building and watched you from your hotel balcony through the glass door. He payed attention to your every move and noted what time you went to bed. Satisfied with the day’s revelations, he went back to his own home.

Knowing this information, Katsuki was able to sleep a little more peacefully. For the next few weeks, Katsuki followed this procedure. He became a full time stalker, even going so far as to call out of work for some time to put his full attention in you. He watched you like a hawk. He took note of everywhere you went, where you ate, who you spoke to, and what you did. All of it became engraved into his brain.

Now, Katsuki stood at your balcony for the umpteenth time as he stared at your sleeping form. It was deep into the night and with the moonlight on his back, he found enough courage and craze to open the door. He walked in quietly and shut the door, blocking the chilly air from seeping in to awaken your unconscious state. He approached your bed and crouched down to meet your face.

“Still as perfect as ever,” he whispered as he removed a few strands of hair out of your face. His touch didn’t seem to startle you and Katsuki took it as your body naturally indulging in his familiar touch. He blushed at the feeling of your oh so soft skin as his fingertips grazed your pillowy cheeks. His hand finally cupped the side of your face as his thumb drew circles along your skin. Your head unconsciously nuzzled into his warmth like it used to and Katsuki couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t worry Teddy Bear...I’ll bring you home soon.”

With that, Katsuki leaned down and softly placed a kiss on your lips. This was the lightest kiss he ever bestowed upon you. The pressure and weight was similar to a feather and the blonde struggled to restrain himself once he came in contact. He craved more but his mind knew better. Reluctantly, he pulled away and removed his hand from your face. He walked away, back to the balcony to take his leave but not before turning to look back at you. “Real soon.”

—

You woke up to a sense of familiarity in your room. Although you were alone, you could’ve sworn there was this chilling presence. It was faint but it was there. Taking in a breath and looking around at your surroundings, you reluctantly got out of bed and got ready for the day.

You did the usual. Got ready, got dressed, had breakfast, and went about your day. You went to the market to picked up a few things and ended up staying much longer than you liked. You walked in during daylight and came out when the sun was setting. You sighed in disappointment.

“Guess I can skip the gym this one time. I might as well get back home, read a book or two..” you went on talking to yourself about your schedule. You walked with the groceries in hand as you enjoyed the scenery on your way back, however, even with the shining sun creating it’s golden hour with a beautiful purple sky, you couldn’t help but feel wary of the stillness in the wind.

—

‘Where the fuck is she?!’ Bakugou thought to himself. He waited at the gym all damn day. He waited and waited to see your beautiful face but you never showed. If he had known that you would’ve skipped out on the gym today he wouldn’t have came here and wasted his time. Today was supposed to be the day. The day you came home.

Shaking off his negative thoughts, Bakugou continued with his backup plan. Although it would hurt his soul to bring harm to his precious princess, he reminded himself that he was doing this for her. He’s been so broken for the past months, he could only imagine how destroyed you must be. Hurting you was his way of helping you.

And so, Bakugou made his way to your hotel, where he found himself standing infront of your glass door at your balcony. To his dismay, you weren’t there. He released a huff before climbing down and once again, began to wait. He waited and waited in hiding, constantly on the lookout for you. It’s hard to find you in the city when you don’t follow your daily schedule, but knowing where you currently resided to get your rest made his job much easier.

Finally, after some time, he heard the familiar and comforting sound of your humming voice as you sang a little song to yourself. Bakugou took the sight of you in and blushed at your beauty from afar. He allowed himself to soak in the sound of your pretty voice before making his move. “Sorry Princess.”

—

You finally made it to the hotel. After your long stroll, you couldn’t wait to get some rest. Except, the closer you got, the more tense you became. You could feel the suspenseful aura in the air and your pace soon slowed down. Eventually, you came to a stop as your nerves got the best of you.

“Hello?” You said in the wind. You looked around and saw nothing but the pitch black night illuminated by the street lights and stars.

“Is someone there?” You asked again, turning your head another direction. Nothing but leaves in the wind. You released a sigh and continued your walk but became startled due to the sound of squirrels fighting in the trees.

“Ah!” You screamed and dropped your bag. After taking notice of the two animals going at it, you chuckled to yourself and turned to pick up your bag, unfortunately being startled once again at the sight of shoes in front of you. “AH!”

You jumped back in fear and took a fighting stance before you settled and relax at the sight of your supposed ex-husband. “Bakugou..it’s just you.”

“Mm, nope.” Bakugou said as he bent down to pick up your bag and hand it to you. “It’s Katsuki.”

His words sent your eyes rolling as you took your bag back with a hesistant hand. Something seemed..off.

“Not anymore. Thanks for the help. Bye.” You attempted to walk on to your hotel entrance but his arm stopped you.

“What? That’s it? Thanks? Bye?” Bakugou asked while gently pushing your body back in front of him. “We should talk, Y/N.”

“There’s nothing to talk abou-“

“There is.” Bakugou said with a firm voice, grabbing your full attention. Seeing your doe eyes look at him with caution caused him to settle. Bakugou sighed through his nose and allowed his hands to rest on your waist. “I miss you, Y/N. I want you to come back home.”

You shook your head at the idea and scrunched your eyes as you tried to step out of his hold. “Bakugou..”

“Hear me out, okay? It won’t be like last time, Teddy Bear-“

“You don’t know that-“

“I do. Because I’m going to try harder for you and I’m going to hold onto you and I’m not gonna ruin us for a second time. I still love you Y/N. I always have and I always will.” Bakugou sweetly said. You looked at him with the same eyes of caution before you placed your hands over his, giving him a sign of hope.

“I’m sorry, Bakugou,” you said, pulling his hands off of your waist. “I sent divorce papers. I don’t want to be with you anymore. I don’t love you anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Bakugou said with full confidence. Although you pulled his hands away from your waist, you still allowed him to keep a hold on your own hands.

“...I should.” You said looking down. With each word of denial, Bakugou took a step closer, invading your personal space. “You should get going-“

“No, Y/N-“

“Bakugou-“

“Baby. I know you still want me. I know you still love me and I know you’re excited that I’m back. I love you...and you love me. So just admit it.” He said, inches away from your face. You stared in his eyes with a look of longing...and a hint of love. He was right. You did still love him. But after the neglect and harm he’s brought you, you didn’t know if you did want to go back. You didn’t know.

Sensing your hesistation, Bakugou slowly moved in to close the gap between you two. His hands let go off yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist. His face inched closer to yours and when you didn’t stop him, he continued. Finally, he gently placed his lips upon your own and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel something again. His kisses always brought a comforting feeling of butterflies in your stomach and after a second of feeling his warm lips, you kissed him back. Your hands found way around his neck as you pulled him in deeper and you could feel Bakugou smile into the kiss. It was hot and passionate. You were out in the open but for a moment it felt like no one else in the world existed. You would’ve gotten lost in the kiss had it not been for you remembering the situation you were in with the man.

Reluctantly, you gently pushed Bakugou off of you, but he still managed to press his forehead to your own. “Katsuki...you should go home.”

“Not without you.” He softly said. You shook your head as you completely pushed him off of you and gathered your things.

“Please...just go.” You said and began to walk away but Bakugou held onto your arm to stop you from moving any further.

“I’m not leaving without you, Y/N. Come home.” He stated.

“Bakugou! Just leave!” You shouted as you turned to him. When you faced the blonde man, you were shocked to see a crazed smile decorating his face.

“Too bad. I’m not asking Y/N. I’m telling. You’re coming home with me. Tonight.” He said and you scoffed at him with slight fear.

“You’re crazy!” You said and tried to shake his hold off of you, but of course failed.

“About you? Yes.” He said as he pulled you in closer. You squirmed against his hold until he pressed you in his chest and kept you in his grasp. You continued to fight against him but he grabbed your face with one hand to force you to stop and look at him.

“Let me go!”

“Listen! You either come home with me the easy way..or my way.” He warned. You looked at him with fear laced all around your face as you watched his insane side surface. You began to squirm again and fight once more.

“I’m not going!” You spat. Bakugou just released a simple laugh before caressing the side of your face.

“Yes. You are.” With that, the gentle hand on the side of your face formed into a first as he swung and knocked you out. You dropped unconscious in his hold and Bakugou was quick to carry you princess style and walk away, abandoning your groceries on the sidewalk.

“Shoulda listened. Cant believe you forced me to hurt you like that, baby.” Bakugou spoke to your unconscious state as he walked back home through dead city streets. “Don’t worry though, I’ll take care of you once we make it back. And then, we’ll never be apart again. I promise.”

—

You awoke to chains being locked on your wrist that were tied against a headboard. You layed on a large mattress in a dark room with a dim light. As you looked around, you recognized the familiar place. The place you used to make love for hours with your ex-husband. The place where movie dates and cuddle sessions were a must. The place you locked yourself in before leaving your last relationship. Katsuki’s bedroom.

You tried to jump out of bed but the restraints pulled you back down. You tried to scream and only muffled sounds could be heard. Katsuki taped your mouth shut. You tried using your quirk but it didn’t work. You looked to your restraints and saw the cuffs he used to hold you were quirk restraining cuffs. With nothing else to do, you tossed and turned in the bed as you allowed the muffled sounds to be as loud as they could. Eventually, the ruckus you were making brought the attention of your captor. Katsuki Bakugou.

Hearing all the noise, Bakugou busted opened the door to be met with your frustrated and teary eyes. You glared at him as he smirked at your locked up state. He took the opportunity to walk up to you and caress your face.

“I’m so sorry I had to hit you baby,” he said leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “But you left me with no choice. All you had to do was come home on your own free will and I wouldn’t have had to do all that.”

You began to tremble with anger and fear as you stared up at the man. Your teary eyes challenged his insane rubies as he sat on the side of the bed.

“How does it feel to be back? Hm?” He asked, ripping off the tape. You groaned at the pain and grew sick as you saw Bakugou pervertedly lick his lips at the sound. You leaned back and huffed with heavy breath before answering him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Let me go!” You screamed. He only looked at you in confusion as another sinister smile took place on his lips.

“Why would I do that, Teddy Bear?” He asked, allowing his thumb to create sweet and soft circles on your cheek.

“I don’t want you anymore Katsuki! I don’t want to be with you!” Bakugou merely raised a brow at your words and continued to listen. “You burned me-“

*SMACK*

You looked at the man in front of you with fear and shock written on your face. Your cheek stung as your face now turned to the side but Bakugou quickly changed that by taking you by your chin to make you face him and wrapped a hand around your neck, chocking you. You gasped for air as Bakugou’s smirk became replaced with a frown and his brows became pointed.

“How dare you?! You’re asking what’s wrong with me but what the hell is wrong with you?! You left me, for months, Y/N. I was heartbroken. I was basically dead with you gone. I did you a fucking favor bringing you back. If I was so fucked, I can only imagine how horrible you must’ve been feeling. You’re lucky I came and save you. Saved us. And now, we can be happy again.” He explained.

“K-...Katsuki-..p-please!” You forced out, trying to beg for air.

“SHUT UP! I saved you, Y/N. So don’t even try to mention the little accident that happened so long ago, baby. Now you can forgive me. And don’t worry..I’m ready to listen to all the apologies you surely have for me...even if I have to choke them out of you.” He seethed with his hand tightening. Your eyes began to pop as the blood flow began to fill your face. Your eyes turned red as you struggled for air.

“I-...I-I’m..K-Katsuki! ...I’m sorry!” You shouted as best as you could. Luckily for you, the second you did, Bakugou’s hand lost its grip and simply rested on your neck. You choked and coughed as you relished in the sweet taste of oxygen. He smiled and leaned down to give your lips a sweet peck to shut you up and tapped your cheek before he walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned around to look at you and give you your official welcome back.

“I’m glad you’re home, baby. Can’t believe you really tried leaving. You’re mine, Y/N. And you always will be....don’t forget it.”

He slammed the door shut, walking away from the room with a smile. And you?

You cried.

A/N: Back by popular demand, we have part 2 to “What Have I Done.” How was it? In my opinion the beginning SUCKED! But I promise it’ll get better! The story will focus on Y/N and Bakugou’s new lives now so stay tuned and I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Tag list: @captainchrisstan @jazzylove @bakugous-trauma @konohahoee @whatdidshesayyy @chibiiichann @lover-of-helios @unicornlover25 @tamakisropebunny @iliketobullydeku @peacchfuz @fairybnha3 @ebiharachan @levimeko @5sos-wdw @naluciosa @anime-weeb-bnha @bakucumsackslut @asteria-obey-me

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader angst #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki angst #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugo angst #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #my hero academia bakugou #my hero academia #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #boku no hero bakugou #mha angst #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #mha #bnha #bakugou x y/n #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader

[doppopoppo]

Bundle of Feelings

|| Uramichi Daily Headcanon ||

|| Warnings: married, minor cussing, angst, argument ||

|| Uramichi • F!Reader || 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💙

Silence.

Everything was silent. 

The only thing that could be heard were the trees rustling outside. The curtains swaying softly and hitting the glass door. The fridge is running in the background. And the heavy breathing of two adults. Hearts pounding in their chests. Both afraid the other may hear their heart wanting to explode into a volcanic mess. 

Otherwise, silence. 

Y/N hasn’t seen her husband this mad since she last saw him interact with his father. Uramichi was red in the face, a scowl permanently settled atop his facial features. The way he was holding her hand, squeezing it tightly for mental support. She doesn’t even remember what they were even arguing about, as her father-in-law bickered about the most minuscule of things. 

Today, however, Uramichi’s anger was directed at her. She had thrown out all of his beer and cigarettes. His wife was tired of having to deal with a drunk husband more nights than she wanted. Only sleeping when he was wasted and slurring out cuss words. The heavy smell of tobacco following his trail, making her scrunch up her nose in disgust. Coughing whenever she walks by as he puffs out smoke. None of these were healthy coping mechanisms. She genuinely wanted to help her husband figure out and find better alternatives. Healthier options. One that wouldn’t harm his health. 

As a gymnast, shouldn’t he know better? 

Little did she know, her actions would cause Uramichi to have an outburst. The most the two fought over what to eat for dinner, junk food or protein filled. He began the argument by yelling at her. Then proceeded to belittle her, what can she know? How stupid can she be? 

She cried and tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t listen. “It's for your own good!” Y/N sniffled, “why can’t you see that?” She was hugging her own body. Unsure if it was for comfort or out of fear; maybe both? 

Uramichi sighed and rubbed his forehead, “I’m a grown man. I can make my own fucking choices for fucks sake, Y/N!” He’s never used such vulgar vocabularies with her before, this was a first. 

She didn’t want to change Uramichi, instead help diminish the fire inside of him. The one his father lit and kept throwing gasoline at it. 

“You won’t grow like this, dear. If you want a brighter future and to help your depression, we need to start fixing your bad habits.” She emphasized ‘we’. Because they were in this together. 

Uramichi had yet another strenuous day at work, all he wanted was to drink beer until he passed out. His wife’s cuddles no longer lulled him to sleep. Her sweet whispers felt meaningless. Only cigarettes could help him calm his mind down. Yet, she still tried to reason with him. Saying bullshit about seeing a therapist, hanging out with friends more often, or going outside that’s not the gym. 

“I know your fathers did horrible things to you. Such as forcing you into something you didn’t want to do. But you have to stop living in the past. Stop blaming your father for your future, which is your present now.” His wife tried to get close to him to bring him into a hug. 

Enraged at her words, “Oh my god, I could just hit you right now!” Uramichi threw the nearest dumbbell to him across the room. She heard a vase shatter, the one that was a hand me down from her mother. 

“What the hell do you know!? You’ve lived a nice and spoiled life, no inch of worries. No wonder you’re such a stubborn brat half the time.” His words were like a sharp knife cutting through her heart. 

She bent down over the broken pieces of vase. Shattered just like her heart. Uramichi’s eyes and mind were clouded in red rage. He hasn’t realized he broke an important item. One that was personally given to them by his mother-in-law. The woman who entrusted her daughters happiness to him. 

“Stop.” Y/N whispered. “Stop this right now!” She shouted at him. New, hot tears fell from Y/N’s eyes as she held into the broken vase pieces. She was in shock that her husband was willing to get physical over beers and cigarettes. This wasn’t what he promised to her on the day of their wedding vows. 

“You’re no different from your father, Uramichi.” She stood up. “An abuser raised another abuser. I can’t have this cycle continue.” Y/N went to put on her coat. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Uramichi was irritated that she had the audacity to leave in the middle of an argument. 

“Our child doesn’t need to witness what you witnessed your father do to you.” His wife glared at him. 

Those words flipped a switch inside Uramichi. Child? But they didn’t have any children. Then it clicked, his wife was pregnant. Was that the real reason she wanted him to stop? Why didn’t she say so in a better way then? It was too late to ask her these though, because she already left the apartment. 

The small apartment that used to be lovely thanks to his wife, now felt cold and lonely. The way it was before she came into his life. He took a look around the room and saw the mess he made. It might’ve been minor, but it left a big impact. Uramichi noticed the important vase he broke and ran out the door to catch up to his wife. Though she was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and went back inside and laid down on the couch. He screwed up big time. 

When morning came, it was raining but the smell of food tickled his senses and woke him up. He slowly got up from the couch and went towards the kitchen. He found his wife in her favorite apron cooking breakfast. 

“Morning.” She chirped. “I’m making American style sausage with scrambled eggs! Go sit at the table in the living room, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Questions ran through his head as he sat at the table on the floor. The broken vase pieces are gone, but so is the vase. Y/N’s eyes looked empty, betraying the big smile she displayed. He saw his wife bring the food to the table. He quickly got up and helped her. Likewise, he went to grab some additional items to set up the table for breakfast. Was last night a dream? No it couldn’t be. 

The question was itching in Uramichi’s throat, he had to ask. “Why?” 

Y/N looked up from her place, “why what?” 

“Why'd you come back? I even broke your mother’s case.” He thought she walked out for good. He threatened to hit her. He vowed to never be like his father, and that’s exactly who he became last night. His nightmare coming to reality. 

Y/N put her fork down, “Listen, we are married, way passed the dating phase. On our wedding day we vowed to love each other until death do’s us apart. It is both of our responsibilities to make sure the other is doing okay. Physically and mentally. You’re always there for me, dear. I want to be here for you this time, in what I think will help you. I’m sorry I threw out your beer and cigarettes without discussing it with you. I just want  to see you make healthier choices for yourself.” she put her hand over his. “I found out about the baby after I made the decision a while back. It’s another reason now why I would like for you to stop, but the main reason here is you. This is about you and us helping you.” she stared at his eyes. “I don’t wish to change you, but help you. As for the vase, you can buy me another one.” She winked and giggled. “As long as we’re fine, it’s all that matters.”

It was a big change she was asking him to make. But he can take small steps. That’s what the couple decided on. To limit his alcoholic intake to certain days of the week. Same with his smoking. He didn’t have to quit, but he was trying not to be dependent on it. He has the strongest support laying next to him at night. Holding him tightly. Uramichi was truly excited to know he’ll become a father! He’s nervous, but he knew he’s not alone. He thinks about what he can do to be a better father than his was.

Author’s Note:

He needs a hug. And a raise.

Remember, who your parents are don’t define you. If something happened in the past, don’t let it define you and who you are today. It might hold you back from growing. Just remember to take care of your mental health! 💜

Enjoy!

#life lessons with uramichi #uramichi omota headcanon #big brother uramichi #uramichi omota #uramichi #anime x reader #uramichi angst #uramichi x reader #omota uramichi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

On the Side

Warnings: noncon and rape, forced breeding/pregnancy, intimidation, abuse of power, breaking and entering, cheating.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You try to forget Andy but he won’t forget you..

Based on this drabble request:

Andy Barber + breeding/forced pregnancy + “how did you get in here?” + I want chaos, maybe the reader figures out she is pregnant or something. Abuse of authority by him or maybe a post kid scene by Andy. I would love if a post kid glimpse is included and how the reader is scared af of Andy with time. @oneoftheprettynerds​

(fuck tumbler not letting me click on the gif I wanted but whatever, it’s Andy)

🧸🧸🧸

Nothing was like it used to be, especially you. Your hands shook when you were lost in thought, when you thought of him, and that happened often. How could you not every morning when you woke up and found yourself bigger than the last? As your stomach grew and made it harder to forget?

Even when the nausea dissipated, the ache in your hips took its place as the shadow of his deed. 

You laid on the couch, your head against the arm and your hand on your stomach. You dozed off quickly as the television buzzed. There was so much to do but you didn’t have the energy; dishes, mopping, sweeping, you really should take the trash out too. All those worries faded but were replaced by another in your subconscious.

The memory twisted in your mind to a nightmare. Jacob was too old for a babysitter but Laurie also didn’t trust him after his run-in with the law, the story that painted the Nelson headlines for months. You were a bit old yourself to be watching kids for under minimum wage but it was as much a favour as it was a job.

After your placement at the children’s home ended, it was just a temporary gig. And with your modest pay often came a free meal. Jacob was a twerp, he hated that you were his personal chaperone, that at his age he was being treated like a toddler. You couldn’t fault him but neither could you his mother.

And Andy, her husband, he thought it was sort of funny when he wasn’t brooding over his son or lecturing him. He wasn’t as suspicious or shifty around Jacob as his wife, but he still added weight to the load on the adolescent’s shoulders. He wanted him to stay out of trouble until at least college but that would be a whole other can of worms.

Then that night. You were stupid. You didn’t realise Jacob climbed out his window and when Andy came back to find him gone, you got the rant usually reserved for his son. Laurie tried to placate him but you could tell she was worried and just as frustrated with you. But his music had kept going and you swore you heard him in there.

Andy drove you around in silence, broken only by another verbal thrashing. Laurie was stupid to think she could hire a nanny for Jacob but you were worse for letting a teenager outsmart you. Then he stopped and you realised how far out you were. Jacob wouldn’t be around here, not in the slums. He was a brat but he hung with the suburban troublemakers.

“I’ll let Laurie know I decided to fire you,” he said as he shifted into park and killed the engine, “can’t trust you. Maybe you can handle primary schoolers but not our son.”

“Mr. Barber,” you begged in your distorted voice.

Your mind skipping forward and suddenly he was on top of you, the seat reclined beneath you as your shirt was twisted above your chest and your pants on the floor in front of your seat. Andy thrusted between your legs and sent pain through your spine. You tried to tell him to stop but your tortured subconscious muted you. His touch and your fear suffocated you.

You woke with a start and sat up with a groan. You blinked as you tried to shake away the dream. He was there. Sitting in the chair just watching you. It had been almost six months and suddenly he was there.

“How did you get in here?” you gasped and turned your legs over the couch, “how--” you touched your forehead, “I’m still sleeping. It’s a bad dream--”

“You’re clever,” he said and the timbre of his voice assured you that you really were awake, “not answering my calls, I thought you needed time. Then when I went around your mom’s, she said you suddenly packed up and moved out. How’s that when you were living off our scraps?”

“Andy, how-- get out,” you stood but not without a struggle.

His eyes fell to your stomach, “now I know why,” he rose and kept you from getting further than the end of the couch, “you just going to raise my kid in this shithole?”

“I did you a favour. I left. So she didn’t know, so no one knew,” you tried to side step him and he grabbed your upper arms, “this shithole is mine and this baby will never be yours.”

“You’re wrong,” he urged you back and nudged you off-balance, you fell back onto the couch under your own weight, “you can’t change what happened.”

“How did you find me?” you asked.

“Got friends at the PD and you called your mother last Tuesday,” he smiled as he looked down at you.

“What about Laurie? Jacob? What you did--”

“What we did,” his hand drifted down from his belt and he brushed across the bulge twitching in his pants, “it was fun, wasn’t it?”

You shook your head and tried to push yourself up. He caught your shoulders and forced you back onto the cushion. He got to his knees on the floor between yours and cradled your stomach.

“If it wasn’t, you’d have forgotten about it completely,” he said as he pushed your shirt up and rubbed your bump, “but you didn’t.”

“No,” you caught his hand, “leave me alone--”

“If I leave you alone, you’ll be out of diapers and mashed peas before the kid’s babbling,” he snarled and gripped your hand, “I’ll do my part,” his fingers traced down the crease of your thigh, “you just gotta do yours.”

🧸🧸🧸

If you liked this, please reblog and leave some feedback. Thanks for reading!

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #request #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #defending jacob

[letarasstuff]

Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds #x teen!reader #reader insert

[ckjbun]

What kind of ability would Higuchi have and its potential name?

Hi to whoever is reading this! This is my first self-written post so I’m still figuring out how all this works and I’m sorry, if it gets a bit chaotic. Anyways, recently, I came across a question regarding Higuchi from Bungou Stray Dogs. It was about what Higuchi’s ability would be called and what type it would be. So I won’t go into details whether she has an ability or not. I believe she has since she is named after an author (and Asagiri himself kinda confirmed it via Twitter). Thus, I just want to write my thoughts on the potential names and kind of ability. 

Since abilities in the BSD world are always named after rather well-known works of the authors, I compared some of the famous works of Higuchi Ichiyo. Now mind you, I haven’t read her works myself. I mostly relied on comparing summaries and analyses of them. Since there are not a lot of summaries, I read two lesser-known stories myself. I will add the links of the summaries/analyses of the works down below. However, while comparing I found two works that would fit Higuchi. Now, first what do I mean by “fit”? Well, it might be best to start explaining what I think about the type of Higuchi’s ability.  

I believe Higuchi has not an offensive type of ability. Nothing like Atsushi’s, Akutagawa’s, Kyouka’s etc. If she had, I’m sure she would have used it already, since she’s fighting a lot with her guns, why wouldn’t she use her ability as an addition, why would she hide it? There are two possibilities why we haven’t seen her ability yet. First possibility would be that her ability is not visible like Odasaku’s or Ango’s, maybe it’s even an ability that she hasn’t even discovered, just like Fukuzawa hasn’t realized he has one before the ADA. Second would be that she can use her ability only under stringent conditions. And I believe it’s the latter, hear me out. 

Remember this scene from Chapter 14? Higuchi reaches out to hold Akutagawa’s hand but then pulls back because she remembered him saying that he doesn’t need her help. Now, you could argue that holding the hands of injured loved ones is a gesture of closeness, a way to show them your support, a way to tell them that you’re staying by their side. And Aku doesn’t want this support, so that’s why she retracted her hand. But something bothers me here. In this scene it looks like Aku slapped Higuchi’s hand away, doesn’t it? And then he says, he doesn’t need her help, instead of support. I know, you could say support and help are almost the same. But to me, help is something that you do more “actively”, while support can be something passive. What if Higuchi’s hand represents this “active” help? And what would actively help Akutagawa in this very moment? A healing ability for example. Coincidentally, in the panel before, Hirotsu asks Higuchi what power she posses to make them [the black lizard] obey. Is this a hint that there is a hint about Higuchi’s ability in the next panel? Maybe. But let’s look at the next panel. It’s the title page of this chapter. 

As you can see, Higuchi has a bandage wrapped around her leg and they seem connected to Akutagawa. In this chapter, it is revealed that Higuchi contemplated about leaving the Port Mafia but her reason for staying is implied to be Akutagawa. This is perfectly symbolized by the bandages in this title page. The bandages coming from Akutagawa are holding her leg back, stopping her from walking away from the PM. But maybe there is a second interpretation? If you’re looking at Akutagawa’s left hand, the bandages are starting to come off. What if this means Akutagawa is healing and doesn’t need the bandages anymore? Instead it wraps around Higuchi’s leg, restricting her movement. What if Higuchi’s ability allows her to help someone else (doesn’t have to be necessarily a healing ability) but in exchange she needs to sacrifice something? Anyways, I think she has an ability which allows her to help other people in a non-combat way. With this in mind, I was looking through several works of Higuchi Ichiyo, searching for something that “fits”. Meaning that I was looking for parallels and themes in irl Higuchi’s stories that could be “converted” into an ability. Just like the coat that the protagonist of Rashomon stole in order to now die of hunger was used as Akutagawa’s ability which seems to be able to eat everything, or like the wish that one’s brother does not die in war in Thou Shalt Not Die became Yosano’s ability and serving as a basis of her background story. Anyways, I’d like to present the works that could be used for Higuchi’s ability and draw some parallels. 

1. The Thirteen’s Night

The story revolves around a poor woman, called Oseki. Thanks to her marriage to a rich man, her family was able to live a better life and her brother found a job. But on the thirteenth night of the ninth month of the lunar calendar (one of two special nights for moon viewing), Oseki visited her parents with the intention on asking her parents for approval for divorcing her husband. Before entering, she overhears her parents talking about how lucky they are that they have such good children who don’t cause trouble and that they are very thankful for this marriage. Hesitating at first, she finally goes in and admits that she wants to divorce her husband because he abuses her mentally. He insults her constantly and tells her that she's worthless, stupid, and uneducated. Her mother is outraged. But her father, even though he acknowledges her suffering, reminds her what her husband has done for this family and that she would lose her son since women couldn’t get custody of their children after a divorce at that time. Agreeing with her father, Oseki decides to go back to her husband: 

“It was selfish of me to think of a divorce. You're right. If I couldn't see Tarō, there'd be no point in living. I might flee my present sorrows, but what kind of future would I have? If I could think of myself as already dead, that would solve everything… Then Tarō would have both his parents with him. It was a foolish idea I had, and I've troubled you with the whole unpleasant business. From tonight I will consider myself dead — a spirit who watches over Tarō. That way I can bear Isamu's cruelty for a hundred years to come.” 

– In The Shade of Spring Leaves, translated by Robert Lyons Danly

Just like BSD Higuchi contemplates leaving the PM, the protagonist here wants to leave her husband. The PM is like the husband. It allows her to support herself and probably her family (at least we saw that she has a sister). But there is constant abuse. Akutagawa is clearly the biggest source of abuse that we can see. But it’s not only him. In Chapter 14, Mori asks her if she is really suited for this job. Telling her indirectly that she is useless or that she is too weak for the PM. Later, you can see the Black Lizard doubting her capabilities, even threatening her. But just like Oseki she stays because of a loved one. What really concerns me is Oseki saying that she will consider herself as a dead spirit watching over Tarō. What if Higuchi, in order to use her ability, has to sacrifice part of her lifespan? Or maybe she loses a feeling? Like e.g. she loses the ability to feel happiness, making her a bit more dead inside? If you draw this parallel, you could also say that when ‘consider myself dead’ is the condition of the ability, then ‘watching over Tarō’ is a hint to Higuchi’s ability. An ability that allows her to watch over and protect her loved ones? This theme fits Higuchi perfectly, since a big topic in Higuchi’s story line is how she wants to help and protect Akutagawa. So it makes sense that her ability might be something that would help him (**intensely squinting at the recent events in the manga, especially chapter 88**). Moving on to the second possibility before the pain starts to set in. 

2. Takekurabe (literally: "Comparing heights", "Child's Play" in the Robert Lyons Danly translation, "Growing Up" in the Edward Seidensticker translation)

Now this is considered as Higuchi Ichiyo’s masterpiece. So the chances are high that the ability is based on this story. The story accompanies a group of children who live next to the Yoshiwara quarter. There are two rival gangs: the main street gang (’omote-machi’), lead by Shōtarō, a cultivated young boy who is the grandson of the owner of a pawnshop, and the back street gang (’yoko-chō’), lead by Chōkichi, the impulsive firefighter’s son. (Maybe a parallel to the ADA with (cultivated) Fukuzawa and the PM with Mori who’s a doctor which belongs into the same category of occupation as firefighters?). Among the main street gang, there was Midori, popular and pretty, who lives in the brothel where her sister works. Shōtarō probably has a crush on her. But Midori probably has feelings for the other main character, Nobu, the son of a Buddhist priest. Even though he returns her feelings, he distances himself from her out of his self-consciousness. Later he joins the rival gang after repeated request by Chōkichi. Anyways, they spend their days very care-free, attending school, playing with each other after school. One day, some conflict arises between the gangs and Midori, while protecting someone else, gets slapped by Chōkichi with a sandal. He then proceeds to tell her that their gang is backed by no other than Nobu. Midori feels humiliated and stops going to school. Soon she also stops playing with the other children. After some time passed, Midori is seen with her hair all done up. She has become a distant, lady-like young woman. This probably means that she got her first period and is old enough to become a prostitute or that she just had her first client as a courtesan. Little by little, the children grow up. Nobu is sent off to be trained as a priest and Shōtarō has come to accept the responsibilities of his family’s shop. 

There are several themes in this story that I’d like to point out, namely unrequited love, Midori’s transformation and underlying unchangeable fates. The first one is obviously a big theme in Higuchi’s story. Midori and Nobu are unable to express their love for each other because of their positions in life. Just like Higuchi is unable to express her feelings for Akutagawa. If you want some hope, AkuHigu shippers, maybe Aku has also feelings for Higuchi but is still very confused and self-conscious about it just like Nobu. Anyways, because of their positions in the PM, it would make everything very complicated if Higuchi confessed. Additionally, Midori feels like she was humiliated by her love when she got slapped by that sandal. I’m sure that Higuchi gets humiliated by Akutagawa a lot. The next theme is Midori’s transformation from a tomboyish to a lady-like, distant woman. We all know Higuchi looks really badass in her suits. But again, look at the title page of chapter 14. Higuchi is dressed up all prettily and lady-like in a dress, and her hair is done all up. Just like Midori after her transformation. Midori’s transformation stands for Midori accepting her occupation as a prostitute even though she doesn’t want to. In this chapter, we see that Higuchi has accepted her job in the PM, even though she doesn’t want to do this job. At the end Shōtarō sings the following: 

"Growing up,

she plays among the butterflies

and flowers.

But she turns sixteen,

and all she knows

is work and sorrow."

– In The Shade of Spring Leaves, translated by Robert Lyons Danly

I don’t know about you guys, but to me that necklace that Higuchi is wearing in that title page looks like a butterfly to me. This is really farfetched but maybe this could be a hint about when Higuchi joined the Port Mafia? However, the biggest theme in Takekurabe is the underlying unchangeable fate of the children. Shōtarō was destined to become the next owner of the pawnshop, Nabu was destined to become a Buddhist monk and Midori would become a prostitute. Maybe this gives us some insight into why Higuchi joined the PM? Maybe one of her parents was a PM member? I also like to think that since Aku is in the PM, since she wants to be with him, she can’t but stay in the PM, and this is her fate. Nevertheless, fate is a central theme in Takekurabe. This is the reason why I think, if the ability is based on this story, Higuchi’s ability would be something like changing fates. Changing fate of someone else but in return she must sacrifice something. 

Okay, so this post has become quite long. But I still wanted to mention two other stories Yamizakura (Flowers at Dusk) and The Sound of the Koto where I saw a lot of parallels. I just want to briefly tell you the story of The Sound of the Koto. In this story a woman abandons her son in order to leave her husband who has a bad reputation. The husband then turns into an alcoholic and dies later at a party because of alcohol intoxication. The boy becomes hardened to the world, despises his mother for leaving them, and even contemplates suicide. The story shifts then to a woman playing the koto.  I want to give you an excerpt for the end of this story: 

“On this night the sound of the woman’s playing helped another to be reborn. Through fourteen springs and fourteen autumns, the boy had been buffeted by the rains. His heart had gradually toughened until it had become as hard as stone. No arrow could penetrate it. He seemed destined to follow the example of his father, to die among the fields or in the mountains, where his remains would be bleached by the elements. Some were convinced the boy’s life would end in prison chains, while his bad name spread to every roadside. 

But now, at once, the tenderness buried in his heart was freed by the midnight strains of the koto. For the first time in many years, he felt tears come to his eyes. Or were they jewelled drops of dew? He would not exchange them for anything. 

He, who had known neither love nor compassion, and who had no idea what the player of these refrains could even look like, felt a moment of happiness as the music drifted over the garden wall. […]

[…] How could a stormy wind blow now? The clouds in his heart had disappeared. Once more the woman began to play. The sound of the koto would be his friend for a hundred years, the seed for a hundred years of yearning. He had entered a world where a hundred different flowers wer in bloom. 

– In The Shade of Spring Leaves, translated by Robert Lyons Danly

This boy somehow just reminds me so much of Akutagawa. Just like this boy, without any parents and home, wandering around in this world, Akutagawa has become hardened to the world. I’d like to think that Higuchi’s ability could free Akutagawa from his pain, just like the sound of koto does for this boy. 

So, now I said everything I wanted to say, I guess. If there is really anyone reading this and reading this until here, thank you so much! I appreciate it very much that you kept reading even though my thoughts are probably quite chaotic. I’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or weird sentence structures or anything like this. English is not my first language. I’m very happy, if you could point out any mistakes or have any suggestion for improvement. Lastly, I just want to remind you that these are my thoughts, I love discussing so feel free to comment your thoughts but I’d like you to keep in mind that there is not necessarily a wrong or right, theories are theories, interpretations are interpretations. Everyone has another interpretation. They can only be proven wrong by Asagiri sensei himself. Until then just keep the discussions friendly and tolerant towards other people’s thoughts and opinions. 

Sources:

All manga panels used in this post are from easygoingscans

Higuchi Ichiyo (樋口 一葉)

Higuchi Ichiyo: "In the Shade of Spring Leaves"

In The Shade Of Spring Leaves: The Life Of Higuchi Ichiyo, With Nine Of Her Best Stories, translated by Robert Lyons Danly

In the Shade of Spring Leaves – Ichiyō Higuchi, Part 1

“Flowers at Dusk” and Other Notes – Ichiyō Higuchi, Part 2

“Encounters on a Dark Night” and Other Notes – Ichiyō Higuchi, Part 3

“Child’s Play” and Other Notes – Ichiyō Higuchi, Part 4

HIGUCHI ICHIYŌ: BADASS WOMEN IN JAPANESE HISTORY

The Thirteenth Night (Wikipedia)

Female Subject, Interrupted in Higuchi Ichiyō's "The Thirteenth Night"

GAME OF TRADITIONS: TRADITION IN THE THIRTEENTH NIGHT AND DIARY OF A MAD MAN

HIGUCHI ICHIYŌ IN MODERN JAPANESE AND EUROPEAN DRESS: Modern Japanese versions (gendaigoyaku) of Higuchi Ichiyō’s Takekurabe and their Relationship with English, Castilian Spanish and Catalan Translations

Separate Ways Summary

Literary Analysis of “Separate Ways”

Flowers at Dusk

Nigorie (Wikipedia)

From the Margins of Meiji Society: Space and Gender in Higuchi Ichiyō's "Troubled Waters"

#bsd #bsd manga #bsd theories #bsd theory #bsd higuchi #bungou stray dogs #bsd akutagawa #bsd thoughts #bungou stray dogs theory #bungou stray dogs analysis #bsd analysis #bsd characters #bsd chapter 88 #bsd mori #bsd hirotsu #bsd black lizard #port mafia #bungo stray dogs #bsd abilities #higuchi theory #Q overthinks again

[imagine-loki]

I'm Here, Chapter 17

TITLE: I’m Here CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 17 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine that Loki is curious about Tony’s new assistant. There’s something about her that he feels she’s hiding. He then realises that she is being abused by her husband. But he’s the only one that sees it. She soon confides in him and finds comfort with him.  RATING: M

  Loki was a bit nervous about bringing up the subject of moving to another realm to Kayla. He spoke to Thor first and had him go to Asgard to speak to Odin and Frigga, to make sure it would be allowed before possibly getting her hopes up. If she even wanted to, that was. She might be repulsed at the idea and get scared.

Thor returned mere hours later, telling Loki that it was sorted. Odin was rather understanding, having had Heimdall keep an eye on what Loki was up to on Earth, he saw how he had changed and fallen in love with the mortal, doing whatever he could to keep her safe.

Frigga was delighted about the thought of possibly having one of her sons back home to stay. Asgard having a Prince again. And she was desperate to meet Kayla, too.

‘Are you going to ask her?’ Thor asked Loki as they left the training hall together and headed to the main room.

‘I am.’ Loki nodded.

‘Well, no time like the present.’ Thor grinned and patted his brother’s shoulder as they spotted Kayla in the living room, watching TV. Though it was obvious her mind was elsewhere.

Loki took a deep breath and when he walked in, he had his armour vanish and changed into a light blue shirt and black leather trousers, what he tended to wear when he wasn’t fighting or training. Kayla smiled when she saw him approach.

‘May I?’ He asked, motioning to the space next to her on the sofa.

‘Of course.’ She sat up more and turned the volume down on the TV.

‘Are you doing ok?’ Loki asked, turning to face her more once he sat down.

She shrugged. ‘Honestly, I don’t know.’ She suddenly seemed very vulnerable. ‘I… I just want to move on, to forget about him. But it’s impossible to do when I can’t even leave the building.’ She tried to hold back tears.

‘Oh darling, I know it’s difficult.’ He took her hand in his and rubbed the back of it gently. ‘I wanted to speak to you about something… About an option you have, if you want it. And it is completely your choice, no one is going to force you to do something or go somewhere if you don’t want to. It was Matt that suggested it, actually, and I agree it is a good idea…’ Loki rambled a bit, Kayla could tell he was a bit nervous, which was strange for Loki.

‘We thought, if you want, you could move to Asgard… with me…’

Kayla took a moment to process what Loki had just said to her.

‘Kayla? As I said, it’s just a suggestion.’ Loki said quickly, worried she was going to say no and panic that they were trying to get her to leave Earth against her will.

‘You would really take me to Asgard? To protect me?’

Loki nodded. ‘I would do anything for you, Kayla. But only if it’s what you want. Ross wouldn’t ever be able to get to you there. You could start over, in utter safety.’

Kayla took some time to take it all in.

‘Would they allow me to go there? Like, would Odin let me stay?’

Loki nodded. ‘He would.’

‘Would you be there with me, too?’ She asked quietly.

Loki nodded again. ‘Always.’

She smiled widely. ‘Is that what you want though, I know there was a lot of bad memories there…’

‘With you there, it would be perfect. I’ve changed a lot since being there, my views on the Universe, on all the realms, have vastly changed. My wants and desires have, too.’ Loki said honestly.

Kayla let out a big breath of air and she sat back on the sofa, still taking it in and surprised that it was even an option.

‘If you’re considering it, you need to know that there’s a chance you won’t ever be able to come back to Earth… Ross and Fisk are more dangerous than we originally thought. If they figure out where you are, they will be tracking the Bifrost openings on Earth, checking them out to see if you’re there.’ Loki said. He wanted her to know everything before making a decision.

‘I… I guess I don’t really have anything to come back for, anyway.’ She shrugged. ‘It… It would be nice to be able to go outside and not have to worry about Ross. To be free.’ Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about the possibility.

Loki was pleased that she wasn’t against the idea, that if anything she seemed willing to go. His heart was racing he was so excited about the thought of taking her to Asgard.

He told her more about Asgard, so she would know what to expect. How it differed from Earth, but everything he told her just seemed wonderful.

She did take time to mull it over. She didn’t rush into it, which Loki was glad of. She thought on it for a day or two, spoke to the others about it as well, including Matt. Who was only encouraging of her to do what she wanted to do, to do what was right for her. The team agreed with him on that.

They all just wanted what was best for her.

-

One afternoon, she had asked for everyone to gather in the living room. She stood nervously up on front of them all.

‘I uhm… I’ve been thinking about Loki’s offer of going to Asgard. And… And I want to accept.’ She smiled widely at Loki, who matched her smile. He wanted to cheer and shout from the rooftops, he was utterly delighted at her answer.

He rushed over to her and lifted her up, making her squeal and laugh as he spun her around. The others laughed at his excitement.

‘Are you absolutely sure?’ He asked when he placed her back down on her feet.

She nodded eagerly. ‘I am, completely sure. But I do worry about leaving the mess here…’ She looked around at the others.

‘Don’t worry about that, we can handle Ross. When he realises you’re gone, he will likely back off. And you never know, if we manage to get rid of Kingpin and Ross, you can come back to visit us lowly mortals.’ Clint teased.

‘Clint’s right. If we can make it safe for you to come back to visit, we will. But I suspect you’ll be having too much of a good time with the Gods that you won’t want to ever come back here.’ Matt smiled fondly as he walked over and took her hands.

She smiled back at him and hugged him tightly. ‘I’m really going to miss you. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.’

Matt squeezed her tight and pressed his face into her neck. ‘I’m going to miss you too.’

When he let go of her, he looked to Loki while Kayla hugged the rest of the team, saying her goodbyes. ‘Take care of her, yeah?’

‘You know I will.’ Loki said sincerely as he put his hand out towards Matt.

Matt smiled and shook his hand. The others were surprised, but pleased that they had finally managed to put aside their differences. Well, almost.

‘It may seem you’ve won, but I’m the bigger man for letting her go… because it’s best for her.’ Matt said quietly to Loki with a smirk.

Loki rolled his eyes and chuckled. ‘Yeah, yeah, sure.’

Kayla gave Thor a hug last. ‘This is not goodbye for us, I will come and visit you. Make sure my brother isn’t causing too much mischief.’ He winked at Kayla.

‘I’ll try and stop him from getting into trouble.’ She grinned up at Thor.

‘Hey. I’m always on my best behaviour.’ Loki growled at them both.

After packing a small bag of essentials, most of her things she wouldn’t really need as she would get a whole new wardrobe of Asgardian clothes, she went outside the back of the tower onto the large green lawn where Loki was waiting for her, in his Asgardian armour. Looking very majestic.

He put his hand out towards her. ‘Are you ready?’

Kayla took a deep breath and smiled widely as she took his hand. ‘Ready.’ She nodded as he squeezed her hand and took her beside him.

Loki looked upwards. ‘Heimdall, open the Bifrost.’ He called up to the sky.

Suddenly there was a bright rainbow light that opened up over them both, sucking them up into the sky, to the realm of the Gods.

To Kayla’s new home.

#Loki #Angst #Submitted fic #i'm here #chapter 17 #fanficshiddles

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

#love lessons #jacqueline wilson #teacher #teacher crush #teacher x student #anti ezria #ezria #pretty little liars #aria montgomery #ezra fitz #when i kissed the teacher #book review #books

[jooniyah]

Poison Apple : The Second

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem Reader ; Min Yoongi x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Moneylender!Taehyung

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut rated R

Warnings: NON CON, Hard Yandere behavior, kidnapping, implied forced pregnancy, emotional abuse, violence, blackmail, character death, voluntary starvation, degradation and physical abuse, slapping, cum play, manipulation, profanity, smut, blood, knives, guns, assassins, and murder.

Word count: 22.91 K

Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is a non-consensual setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. All warnings for Chapter 1 apply. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note:  This is the second chapter of the Poison Apple Trilogy. Please make sure to read Part 1 before proceeding. 

Chapter 1   |    Chapter 2 

The man clad in black adjusted the scope of his M107 rifle, making sure his reticle was in perfect position. As he waited for his target, he did a quick sweep of the terraces of the adjacent buildings. No one was about. A faint slippery sheen of dew covered the cracked floors of the terrace he was positioned on. Any time now. He looked at the neon digits glowing on his watch.

Overhead, his skilled ears could pick out the droning of an approaching airplane. His skin felt clammy, possibly due to the side effect of his beta-blockers. Well, he’d finish the job and go have a well-earned vacation. Cold hands weren’t a big side effect, not when his pills gave him razor-sharp precision at shooting. The gangway of the cruise liner was slowly opened to allow passengers on board. The time had come.

He carefully combed his eyes through the influx of passengers, seeking the one face he was looking for. He didn’t even need to take the photo out of his pocket. He had committed the face to memory. And no disguise could fool him, he was ready for everything the target might try to pull off.

Time ticked on. People were walking on the gangway, boarding the ship, waving to their loved ones. But the target was not to be found anywhere. The described person hadn’t arrived, and the sniper had assumed that he could catch the target on the gangway. But as his professional eyes raked through the humans on board, he knew he was wasting his time. He remained in position, watching on as the ship sounded the final horn before gliding smoothly out onto the sea. He dialed the only number on his burner phone.

“Yes?” The tone sounded shrill and eager.

“A no-show. I repeat, it was a no-show.”

“What? Are you sure you didn’t miss-“?

“I never miss a target.”

There was a deep frustrated sigh.

“Fine. Abort and return.”

The sniper proceeded to pack up his gear and prepared to leave.

On the other end of the line, the figure exhaled sharply, muttering curses and bemoaning the failure. Just then, a dark outline materialized in the doorway, causing the figure to jump up, body numb with defeat.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I won’t repeat my question again, Mrs.Min.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Then, answer me.”

You remained motionless, staring at the hard-grey table, fingers interweaved.

“Well?” The officer raised his voice, rapping on the table.

“I told you the truth.”

The man scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

“Listen, lady. You know your story sounds shit stupid, right?”

Your voice broke into a whisper.

“But it is true.”

He rolled his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“Mr. Kim killed your husband? For you? He’s obsessed with you?”

“Yes.”

“You are giving yourself way too much credit, lady.”

You gritted your teeth, refusing to look at him. He clicked his tongue.

“Well, if your absurd story is true, where is your husband’s body?”

“I don’t know.”

He tsked under his breath. “So what proof do you have to tie Mr.Kim to this alleged murder?”

“None.”

He got up abruptly, shaking his head in irritation. He pointed a finger at you.

“You’re wasting my time. And for the record, Mr.Kim has been nothing but helpful in this investigation.”

You slowly raised your head. “What? What did he say?”

“Do you good to hear it and weave another absurd story, wouldn’t it?”

You watched him hesitate at the door, his hand resting on the handle. “If you are so innocent, Mrs. Min, why didn’t you report your husband missing?”

An angry fuse went off in your brain.

“Why would I report him missing, if he was already dead?”

“Can you afford an attorney, Mrs.Min?”

“I-What?”

The officer stared at you, pursed his lips, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The court-appointed attorney was a tall, curvy woman in her early thirties. She looked calm and had an air of high maintenance about her. You wondered how she could have accepted to defend you. Maybe the woman did pro-bono work. She probably had rich clients. Rich. You were once rich. When Yoongi was alive. Yoongi. A bitter feeling coursed through your heart.

Another detective accompanied the officer who had previously interrogated you. They settled across you and the attorney, scraping chairs on the floor as they took their seats.

“Well, Mrs. Min,” the officer began, “we understand you have mortgaged all your property.”

“Yes.”

“So, what happened to the money?” The officer flicked through papers on a clipboard. “50 million dollars, wasn’t it?”

The second detective pushed himself forward. “More importantly, where is your husband?”

A dull throb started in your temples and seared across your skull. You could shout yourself hoarse that Yoongi was dead, but none of these people would believe you.

When he received no reply, the detective persisted.

“You got rid of him because you wanted the money to yourself, didn’t you?”

The attorney interjected in a harsh tone.

“My client will not answer that.”

“You hid the money someplace, so you could go and retrieve it later.”

“Officer, you will not harass my client like this.”

“I won’t, if she agrees to speak the truth.”

The woman turned to you; harsh impatience evident on the curl of her lips.

“Not a word, Y/N.”

You nodded weakly. You had told everything to the cops already. No one believed in you, not one soul believed that Kim Taehyung murdered Min Yoongi to obtain you. It was nightmarish to go on a walk, people threw such malicious looks your way. What had you ever done to deserve this?

The officers poked and prodded for some more time, and finally packed their papers and left. While you walked out of the interrogation room, your attorney asked you to join her for lunch. You attempted to decline; you weren’t in the mood for lunch. Or anything for that matter.

But you had nowhere to return to, except straight into Taehyung’s world. It was better to prolong the journey back. Besides, the attorney told you that she wanted to discuss a few case details with you over lunch. Automatically, your feet started following her.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The minute you sat down to lunch, you understood that it was a ruse. She neither ordered food for herself nor did she suggest you to. As soon as the waiter turned, she dipped her head low and spoke rapidly:

“I hear that they are bringing in a solid witness to testify against you.”

The surprise caught you off-guard.

“But I didn’t do anything. What is the person going to testify about?”

“That you knew Yoongi was mortgaging your property and you jumped on the opportunity to get the money.”

“But that’s insane! I never-“

There was a haughty roll of her eyes that sparked bitter anger in you. She looked at you as if you were kidding.

“Oh, come on, doll. You can tell me the truth. I’m the only person you can trust.”

Her judging gaze made you want to punch her in the face.

“You think I – I am guilty? You don’t trust me?” Your tone grew louder and a few people turned to glance at you. “Why the hell did you agree to defend me then?”

“Pipe down,” she hissed, looking around herself self-consciously. “They have a witness and a story that sounds better than yours.”

“And that means I’m guilty? Because my story sounds ridiculous?”

She shrugged as if she didn’t care. She took her phone out, swiping on it mindlessly. There was nothing except for the clink of glasses and cutlery around you before she spoke again.

“I want you to consider a plea deal.”

“And why would I, when I’m clearly not guilty?” You folded your hands defiantly, surveying her with a hard stare.

“This is not a simple Missing Person search. You are a person of interest in this case as a possible murderer.”

“They haven’t yet found the body.” Your tongue had a metallic taste when you uttered the word.

“Yet.” She let the words sink in. “But they have proof that you stole the money.”

“Stole? That’s my husband’s money! I was taking it to save him.”

“You know what, Y/N? This story is so silly. You are going overboard with the obsession angle.” She leaned back and lit a cigarette. “You know what really happened?”

She paused and exhaled smoke in your direction, tilting her head to look at you more closely.

“You knew your husband owed Kim Taehyung money. You urged him to mortgage your property. He was probably unwilling. So, you pledged all your property and got the money. The money was in your house. It was easy cash. Min Yoongi was anyway going to be penniless after that, so-“

“Stop it!” Your scream turned a lot of heads.

“Allow me to finish.”

“No, stop it! Stop it right now!”

She smirked lazily. “-So why lose the cash and end up with him? It’s easy, you killed him and took off with the money. You stashed the money and never intended to show up again. Not before someone reported Yoongi missing, that is.”

“It wasn’t like that! You are fucking wrong!”

She blew a smoke ring, not minding your distress in the least. “But that is what the prosecution is bringing to court. And they have a witness who saw you lugging all the money and fleeing the house in your nightclothes.” She paused to laugh. “Couldn’t wait to even get properly dressed?”

Her phone chimed, and she looked down. Just as quickly, she grabbed her coat and briefcase, making haste to get out. You stood up to follow, but she laid a hand on your shoulder and sat you down again.

“He’ll be coming now. Remember what I said, the prosecutor’s going to have a field day with your story.”

She was out of earshot even before you could frame the words: “He? Who?”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You knew who was walking towards you before you even saw his face. Him. The man who had killed your husband. The man who you were trying to prolong going back to. Kim Taehyung.

He weaved his way through the tables at the restaurant, reaching your side like a piece of metal drawn to a magnet. He took his Aviators off, mussing his dark bangs out of his eyes as he sat down opposite you.

You got up to leave, and his hand shot through the air to grip your forearm.

“Sit down, honey.” His face was open and pleasant, but his eyes were unreadable. “You haven’t had lunch yet.”

The grip tightened, and you settled back down, a scowl on your face as you did so. You never dulled your scorching glare while he called the waiter and ordered food. After the waiter left, he turned to you.

“It’s been two weeks since it happened, Y/N. How much longer do you want me to wait?”

Tears pricked your eyes. Two weeks before, you had kissed Yoongi in Taehyung’s basement for what you hadn’t known would be the last time ever. You had been taken to another cottage of Taehyung’s after it happened. You had refused to eat or talk; you had been consumed in grief. Suddenly, a day ago, Wo Bin had tossed you in a car, and he had dropped you off at a hotel room. That same afternoon, the cops had found you and taken you in for questioning.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s deep voice broke into your thoughts. “I’m talking to you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you.”

“I’d rather go to prison; I’ll at least be free from your clutches.”

He snickered, flashing a boxy smile at you. If you didn’t know better, you’d call that an innocent grin. He leaned towards you, the smile still turning up the corners of his mouth.

“You? In prison? Oh , baby, that’s not a place for a princess like you.” His gaze dropped down before he looked into your eyes again. “Especially a pregnant princess.”

He watched the way your face twisted. The waiter brought the food, laying down the plates swiftly before you. Taehyung smiled at him in amiable politeness, waited for him to leave and resumed without missing a beat:

“You will have to give birth in prison, you’ll lose your baby after 18 months anyway. You don’t have relatives, so your baby will most definitely go into the system for foster care. Do you want that?”

You had no answer. You hadn’t thought of it ever happening, to be honest.

“It’s also possible you’ll be sentenced to many long years in prison. By the time you get out, your baby would be an adult.”

He saw the way your lips trembled as you digested the facts he was presenting. He bent down and sipped a spoonful of his soup. You looked at his bent head, weighing your options.

“It’s better than-“

Before you could say any further, he cut you short, raising his hand.

“I must say I look forward to adopting your baby.”

He grinned smoothly as he saw you sputter in dismay. God, you were so cute.

“What? Why would you? You don’t care about Yoongi’s baby.”

“Well, true, but the baby is part bastard and part angel. I like to focus on the fact that half of you will be with me as I await your return.”

He slurped the noodles in his soup with a flourish. “I can pull some strings to get the baby assigned to me.” He wiped his mouth with a tissue delicately, watching you the entire time.

“Don’t make me hate you even more, Kim Taehyung.”

He reached over the table, trying to take your hand, but you flicked it away. He sighed and shook his head.

“Eat up, Y/N. That attorney of yours kept you waiting without even offering food.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. She was probably working for him. He seemed to have a lot of people wound around his little finger. Except you. You fell silent, eating without looking up once.

The table was silent until he cleared his throat.

“I want you to think all this through and decide if you want me to help you.”

You scoffed at him. “Help me? How? Do you own the Justice Department too?”

He looked unfazed. A tiny smile played on his lips. “Eat and we’ll talk at the hotel.”

You fell silent again, but the question wormed its way out of your mouth despite your control.

“Why am I staying in that hotel? You didn’t take me to your house.”

“Because you mortgaged your house, you ran away with the money, and I don’t know you apart from the occasional meetings in the elite parties. In the past, when poor Mr. Min was alive, of course.”

“You don’t know me? Are you fucking kidding me, Taehyung?”

His boxy smile returned. Though these were not exactly favorable circumstances, the fact that you were so prettily angry made his heart warm. You were mad at him because he said he didn’t know you? A small jealous part of his heart sang in joy. Even if those words were uttered with hate, he was certain you would love him if you got to know him better. Until then, the subtle undercurrent would have to suffice.

“Like I said, we’ll talk about this at the hotel, Y/N.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

When you reached the hotel room, Taehyung opened the door, motioning for you to go in.

“After you, my darling.”

Once you were inside, he took off your coat, brushing his fingers against your bare arms, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could hear him sigh heavily behind you, and you spun around to face him.

“Get on with it.”

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “You mean, get on with making love to you?”

You swatted the hand that was ghosting your shoulder, your tone drenched in spite.

“You know what I meant, Taehyung. What the hell were you talking about at the restaurant?”

He pouted his lips and his face fell. “Oh. That.” He sighed again, walking over to the bed.

He sat down, patting the bed to indicate that you were supposed to sit down too. When you didn’t comply, he yanked you by the arm, making you sit in his lap. A hand reached to your side to pinch you in case you squirmed. By then, you knew better than to resist. He rested the side of his head on your shoulder, whistling softly.

“Baby, you’re going to be sent away for a long time.”

“For what? Don’t play your games with me, Kim Taehyung.”

He turned you so you were facing him. There was animation in his eyes, so unlike the usual blank stare. It looked almost as if he were sad.

“You’re going to be tried for the murder of your husband.”

You tried to jump up, and a sharp pinch stilled you into position. “But I didn’t kill him.”

He used his free hand to brush away the tears, his touch feathery light and exceptionally gentle.

“Even if they don’t find the body, there’s a lot of evidence for reasonable doubt, and that’s enough for the jury.”

A sudden tic made your lips tremble. He held you patiently, waiting for it to subside.

“What evidence?”

His eyes softened.

“Some blood. DNA.” He watched your expression as he added: “The fact that you mortgaged the property, got the money, and fled.”

“But I didn’t-” Your brows furrowed for a second before it struck you. “Bong Ju.”

He nodded without answering. He watched you work things out in your mind. He always admired your smartness. But after Yoongi died, you had become kind of slow at thinking through stuff. He wished you would get better quickly so he could pounce on you.

“So, what happens next? You kill my husband, put me in prison, and then take my child?”

He didn’t say anything, quietly looking at the beaded tears on the corners of your eyes.

“I can help you. I can make it all go away.”

Something made you squirm on his lap. To your utter horror, you discovered what it was. You hit his jaw, making him gasp. Pushing yourself off of his lap, you screamed, boiling with rage.

“You’re hard? This is making you hard? What kind of sick bastard are you?”

The scream didn’t have any effect on him. He kept staring at you, eyes burning with primal hunger. Watching you stand before him, face red in anger and nose flaring, made him feel things.

His voice was soft, almost inaudible. “You do that to me.” He reached out to grasp your hand again, and pulled you down so you were almost straddling him.

“Listen Y/N. You have made me wait long enough. I will say this only once, so you better pay attention.”

You struggled in his arms, trying to get away from him. But a hand firmly cupped your jaw and pulled you close to his face.

“Fucking. Listen.”

You nodded wordlessly, and he relaxed his hold on your jaw.

“Two scenarios. One, plead guilty and go to prison. They’ll try you for the murder too. Two, plead innocent and still go to prison. I’ve planted enough evidence to support both scenarios. And you’ll lose the baby in both cases.”

He looked at you chastely, eyes wide and sincere.

“I have both the prosecutor and the defense attorney ready to handle it either way. Any proof of your innocence turns up, your attorney will quash it down. She is very thorough. Your friend Jung Hoseok is already being watched.”

“You bought both the prosecutor and the attorney?”

“Money, baby. It’s what drives them all.”

“And? You want me to dance to your tune, don’t you? What is it?”

He smiled again, and the smile reached his eyes.

“Three, you walk away from all this. Innocent. Your baby lives.”

“In exchange for what?”

His eyes sparkled, and his hands softly squeezed the side of your hips.

“Marry me.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“What do you want, Se Jong?”

The man perched on the hood of the car didn’t flinch.

Wo Bin exhaled in irritation. He had other pressing matters to deal with. He had errands to run for his boss. The white folded paper was still in his pocket, making his mind itch to get on with it. The boss had given him the paper and asked him to find the man matching what was written on it. Strange order, but his boss probably had his reasons. He shook the thoughts away and focused on the man who was eating his time.

“Unlike you, I have work to do, Se Jong. Spit it out.”

The man addressed as Se Jong shrugged his shoulders, leaning back lazily on the car’s windshield.

“I don’t know man.”

Wo Bin ground his teeth.

“Why did you ask to meet me then?”

“I want more.”

“You already get more than enough.”

“Not as much as you do.”

Wo Bin’s nose flared. Having served in the military, it always hurt his pride to be compared to a civilian goon.

“I am not a bank robber like you, Se Jong. You’re not even a good shot. It’s a mystery why the boss still has you around.”

It was already a known fact that Kim Taehyung only employed the best of the best.  Wo Bin often wondered what a dimwit like Se Jong was doing in his Taehyung’s fleet.

“Banker. How do you think the boss stashes his money if he doesn’t have people in the bank pulling strings for him?”

“Get to the point, Jong.”

“I said it already I want more. I want you to talk to the boss for me.”

“Consider it never done.”

Wo Bin turned his back and stormed away, leaving the man on the car seething in anger. Little did he know that Se Jong wasn’t as harmless as he seemed.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The courtroom was jam-packed. Your attorney had told you that the first sitting was just to warm the jury up to the facts of the case. But the sheer number of people in the gallery made you feel intimidated. Well, it was a case concerning the Min family. More importantly, Min Yoongi’s wife was on trial.

The prosecutor, Kang Minsook, made his opening statements, addressing the jury and accusing you of grand larceny. You watched on, neurons firing in your brain, as the prosecutor spun a splendidly woven tale of how you married Yoongi for money, felt cheated when he fell into debt, decided it was time to take the money for yourself, and fled.

Kim Taehyung was seated in the spectator area, dressed in his best of blacks, watching on as the prosecutor piled wrong information, wrapping up the lies smoothly with a few bits of truth so that it looked dirty, but believably so.

Your attorney made her opening statements, but they fell flat in front of the prosecutor’s powerful story of lies. One glance at the jury told you that none of them were buying the version of the case that the defense was presenting.

The judge turned to you.

“Mrs. Min, in this accusation of grand larceny, how do you plead?”

Your eyes swept over the jury. No soft glances were aimed towards you. You then looked at Taehyung, sitting with an air of regality as if he were presiding over the courtroom. Stretching yourself to your full height, you replied quietly:

“Not guilty, your Honor.”

A smile slowly spread across Taehyung’s lips.

The prosecutor was on his feet as soon as he got permission to start.

“I’d like to call the prosecution’s first witness, your Honor.”

You strained to see who was the witness. A tall man you knew only too well rose from the bench and took the witness stand. It was surely not the bald man you were expecting to see.

“Mr. Kim, please state your name and occupation for the sake of the court.”

The man looked straight ahead, flexing the muscles in his jaw. It made him look arrogant, giving off vibes of a man not to be messed with.

“I am Kim Namjoon. I’m the Executive Director of Park and Kim Motors Inc.”

“And how were you related to Mr. Min?”

“We were family friends.”

“Please elaborate on the nature of your relationship, Mr. Kim.”

The witness gazed at Minsook, and suddenly his eyes wore a brooding look.

“Min Yoongi and I were friends through our parents’ societal ties. I used to play Chess every evening with Yoongi before he got engaged.”

“So, your friendship with Mr. Min goes long back.” The prosecutor stopped to wipe his spectacles, leaving you wondering what he was up to.

“May I ask, Mr. Kim, as to why you stopped playing Chess with Mr. Min after his engagement?”

Your counsel shot to her feet.

“Objection, your Honor. The prosecutor is wasting the court’s time with irrelevant questions.”

Minsook looked at the judge with surprised eyes.

“But it is a relevant question, your Honor.”

“Overruled.”

Smiling broadly in a way that made your insides turn, the man turned again to his witness.

“Well, Mr. Kim?”

Kim Namjoon stared at you, so much malice concentrated in his eyes.

“His fiancée didn’t want me spending too much time with Yoongi.”

There was a pause. And then with a condescending tone, the next question was thrown:

“Maybe there was an innocent reason, Mr. Kim? Maybe the defendant wanted all the attention to herself?”

Once again, your counsel stood up with a loud “Objection, speculation, your Honor.”

“Sustained.”

With a wicked grin, the prosecutor threw a careless apology to the judge, looking at the witness expectantly.

“I don’t know. But now I know she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed.”

“Why exactly do you say that, Mr. Kim?”

Namjoon glared at you again.

“She didn’t even bother to search for Yoongi. She ran away.”

The prosecutor took a sealed evidence bag in his hand, turning so he was facing both the witness and the jury.

“And who filed the Missing Person report about Mr. Min?”

“I did. She didn’t. Because she was too busy counting the money.”

“Objection!”

“The prosecution will advise their witness not to make assumptive statements.”

But the damage had already been done.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You sat and listened as your husband’s best friend told the court how Yoongi had been increasingly agitated in the months prior to his disappearance.

“He was in so much trouble, it was clear as day,” he said.

“And did he tell you what was bothering him, Mr. Kim?”

Namjoon clenched his jaw again. “He was missing his mother very badly.”

The wicked gleam in Minsook’s eyes returned.

“What happened to his mother, Mr. Kim?”

“His mother had been institutionalized. His wife and mother were not on good terms. It broke Yoongi’s heart to part with his mother like that.”

“So, Mr. Min’s wife sent her mother-in-law away?”

The jury watched Namjoon affirm that with a curt “Yes.” Your attorney made no attempt to object. Things were beginning to look dark for you.

“Why do you think the elder Mrs. Min was sent away, Mr. Kim?”

The judge waited for your counsel to object citing speculation. But she made no move. With a withering glance, the judge advised the defense to not indulge in speculation.

The question was rephrased with a sly grin.

“What did Mr. Min tell you about his mother being sent away?”

Namjoon looked at the jury with sincere eyes.

“He said that his wife was in danger because of his mother. Mrs. Min accused her mother-in-law of trying to stab her with a knife.”

“Did Mr. Min say that the accusation was correct?”

“He only arrived in time to separate them. So, there’s no proof of who instigated the fight.”

Your palms started sweating. A delicate web of lies was being spun around you, and the spider at the center of it all sat watching with quiet enthusiasm.

“Did you know that Mr. Min was in huge financial debt?”

Taehyung watched the witness shake his head, followed by a curt “No.” He slid his hand to his pocket where his phone buzzed. There was a single message on the notification shade.

“Done.”

He looked back at the man who was talking, turning his phone’s display off and allowing himself a smile.

The prosecutor was going on.

“Why didn’t Mr. Min confide in you, if you were such close friends? He could have even borrowed from you.”

Namjoon shifted in his seat, his thick brows crumpling slightly as he processed the question.

“I don’t remember exactly, but I heard in passing that his wife shopped extravagantly. I assume it was his wife who wrung him dry. So, he was probably unable to confide in me about his wife.”

The prosecutor beamed.

“Naturally.”

Your attorney interrupted with an objection citing speculation, which was sustained.

At that, the prosecutor produced another plastic bag of evidence.

“These are the receipts that prove Mrs. Min purchased exquisite jewels, your Honor.” He flourished the bag at the jury, eyes bright with emotion. “Each purchase cost more than the previous one, amounting to millions of dollars.”

Wearing a proud smile, the prosecutor thanked the witness and gave your attorney the nod to cross-examine the witness. The woman slowly got up, adjusting her robes as she approached the witness box.

“Let me start with the easiest question, Mr. Kim.” Her face took on an innocent expression. “Wasn’t Mr. Min already very rich? Why would he ever get into debt? He already owned the Min Group.”

Namjoon looked at her in confusion. “He didn’t own the Min Group. His father did.”

“The late Mr. Min?”

“Yes. Yoongi was only the executive director of the Min Group until his father died.”

You watched your attorney look suddenly uncomfortable. You didn’t understand the need for this line of questioning. The jury looked confused too. Until the next question tore through the silence.

“How did the late Mr. Min die, Mr. Kim?”

“He was involved in a car accident. He died of multiple organ failure.”

“So, both of Mr. Min’s parents were out of the picture shortly after he married the defendant?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Was your own attorney suggesting that-?

“Yes.” Namjoon’s voice interrupted the thoughts racing through your mind.

The judge looked sharply at your counsel. Was she out of her mind, to hand such an insinuating lead to the prosecution?

“Are you going anywhere with this, counsel?”

Your attorney nervously bit her lip.

“No, your honor.”

She turned to Namjoon.

“Couldn’t the defendant have purchased the jewels even when the elder Mr. Min was alive?”

Namjoon wondered if this woman had even researched her case properly. What kind of attorney gave away their client like this in court? He looked at you, weighing his words.

“Mr. Min handled all the finance of the Min family. Yoongi could have bought her the jewels, yes, but his father had to okay any big expenses he made.”

“I see. Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon was excused from the witness stand. You were in utter disbelief. You were being framed. By your own attorney. Taehyung was right. You were going to prison.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

 You couldn’t bring yourself to munch the sandwich that was before you. It was court recess, and your attorney was by your side, eating busily. She was completely oblivious of your apparent resentment towards her.

“How could you give me away like that?”

She looked up; eyebrows raised.

“Like what?”

You had to control yourself from shouting at the top of your lungs. Clutching the table hard, you rocked yourself, trying to be calm.

“You almost accused me of killing my father-in-law.”

She rolled her eyes with a blank “Eh.” On seeing you intensify the burning stare; she grumblingly munched the last bit of her steak.

“You’re already on your way to prison, dearie. Nothing I say or don’t is gonna help you.”

“You are my fucking lawyer!”

A few lawyers seated on the adjacent table murmured in disapproval in your general direction.

“Mind your fucking business!” You shouted at them, eyes blazing in anger. The woman clucked her tongue in disapproval.

“That temper won’t help. Don’t incriminate yourself even more. I did tell you to accept a plea deal, Y/N.”

Three tables away from yours, Kang Minsook was seated with his associates, deep in discussion.

“Something about this case makes me feel weird,” an associate was saying. “Why would the defense point out the senior Mr. Min’s accident? It only makes sense if we do. What is that attorney up to?”

Far back in the cafeteria, Taehyung sipped a cold strawberry milkshake as he watched you. Ugh. He had to endure the disgusting milkshake just for you. For you. Yes, he would do anything for you. But the obvious artificial strawberry flavoring was almost too much. You would pay later for making him drink such cheap stuff.

As his juniors droned on about the case, Minsook glanced over at your gloomy figure staring down at the table. It made him wonder how you were going to handle what was coming next.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You were sure you were going to be called up for cross-examination as soon as the court was in session. Bunching the hem of your skirt tight, you bent your head in apprehension. They were going to call out your name. They were going to prove that you killed Yoongi. They were going to send you to prison. Your knuckles tightened around the fabric, the dampness of your palm transferring onto it.

“The prosecution summons Mr. Kim Taehyung, your Honor.”

All the fear in the world rolled into one tight ball that got caught in your throat. Taehyung was going to testify?

The black-haired man took confident strides as he made his way to the witness stand. Everything about him suggested a successful, genuine, and well-respected man. The ladies in the gallery murmured about how rare it was to see not one but two families in the elite circle pitted against each other. The thumping of your heart was so loud and deafening. Taehyung composed himself with a sincere look in his dark eyes.

“Please state your name and occupation for the sake of the court.”

He raked his eyes through the jury. “I am Kim Taehyung. I am the CEO of Kim Automotive LLC.”

Minsook considered the witness carefully.

“What kind of relationship do you have with the Min family?”

“We were both rich families.” Taehyung masked the bitterness in his voice. “We met at social gatherings.”

“Do you know the defendant?”

“Yes.” The answer was abrupt, leaving unsaid words hanging in the air. The prosecutor pressed on.

“How do you know her?”

Taehyung batted his thick eyelashes innocently, looking square into the eyes of Minsook.

“She came to me trying to pledge the Min estate.”

There was a sharp gasp from the spectators and the low murmuring started to grow louder before the judge pounded his gavel.

The prosecutor waited for all the hushed voices to completely dribble down into sharp silence before asking the burning question:

“The defendant sought you out by herself?”

You closed your eyes lest someone see the beaded drops that were threatening to fall. All the memories of what happened half an hour ago flashed in your mind in full throttle.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You had been walking back to the benches outside the courtroom, when a man bumped into you, causing you to gasp out loud. As you clutched your shoulder and glared crossly at the retreating figure, you noticed chewing gum on your suit. Wincing in disgust, you tried to peel it off when you noticed a small neatly folded bit of paper sticking to it. You opened it, only to find four words written on the slip.

‘Barristers’ chambers No. 3. -KTH’

Turning just in time, your eyes caught Taehyung as he slowly watched you and walked ahead, leading the way.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

“Well, sugar? Ready to change your mind yet?” were the words that greeted you upon entering the chambers.

The blinds were drawn, lending a dark ambiance to the room. Taehyung was half-leaning on the table, supporting the weight of his body on both his arms. He watched you, fascinated by the pencil skirt and the tailored suit jacket that fit you so well. It was a shame that you had to go through all the court drama. The worry on your forehead made him want to reach over and kiss all the tension away. Only if you let him. He sighed.

He pushed himself off the table, reaching you in determined strides, his face alight with emotion. With an arrogant flick of his wrist, he crooned in his deep voice:

“20 more minutes before the court is in session, darling.”

His long fingers gripped your jacket, pulling you into his chest. The fingers roamed on your person, finding purchase at the nape of your neck. The heat of his body accompanied by the firm grip of his fingers left you frozen in place.

Taehyung rang his tongue over his upper lip, curling his mouth in a suggestive smirk.

“So, yes or no?”

“I- How can you make it all go away?” your voice came in a bare whisper.

“Baby, I always get my way. Do you still doubt what I’m capable of?”

He nuzzled his forehead against yours, sighing deeply in content. His eyes fluttered closed, the steady rise and fall of his chest falling in rhythm with yours.

“So? What is it? Endure me, or spend a lifetime in prison wondering what I did with your child?”

“Plea-“

His finger shushed your lips, stopping you from saying anything he didn’t want to hear. His eyes were still closed, but there was a soft smile kindling in the corners of his lips.

“18 minutes left, Y/N. Say it. Yes or No?”

Your mind was a maze of emotions. Say yes and live with Taehyung? The man who killed your husband? You’d have to be insane to do that. Say no and go to prison? What would you do without your baby? Why did all of this happen? Where exactly did you go wrong? Why were you trapped in a room with your husband’s killer draped all over your bosom?

“15 minutes.”

A giant sob rocked your body, tears streaming down your face as you spat it out:

“Yes.”

His eyes opened slowly, a euphoric smile making his face glow in radiance. You could have sworn there was a glossy film on his eyes that suspiciously resembled tears.

“Oh Y/N. I love you.”

He peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and nose, leaning back reflexively at the wetness of your cheeks.

“Why the tears, my sweet?” He brushed the trickling tears with the tip of his thumb. “Anyone would think you hate the idea of marrying me.”

When he didn’t get a reply, his eyes went from soft to dangerous in one quick flash. He leaned over you so that you were arching yourself backward, his hand supporting the small of your back securely. He made as if to kiss your jaw, but flicked his tongue out instead. His hot tongue swept over the trail left by the tears, licking your face from jaw to cheekbone in one long stroke.

His other hand gripped your squirming hips hard, the dangerous glint was fixated on your pupils as he continued his stroke above your eyes, stopping only momentarily when your eyes fluttered at the wet feeling of your lashes. He finished the trail at your eyebrow, landing a soft kiss on the arch of your eyebrow.

“No makeup,” he observed, looking deep into your eyes. “And just as beautiful as always. Delicious too. Pity you didn’t wear lipstick; I’d have loved to have your lip prints on my cock.”

His grip of your waist loosened, and you pushed yourself upright, shuddering all over. You tried to wipe off his saliva with the sleeve of your jacket, but his hand stopped you with a harsh jolt.

“Never, remember, never wipe off anything I give you.”

You glared at him, the sticky wetness still bothering you.

“You disgust me, Kim Taehyung.”

His eyes crinkled in delight. “Aw, I love you too, darling.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung considered the question, ruminating on his thoughts.

“Yes.”

Minsook chose his words carefully.

“Can you tell the court what Mrs. Min said, Mr. Kim?”

“She said ‘My husband is in debt and I want to mortgage our property. He doesn’t want anyone to know, so I came to you instead of going to his friends.’ She looked very upset. “

“And you didn’t talk to Mr. Min about this before agreeing to the request?”

Taehyung looked annoyed.

“I trusted Mrs. Min’s words.” It looked like referring to you by that title made him sick. “I didn’t want her husband to feel uncomfortable, especially because she said that he wanted it to be discreet.”

You felt bile rising to your chest as you watched the bastard stack lie upon lie as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

Minsook considered the witness closely before asking his next question.

“Do you have witnesses to corroborate your story, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung simply smiled, his eyes briefly flitting over to you. He ran his tongue over his lips as if your taste was still on them.

“At least twenty of my staff were present when she arrived at my mansion.”

Wrong. There were more than 50 guys that day when you went to him, dragging a suitcase in your pajamas. Of course, they would testify against you. The case was going to be a nightmare to get out of.

Taehyung was excused in haste. Turning to the judge, Minsook spoke so fast that you almost couldn’t keep up with his flow.

“Your Honor, the state pleads more time to prove that the accused mortgaged the Min property, took the money- “he glanced at the jury with emotion “-and killed her husband to get rid of liabilities. We have enough evidence for reasonable doubt.”

He appealed to the jury with strong words, trying to rock them in his favor.

“An innocent man loses all his money, his wife flees, she never reports him missing, his house is a bloody mess, with blood matching his DNA all over the place. The police found one airplane ticket in the defendant’s personal effects. Just one. Not two, if she is to be believed.”

He let the magnitude of his allusion sink in before throwing the next bombshell.

“As the defense uncovered, the elder Mr. and Mrs. Min were conveniently removed from the defendant’s life. The defense also confirmed that the defendant alleged that her mother-in-law was a threat to her life and sent her away. This raises doubt into the elder Mr. Min’s tragic accident.”

You were shocked into silence; the pain was overwhelming. You felt like you were floating above your body, detached and dead from all the pain and hurt.

Minsook was going on.

“While we can’t definitively prove that the defendant was involved in it, we do have the responsibility of looking keenly into the case at hand to make sure that justice is served.”

There was a brief interruption as the side doors opened, and a man walked in, making straight to your attorney. He handed her a package, whispering into her ear. She immediately stood up and asked for permission to speak. All eyes were on her, and no one noticed the brief looks exchanged between Taehyung and the mysterious messenger. Except you, of course.

“Your Honor, the defense wishes to continue this hearing in camera.”

The judge peered over his glasses at the counsel.

“What is the necessity for it, please?”

You saw the defense attorney wave the package at the jury, addressing the judge and jury at the same time.

“We have proof that Min Yoongi is alive.”

What? You gasped in shock, the news bringing you back to reality and grounding you. The brief respite was replaced with deep hurt when you looked at Taehyung. His single raised eyebrow uttered the unsaid. He had gotten his way. Just like he had said he would.

A loud babble of voices broke out in the spectators’ area, the droning of voices so loud that the judge pounded the gavel furiously.

“And what proof is there to confirm this news?”

Your attorney passed a few pieces of paper over to the clerk.

“These are Min Yoongi’s shell company records that prove that he is in possession of the 50 million dollars, your Honor.” She passed on more papers. “This flight manifest shows that a passenger named Soo Yeongguk was on board, carrying a passport with the same name.”

“And?”

“These surveillance camera pictures show that it was Mr. Min who used a fake passport in the name of Soo Yeongguk to flee the country.”

Minsook sputtered, “But Your Honor, the blood and DNA,” he was wringing his hands, “He couldn’t have flown with those injuries.”

It was explained away by the defense as non-conclusive.

“Mr. Min could have easily planted his blood just like he did everything else to frame his wife, your Honor. There is no hard evidence that he bled to death. Or even died, for that matter.”

“Why has the defense wasted the court’s valuable time when all these facts were already known?”

“We only got confirmation of the false identity a few minutes ago, your Honor.”

The judge rose up to stand, and immediately the whole courtroom followed suit.

“This will be further discussed in camera.”

The judge turned and left, and both the prosecution and defense scurried to fetch their documents and hastened to the judge’s chambers. The bailiff escorted the jury and left.

There was pandemonium and confusion after they left. People were restless, talking in hushed tones about all the drama that had just happened. As for you, it was pure shock that kept you standing on your feet. Shock at how easily justice has been swayed.

It felt like you were treading clouds when you were taken into the judge’s chambers. How could they have cooked up all the proof? You saw your husband’s death with your own eyes. Was there not an inkling of sunshine at the end of the tunnel? Not a drop of justice in the universe?

You felt numb and empty as you stood watching the judge reprimand your counsel for wasting the court’s time and resources. He also fined the defense. You weren’t listening. You didn’t care. Because you were declared innocent. And condemned to marry Taehyung.

You didn’t stay back to see Taehyung and the judge shake hands in solidarity. Nor did you hear Taehyung whisper:

“Good show. Expect the money in one hour.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The cold water pricking your skin did nothing to assuage the hurt eating away at your heart. The incessant flashes of the cameras as you exited the courtrooms, the reporters calling your name out, the overpowering smell of sweat and stale coffee, everything came back with such force that you squatted in the shower, hugging yourself.

You had come back to the hotel alone. No Taehyung. Because he apparently ‘didn’t know you that much.’ Snake. And you couldn’t find a way to escape him. He had kept his side of the bargain. You had to keep yours. The cold water was a far better company than the man outside your door.

“Y/N!” The knocks on the bathroom door were growing impatient. “Come on out already.”

You looked at the flimsy contraption that was dividing you and him. You had to go out. He couldn’t be avoided forever.

���Want me to break the damn door?” The deep voice hollered in irritation.

Taehyung couldn’t wait to see you. You were now his. No force on Earth could take you away from him. Not on his watch. He had already received a text from Wo Bin. So that matter had been taken care of. He was in a jubilant mood.

The lock clicked, and you emerged, wrapped in the hotel’s complimentary white bathrobe. Taehyung thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Wet hair clumped in loose coils around your shoulders, slowly dripping water on the robe. His heart sang, believing that you had been cleansed of Min Yoongi and his touches. You looked angelic; damp body covered in nothing but a robe. A strange feeling raged up from his gut, catching in his throat and smothering him in emotion.

His hand reached you as if it had a mind of its own. The fabric was rough. Wouldn’t it chafe your delicate skin? He balled his fist to contain his annoyance. His slender fingers bunched around the sash, pulling you into his arms. He gasped at how cold you were.

“You’re so cold, Y/N.”

Your face was blank. He got no response. Tracing his steps backward, he landed on the bed, pulling you into his lap.

“So cold,” he repeated again, gently nudging the robe away from your shoulder blades to press soft kisses. You squirmed, and he didn’t like it.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, cupping your jaw.

The hurt was too much and you broke.

“It’s- I – Yoongi.”

He held you in his arms, waiting for the violent sobs to subside, gently shushing you. He didn’t like that you were still thinking of Yoongi. But he had foreseen this. And he had already made arrangements.

“What about Yoongi, baby?”

You sniffed, unsure if you were supposed to tell him. Hell, what else did you have to lose?

“He- I- “More sobs and hiccups before you continued: “-I want to see him.”

He blew out his cheeks softly.

“And what good will that do?”

He attempted to wipe your tears, but you slapped his hand away.

“I’m his wife.”

“Not anymore. He’s dead.”

The words twisted into your heart like a cold iron dagger. The fighter in you returned with a vengeance.

“But Yoongi is alive. At least legally. You just proved that in court.”

He chuckled, the vibrations of his chest transferring onto your own body, sweeping you into the reverberation too.

“Yes. And unfortunately, he died an hour ago.”

You tried to push yourself off him in vain. The hold grew tight, and his eyes became harder. Your voice broke again.

“What do you mean?”

He cradled your head into the crook of his neck, and you revolted angrily by hitting his jaw and pulling back.

“Tell me, you fucking prick!”

He grinned, his irises dark, the danger swimming in them climbing out and coloring his features with malice.

“You’ll find out yourself.”

He sat motionless, looking into your eyes, as you hurled cuss words at him, shaking his shoulders, demanding an answer. You grew tired eventually, and stopped your tirade, choosing to go silent instead.

It was all quiet in the room, with Taehyung holding you in his lap, sniffing your wet hair, when the ringing of a cell phone screeched and cut the silence. The sound was coming from his pocket.

“Take it,” he urged, his voice dark and mysterious. “It’s for you.”

Grimacing, you dug your fingers into his pockets, scowling when he moaned at your touch. Upon finding the phone, you accepted the call and breathed out a shaky “Hello?”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I don’t have the faintest idea why Yoongi did this,” Mrs. Park said, dabbing her eyes as she patted your hand. “He was such a good boy.” She shook her head sadly. “Maybe I didn’t know him that well after all.”

To say that her words amplified your hurt would be an understatement. You were surrounded by people who were willing to believe that Yoongi had deserted you, ending up dead by a twist of fate. Your Yoongi would never do that. Never.  Yet, the groups of people clustered in the hall seemed to think otherwise.

You looked around at the familiar yet strange faces. Did any of them even care? You thought not. And yet again, the man who destroyed your husband made his appearance, weaving his way through the flood of faces.

“My heartfelt condolences, Mrs. Min.”

You shook your hand free from his clasp. The venomous anger bubbling inside you made you choke on your words as you bit out a forced “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Talk about Karma,” he went on, unmindful of your hostile countenance. “He left you desolate and Karma caught up with him.”

Before you could snap, Mrs. Park nodded her head, acknowledging his words.

“Mr. Kim is right, child. Yoongi got into trouble because he left you. No decent man fakes his death and pins the blame on his wife.”

She became agitated, the sorrow of losing her best friend’s son hitting her hard.

“I wish he hadn’t gotten involved with the mafia, though. He might have come back to you. Alas.”

More tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to Mrs. Park. How you wished you could scream that Yoongi was dead only because of Taehyung!

“I’ll call on Sung-Hee at the Klammer when I leave.” She patted your shoulder delicately.

You nodded with a soft whisper: “Please give her my love.”

Kim Namjoon had come to bid his friend farewell. He was silent as he surveyed the closed coffin, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he controlled his choked emotions. He paused to hiss in your ear when he was leaving:

“You killed him, bitch.”

The funeral was very difficult to get through. People kept walking up to you, expressing their disappointment at the way your husband had met his death. And all the while the killer stood at a corner of the hall, not caring in the least about the gross injustice Min Yoongi was being subjected to, even in his death.

When everyone left, you were standing alone in the hall, working up the heart to bid goodbye to the love of your life. Taehyung had left long ago, playing his part of an innocent visitor.

Your fingers traced the wood, feeling the ridges and following the embossed floral patterns. It was going to be very hard. Biting your lip to contain the trembling, you slid a finger under the coffin lid.

“I would advise against that.”

You looked up with a start. It was him again. You glared at him as your fingers pried under the lid again. He stepped forward with an urgent whisper.

“Y/N, don’t.”

You had already seen the worst happen right before your eyes. What more would frighten you?

Taehyung wasn’t fast enough, and you had already screamed and leaped back when he arrived at your side.

“I told you not to.” His arms embraced you, holding you tight while you continued screaming your heart out. You turned on him with vengeful fury, hitting his chest, throwing a volley of punches with your balled fists. He let you punch him, not even trying to shield himself.

When you were spent from all the screaming and punching, he hugged you as softly as he could.

“I hired the best mortician. But-” he sighed heavily “-yeah; Min still looks bad.”

He was met with no response. He continued hugging you, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“But-”

He bent down to look at your red eyes. “Hm?”

“Where’s his…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “… his wedding ring?”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

It didn’t matter. You knew that the man inside the coffin was Yoongi. You would recognize those fingers from anywhere. Those long beautiful fingers that had traced lines of love on your skin ever so often. He was indeed gone.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was silent as he watched the numbers on the elevator as it climbed up to his penthouse office. It had been three days since he had last seen you. You were at his mansion, alright, but you had locked yourself in a room and had refused to come out. He hadn’t seen you ever since the funeral. He idly wondered if you were still wearing the black dress from that evening. A small conscious cough interrupted his thought train.

So Na Yeon, his personal secretary, nervously fished in her pocket for a kerchief. “Please excuse me.”

He didn’t react. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone. Her lipstick was a shade too bright for his taste. She was interesting to look at. But no one could ever match to you. And thus, he found himself thinking of you yet again.

When the elevator dinged and opened, she followed Taehyung briskly, sailing into his office right behind him. She waited for him to be seated, and then got on with briefing him about his appointments for the day. But when Taehyung waved her away, she remained in place, biting her lip anxiously.  

“Well?”

She creased her forehead, deciding if she should tell him.

“Mr. Wo Bin reported that one of the men is rebelling, sir.”

“In what way?”

“It appears that he asked for a raise and Mr. Bin turned him down.”

“What did Bin say about it?”

She shook her head.

“He said that the man isn’t good enough and that he’s already a waste of your money.”

Taehyung lost interest. He wanted to get his work done with so he could think of you more.

“If Bin said so, I don’t doubt his opinion. Tell him to handle the guy in whichever way he sees fit.”

“Yes, sir.”

She turned and left. And Taehyung noticed her short business skirt for the first time. She seemed really proud of her figure. And then she faded out and his mind wandered to you once again.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You could hear him fiddling with the doorknob. You knew he had a master key. You had expected to see him break into the room angrily as soon as you had slammed yourself in. But Taehyung did nothing of that sort.

Every morning, before he left, he would try the doorknob. Every evening, as soon as he arrived, he would do it again. There would be heavy sighs outside the door and he’d leave. It was like a ritual, and it went on for six days since the funeral.

On the seventh day, however, he lost his patience. He had waited and given you time to come back to him. He wanted you to walk into his arms willingly. But his patience was wearing thin.

“Open the door.”

He was pressing his forehead against the wood, gritting his teeth in suppressed anger. When there was no sound of movement, his voice rose to a high growl.

“I said open! Now!”

His large palms made contact with the wood as he pounded on the door. Suddenly, the door gave way and opened, the darkness inside the room making it hard for him to see you. It didn’t help that you were wearing black too. At last, he made out your outline.

He reached over to flick the light on, and gasped as soon as the light hit you. There were deep dark circles under your eyes. The straps of the dress were loose and ready to fall from your shoulders.

“God, Y/N, you look like Death.”

He cautiously approached forward, running his eyes over the clavicles that were jutting out sharply.

“It’s been six days. Seven, almost.” He took your hand, pressing it gently. “Come out.”

“No.”

Your voice was so low that he tilted his head to catch the words.

“You need to eat.”

“No.”

He tugged on your hand hard, anger rising in his chest.

“It’s not good for- ” he eyed your belly, “-that thing inside you.”

Hatred lit a spark in your blank eyes.

“It’s a baby,” you hissed, pushing against his chest with all your might. “It’s Min Yoongi’s baby.”

“Yeah, whatever. Do you want it to die? Come out and fucking eat.”

The glaring eyes were better than the blank ones, he noted. He liked you better when you were all animated and furious.

“I wasn’t starving myself. The mini-fridge…“

“I don’t think fruit would nourish your bastard enough. Stop arguing and come out.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung knew the answer before he even asked the question out loud.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You were dressed in a soft cashmere sweater and jeans. Yoongi used to love that sweater. He would always comment on how it made you look like a fairy cloud.

Taehyung knew the clothes only too well. He had seen you wear the sweater on multiple dates with Yoongi while he was following you around. It made him mad to see you still dressing up for him.

You didn’t even turn his way, throwing the answer at him sullenly:

“My husband’s grave.”

Taehyung leaned back on the sofa, propping his legs up on the coffee table.

“And who exactly is buried there?”

You turned and stared at him, confused.

“Min Yoongi?”

Taehyung chuckled heartily, crossing his arms and gazing fondly at you.

“Oh honey, how naïve you are!”

“What do you mean?” Anxiety pooled in your chest as he continued chuckling without answering.

He took his sweet time to answer, leaving you standing puzzled.

“Do you honestly think I’d let you visit that bastard in his grave, Y/N? Just so you can make him a martyr? Do you think I’m a fool?”

“What- what do you mean?” you repeated again, feeling your chest tighten.

“He isn’t buried there. There’s another dead guy matching his description buried in his stead.”

“But- the coffin-“

“Oh, yeah it was him in the coffin, all right.” He yawned lazily. “Switched bodies on the way to the cemetery.”

He watched all the emotions flashing on your face, the quiver of your lips, the unblinking eyes as you grasped all the information he had just stated. Finally, a cold blank stare replaced the myriad of emotions that had lit up your face. Slowly, you walked back into the bedroom, locking yourself shut. Taehyung sighed deeply. You were finally his.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

It was obvious to Taehyung that you were suffering him just for the sake of your baby. It was bittersweet to him that the only reason you would stay alive was Yoongi’s child growing inside you. He wished fervently to get rid of that tiny Min seed, but he knew the aftermath would be disastrous.

You talked to him in barbed tones only if it was absolutely necessary. The rest of the time, it was as if he was invisible to you. He had forced you to sleep in the master bedroom with him. But it hurt him to see the wide gap in the sheets between him and you every night.

Sometimes, he would turn in his sleep and a finger would brush against you. And he’d stay wide awake watching you huddle on the corner of the bed, sobbing quietly. It became increasingly apparent that you weren’t sleeping at all. If he so much as shifted in his side of the bed, you would immediately flinch.

Part of him wanted to understand, to hold you, and say that he loved you and wouldn’t hurt you. Another part of him was fueled by jealousy, that even in death, Min Yoongi was winning your attention. It was frustrating to him that his enemy wasn’t alive. Who could fight a dead man’s memory?

It was that part of him that broke loose, when he saw you crawl on your side of the bed, wearing an oversized hoodie that reeked of another man. Not letting him touch you was already a sore point. And the hoodie just made him go ballistic.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Huh?” You looked down at Yoongi’s hoodie. “I am cold.”

“Wear something else or strip naked for all I care.” His nose was flaring with the exertion it took to control himself.

You glared at him for a hot second.

“Fuck yourself.”

Without another word, you turned your back to him.

There was a sudden jolt as he pranced to your side, pulling you so you were lying on your back. His whole countenance was flashing with murderous rage. His knees were on either side of you, his arms pinning your shoulders to the bed. Hot breath fanned your face as he dipped his head down.

“Throw everything away. Everything that belonged to Min.”

You stared at him in defiance.

“What about me? I belong to him.”

His lips twitched ominously.

“He is dead.”

You didn’t back down in the slightest.

“Yes. You killed him.”

You could see the internal struggle he was going through to stop himself from hitting you.

He took a deep ragged breath and dipped his head even closer to your face.

“Listen, Y/N. Everything I did, I did because I love you.” He gripped your jaw hard when you rolled your eyes. “I went through a lot to get you. And I will not let you screw this up for me.” He paused with a haunted look in his eyes.

“Why is it so hard to love me?”

He looked at your lips as if they were curling around the words that would be his lifeline.

“Because you are not Yoongi. You killed him.”

His hot sigh fell on your lips, the heat sucking all the moisture from the soft flesh. You were scared that he was going to kiss you.

He leaned back a bit, catching hold of the hem of the hoodie.

“Are you going to remove this, or should I?”

He got off you, turning his back to you as he rummaged in his closet. Without looking back, he tossed his grey oversized sweater at you. He didn’t wait before adding:

“Wear that or sleep naked. Your choice.”

It gave him wicked joy to see you dressed in his clothes. His scent would be all over you, washing away that bastard’s. He made a note to throw away everything you owned and buy you new ones. Nothing should remind you of Min. Even the most inconsequential thing would have to go. He looked at your back wistfully. Everything but that thing inside your belly.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Two weeks passed uneventfully. Taehyung had given you a restricted phone. You could only call Taehyung with it. Calls to Hoseok and others never went through. You felt like your world had suddenly shrunk to one individual.

There was nothing to do in that big house. You weren’t allowed to work, because, apparently you were ‘not ready yet.’ Sometimes, it crossed your mind that you hadn’t received any letters or calls from your clients and friends. But it was probably because Taehyung screened everything. You were sure he’d filter the air you breathed if he had a way to.

You wondered how your mother-in-law was. Why was it that she went crazy but you didn’t? Had your love for Yoongi not been strong enough? Were you not anchored deeply with Yoongi as Sung-Hee had been with her husband?

Would you end up in a room next to your Yoongi’s mother? But you were sure they would take away your child if you went to the Klammer Institute. No, you shivered in disgust. You would never let Taehyung destroy the little piece of Yoongi left in the world.

The next morning, you emerged from the bathroom, body drained in exhaustion. Nothing you ate seemed to stay in your tummy. Wearily, you padded over to the full-length mirror in the dressing table.

You were pulling the shirt up and gazing at your belly when there was a click behind you. Taehyung stood immobile at the doorway, mouth agape.

His eyes were fixed on the mirror, looking at the tiny flab on your erstwhile flat belly. You had been only a couple months pregnant when Yoongi died, so the bump hadn’t shown. But nature was going her way, and soon you would be heavily pregnant, belly rich and round with child.

Taehyung gazed silently, not uttering a word. It was as if he were on mute. When he opened his mouth, at last, the words that shot out were:

“Time to marry.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Your plea to wait longer fell on deaf ears. Taehyung didn’t want to delay marrying you. He wanted to protect his ego. He would marry you before your pregnancy showed.

You pointed out that people would call you an unscrupulous woman who remarried even before flowers took root on her husband’s grave.

“Do you want everyone to hate me?”

He didn’t even flinch.

“Everyone already hates me. At least you’ll be on my side.”

No matter how you pleaded, he refused to listen. He reminded you of the jail time he had saved you and your baby from.

“It wouldn’t take me a minute to get you arrested again, you know.”

He looked at your midsection. “Want me to sign up for foster care?”

There was no way out. You slumped your shoulders in resignation. It was part of the deal, after all.

“Nothing lavish.” You licked your lips nervously. “Just take me to the fucking courthouse and get it over with.

Taehyung smiled, eyes dancing. The sunny smile lit his face aglow, a strange softness shading his sharp features.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Y/N, you really are a mystery. So soon?”

Mrs. Kim didn’t care to lower her voice.

“Leave her alone, Mrs. Kim.”

Hoseok’s tone was clipped, annoyance evident on his face.

Bo Na was holding your hand, patting it slowly, her eyes assuring you that she understood why you had to do what you did.

Taehyung smiled, finger grazing the rim of the champagne glass. He was wearing the tux he had bought months before you married Yoongi. He had spent countless nights running his fingers over the dreamy satin, his mind dreaming up heady concoctions of how sparkling you would look as you walked down the aisle, on his arm. He had woven all his dreams into the very fabric of that tuxedo, and the fact that he had, at last, attained what he wanted, made his heart warm.

“To tell you the truth, Mrs. Kim,” he sipped some champagne, waiting until all the attention was on him, “Y/N is pregnant with Min Yoongi’s child.”

Bo Na gasped, her hand flying to her mouth to contain the shock.

Mrs. Kim looked just as shocked. She couldn’t stop lowering her eyes to your belly.

Taehyung continued:

“She needs a person by her side, especially after losing Yoongi so tragically. I was Yoongi’s friend, and I can’t let Y/N suffer by herself.”

You wished the champagne were laced with poison. When had you become so weak? How was it that you let him puppeteer you into silence? Should you have tried and killed him before things got so complicated?

“Lost in thought, lamb?”

Taehyung grinned. No water on Earth would have doused the fiery glare you threw his way. Mrs. Kim called out to her son who was passing by.

“Namjoon!”

Yoongi’s best friend clenched his jaw and exhaled loudly before making his way to his mother.

“Yes, mom.”

“You were wrong about Y/N, boy. The poor girl is pregnant.”

His thick eyebrows arched at you in surprise.

His mother went on.

“And Taehyung only wanted to help, poor darling. Such a good man, he is.”

Namjoon’s eyes locked onto Taehyung’s. The air felt electric as they stared each other down. Namjoon deflated eventually.

“Yeah, I’m sure he is. Excuse me, please.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

There were no words to describe how embarrassed you were by the whole wedding affair. Everything was the opposite of nothing lavish. The decorations were all extravagant, sophisticated, and gaudy in the face of the fact that you had been widowed only months ago.

Taehyung had invited every person who had attended your first wedding with Yoongi. It was almost as if he wanted to flaunt you and brag about how he had fooled them all right under their noses. He was everywhere, flitting from one guest to the other, flashing his boxy smile, playing his part of the perfect host.

The guests were confused if they had to offer their condolences or wishes. It was very awkward for you, the little rip in your heart deepening with each guest’s flustered greeting.

Wow. Everyone pretended as if Yoongi never existed. As if he had never been killed. Killed by the man who danced through the halls as if he were the epitome of innocence.

Hoseok took your hand, leaning in to whisper.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could kill Taehyung.”

You blinked away the tears.

“Yeah, so do I.”

The sound of a spoon tapping a wine glass cut through the chatter.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please!”

Everyone stopped chatting and looked expectantly at Taehyung’s uncle, who was all smiles.

“I’d like to say what a fine boy Taehyung is, deciding to take Y/N under his wing, after the terrible misfortune that befell her.” He raised his voice to a higher note. “Especially because he didn’t want her child to be fatherless.”

If you ever had the power to vanish, you would have loved to use it at that moment. There were several gasps and turned heads that looked your way.

“Congratulations, to the new couple!”

Taehyung’s uncle raised his glass, and scattered applause sounded, and grew louder as people digested the news.

Taehyung stood with his head bent, a shy smile painting his cheeks pink.

That devil.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Going through the whole ordeal of the wedding was emotionally taxing. Every little thing about the ceremony reminded you of the gummy-smiled beautiful man you had married with so much love. When Taehyung slid the ring on your finger, you felt a wave of nausea that certainly wasn’t related to your pregnancy. He lowered his head to kiss your knuckles, loving the way the beautiful cushion-cut diamond adorned your pretty hand.

As you were walking out, trying not to cringe at Taehyung’s grasp on the small of your hip, a woman stumbled and dropped her glass, splashing wine all over the front of your dress.

“Oh! I am so sorry!”

Your brain couldn’t get irritated enough to lose your temper. Not when a man had already forcibly married you and assassinated your darling Yoongi’s character just before your eyes.

“It’s alright, Na Yeon.”

Taehyung waved her away, not angry in the least. He then leaned in to whisper in your ear:

“I’m going to rip that dress off your body anyway.”

The ride to his mansion was the longest. You had been living there, yes, but as Mrs. Min. You had hidden behind that name as if it were a consecrated circle. But this time, you were going as Taehyung’s bride. Nothing was going to stop him from claiming you.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Kim,” Taehyung sang to you as the car pulled into the driveway.

“Taehyung-“

He laid his slim finger on your lip, shushing you.

“Call me Tae.”

You scoffed in disbelief.

“You really think I’d call you that? What, do you think I love you?”

He grinned happily.

“You do. You just don’t accept it yet.”

There was a battle of stares and you turned on your heel, stomping away to change out of the stupid wine-soaked wedding dress.

It was confusing when you stopped outside the bedroom door. Because the knob wouldn’t turn. You were fiddling with it for a good five minutes when Taehyung’s chuckle fell in your ears.

He was leaning against the banister, a set of shiny keys in his hand.

“It’s customary to give the lady of the house all the keys,” he drawled, twirling the silvery loop that jangled in his hand. “Our bedroom is upstairs, Mrs. Kim. Newly decorated just for us.”

Irritated, you plucked the keys out of his fingers, huffing your way up to the damned bedroom. When you threw the door open, you understood that he was telling the truth.

The whole room was painted in pastel cream colors, books and music stacked neatly on the glass shelves. There was a huge closet, with mirrors for doors. The closet directly overlooked the giant white bed. Rose petals were strewn across the bed to make a big flower heart.

You knew he was behind you when you heard the brisk step of his shoe.

“Like it?”

You could almost hear his smile in those words.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The petals stuck onto your thighs as you rolled out of bed. Taehyung was sleeping, his chest pressing against the bed, his arm strewn over a pillow. His rhythmic breathing confirmed that he was asleep.

You shuddered at the shrunken petals, crushed under the weight of your bodies. Taehyung’s dark hair fanned over his arm, and you could see his veins bulging underneath his skin. So strong. Yet, he hadn’t thrown himself at you as you had feared.

In fact, he had gone straight to shower upon entering the new bedroom. You had changed into shorts. Strangely, all your long night pants were missing from the new closet.

Taehyung hadn’t made any sudden moves. He had emerged from the bathroom, stood before the closet-mirrors, tightened the cords of his pajamas, and turned to you.

You had been absolutely sure that you were going to be claimed harshly. But he had simply knelt down, both hands on either side of you, and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. Accompanied by the distinct sniff of his habitual smelling of your hair. And then he had risen up and gone to his side of the bed.

Sneaking a look at the man sleeping across the bed, you couldn’t understand why he hadn’t thrown himself at you forcibly. Had he not done it in the glass room?

The bedside clock ticked on, and you decided to pay your parents a visit. You hadn’t been to see them in a long time, ever since Yoongi had started having money troubles. The last time you had visited them, you were Mrs. Min. Something inside you just wanted to get away from the sudden overload of being married to your husband’s killer. Your mind craved something to keep you from going insane. Something that was a constant in the troubled times of uncertainty.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Months ago

Yoongi was at home, all alone. An empty whiskey bottle was lying on the table, rolling to the sides a teeny bit every now and then. He couldn’t believe he had gotten into so much trouble. All those years of hard work his parents and grandparents had put into the Min Group, all the effort, it was all falling apart. Because of him. The heir who wrecked the family. He could almost see the headlines in the newspaper.

His breath was probably smelling like whiskey. You would find out. He sighed.

You. Beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful you. Why had things gone so bad? Why did he ever trust Wo Bin, that bastard?  A thousand questions raced in his mind, the drunken haze making them even louder. How could he ever tell you that he had let you down? That he had let his entire family down?

He glanced at the digital clock on the counter. 3 pm. You would be home soon. Good gosh, was it Wednesday already? Kim Taehyung had threatened to show up at the Min house if he didn’t pay up by Friday. What was he going to do in such little time?

A clang of the doorbell startled him. You carried your own key. Who else was at the door?

Yoongi stood up and the headrush made him stumble around a bit. When he finally opened the door, a delivery girl was standing outside. She was carrying a bouquet of lilies. Lilies. They were your favorite. He was confused. Who sent you lilies at your home?

“Delivery for Mrs. Kim?”

Yoongi stood stunned. What the hell?

“You’ve got the wrong address.”

He tried to shut the door, but the girl persisted in a shrill voice.

“A person called Y/N? Does she live here?”

“Yeah- why…?”

The girl thrust the bouquet in his hands, grinning cheerfully.

“Then these are for her.”

She hopped away, leaving him standing at the porch, wondering what in the world just happened.

When Yoongi went back in, his gaze fell on the little card attached to the bow on the stems. It read:

‘To the future Mrs. Kim.

All the love, KTH.’

The words made Yoongi so angry that his fingers started shaking alarmingly. There was a band of sweat under his collar, even though the AC was on full blast. Anger coursing through his veins, Yoongi clawed at the card and tore it to pieces. He had never been so insulted in his life.

Outside, the delivery girl dialed a number and waited for the man to pick up.

“I delivered the flowers to him, Mr. Bin.”

She paused to listen.

“Yeah, he was alone.”

Yoongi was on his way to dump the flowers in the trash can when his phone rang. Swearing under his breath, he threw the bouquet on the counter and picked up.

“Min Yooooongiii…”

The deep booming voice drawled in his ear. Yoongi felt his cheeks heat up. Sweat was beginning to trickle down his forehead.

“Quit playing your games with me, Taehyung.”

There was a throaty chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Do you think your wife will like the lilies?”

“I swear I’ll-“

“I am sure she received another delivery at her studio.”

Yoongi went mute. What did the card on that one say? He started panicking.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Kim Taehyung.”

The caller laughed in a way designed to specifically irritate Yoongi.

“We’ll see. Remember you only have till Friday to pay up.”

The line disconnected and Yoongi was left fuming, unable to collect his thoughts. He needed alcohol. Something. Anything. Just to douse the white-hot fire burning in his chest.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

“Mrs. Min?”

You had moved into the new studio only a couple months back. You primarily operated from home, but the studio was needed when you met other clients. Yoongi had set you up with a beautiful studio complete with hand-picked designers who assisted you.

“Yes?”

“Miss Yung is requesting to meet you tomorrow, for lunch.”

You looked at the calendar. Thursday was when you always went to see your parents. But Yung Min-Ji was a wonderful client, and you did have a lot to discuss with her about the styling of her new condo.

“Tell her I’m available.”

“But your usual schedule-“

You smiled lightly.

“I’ll go today instead. No worries.”

It wasn’t a sentiment to go only on Thursdays. It just happened to be that your schedules were light on that day of the week. You glanced at the time. 2 pm. You could use some fresh air.

There was a cool breeze when you stopped by the florist to get your mom’s flowers- carnations. You were walking absent-mindedly, coming to a stop in front of the headstone. You looked at the grave, confusion creasing your eyebrows.

There was a beautiful bouquet of white carnations laid neatly on each of your parents’ graves. The flowers were fresh as if someone had just laid them out. But no one was around. You were the only living person in the cemetery. You knelt down, finding a pool of molten wax. It was hard to the touch. Someone had come by earlier. Further inspection showed that both graves had indeed had carnations and one small lit candle on them. But, they were left by whom?

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

The sound of gravel crunching under the tires of your car woke Yoongi up. His head was throbbing. He held his head, steadying himself before getting up.

“Baby, I’m home!” your melodic voice chirped at the door.

Before he even got to hug you, he was met with your screeches, as you were hollering in excitement. You were jumping up and down in his arms, eyes shining in delight.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongiii-yaahhhh,” you crooned, grinning eagerly, “The flowers- was that you?”

There was a catch in his throat while Yoongi racked his brain.

“Uh- yes. Liked them?”

You swung yourself on his arms, giggling.

“Like? I loved them!”

Oh shit. He remembered the forgotten lilies on the counter. He had meant to throw them away. Damn. How would he explain them?

“Y/N,” he whispered, catching hold of you. “Go on and shower, I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, suddenly transported back to reality.

“Yoongi- you smell of whiskey.”

He turned his back to you, advancing in swift steps to grab the cursed lilies.

“I’ll be back.”

You made your way to the bedroom, mind still buzzing in happiness. You hadn’t even looked at the lilies.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Present day

The soil was wet under your shoes, from all the dew. The guards had shut up and let you leave on foot, without insisting on approval from their boss. Fucking privilege of being Mrs. Kim, ugh.

The faint smell of cut grass kissed your nostrils as you walked absently. It was still early in the morning, and the cool air helped ease your feverish tension. A man was raking leaves near your parents’ graves.

You walked faster, reaching his side just in time to see a bouquet of shrunken white carnations, withered and sad. There was molten wax on the cold marble, just like there had been before. The man sank to his knees, scraping off the wax gently. He didn’t even look your way.

But the flowers and candles? Who was it?

“Excuse me, um, sir?”

He raised his head, one good eye looking expectantly at you, while the other was clouded with cataract.

“Yes, miss?”

You gestured towards the graves.

“Those flowers… do you know who-“

“Aye, them flowers,” he shook his head, “I don’t know nothin’ about who leaves them.”

You crinkled your forehead.

“But you were cleaning the wax, so I-“

“Aye, miss. I been paid to keep these two graves clean. Good money for an odd job.”

Your heart started fluttering wildly.

“Paid? By whom?”

He made a stern face as if he were concentrating.

“Dunno. I been paid to take care of the graves as long as I live.”

He resumed scraping the wax, talking slowly.

“Man paid five grand, one time. Said ‘em graves should be kept spick and span.” He paused to turn around self-consciously. “He said he be checking on me, makin’ sure I ain’t skipped town with them money.”

You didn’t know what to think. It was a weird piece of information to process.

“How long since he paid you, sir?”

He closed his eyes, maybe he was thinking.

“Four years? Maybe five-ish,” he said when he finally opened them.

“Miss, tell him I be doing the work all right!”

The man hollered at your retreating back, nervous that you were spying on him.

You nodded, walking rapidly away. It was incomprehensible. It was a dream. Yes. You had probably dreamt it up. You would wake soon and find your husband’s killer draped all over you.

When you returned gloomily to the mansion, Taehyung was lounging on the sofa, flicking through the pages of a business magazine. You ignored him and made straight for the bedroom. It was only when you hit the shower that you remembered what day it was. Thursday.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I’m going back to work.”

Taehyung lowered his glass, eyelashes almost dusting the rim of the glass.

“Doing what?”

You folded your hands, staring him down.

“Designing homes and offices.”

He grinned, sipping juice innocently as you tapped your foot in impatience.

“And who do you think wants Mrs. Kim to design for them?”

You hadn’t forgotten that the title alienated you from the rest of the elite. But hadn’t you a uniqueness of your own? You were sure they wouldn’t discriminate you. They were all your friends and Yoongi’s, weren’t they?

“I have friends.”

He took another long sip, smacking his lips just to annoy you.

“No, baby, you don’t. To them, you’re nothing but a traitor.”

“I’m not.” You were sure that he was just manipulating you into his twisted theories.

He tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“Don’t believe me?” He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, extending it to you. “Go on, try calling someone.”

Your instinct was to dial Hoseok’s number. But you knew he would stay by your side forever. Calling him would be like mistrusting his friendship. You thought hard. Maybe you could call Mrs. Park.

You dialed her number feverishly, hoping she would pick up. You didn’t know you were holding your breath until the line clicked and a voice spoke out:

“Yes? Mrs. Park here.”

“Oh hello, Mrs. Park, I’m Y/N, how ar-“

She cut you off swiftly.

“Y/N? What is it, child?”

You nervously looked at Taehyung out of the corner of your eyes. He was leaning back, a bored look on his face as he blew raspberries. Twisting the hem of your tee, you chuckled consciously.

“I was wondering if you knew anyone who’s looking to-,” you licked your dry lips, “You know, to redo their apartments and stuff.”

There was an awkward pause.

“Ah Y/N, I wish I could help you. But you know, Jaewon found a new designer who specializes in Earth tones and my daughter says it’s the craze right now, so-“

“I see.”

Mrs. Park heaved a deep sigh.

“So, yeah, everyone is more interested in following that trend, naturally,” She was rambling to neutralize the awkwardness, “Besides, you’re pregnant and… I hope you don’t mind, dearie.”

“No, Mrs. Park, it’s fine.”

“Call me if you want anything, Y/N.” More like ‘Don’t disturb me again, Y/N.’

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You couldn’t bear to look at the gloating face that smirked at you. He was right. Everyone loved you only when you had been a Min. But as soon as Yoongi died, their allegiance had crumbled to dust.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to hate them, though. You had married Taehyung just months after Yoongi died. Married Kim Taehyung, of all people. It was a wonder that Mrs. Park had even picked the call.  

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Every morning, you stood before the mirror, gazing at your belly. There was no significant bump, but you could just feel the little piece of Yoongi stir inside you. It made your heart sing. How happy Yoongi would have been! How wonderful life would have been with him! Raising your child together, loving each other, looking into each other’s eyes, watching your skin sag and wrinkle; growing old, but your love never lessening.

It was ironic that every day felt like an eon with Taehyung. You were in constant tension around him, like an elastic band stretched to its maximum limit. Even his slightest moves made you nervous. If he reached over for salt, you were left trembling. If he walked out of the shower in his boxers, your heart raced. Everything about him kept you on edge, scared that he would pounce on you without a moment’s notice.

Things came to a head the next Tuesday. You were getting ready to go out for your doctor’s appointment. Taehyung emerged from the shower, rubbing the towel against his wet hair as he walked to the closet mirrors, standing next to you.

His studied your yellow floral dress, only the slightest hint of belly was proof that another human was growing inside you. A tight thread of jealousy snapped inside Taehyung. Yoongi had made love to you, cummed in you, leaving you pregnant. He fumed in jealousy, getting into his pants and picking out his shirt.

He was adjusting his tie when he saw you swirl the tube of lip balm. The same brand you had used for years, lending that delicious glossy sheen on your lips that kept haunting him in his dreams. His tie was left forgotten, and he reached his hand out to gently pull you closer. The sudden rigidity of your body reminded him of a startled kitten.

“What, babe?” He crooned, drawing you nearer. “Go on, wear it.”

When you didn’t comply, he plucked the tube out of your fingers, smearing a glossy coat of lip balm on your lips. He could see the visible heaving of your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Pinning you with your back against the closet mirror, he dipped his head to ghost his breath over your lips. The fruity smell made him go crazy.

Without warning, his tongue licked a hot trail over your upper lip, following the natural curve of your cupid’s bow. He smacked his lips, groaning in lust, and went in to savor your lower lip too.

“Your lips look better with my saliva, baby,” he murmured, gently nibbling on your lips and sucking on the plump soft flesh.

He was heady with need, nibbling harder and pushing himself closer against you. When you tried pushing against his chest, he got mad.

“How long do you think I’ll wait? Huh?” His voice was thick in a mix of anger and want. “Think I’d just fuck my hand forever?”

Your throat felt hollow and itchy when you voiced out:

“I don’t want to-“

His face crumpled in anger.

“Well, too bad, because I want to.”

Still in his pants, he thrust his clothed crotch into your pelvis, the floral skirt allowing him to feel the mound between your legs. He used his knee to keep your legs spread, while he went on thrusting against you. The friction made him curse out loud. One of his hands sneaked to catch hold of your throat, and he nestled his forehead against your shoulder blade, never stopping his thrusts.

His moans grew louder, quicker, and more intense. He bit the soft skin on your shoulder as he reached his climax. He panted in your ear, deep breaths reverberating through his body. With a heavy moan, he licked the bite mark and straightened his back, watching you warily.

Your eyes were closed, face frozen and impassive.

He hadn’t been able to control himself. When he thought about it, he hadn’t even touched his dick once, and yet his seed was all over his underwear. That was how much you affected him.

When he pushed off of you, you still hadn’t opened your eyes.

“Thought I’d change,” he drawled lazily, biting his lip. “But on second thought, I’ll go to work in my creamed pants. It’ll remind me of you all day.”

A drop of salty water rolled down your closed lid.

There were only sounds of him moving around, grabbing his phone, keys and stuff, and then silence.

He hadn’t even touched a button on your dress. But you had never felt so open and vulnerable in your entire life.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was in a serious discussion with his board when the intercom rang. He threw an angry glance at Na Yeon, who bowed so deep he could see her cleavage clear as day.

She hurried to answer, looking at him beseechingly.

Taehyung did not like his meetings interrupted. Calls were always screened while he was in discussion. Only an important person or an important matter could bypass the screening.

“What?”

“I am to put it on speakerphone,” Na Yeon replied meekly.

“Do it then.” He was losing his patience.

“Kim Taehyung, you fucking son of a bitch!”

Everyone in the boardroom was startled, looking at each other in panic.

“How dare you take advantage of me like that? You insufferable, disgusting prick!”

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, playing with his pen.

“You miserable bag of shit, I swear I’ll cut your balls off!”

Taehyung drummed his knuckles on the desk, waiting for the tirade to stop.

“You are the vilest asshole on earth!”

The line went dead, and a stunned silence prevailed in the room. Taehyung rose again, going back to the whiteboard. He huffed at the mute people staring at him. He didn’t lose an ounce of his cool.

“So, let’s pick up where we left off…”

After everyone left, Na Yeon stayed back to apologize. Taehyung noticed that there was a beauty mark on her chest, right near the button of her blouse. Well, it wouldn’t have been visible if she had buttoned up her blouse. Maybe she felt sexy. Whatever. He didn’t really care.

“I’m sorry about the phone call, Mr. Kim.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugged it off, he wasn’t very bothered.

She continued unmindful of his disinterest.

“I should have tried to cut the call, I shall screen her next-“

His features suddenly flashed with annoyance.

“She is my wife. She should never be screened. Besides, she has every right to yell at me.” He sneered at Na Yeon as he bit out his words. “You don’t have any right to cut my wife’s call.”

With that, he stormed out of the boardroom, leaving his secretary shocked into silence.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

That evening, when Taehyung returned home, you were in the sitting room, legs crossed. Your mouth was set in a straight line. You were giving off a stubborn aura, and Taehyung fought the smile that threatened to curl his lips up.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss your husband, Mrs. Kim?”

The hot glare didn’t alarm him in the least.

He loosened his tie, sighing in that deep voice of his. It made the hair on your arms stand up. He settled down on the couch, just next to you.

“I enjoyed the telephonic love note today,” he said, fiddling with his cufflinks. He proceeded to unbuckle his belt.

“Especially because my pants were crusted with cum.” He threw his belt on the floor. “Thanks to you.”

You jumped to your feet, wagging a finger at him, screeching in mutiny.

“Don’t ever do that again, you scumbag.”

“Why not?” Mock surprise danced on his face. “Didn’t you agree to marry me?”

“I didn’t agree to be violated, Kim Taehyung.”

He puffed out his cheeks, disinterested.

“You didn’t leave me any other choice.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did he expect you to jump on his lap and love him? After he snatched everything you loved away from you? Was he insane?

You threw your arms up, scoffing incredulously.

“How on Earth do you think I’ll ever love you?” The very idea made you gag. “After you killed my husband? Do you have no regret?”

He scanned his fingernails, pouting his lips in mock hurt. His voice was soft.

“I didn’t kill him on my own.”

“What?” The tic on your mouth made your face twitch. “What the fuck are you saying?”

He lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“Everything I did was because I loved you. For you.”

You stared at him, no words coming to mind. You had been sure that you were only the spoils of the war between his family and Yoongi’s. You didn’t believe for one second that Taehyung loved you.

“When you think about it, the reason I killed him was you.”

Your jaw dropped. The sputtering of your mouth made it impossible to frame comprehensible words.

“Me?”

“Mmhmm. In a sense, you killed Yoongi.”

No, no. this wasn’t happening. You had never done anything to hurt Yoongi. He was your love, your precious baby. No, Taehyung was babbling nonsense.

“Shut up,” you whispered, voice shaking.

He smirked at you.

“Think, baby. He wouldn’t have died if you had said ‘Yes’ when I asked you nicely.”

Memories of that fateful day at his office, clad in pajamas and feeling his bulge pressing against you came tumbling back.

It was a struggle to find your voice. “No.”

“Accept that you killed him, Y/N.”

Your vision blurred with tears and you repeated again, “No.”

A shit-eating grin spread on his face. He unzipped himself, sliding into a more comfortable position.

“Would you rather say you killed him or suck my cock?”

The first drop rolled down your cheek, and he repeated his question, voice darker and laced with lust.

You grasped for words. “Don’t do this to me.”

Your plea made him impatient. He wanted the cold war to end already. How long were you going to mourn Yoongi? He didn’t really want to fuck you when you were heavy with that man’s child.

“Either suck my cock or admit that Min died because of you.”

He waited with bated breath, observing the whirlpool of emotions flashing on your face. And then, to his utter delight, you wordlessly sank to your knees.

He unzipped his pants, giddy with excitement. Your face was devoid of emotion. The tears had stopped, leaving stains on both your cheeks. He waited for you to reach and touch him. When it didn’t happen, he lifted his hips off the couch, annoyed.

“My cock isn’t gonna pop into your mouth on its own, babygirl.”

Nothing.

He reached out and grabbed your head, pulling you in so your nose was against his clothed dick. He felt like he would burst at the feeling. He moaned out as he rubbed your face against him, the groans coming out harsh and strained.

He couldn’t wait for you to take him out, so he fished himself out of his boxers, grazing the tip against your lips. The blunt disgust on your face only made him even hornier, and he coated all his pre-cum onto your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N, my cum looks better on you than my saliva does.”

He pressed the sides of your jaw to pucker your mouth open, placing himself inside your warm mouth.

“Go on, baby. Suck.”

He caught your eyes and added in a dangerous tone, “Don’t you dare bite, I’ll fucking kick that bastard to death.” He looked ominously at your belly. He knew your sore point.

Swallowing your pride, you let his muscle glide in and out of your mouth.

“That’s not sucking, babygirl.”

Your spat at him in fury. “Fucking suck yourself.”

He made as if to kick your midsection, and you screamed in alarm. The tips of his toes made slight contact with your ribs and you yelled for him to stop.

“Stop it, stop it, don’t,” you never wanted to sob in front of him, but it just happened out of your control.

“Well, suck it then. And don’t close your eyes.”

You worked on him robotically, trying to trample down the sick guilt that rose up in your chest with each bob.

He groaned and growled, cursing at the sensation of your velvety tongue. He wouldn’t mind if he died and went to heaven. Before he even knew it, he was close to his release. He panted out, cumming hard into your mouth.

You remained in position, not attempting to swallow. He knew you were going to spit it out as soon as you humanly could. His fingers closed around your neck.

“Swallow. Now.”

The pressure slowly increased, threatening to choke you. Your delirious brain conjured a coroner’s report. Cause of death: Choking on cum.

Reflexively, your body fought by opening and closing your pharynx, effectively making you swallow his slimy essence.

Taehyung felt the bob of your throat, his chest puffing up with pride. He lifted you up gently, holding onto the nape of your neck. He gazed at your glistening cupid’s bow, and slowly pressed his lips on yours.

He had never seen your naked breasts, but that could wait. He was already swimming in rabid delight.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Thank you for agreeing to do this interview, Mr. Kim,” the man said, setting up his notepad and pen.

Taehyung grunted in answer. His mind was somewhere else. He had been in a fight with you over names. He had wanted you to officially change your family name. But you had refused. He hated the Min that rang along with your name. It made him want to puke when someone ever addressed you that way.

“I will not change my name,” you had said, stubbornly set in defiance.

He adored your stubborn trait, but when it came to matters involving that damned Min Yoongi, he hated your obstinacy.

“You fucking will.”

“Make me.” You had folded your hands, indicating that you would not be swayed.

Taehyung was at his office, thinking of ways to coerce you into taking his name. That was when the reporter arrived for a quick interview.

The man started off with questions about Taehyung’s business, his financial turn over and assorted boring stuff, which he answered robotically.

Out of nowhere, the question popped up, making him raise his eyebrows mildly.

“Is it true that Mr. Min and you were friends?”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

“Of course, we were.”

“But, Mr. Kim, a lot of people expressed surprise at your claim of being friends with him.”

“People like who?”

“People who thought you married Mrs. Min a bit too soon.”

Taehyung snapped in annoyance: “She’s Mrs. Kim now.”

“Exactly my point, Mr. Kim.”

Maybe you would consider changing your name if he compromised. But how?

“Well, Mr. Kim?”

“Huh?” Taehyung had a hard time not thinking of you. “I wanted to help her out, especially after he deserted her, while she was pregnant.”

“How did you know she was pregnant? You testified in court that you didn’t know her too well.” The man leaned forward eagerly. “How did she consent to marry you so soon?”

Taehyung could smell a bait from a mile away. The man wasn’t interested in him after all. He was scoping out facts about you.

“What is it that you want?”

His tone made it clear that he knew what was going on. The man cut to the chase abruptly.

“Did you kill Mr. Min?”

Taehyung swiveled on his chair, taking his sweet time.

“Yes. I killed him.”

The abrupt admittance started his opponent, making him open and close his mouth like a goldfish. When he saw how flustered the man was, Taehyung continued:

“You got your answer, what more do you want to know?”

“But- but why did you –” the man was bewildered. “Mrs. Min, she was on trial, you testified against her.”

“Yes, I did.”

“She could have gone to prison.”

“Right again. Don’t beat around the bush.”

“Was it-” the man swallowed, “-an affair? Did you both plot to kill Mr. Min?”

Taehyung laughed. How he wished that had been the case. He would have been spared a lot of trouble if that were true.

The man wiped his forehead nervously.

“What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing, I’m just imagining how your head would look like on a stake.” Taehyung smiled fondly. “You know, my children would happily play with it.”

Children. Name. Maybe he could compromise on that bastard child’s name? Would that make you think again?

Taehyung’s attention snapped back to watch the man gulp several times, obviously shaken.

“So, did you get the answers you wanted?” He exhaled lightly, adding, “My secretary has your name and contact details, my men would pay you a friendly visit if you blabbered anything anywhere.”

“I- yes, I understand.” The man got up in a hurry. “Please excuse me.”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

When the reporter left the building, his phone vibrated with a message.

‘Any news?’

He called the sender.

“There’s nothing to report. I’m pretty sure neither Mr. Kim nor Y/N had anything to do with Mr. Min’s disappearance.”

The call ended, and Namjoon sighed. He knew something had happened. Something had gone wrong.

But the reporter couldn’t glean anything from Taehyung. The seeds of doubt took root in his mind. Was it possible that he had imagined the conspiracy? What if there had been no conspiracy and Yoongi really had fled?

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I have a proposal.”

You looked up from your curled kitten position on the deckchair, overlooking the pool. You were cross that Taehyung had interrupted your attempt at sketching Yoongi.

“Not interested.”

He pranced forward, plucking the sketchbook and tossing it away. The splash of it hitting the water sent droplets flying up and raining on your feet.

“What the hell d’you do that for?”

The reflection of the sun in the ripples of the pool made his face light up and sparkle. He placed both his hands on the armrests, trapping you.

“You will take my name.”

“Forget it.”

“In return,” he whispered softly, “You get to name your baby whatever the fuck you want.”

“I am the mother and I don’t need you to offer me what’s already my right.”

He butted your forehead with his own, clucking his tongue in impatience.

“You really don’t want your baby to see the light of day, do you?”

The scowl on your face was reflexive. It was a bother that he always used your baby as an excuse to get his way.

“Fuck off, Taehyung.”

He threw himself bodily on you, willing a strangled gasp to escape your lips. He spread your arms and upper body to align them with the chair, opening your torso up to him. He was already panting, cursing out as he spread your legs with his knee.

“C’mon now, babygirl, stop being so stubborn.”

He sunk his whole weight onto you, crushing your body underneath him.

The graphite pencil you had been using to sketch was still in your fingers. Mustering up all your strength, you dove it into the back of his neck.

He hissed in pain, jerking involuntarily and pulling the pencil off your grasp. When you struggled to let it go, he placed a well-aimed slap on your cheek, making you freeze in shock.

“You little brat,” he spat out, still pissed about his neck. His palms made contact with your cheeks twice more, sending your face jerking left and right.

“I’ll teach you to stab me, you little-“

He bunched both your hands by the wrist, holding them up above your head. His other hand sneaked between your legs, pushing your thighs apart.  When you tried to wriggle and throw him off, his knee dug into your midsection.

“Want to destroy what we have?” He sunk his knee a little deeper. “Huh, sugar?”

His finger was rubbing circles on your core, making you bite your lips from moaning out.

“Fuck, I’m permanently hard around you.”

His hard length was obvious in the tent of his pants. But as before, he humped against you, not unzipping himself. The friction was making him go wild. He thrust his hips into yours, the knee remaining ominously on your navel.

“Ah ssibal,” he cursed, throwing his head back, consequently making his long dark hair flip and reveal his glistening forehead.

“Oh… Oh.. I’m cumming,” he breathed out, spasming violently all over you, digging himself out of you and spilling his cum all over your clothed belly.

“Ew, Taehyung, you bitch, you’re fucking disgusting,” you screamed, pushing against his chest even as he shuddered in the aftermath of his orgasm. He smiled dumbly, panting out in ragged breaths. He placed his mouth near your ear, tickling your earlobe with his hot breath.

“I want to cum inside you.”

He sighed deeply as if he was thinking quietly about it, before adding:

“Soon.”

He pushed off you, grinning as he ruffled his hair back into place. Whistling softly, he walked away, leaving you trembling in a mix of shock and anger, looking down at your ruined dress.

He had cummed exactly on your belly, like he had carefully meant to.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The annual costume ball invitations reached your house, one addressed to Mr. Kim and one addressed to Mrs. Min. Taehyung had torn the envelope into pieces before handing you the card. It was probably a snide attempt to snub Taehyung and you knew that it had worked, judging from the annoyance on his face. You wondered if the hosts had intended to send you late invitations, because the ball was slated to happen that night.

You threw it on the coffee table, not caring in the least about some stupid party. But Taehyung had other ideas.

“We’re going tonight. Get ready.”

If the stuck-up Min empaths thought they had made a statement by sending two fucking invitations, they would have to think again. He would show them what fools they were. You were his Mrs. Kim.

The burgundy dress had a cowl neckline, which he absolutely loved. He had picked it out carefully, mind giddy with excitement on how perfect it would look on you. Finally, a day had come for the glamorous dress to do you justice, flattering your body, much to the envy of those losers.

“Wear the burgundy dress I bought you. And the studded heels.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He opened his closet, apparently searching for something. When he turned, a classic Tiffany box was nestled in his palm. He opened it, and a sparkling silvery bracelet was reflected in your eyes, lending them a beautiful twinkle that made his heart sing.

Delicately, he placed it on the dresser.

“This will compliment you.”

He stood silent for a second, thinking if you would wear it on your own. Something told him you would just leave it sitting on the dresser forever.

“Here,” he took your hand in his, gently placing the bracelet on your wrist. He clasped it and admired the way it looked even more beautiful on you. To him, each fiber of your being was infinitely more precious than the rarest diamonds in the world.

He had never seen anyone more beautiful, and he wished not to. When you descended the porch steps, he felt like a footman taking out a princess on her ride. He was mesmerized by the simple yet graceful features that taunted him, inviting him in.

Taehyung had Wo Bin drive you both to the ball. Taehyung handed you a sparkling rhinestone mask, the wings around the eyes rising gracefully in showers of gemstones. The costume ball was essentially a masquerade, and he had gotten the best masks he could lay his hands on.

“Take my hand, remember, no silly behavior.” He briefly glanced at your belly, driving home his point.

“Stop fucking threatening me all the time, bitch,” you hissed, scowling when he responded with a lazy grin.

The entire ballroom was abuzz with people clad in their best clothes, complete with masks of every color, style, and material. Taehyung’s chest was stretched to the max with pride as he waltzed through the floors with the most beautiful woman that night on his arm.

A couple hours later, you were weary to the bone. “I’m tired, I wanna throw up.”

He rolled his masked eyes. “Right. Stay here, I’ll get you water.”

He turned around as an afterthought. “Want me to walk you to a bathroom?”

You shook your head, indicating you were fine enough to just sit.

“ ’Kay.”

He went off, leaving you seated in a comfortable chair.

He was, however, interrupted mid-way by a woman dressed in a jade green dress with a deep neckline that left almost nothing to the imagination. The Venetian mask lent an air of mystery to her ombre eyes.

“Mr. Kim,” her voice was hauntingly thick with desire.

She placed her index finger delicately against his tux, poking him. “I’ve been fantasizing about you for years.”

He couldn’t form a coherent comeback. He was a man who prided on never being tongue-tied while facing a woman. But the simple statement had such force that it knocked his thoughts out like bowling pins.

“Uh, excuse me, I have to-“

She traced her fingers on his arm, patting him slowly, whispering:

“Please stay.”

He couldn’t believe how tongue-tied he was. He flashed his left hand at her, declaring in a harsh tone:

“I’m sorry but I’m married. Very happily so.”

“Is that true, though?” Her voice dropped even lower. “You are married, yes, but have you been loved back? Why pine after a hopeless fruit while another aches for you?”

He shook his hand free, annoyed. Very much annoyed that she was stating the bitter truth that his heart refused to believe.

“Excuse me, I have to go back to my wife.”

“Maybe you could at least dance with me once?”

His jaw tightened.

“No, thank you.”

She pouted her crimson lips, sadness clouding her eyes.

“I thought so.” She touched his elbow with a smooth “At least a peck on the cheek for your admirer?”

He bent his neck, intrigued by the strange woman, but she took him by surprise, going instead for his lips.

Her tongue snuck out and outlined the curve of his upper lip before her mouth pressed against his. Startled, he took a step back and his gaze dropped to the cleavage she was generously offering. She giggled naughtily, winking at him. Damn the woman.

The hot feeling in his cheeks didn’t go away for a good five minutes, and he was still pink when he returned with the glass of water he had set out to get.

He frowned when he saw a tall man talking to you, bending in half to address you.

“You, you are just a gold-digging bitch, you whore,” the masked man was saying, just as Taehyung materialized behind him.

“Excuse the fuck, did you just fucking insult my wife?”

The man straightened up, turning to glare at Taehyung. His mask did nothing to hide who he was. The hooded eyes, the tall lithe frame, the rich timbre of voice, all screamed Kim Namjoon.

He dug his hands into his pockets, staring at Taehyung with menace.

“Yes, I called her out for jumping on another dick as soon as she could.” He focused his most hostile leer at Taehyung before adding “The dick being attached to you of all people.” He didn’t stop, spewing more hate as he addressed you:

“Are you sure the baby is Yoongi’s, Y/N? Did he ever know what a cunt you are?”

The anger was so hot that Taehyung felt like his brain would short circuit. He balled his fists, ready to shatter the mouth that had spoken so ill of you.

Before he could do any damage though, you grabbed hold of his hand, tugging at him harshly.

“Take me home, I feel sick.”

He sent Namjoon one withering glance and exhaled angrily. Namjoon would pay later. He would make sure of it. He guided you out, practically shaking in fury. He texted Wo Bin to meet both of you on the porch. He was zoned out, and you asked something that just flew out his ear. When you slapped his elbow, he caught your words just in time.

“Is that lipstick on your mouth?”

Taehyung creased his eyebrows, turning back to consider something. The masked woman, she had licked his mouth before kissing. It was a kink of his to lick your lips. How did she know that he loved doing that to you?

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The way Namjoon had spoken to you felt like a cold slap to the face. If that was what he thought, was that what everyone else thought of you too? The whole social circle of which you and Taehyung were a small intersecting arc, did it think you were a gold-digger too?

The shame enveloped and consumed you, the flames of hatred licking at your heart. Your entire life was ruined by Taehyung. Only he was responsible for all the mess. Everyone seemed to focus only on you. He was in the background like an innocent bystander; but all the while, he was the puppeteer who pulled all the strings, bending everything to his will.

A bitter cold war was brewing between you and him, growing in intensity by the second. You had avoided him for days, slipping like an eel whenever his footsteps sounded. Every night, you slept on the couch, only to wake up on your side of the bed in the morning.

It was hard to sleep. Because you were constantly worried that he would violate you while you were sleeping.

You didn’t know that Taehyung spent three-quarters of the night perched on the steps of the staircase, waiting for you to drift to sleep. He silently swooped in and carried you to bed each night, making sure to tuck you in comfortably.

A few weeks later, you dressed up in a loose black hoodie and attempted to sneak out for a walk. But just as always, he caught you. He had casually blocked you with an outstretched hand, looking at you oddly.

“What the heck are you wearing?”

You tried to force your way out, but man was he strong.

“Get out of my way, Taehyung.”

He blew out his cheeks, shaking his head in disapproval.

“That hoodie is the opposite of flattering on you, honey.”

Curling your fists, you hit him on his arm, trying to make him move.

“I don’t care, so let me go,” you hissed at him.

“I care about my wife’s fashion choices,” he replied, reaching out to grab the hoodie. But just as quickly, he drew his hand back in shock.

“What the…” he whispered, horrified, reaching his hand out again.

His fingers gingerly pressed against your belly, feeling the small bump that was evident to the touch. He started back in horror. It really was growing. The reality hit him like a harsh slap. Min’s child was really growing inside you.

In one swift motion, he gathered you up in his arms, deciding that he couldn’t waste any more time. He couldn’t wait forever.

Dragging you upstairs to the bedroom, he led you to stand by the bed. His face was ablaze with hot emotion, his dark eyes gleaming with fiery hunger. He shrugged his suit off in haste. Long slender fingers gripped your hoodie, lifting it up to reveal the soft protrusion he had touched earlier. He looked panicked, like a guy who had missed the last airplane bound home.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he breathed, gently trying to undress you. “Forgive me, I am out of time.”

He pressed kisses on the side of your neck, lifting the hoodie up inch by inch until the cups of your bra were visible.

“Oh, Y/N, I-“ his voice was strangled, “- I can’t,” his hands found purchase at the small of your back. “I can’t take you when you are ripe with his child, I can’t wait that long.”

He eased you out of the hoodie, holding your hands to prevent you from covering your bra-clad breasts. He had only entered you once, he hadn’t forced himself into you since the day Yoongi died.

It had been his desire to wait for you to want him. But nature always liked complicating things. He couldn’t bear to think that you would be heavy with child in a few months, and would be busily occupied with the baby for months after that. No, he had no choice.

He was sliding your pants off when you half-choked out: “You could just… let me go.”

The wetness of your cheeks broke his heart. But your words had hurt him more.

“No. No, I can’t. You are all I have.”

“You know that’s not true,” you whispered.

The pained look returned to his face.

“No. It should have been me.” He gestured to your belly. “That should have been mine.” A tear rolled down his cheek, and he sniffed. “It should have always been me.”

“Taehyung- “

His lashes were moist and he shook his head, not wanting to listen.

“You were meant to be mine. Don’t you see?” His haunted eyes were tender, his raw feelings on display just for you.

“Do you- do you even like me?”

You remained silent, nothing but underwear bridging the gap between you and nakedness. His face contorted in pain.

He shuddered and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling both your hands above your head and pinning them in position. His other hand gingerly traced the outline of your bra. He licked his lips, looking into your eyes as he dipped a finger between your breasts, running it along the elastic strap and leaving your skin riddled with goosebumps.

His finger continued running down your midriff, stopping at your belly button. He closed his eyes and pretended that the bump didn’t exist, hurrying to slip his hand into your undies. It fanned his ego to feel your wet folds.

“See, your body likes it, hm? Why do you rebel so much?”

He leaned down to sniff your hair, greedily inhaling the scent like a man dying of thirst. He removed the hand pinning yours with a warning squeeze. Just as quickly, his hands flew to your breasts. His touch was ever so tender. He gently kneaded the soft flesh, moaning out as a little bit of areola peeked out of your bra. The self-control snapped, and he pulled the cups down, exposing your squished breasts.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he sounded so raspy, “Fuck, you’re so goddamn beautiful.”

Like a man in a trance, he dipped his head in the valley of your chest, nestling there, letting out the weakest of whimpers. His fingers worked feverishly to get the damn bra off you. He threw it across the room, burying his head in your bosom with a contented sigh.

There was a stark contrast between you and him. He was fully clothed, and you were in only your undies, entire chest open to his view. It led you to feel even more weak and vulnerable. When your hand tried to shield your breast though, he caught it, his voice came out from between your soft mounds in a muffled whisper:

“Don’t.”

He gathered both your breasts in his hands, moaning thickly as he rubbed his face against them. His tongue found your nipple, giving tentative licks before full-on sucking on the nub. He was a passionate man, and your breasts were glistening with saliva by the time he was done worshipping them. His mouth let go of the nipple with a soft plop, the dark eyes focused on your own the whole time.

His tongue drew a line from the middle of your ribs down to your navel. He paused at the elastic band of your undies, working on tugging it down. But impatience got the better of him, and he cursed, ripping the fabric easily as if it were the weakest of paper. He touched the wet patch on the crotch and looked at you, dangling the ruined fabric above your forehead.

“See. Y/N? See how wet you are for me?”

You didn’t reply. He gripped your chin, yanking it so his breath fell directly on your mouth.

“Kiss me, Y/N.”

When you didn’t attempt to kiss him, he straddled your hips, crashing his mouth down on yours. But the kiss wasn’t passionate, nor was it anywhere near romantic. You just wouldn’t open your mouth and let his tongue in. He could have kissed a pole and gotten a better reaction than yours.

It kindled the embers of rage in his heart, and he undid his tie, tying it around your neck like a noose. His shirt and pants were still on, and he rolled the long end of the tie until the fabric started tightening around your neck.

“Up,” he said, tugging the tie and making your head rise from the bed a bit. Holding onto it like a leash, he pulled your upper body was hovering precariously above the bed, both your hands holding onto his shoulders lest you fall and snap your neck.

“Now,” he hissed, “Lick my tongue”

The tie-noose tightened around your neck, threatening to cut off your airflow. You hoisted yourself up, shaking as your sight started to blur.

“Can’t” you heaved, “breathe.”

The fabric didn’t relax one bit.

“Hurry up and lick my tongue then.”

You blindly slashed at the air to find his mouth. Right on the verge of blacking out, you thrust yourself at him, begging entry into his mouth with desperate licks. Once you felt the hot muscle, you lapped at it, and just as quickly, the tightness eased, making you gulp mouthfuls of him, your body struggling to get your respiration back to normal.

“You bast-“

He thrust himself at you again, muttering:

“Shh. Lick me again,” and dipping his tongue into your mouth.

He moaned, chest vibrating against yours with the intensity of his strangled groans. When he broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your mouth to his, a big bead hanging in the middle, the weight making it drop and splotch on your thigh.

He leaned back working on his shirt buttons. They didn’t open fast enough, and he started ripping the buttons off, eyes locked on your nipples. When he tore the fabric away from his body, his whole wide chest was naked, save for a thin chain around his neck. It had what looked like a silver key for a pendant, you weren’t sure as it kept dangling with his every move.

He remained in his pants, gathering your body and pressing you against his chest. A strained moan escaped his lips, and he trailed kisses down your neck, past your shoulder blade. His tongue flicked out to reach places his lips couldn’t.

One hand cupped the slight hint of your bump, prodding gently but also warning you against doing anything stupid. He pulled your hand towards his crotch, placing it on his clothed bulge.

“See,” he moaned, “See what you do to me?”

He stroked his bulge with your hand, fighting the urge to close his eyelids and lose himself in bliss. He had been hard for so long. Too fucking long.

“Take me out.”

His whisper sent a shiver up your spine. But you didn’t move. You didn’t have a choice to stop it. But you had the choice to not comply.

He cursed, too impatient to reprimand you. He unzipped his pants, leading your hand to his hard dick. He closed his hand over yours, effectively jerking himself off with your hand.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it,” he threw his head back, snapping his eyes open just as quickly when you gripped his dick too tight. Intentionally, of course.

“What the fuck?” He pushed you onto your back, dragging you by the legs into position. All the tenderness had evaporated from his countenance.

“You really want to screw this?” He hovered his body over yours, menace evident in the curl of his lips. The squirming pissed him, and a swift slap landed on your cheek, accompanied by an angry “Fucking behave, Y/N.”

“Get off me,” you bit out, aware of the drool sliding down your chin.

“No,” he said, humping his dick against your pelvis. “You are mine. Don’t fight this. He’s not coming back. He’s dead.”

He saw the tears kindling, and added cruelly:

“Because of you.”

“Stop saying that,” you screamed, trying to knee him in the groin. But he only laughed.

“You always complicate things, Y/N. I only want to make love to you.” He sighed innocently. “But you just make it so difficult.”

His forearm dug into your neck, preventing your head from moving. His other hand snaked down to your soaked clit, rubbing circles on your sensitive pearl.

“Who was always a bitch in heat for Min’s dick, huh?”

The question left you speechless. He smirked.

“Who loved to ride his thigh and get her ass spanked?”

“Shut up, shut up.” you couldn’t think of any other reply. How did he know all of that?

He simply shrugged.

“Okay, sure. I’d rather fuck you than talk about your dead man.”

He really wanted to eat you out. But he knew you would kick him in the face if he tried to. Maybe he should get restraints before trying that. Besides, his dick was already aching with being hard for so long. He slid his pants off completely, getting in position, aligning himself with your entrance.

He placed his forearm against your belly, deciding it gave him better leverage that way. Looking down, he inched himself forward, watching in fascination as he disappeared into you, your bodies becoming one. Just like they had always been meant to be.

The silky walls were tight around him, and he held on for dear life. You were going to be the death of him.

“Fuck, ah, fuck,” his breath constricted, the finality of actually being inside your velvety folds driving him crazy in exhilaration. He set a fast pace, snapping his hips into yours as if his life depended on it.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” he cooed, “to know you killed Yoongi for this cock.”

Your whole face burned in rage.

“No, you tell me, how it feels to know you killed a good man for a piece of pussy.”

He chortled, not slowing down in the least.

“Awesome, really,” he panted out, licking his lips as he kept thrusting. “I can kill a whole army for this pussy.” He was not ready yet to say ‘It’s not just your body, it’s you I want. The whole you.’

He pulled the tie around your neck, telling you to get on all fours.

“I can’t dumbfuck, I’m pregnant,” you spat out.

He simply flipped you over, crossing both your hands over your chest so you were kneeling on the bed, with his hands pressing your wrists against your breasts.

“Shit, baby, how are you so tight? Guess he never filled you like I do, huh?”

His tongue licked the back of your ears as he kept thrusting. You were doing your best to not make any sound. You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

“Tell me,” he panted, driving himself deeper, “Tell me I’m bigger than him.”

His finger slipped into the tie-noose, twisting the knot.

“Say it.”

You were sure he wouldn’t stop. Panic flooded your body, jumping into escape mode.

“Fine, you’re bigger.”

A dark chuckle rang throughout his chest, making your breasts bounce as aftermath.

“Be more specific, baby. Describe it.”

There was another tight twist, and you gave up.

“Your dick, it’ bigger, it’s- Fuck, I can’t breathe- It’s thicker, it’s longer, okay?”

He smiled into your skin. Gently loosening the tie, he kissed the light welts around your neck.

“Let me hear it again.”

“You’re bigger than him,” you repeated in defeat.

“Fuck yeah, that’s my girl. Cum around me, baby.”

His groans were loud and animalistic, like those of a man possessed. His pounding got frantic, rattling the headboard and eliciting curses from your parched throat.

God, how he wanted to fuck Min’s spawn out of you and fuck his seed into you instead! The thought sent him spinning into his climax, releasing hot ropes of cum into your tight walls. The growls from his chest chilled your blood. He held you incredibly tight against him, riding his wave out, clutching onto your ribs in passion.

The shivering sigh blew against your ears, and he gently pulled out, kissing down your shoulders and back as he did so. Your knees gave out, sending you collapsing down, but his hands caught you just in time.

When he had finished prodding and poking his fingers in your clit to feel his cum, he uttered in a ghost of a whisper:

“You cummed for me, baby.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Were you ready to kill Taehyung? To be frank, you didn’t really know. It was an idea that had crossed your mind millions of times. But taking another life was too horrible to even comprehend. On the other hand, it was a fact that he would continue to make your life hell.

It was a difficult decision, but one you had to face. Were you doomed to live forever with him? Take all his obsessed declarations of love for you? Live in constant fear that he would hurt your child?

Was it worth killing a human for peace? You looked down at your baby bump. He was going to be a terrible father to your baby. The orange canister by the lawn was just alluring. Was all the solution you ever needed in a can of garden pesticide?

The throbbing of your heart was so loud you were sure the guard could hear it. But now you were not just any woman. You were his boss’s wife. Hell, every guard in the fucking house addressed you respectfully.

“Mrs. Kim?” The man stepped towards you with a question on his eyebrows.

“I want the lawn to myself for some time.”

Usually, there were no guards by the pool. Taehyung would pluck their eyes out if any of them snuck up on you while swimming. But the lawn was a different story. There were a lot of guys walking around with guns. It surprised you to see them file out of the lawn like a bunch of disciplined kids.

But you knew their focus would be on you anyway. They didn’t serve you, they served Taehyung.

Making an elaborate show of tending to flowers and picking weeds, you loudly muttered at the gardener’s apparent failure to keep the flower beds weeded out. Kneeling down near the orange can, you unscrewed the lid with an air of ignorance.

“Foul smelling shit, what the hell is it?”

The can toppled over your dress, soaking the cotton. Just like you had expected, a man shot out of nowhere, hurrying to your side.

“Are you alright, Mrs. Kim?”

You batted your eyelashes inoocently at him.

“I- yes, I need to change. I think gardening and I don’t mix.”

He accompanied you inside, turning back to leave. Once upstairs, you nervously wrung out the poison from your soaked skirt.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“What’s that?”

Taehyung had asked sooner than you had expected. You feigned surprise at the question, looking over to where his eyes pointed.

“Oh, nothing.”

Much to your chagrin, he nodded and went back to tapping on his phone. What if he didn’t ask again? Well, you could try again later. Patience. You couldn’t get caught.

Getting up slowly, you danced your way to the fridge. You peeked at the contents, closing it with a sigh. Turning to look at the counter, you absently reached for the cup. You were cradling it in your hands, and just as you let your lips touch the rim, he raised his head.

“Coffee?”

You shook your head. “Protein shake.”

He placed his phone on the coffee table, gazing intently at you.

“Well, aren’t you going to drink it?”

“Oh, yes.”

You sipped from the cup, not minding his stare boring into your face. He leaned back, spreading his arms on the sofa. His face was unreadable. When your throat bobbed after the last bit of drink, he raised his eyebrows mildly.

“Done?”

You shrugged your shoulders, without answering. He considered your face for quite some time, before his curiosity got the better of him.

“So, should I call the ambulance?”

You bit back a grin.

“What for? I’m not in labor yet.”

He watched you suspiciously before giving up.

“I know about the pesticide.”

You stifled a yawn. “Of course you do. And?”

He knew you were smart. You were a fighter. There was no way you would drink a cup of poison to get away from him. The poison surely had been intended for him. But he had just watched you down the cup without flinching.

“And,” he said, face serious, “Why don’t you get on with it?”

“What exactly do you mean?”

His passive demeanor broke, leaving his face twisted in vulnerability.

“You want to kill me.” You flinched at the word ‘kill’.

“So, go on and kill me, Y/N.”

Your eyes met, and you reached for a cup wordlessly.

“Not a fresh cup. I want to drink from yours.” He pressed his fingertips together, watching you as you poured out milk. He hated coffee. And you knew. He saw you drop one sugar cube in, just like he liked. The warm flutter in his heart died just as quickly when he saw you reach into the spice cupboard, extracting a pill bottle.

You tipped the bottle and liquid fell out of it, rippling and disappearing in the small white whirlpool of milk. Without a word, your fingers reached for a spoon and stirred the cup. His stare was burning into your skin. Your own heart felt like lead, so heavy and drenched with guilt.

His fingers had a subtle tremor when he reached to accept the cup. Placing it on the coffee table, he smiled at you.

“I love you, Y/N.”

It was a lie, you were sure. He only wanted to ruin Yoongi. He never loved you.

There was nothing to say. You didn’t believe him.

He drew a sharp breath, meditating if he wanted to speak his mind.

“If I die in your hands, your baby and you will be left alone, Y/N. Penniless. But you will get your independence, yes.” He paused, a suspicious watery film glinting under his lashes. “You can be happy and raise your child on your own. But you will return to me in the end.”

The arch of your eyebrows creased your forehead, asking the question your lips failed to.

The smile reached his eyes, a manic shadow casting a fearsome look on his face.

“Whenever, wherever you die, you will be interred in the Kim crypt, just next to me. We will be together even in death.”

The entire breathing mechanism of your body stopped working.

“What? But that’s –“

He flowed on, seemingly uninterrupted.

“And Y/N, the place where Min Yoongi is buried, the secret, it will die with me.”

Without hesitating, he grabbed the handle and drew the cup to his lips. The warm milk touched his lips, the fumes from the poison overwhelming his nose.

#bangtan #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts taehyung #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #BTS #yandere kpop #kpop fanfiction #bts kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #yandere #hard yandere #bangtan fanfic #yandere taehyung #yandere taehyung x reader #bangtan boys #bts fan fic #tae #poison apple #poison apple 2 #PA2 #tw: child maltreatment #tw:violence #tw:abuse

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 4

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 2700+

Warnings: Angst, language, relationship abuse, domestic violence, trauma, mental/physical abuse

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

After dropping off cookies at the firehouse, you were ready to tackle another twelve-hour shift. Your morning was off to a good start, and you hoped it would stay that way.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I am at the JCPenney in the Westfield Culver City mall, and this employee is refusing to honor my coupon.”

“Do you really think this is an emergency, ma’am?

“Yes, I want to use my coupon, but this high school dude, who calls himself Brad, says he won’t give me the deal.”

“That’s because it’s expired, ma’am,” Brad stated loud enough for you to hear. 

“Sounds like your coupon is expired. You should probably take this up with the company and not complain to dispatchers, who are trying to save people from life and death situations. Goodbye, and good luck with the coupon.” You hung up the phone, covering your hands over your eyes and shaking your head.

“Bad call?” You looked over at the voice to see Bruce smirking at you.

“More like a ridiculous call about an expired coupon.”

“People can be terrible sometimes.”

“You got that right,” you replied, earning a chuckle from Bruce as he continued to make rounds to the booths.

Bruce was in charge of your call center, having been promoted from a dispatcher, but he still took calls from time to time. He was the one that offered you a job after Thor talked to him, and you were on the other end listening to the entire conversation, similar to when a parent would call and ask someone if they were hiring because you were too scared to do it yourself. During your training, you got to listen to a few calls he took, and it was crazy how calm and reassuring he was in such a high-stress situation. How did he do it? You still have no idea. 

Nearing the end of your shift, you were excited about going home, eating a hot meal, and heading off to bed. Twelve-hour shifts were long and exhausting, but it’s what came with the job. You stretched your hands over your head when an incoming call popped up on one of your computer screens. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The line remained silent, but you could hear breathing. “Is everything okay? Hello.”

“My--my ex...,” she whispered, mumbling something you couldn’t quite understand.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to speak up? Where are you?”

“My--my ex. He’s trying to break into my apartment,” her voice cracked. “He’s not allowed to come around me anymore. I have a restraining order against him.”

You gulped, trying to stay focused and calm. “Can you tell me where you are?”

“1170 Chip Avenue in Torrance. I’m in the Seascape Apartments room 507.”

You contacted a squad unit in the area, and they were in route. “I have units on the way. Everything is going to be fine.”

“How do you know? He wasn’t even supposed to be able to find me,” she cried. “I don’t even know what to do if….” A loud banging noise interrupted her, and she screamed.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay? What’s your name?”

“Krista...Krista Dumont.”

“Krista, my name is YN. Now, I want you to go into your bedroom, lock the door, and find something to barricade it. Then, wait for the police to arrive.”

“Okay,” she sniffled, shuffling around. “Door is locked and….” A loud noise broke out over the line, and Krista’s breathing increased. 

“Krista, what happened?”

“He’s um...Jimbo’s in my apartment. What if--” her voice cracked “--what if he gets into my room, and he...he….”

“Authorities are close.” You glanced at one of the screens, recognizing the squad car number to be Clint and Natasha. “Remain calm for me, okay?”

“I don’t know...he’s gonna….he’s gonna hurt me like before.”

“OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR, KRISTA,” Jimbo shouted, pounding hard on the door. “I just want to talk to you.”

You gulped, letting out a shaky breath. “Don’t listen to him. Keep the door closed, and stay where you are. Help is almost there.”

“GO AWAY, JIMBO,” she yelled, hearing his name crack in her voice.

“FINE, if you don’t want to do this the easy way, I guess I'll have to do it the hard way.” You heard a loud bashing sound and grunts. 

Krista sobbed over the line. “I can’t...I can’t keep doing this.” 

“Don’t give up. Hang in there. Everything will be okay.” You heard sirens over the phone, but you couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief yet. A big crashing sound came over the phone, and you knew he got to her.

“GET AWAY FROM ME,” she pleaded with him as you heard different objects crashing to the floor in all the commotion. The other line became static almost like the call was breaking up, but it cleared up, realizing she must have dropped her phone. 

“COME HERE, YOU DUMB BITCH,” he grunted, and she screamed again, forcing goosebumps to your skin. “You think you can just leave me. Did you not think I would find you? I know you better than you know yourself.”

“Police, drop the weapon and let the young lady go,” Clint stated in his police voice. No one was holding the phone or even knew you were there. You were like a fly on the wall, and all you could do was listen. 

“If you take one more step, I will slice her throat. If I’m going down, she is coming with me.”

“Whoa, whoa, big guy. No need to hurt anyone here.” You paged an ambulance to the scene in case something did happen. “How about we try and come to an understanding?”

“Hell no, she’s mine and will always be.” You could hear Krista crying, and then in one quick moment, you heard a gunshot, glass breaking, and a high pitched scream before the line cut off. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking off your headset, and walking to the nearest exit. This call hit too close to home, and you couldn’t handle it. 

It’s only been three months, but at times, it still feels like you haven’t made any progress. Little details would remind you of him every single day: hearing a certain song, smelling his favorite food, or walking past someone that smelled like him. No matter how much time and effort you put into leaving the past behind, memories of him lurked in the shadows. Everyone tells you everything will get better with time. It was always about time, time to recover, time to forget, and time to start over. No one has ever given you a straight answer about how much time it takes, and there were days you wish they knew.  

You leaned against the brick wall outside your building, trying to slow your racing heart. You took a deep breath hoping it would calm your mind, but it offered little to no reassurance. Scenarios started to play out over and over in your head of what would happen when he finds you. You got out like Krista. You escaped his controlling and abusive behavior, but right now, it felt like it didn't matter.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump away from it and turn around to find Bruce. “I’m sorry. Are you doing okay, YN?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You waved it off. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all. You're doing a great job, but I'm concerned. You seem almost skittish after that last call,” he observed, furrowing his brows together. “This job can be stressful, and I want you to know we have resources available if you’re having a hard time dealing with the stress. There is no shame in asking for help.”

“I know. It’s not the job per se, well right now it is, but…” you sniffled, taking a seat on the bench right next to the building. 

Bruce stood still, contemplating what to do before sitting down next to you. “Call hit close to home?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” you breathed, wringing your hands together. 

“I'm not sure if you're aware, but Thor told me why you left New York. I didn’t need an explanation when he called asking if I had a job opening, but he blurted it out. It was private information that he didn’t need to share, so I’m sorry about that, but I want you to know I understand.” 

“Thanks, but it’s okay, Bruce.” You nodded at him. “Do you know what happened to her…to Krista?”

“Do you want to know?” Bruce asked, worry etching his features.

“Yes and no.”

Bruce sighed, biting his lip as he thought it over. “During the struggle, Natasha was able to get a shot off and get Jimbo in the neck, but it wasn’t enough, and he ended up pulling her with him out the window. They both hit the ground and were pronounced dead at the scene.” He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I tried, right?” You teared up, wiping at your nose. “It’s all a part of the job.”

Bruce wasn’t much of the sentimental type, but you were okay with that. He always seemed unsure of himself, but every time he put on that headset, he became a whole different person. He could be playing Tetrix and tell a person how to give CPR in extreme detail and save a life. He's an amazing dispatcher on the phone, but in person, it was like he didn’t know how to assure someone it would be okay.

“I’ll be okay, Bruce,” you smirked at him.

“I know you will, but why don’t you leave a little early today.” You nodded at him, standing up to leave. “YN, one more thing, you should talk to someone about what you went through. Trust me, it will help you more than you think.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks, Bruce.” 

_________

You have never been able to confide in someone you barely knew, like a therapist or a support group, so that’s how you ended up at your brother’s firehouse. You sat in your car, waiting for the tears to dry up and your eyes to brighten up.

Thor could always find a way to make you feel better, but unlike Loki, he was one of those people that didn’t believe you at first when you told him about what your husband did to you. It’s not like Thor didn’t confront him about it, but your husband was persuasive and manipulative. To the outside world looking in, we were the perfect couple, and he was a good man that supported his wife. But on the inside, we were anything but perfect. 

Thor defended him when you mentioned it to him again and insisted it must’ve been an accident. After that, you never asked him for anything until you showed up at his apartment three months ago with a busted lip, black eye, and bruised ribs. On the other hand, Loki wanted you out of that relationship right from the start, but like any good girlfriend or wife, I believed him when he said he would change, but he never did. 

You closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath. “Fuck it.” You grabbed your hat from the backseat, slipping it on, and walked through the back door of the firehouse. You heard a booming laugh and right away, knew it belonged to your brother. You made your way up the steps, seeing everyone sitting around the living room, watching Carol and Thor play a racing video game. 

Steve lifted his coffee cup with a smirk on his face that quickly disappeared upon noticing you from the far side of the room. Whether it was the puffiness of your cheeks or your tear-filled eyes, he could tell something was off. He cleared his throat, tapping Thor on the arm.  

“Steve, stop, I’m finally going to beat Ace,” he growled, earning another nudge from Steve. He pressed pause, shooting Steve a harsh glare. “WHAT?” Steve nodded his head to you.

Thor looked over his shoulder, and his expression instantly changed. You gave everyone a small wave, rubbing your lips together while Thor stepped over Carol's legs, rushing over to you and pulling you in for a hug. You squeezed your eyes shut, silently crying into his chest. 

“Shhh...Shhh, it’s okay.” He patted your head. “Let’s talk downstairs.” You nodded, feeling eyes on you. 

Thor rested his arm across the back of your shoulders as you both walked down the stairs together. Once we reached the bottom, he pulled you in for another one of his bear hugs, resting his chin on top of your head. You bit your lip to hold back the tears, but it did nothing to keep them from falling. 

He pulled away, holding you at arm's length, while you wiped away the tear-stained residue from your cheeks with your sleeve. “What happened? Did he find you? Call you again? Threaten you?” His voice was full of concern and hate, but his eyes were filled with worry. 

“No, no. Nothing like that,” you croaked, clearing your throat. “I took a call with a woman, and her ex was--” you paused, shaking your head “--her ex was trying to break into her apartment. I told her everything was going to be okay. I told her to lock herself in her room and wait for the police, but…” your voice drifted off not wanting to remember it.

“I bet you did what you would’ve done. You helped her the best you could.” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t help her. She left him, but he still found her,” you confessed, staring at the ground. “Where...where does that leave me when he finds me? Am I going to end up like...like her? Dead?"

“No,” Thor reassured, making you look up at him. “She doesn’t have a six-foot-three handsome older brother that has no problem kicking his ass. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

“Promise is a strong word, Thor.” 

“I know. Why do you think I said it,” he smirked, squeezing your shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know...I’m confused, and I don’t know if I will ever get over it. Is he going to hold me back forever? Am I ever going to get to move on and be happy?” You rub your forehead, readjusting your hat. “It’s like this one call...this one call allowed everything to rush back to me. All the memories, the pain, the fear. I feel like he’s always going to be looming over my life, and I will never get away from him.” 

“It’s..um...it’s always going to be hard. It’s a day to day progress. I know you hear it all the time, and it sounds redundant, but it’s time. It’s a waiting game, but with time it will get easier, and memories of him will fade as you make new memories. Better memories. Don’t let this moron ruin your future when he already ruined your past.” 

Thor wasn’t always great with words, but sometimes he surprised you. He did have a point, your husband did ruin your past, but maybe it was time to start making a better life for yourself and learn to live without him. 

“Hey, I’m here for you, no matter how long it takes. I’m not going to push you aside like I did before. I was an idiot back then for not believing you.”

“You were,” you smirked, earning a silent chuckle from him. “But, he was manipulative and persuasive, and I already forgave you, Thor, so stop blaming yourself.” He nodded with a closed mouth smile. 

“Have you called Loki?”

“He has a big rehearsal for his show tonight. I didn’t want him worrying about that and me,” you mumbled, not missing the left corner of Thor’s mouth twerk up. It was always a competition with your brothers. Who were you going to confide in first? 

“Do you want to hang out for a bit,” he asked, pointing to the balcony. “Feast on some takeout, play some video games? Then after my shift tonight, we could go do something?”

“Sounds fun,” you nodded. “Is NoobMaster69 at you again?”

“Bastard always is,” he chuckled, making you crack a small smile.

“It’s probably Loki, pulling a fast one on you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait, do you know something?”

“I know nothing, big guy,” You pressed your lips together, locking it with an invisible key, and tossing it over your shoulder. 

“I will find out sooner or later,” he smirked, putting his arm across your shoulders, and walked back up the stairs together.

_______

AN: Thanks for reading part 4. We finally got to learn a bit more about her past, but does anyone have any idea who her husband might be? The answer may surprise you! Also, did you like the cameos with Krista Dumont and Jimbo from The Punisher and Brad from Spiderman! It was definitely a heavy chapter with the angst and all I can say is expect more of that. Again thanks for reading, comments, likes, and reblogs always welcome! They can be a good motivator! 😉

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers au #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #firefighter!steve #firefighter!bucky #modern au #steve rogers series #captain america #captain america x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #firefighter au #avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #first responders au

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry Round-Up Post | Week 4

This is our last round-up post for LCDrarry 2021 ;D You have time to catch up on the works that posted during the week and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators. Reveals are on 15 June! Wheeeee!

Happy reading, commenting and sharing! ;)

~Your LCDrarry Mods

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information and more detailed warnings. Thank you!

PPS: Here are all round-up posts of LCDrarry 2021:

Round-up Post Week #1 

Round-up Post Week #2 

Round-up Post Week #3 

Round-up Post Week #4 (you're here ;))

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Art

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In the Shadow of Your Heart

Prompt: Howl's Moving Castle, 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Prompted by: the artist Author: Anonymous Art Medium: Digital Art Rating: General Warnings: sectumsempra scars, memory loss

Summary: When the recluded ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy finds Harry Potter wandering around the hills, with no memory whatsoever of who he once was, he and Teddy decide to welcome him into their little family.

View "In the Shadow of Your Heart" on AO3.

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Fic

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Sesame Seeds and the Entire Spectrum of Human Emotion

Prompt: "The Proposal", 2009, Anne Fletcher Prompted by: @prolix- Author: Anonymous Word Count: 9,530 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Nudity, Boat Incident, references to past abuse/neglect

Summary: Faced with exile, Draco pretends to be engaged to Harry Potter, who agrees to play along for Narcissa's sake. When they're forced to spend a weekend together celebrating the engagement with the Weasleys, they might try to kill each other, or... they might just fall in love. . Based on the movie The Proposal (2009), though you don't have to have seen the movie to understand the fic!

Read "Sesame Seeds and the Entire Spectrum of Human Emotion" on AO3.

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My Fair Gentleman

Prompt: "My Fair Lady", 1964, George Cukor Prompted by: @ziezie13 Author: Anonymous Word Count: 20,766 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: light alcohol use and mentions of child neglect by Dursleys

Summary: After an extended stay at Charlie's Dragon Reserve in Romania, Harry returns to London and makes a fool of himself at his first Ministry Gala. Minister Shacklebolt orders Harry to seven months of etiquette lessons with Draco Malfoy. Will Harry pull through and become an expert in PR? Will Draco manage to make over the biggest PR disaster the wizarding world has seen in years? Wouldn't it be loverly?

Read "My Fair Gentleman" on AO3.

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saying yes (instead of no)

Prompt: "Schitt's Creek", 2015, Series Prompted by: the author Author: Anonymous Word Count: 21,022 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: canon typical alcohol and drug use, marijuana use, explicit smut

Summary: “It’s a general store that’s also a very specific store,” Draco grumbled. “Most people won’t realise this, but I want to market Muggle goods to the Wizarding world as well. I want something that will help boost the economy of the Hamlet and Muggles have so many amazing things we don’t have.” . Draco sighed again. “I think it would benefit everyone.” He glared at Emily. “But there’s not a single witch, wizard, or wix who will shop at a place owned by Draco Malfoy.” . “What if it’s owned by Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?” Potter asked. . “That would be preposterous,” Draco mumbled. “Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would kill each other before the store opened.” . “What if you didn’t?” Emily asked. Draco opened his mouth to let her know, they would indeed kill each other, but before he could say anything, she continued, “What if it turned into a lovely business?” . “There’s only one way to know,” Potter said. “I really think this is a good idea, Draco."

Read "saying yes (instead of no)" on AO3.

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A First Look Into Resurrecting Mummies With the Aid Of the Chosen One, and Why It Should Be Advised Against (an Essay by Draco Malfoy, Assistant Archaeologist)

Prompt: "The Mummy", 1999, Stephen Sommers Prompted by: the author Author: Anonymous Word Count: 21,948 words Rating: Mature Warnings: minor violence elements

Summary: Draco hopes to find an ancient spell book rumoured to be in Hamunaptra after Astoria found a map to the lost city. If he makes this discovery, maybe the Magical British Museum will finally look at his application, and his annoying colleague will finally leave him alone. It’s a good plan, until Draco is reunited with Harry Potter for the first time in ten years, as the man is about to be hanged.

Read "A First Look Into Resurrecting Mummies With the Aid Of the Chosen One, and Why It Should Be Advised Against (an Essay by Draco Malfoy, Assistant Archaeologist)" on AO3.

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Wicked Game

Prompt: "Jumanji", 1995 or 2017 Prompted by: @MysticKitten42 Author: Anonymous Word Count: 22,044 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Sexual Content, Implied PTSD

Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy crossed a line during one of their late-night Astronomy Tower Bonding Sessions and neither are sure what that means. Not that they got particularly far, considering they were caught and assigned detention for their antics. And, now, they've been sucked into a boardgame. That's just fantastic...

Read "Wicked Game" on AO3.

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Love in Three Parts

Prompt: "Bridgerton", 2020, Series Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 24,172 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon-typical content

Notes: Thanks so much to my beta, L, for all her help and her encouragement as I wrote this fic. Thanks to the mods for hosting this fest and to the Anonymous prompter who inspired this fic.

Summary: Draco has everything needed to be the diamond of the season. He has the looks, the pedigree, and if he should be short on the money end, well, it isn't up to him to convince anyone they want to marry him. And yet, he finds himself with no prospects and no suitable matches until Harry James Potter, Wizarding Britain's Most Eligible Bachelor, makes his first appearance in proper Wizarding society for the first time in five years. Together, they hatch a plan to secure Draco a husband and keep the debutantes' mothers away from Harry. And if someone should develop feelings along the way, well, the course of true love never did run smooth.

Read "Love in Three Parts" on AO3.

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Outwit, Outlast, Outplay

Prompt: "Survivor", 2000-ongoing, Series Prompted by: @eletriptan Author: Anonymous Word Count: 30,976 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Brief homophobia, mentions of past health issues

Summary: Draco loves Survivor. Loves it. So when his job at the Dept. of Mysteries offers him the opportunity to go on as a contestant, he can't think of anything that could go wrong. He is sorely mistaken, but a little chaos turns out to not be such a bad thing. Featuring gratuitous descriptions of Survivor game-play, really jargon-y magical theory I got way too excited about, and Draco's best friend Isabelle being an absolute QUEEN.

Read "Outwit, Outlast, Outplay" on AO3.

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Advantage Rule

Prompt: "The Queen's Gambit", 2020, Series Prompted by: @prolix- Author: Anonymous Word Count: 42,738 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Character death, Parental neglect, Brief references to eugenics, Sexual content, Mild homophobia, Alcoholism, Drug abuse

Summary: Draco's life has been struggle after struggle. He was exiled as a baby, his mother died, he was forced to live with muggles... Need I go on? Quidditch was supposed to be his escape, but how is he supposed to beat Victor Krum and take the world title if he can't even beat Harry Potter? ~No knowledge of The Queen's Gambit required~

Read "Advantage Rule" on AO3.

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Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!

Author and artist reveals are on 15 June.

#lcdrarry #lcdrarry2021 #lcdrarry 2021 #lights camera drarry #lights camera drarry 2021 #drarry #drarry fanart #drarry fic #lcdrarry 2021 roundup post #drarry fic rec #drarry fic recs #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #harry x draco #hp crossover

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A new kind of competition; RA on the Masked singer pt. 2

*Author’s note*

Okay I know I’m kinda doin this out of order but I was posting this part on Wattpad and since it was still in my copying memory I decided to post this part up first but no worries, pt. 1 will be posted up in just a minute. And I wanna tell you all that there will be only TWO MORE chapters left before I finally complete the Rock Angel series. Enjoy this chapter until next time my dears :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@queendeakyy

@5sos-wdw

@onebigfangirlworld

@isabella-bby

@labessieisallama

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@wormzteef

@bohemiansweede

_________________________________________________________

*Round 5. THE SUPER 8*

Now it was starting to get serious, this was now the Super 8 and this was the first time this season that 2 people were gonna get eliminated.  I took a deep breath and gave a silent prayer to God and Freddie above to give me strength.

“And here to give us yet another star-stellar performance and another few hints as to who this mega star could be under the mask. Here’s the Lioness.”

The LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE

“What very few people don’t know about me is that I didn’t always have that good of a homelife as a child.” I said as I walked through a child’s room.  I took hold of my stuffed lion and hugged him tightly as I continued, “The people who raised me were well—let’s just say they weren’t the nicest of people. The remainder of my childhood into adolescence was toxic for me.”

“Oh my god.” Nicole muttered sympathetically.

“Growing up with that much toxicity it really damaged my self-esteem. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t enough for them.”

“Growing up in an abusive home.” Robin noted. “Wonder if she’s an advocate for domestic abuse?”

“But I knew I couldn’t let myself be buried underneath all that hatred. It took a long, long, long, long time. But I forgave them. Because in a way without them, I wouldn’t have found this inner strength within me.”

“You go Lioness.” Cheered Jenny.

“That’s why for this performance, if you or a loved one is dealing with toxic family members or partners. There’s no shame in admitting they’re in the wrong. Because if you continue to listen to their toxic lies, it’ll only lead you down one way. And you’re too good to leave this world just yet.” I set the stuffed lion down and punched the wall which shattered as I let out a proud roar.

I stood there on stage with the mic on hand as my girl Pink’s “Beautiful trauma” came on and I began singing in a ballad like tone first.  Slowly walking across the stage till I came upon a beautifully decorated swing (much like the Black Swan used a couple rounds ago).

*Me*

We were on fire I slashed your tires It's like we burned so bright we burned out I made you chase me I wasn't that friendly My love, my drug, we burn out

Oh

I got on the swing and it slowly raised up, lifting me all the way high above the audience as I sang the 2nd chorus. As the mantra part of the chorus came up, silk extended from the ends of the swing and I slowly swung back and forth making the silks dance gracefully in the wind.  When the bridge came up, I turned on my semi-good rapping skills. As I rapped out the bridge, the swing lowered me down towards the catwalk that stood in front of the judges.

Once my feet touched the ground and I sung the last verse, I walked towards the judges and sung before each of them.  

*Me*

The pill I keep taking The nightmare I'm waking There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you My perfect rock bottom Beautiful trauma My love (my love), my love, my drug, oh

My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my drug.

Mmm tough times they keep coming All night laughing and knackered Some days like I'm barely breathing Then after we were high and the love dope died, it was you

The pill I keep taking The nightmare I'm waking There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you My perfect rock bottom My beautiful trauma My love, my love, my drug, oh

After walking back on stage with Nick standing at my side, he congratulated me on another amazing performance.  

“The Lioness is pulling our heartstrings once again.”

“I agree Nick. Especially after hearing that story of her going through domestic abuse that—that’s never an easy thing to go through. But Lioness let me just say you are a strong woman underneath. Because I can tell you’ve overcome that trauma and made a name for yourself.” Nicole told me.

I pounded my heart and raised my hand towards her.  She gave me a heart back.

“Now we raided through your fridge and found out just what exactly the Lioness loves to eat.”

“Oh come on Nick this is easy! She eats meat!” Ken exclaimed.

“Sit your butt down Ken!” Nick exclaimed. “Men in Black, bring out the Lioness’s favorite meal.” One of them came pulling out a cooler and sat it right beside Nick and he said. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got in here.” There was a drumroll before he opened it to reveal a thermos that read JASMINE TEA.

“What’s that say on the thermos?” asked Jenny.

“Jasmine tea.”

“But there’s no food there!” complained Ken.

“To answer your Question Kenneth.” I scolded. That got the rest of the panel as well as Nick laughing. “Any type of food is good for me, but it’s this tea that will give you a clue. As to who I am.”

The audience and Nick ooed.  Jenny’s mouth opened widely as she rapidly pounded her stack of notes.

“Jenny it looks like you’ve got something.”

“I do! I do! I do! I do! I do! Okay so in the clue package she talked about her abusive childhood. Rough upbringing, but she didn’t say parents were the ones doing it. And the number code that was given to us awhile back, that 149121. I have been running through my head various codes as to what that could mean. Until the TEA is what gave me the idea.”

“Who is it?!” Ken demanded.

“At least she’s making more sense than you do Ken!” Robin dissed.

“Okay the code actually stands for 11-24-91. And this Rockstar has a tattoo of it on her shoulder with Angel Wings to remember her friend and mentor Freddie Mercury. This is most definitely the ROCK ANGEL (Y/N) KLINE!!!”

“Oh yeah that’s right. She does have a tattoo with that date on it.” Robin agreed with her.

“Nah I’m gonna disagree with you on that Jenny.” Ken said.  Oh boy here we go. “Now going off based off the clue package we saw domestic abuse. And on the number code the first few numbers I picked out were 911.  This actress started in a movie known as “The Call”. Welcome to the Masked Singer Halle Berry!”

I shook my head and crossed my arms at him.

“Look at her she’s agreeing with me.”

“Ken this is not Halle Berry!” Nick Cannon said.  I then waved bye to Nick as I proceeded to walk off the stage but he told me to come back, so I had no choice but to stand there. “See Ken you made the Lioness upset just like you did with Nick Carter last season.”

“Hey like I said before then. This isn’t the first time someone’s walked away from my guesses, and it won’t be the last.”

“I think I might have an idea on who it might be.” Nicole piped in.

“Go head Nicole.”

“Okay so we saw the domestic abuse, growing up in an abusive home. But I also remember from a few weeks back there was a sign that said AIDS. So I’m thinking she’s also an advocate for AIDS/HIV awareness. I’m gonna put my money on Rihanna.”

Oh wow that’s impressive.  But sadly she’s wrong.  Although I have helped Rihanna with some of her AIDS awareness promotion when the two of us were at a party together for MTV.  She told me she wanted to start a campaign for it but had no idea where to begin with it.  So I gave her some of my well known contacts and gave her some business advice that I remember learning from Deacy on how to handle everything.

“That’s not a bad guess. But Rihanna’s got a different voice. But whoever you are, you wowed us once again Lioness.” I bowed and blew them a kiss as Nick told me that I could head backstage.

“The judges are slowly but surely getting a grip with my identity. But I’m not ready to go home just yet. And if I somehow make it through, I’ll give them a performance that’ll definitely throw them off my scent.”

Thankfully, I was safe from being unmasked in this double elimination, however Seashell and the Yeti weren’t as lucky.

*Round 6. THE SPICY 6*

It’s down to the wire now.  This song might just make me or break me, especially since it’s the hardest song I’ll ever do in my entire singing career.  But like Freddie and I always say, “It’s go big or go home darling.”  Plus this is another special performance that I’m dedicating to.

“Now then we actually got to sit down and actually talk with this Megastar. Here’s what we managed to find out about the Lioness.”

THE LIONESS CLUE PACKAGE AND INTERVIEW.

This clue package showed me getting my mask taken off but I still had a black face cover hiding my entire face.

“Oh yes that feels so much better.” I praised at feeling the cool air on my face.  The Producer then asked me.

“So how has it been being the Lioness so far?”

“A lot of fun. She’s given me the courage to do things I never thought I could do before.” The screens would show some of my previous performances from getting on a wrecking ball to being lifted well over 10ft above an audience.

“What would winning the Masked Singer mean for you?”

“Well I’m not just doing it for myself. But for my pride as well. Especially my dad.”

“You’re dad?” I nodded.  The screens would then show me walking around my den with a picture of me and a shadow figure of a male lion.

“Not related by blood but he’s been my father figure for as long as I’ve known him. In fact without his love, I never would’ve found true love on my own. My husband, my kids, even my grandkids. They wouldn’t have existed had he not given me the love that I was denied growing up.” I stroked the picture of the shadow figure of the lion beside me.  The screen also showed my real family with my husband lion, 4 adult kids and 2 young grandkid cubs.

I pressed the frame up to my mouth and gave it a kiss, the screen even made a kiss sound effect as little hearts danced around it.

“So Papa Lion, this song is for you. I love you so much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” I blew a kiss to the camera as my clue package and interview ended.

The ballad opening for “I don’t wanna miss a thing” by Aerosmith came on and I took a deep breath.  This was it, but you’re doing it for Roger here (n/n).  Even though he won’t know it, this song is for him. I opened my mouth and soon began singing.

Once the bridge came around and the most difficult part of the song came on, I unleashed every ounce of alto rawness I had within me and just belted out that last yeah which made fireworks rain down from the ceiling and the audience seemed to enjoy it.

*Me*

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing Watch you smile while you are sleeping While you're far away and dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender I could stay lost in this moment forever Cause moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Don't want to close my eyes I don't want to fall asleep 'Cause I'd miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream will never do I'd still miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

And I don't want to miss one smile I don't want to miss one kiss

And just stay here in this moment For all of the rest of time Yeah, yeah, yeah!

Don't want to close my eyes Don't want to fall asleep 'Cause I'd miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

After finishing the song, fireworks came up behind me as I punched my fist into the air and panted from within my mask.

“Oh my god where did that come from!?” exclaimed Jenny.

“The lioness taking us to the far reaches of outer space with Armageddon!” Nick proclaimed as he came up beside me.

“I wanna say something first Lioness. That was probably your best performance ever.” Robin told me.  Oh my god seriously? I knew I had cracked up on that last ‘yeah’ but to hear him say this was my best performance surprised me. “You really laid it out on the line tonight with probably the hardest song but you executed it phenomenally.” He praised.

I bowed my hands in gesture to him telling him I wasn’t worthy.

“Alright now let’s see just who amongst our panel is the Lioness connected to.” The judges all looked up and soon my chute came down towards Ken but Nicole intercepted it from him and she said.

“Oh it’s for Jenny.” She passed it to Ken who passed it to Jenny and she saw the silver charm of a birthday cake.

“A birthday cake.” She told the crowd as she held the charm between her fingers.

“Jenny. I wanna thank your husband for performing at one of my kid’s birthday party.” At that the crowd got all suspicious and Jenny’s face was gaped wide in shock.

“Is Donny doing things behind your back?” Nicole accused Jenny.

“I hope not.” God these innuendos kill me. “Okay so apparently you know my husband Donny. But I-I don’t remember him ever telling me he performed at a kid’s birthday party.”

“What about the entire New Kids on the Block?” asked Robin.

“Possibly. Was it just my husband or the entire band that performed at your kid’s party?”

“You know she can’t answer that!” Nick snapped playfully.

“I’m sorry but I gotta know!”

“Alright panel. What’s this clue package doin for you?”

“Okay well in the clue package there was the picture of her family. I saw four grown kids and 2 grandkids. If she really is a grandma then I still gotta go with Rock Angel. Because her daughter Kelly just recently gave birth to a baby girl last year during the pandemic doing an at home birth.” Nicole said.

“Yeah and in the clue package she spoke about a father figure. And I read somewhere that she considers Roger Taylor from Queen her dad.”

“Okay, okay panel.” Damn they are starting to see it now.  But I hope this performance keeps me in the game.  “Well, all we know is was that was yet another killer performance. Make some noise for the Lioness. Go ahead and head on backstage.”

The judges really are seeming to close in on me. I really don’t wanna go home at this point but if I do then it is what it is.  I still had a lot of fun doing this show and it was an amazing ride.

But at the votes, I was surprised to see that it wasn’t me that was going home.  But the Russian Dolls, after doing Elton John’s song “I’m still standing”. I thought they did a hell of a lot better than me but I guess it’s not always the voices that count, but how you execute the performance.

Now it was onto the Semi-finals.

*SEMI-FINALS*

I’ve come too far to end this journey now. The Semi-finals is the last step to ensure that I can secure my spot in the finals.  And I have just the song to get me there.

“Week after week she has astounded us with pure, unadulterated vocals. But can she claim her spot for the finals. Let’s dig up some more clues on……the Lioness.”

THE LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE:

“Being in this competition has taught me a lot about myself. On one side there’s the Lioness I present before the media, when I preform or out in the public. Then there’s the Lioness I am around my pride. A mother, a daughter, a grandmother. And I think that’s really the best job compared to my career.”

“She’s definitely a family woman.” Jenny stated as she took down some notes.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere without my family. They are my rock. Even those that had left me I still see them throughout my life.” I stood before a funhouse mirror maze and saw various shadows surrounding me. “And it’s their voices that give me the courage to continue the fight. So for this performance I’m gonna pull out all the stops and just allow you all to see the real me. Nothing but my raw vocals. I’ve fought to hard and I’m just not ready to go home yet.”

The stage screens were lit up with a rain animation as well as rippling water.  I stood there alone with the mic and the spotlight down on me as I sung the song that was once offered to me for the Original movie, but I recommended the Producers to Christina to do the song.

As the song grew more fiercer with the soft drumbeats and my voice became more powerful and intense, I could feel tears filling my eyes once more.  I was gonna get to the finals even if it costs me my voice.

*Me*

Look at me You may think you see Who I really am But you'll never know me Every day It's as if I play a part

Now I see If I wear a mask I can fool the world But I cannot fool my heart

Who is that girl I see

Staring straight back at me?

Why is my reflection

Someone I don’t know?

There's a heart that must be free to fly That burns with a need to know the reason why

Why must we all conceal What we think, and how we feel?

I won't pretend that I'm Someone else for all time When will my reflection show Who I am inside? When will my reflection show Who I am inside?

At that last belt which I held longer than I ever held a note before.  A 9 full seconds which made the crowd go berserk.  I could see some people wiping their tears away as I sung the last couple of notes before finally ending it with a bow of my head.

“Heartfelt! Lioness once again pulling our heartstrings.”

“Okay I just need to say this Nick.” Ken said.

“Go ahead Kenneth.”

“Throughout this entire competition especially when it comes to the Semi-finals, it all comes down to who wants it most. And Lioness—” he wiped his tears away. “You didn’t just show us that you wanted a spot in the finals. You proved you’re worthy of the Rock Gods!”

Aww Dr. Ken.  I blew him a kiss and patted my heart and he blew me multiple kisses back.

“For once I agree with Ken.” Robin said.  “If people didn’t get teary eyed when you performed Whitney Houston’s hit song, they’re definitely not dry eyed by now.” The 2 women nodded in agreement.

“I agree with the guys. I grew up listening to this song. And to hear your voice do this song, not only did you just sing it. You felt it. And when a singer feels a song, it makes it that much more powerful.” Nicole added.  I nodded and replied to her.

“Agreed Nicole. This song……it really spoke out to me when I first heard it. And…..during a really, really rough time in my life. It—got me through so much.” I spoke through my choked tears. Knowing the judges could sense that I was crying underneath the mask, they all awed at me as Nick rubbed my back.

“Lioness even getting emotional up here. Panel, any guesses as to who she might be?”

“All I can say and have been saying is that this is a true, professional performer. And just that belt alone showed us what you’ve got. A true fire within you. Now I know that I’ve said the Rock Angel a couple of rounds but just this week alone hearing the voice, I wanna say this is Christina Aguilera.” Jenny said.

“But wouldn’t it be risky for her to do her own song?” Robin asked.

“She could’ve disguised her tone in order to sing it. But that recognizable control of the belt has to be her.” Jenny reasoned with him.

“I don’t think so Jenny. Cause in the clue package she says she’s a grandmother and Christina ain’t no grandmother yet. I’m still gonna say this is the Rock Angel.” Nicole said.

“Alright well, another heartfelt performance. Give it up one last time for the Lioness.” I waved to the audience and blew kisses at them before exiting the stage.

By the end of the round (and finding out the identity of the infamous Cluedle-Doo being none other than Jenny’s husband Donnie Wahlberg) it was time to see just who was gonna get eliminated and find out who was going into the finals.  I stood there with my hands in a prayer as I mouthed out a prayer before Nick finally said the contestant going home.

“The Black Swan!” oh no!  She’s actually been my favorite singer in our group.  Hell she and I were the only ladies representing Group B and now it was up to me.  “So congrats to the Piglet, Chameleon and Lioness, we will see you three in the finals.” I walked up towards Black Swan and gave her a hug and she hugged me back. “Aww look at that, Lioness giving Black Swan a hug. Seems we’ve got a friendship up here.”

I patted the side of her face before bopping her beak and finally left behind Chameleon.  Well it was up to me now, could I secure another female winner for the Masked Singer? Or be runner up? Only fate and the superfans will determine that.

*?????? POV*

I was reading the paper as per my morning routine.  Nothing new except this whole COVID talk and false expectations on the vaccine delivery. The world really has gone to shit hasn’t it these past few years?  That’s when I got a ding on my phone from my daughter Laura.  I unlocked it and read her text with a link to a video.

Dad, is this who I think it is?

Video: MASKED SINGER THE LIONESS

I think I might’ve heard of this show. Yeah it started off in America and after it’s popularity, various of other countries began it.  Here in the UK we just completed season 2, so this must be the American version.  I’ll admit the costume on the thumbnail looked beautiful and the detail was astounding.

I clicked on the video and it read THE MASKED SINGER S.5 SEMI-FINALS LIONESS.

The lights were dimmed and the second she opened her mouth to sing, my heart skipped a beat and I went frozen in my chair. Quick as I could I turned on our smart TV and opened up the YOUTUBE app on the TV and impatiently waited for it to open up.

“My love?” Veronica’s voice spoke as she came down.

“I’m fine dear!” I told her as the app finally uploaded.  I went over to the mic icon and pressed down on it and spoke into the remote. “The Lioness Masked singer.”

Soon enough various videos popped up and soon the video that Laura sent me was the first option.  I clicked on it and of course bloody ads had to come up. “Oh for god’s sake!”  I sat down on my chair as the video finally played and I could hear the rest of the song.

“Reflection” by Christina Aguilera.  This version was the recently updated one for the live action remake but just hearing this voice alone I knew only one person who could sing like that.

It had been decades since we last saw one another, shortly after 9-11 to be exact.  But even though I’m no longer involved with the music business anymore, I’d always ask Brian or Rog to keep an eye on her and tell me everything about her.

And now seeing her perform as this Lioness creature for such a show, they didn’t know just how lucky they were to be in her presence.  As the song got more powerful, I could feel these old bones of mine feeling warm and secure, tears filled my eyes and at that last belt, goosebumps came all over my body and a shiver ran up my spine.

There was a slight tremble in her voice as she ended the song.  I knew it was because she was crying underneath that mask but as always she holds out strong and finished the song as beautiful as ever.

The audience roared with applause bringing back some memories of when she went on tour with us.  Only her and one other person could get a crowd to sound just like that.

“She’s gotten stronger with her vocals.” My wife’s voice spoke from behind me.

“She was taught by the best. And she now coaches the best.” Ronnie took her place by my side, placing her hand on top of mine.

“You really should give her a ring sometime. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.” I turned away from her.  “You can’t have the boys and me be your messengers forever. I know for a fact she’d be happy to hear your voice again.” I sighed deeply. “At least think about it my love.”

“I will.” I placed my hand on top of hers and gave her a light peck on the cheek.

“Are there any more performances of her on this show? Luke says she’s been all over the media being the Lioness.”

“Well that was the Semi-finals performance, let’s see if someone collab all of her performances together.” I went back to the search box and soon found about a half hours’ worth of (Y/n)’s performances. I clicked play and soon her 1st performance came up.

Seeing her dance reminded me of our times on the dance floor back in the day.  She was the only person able to keep up with my crazy dance moves, and that’s why she was always the perfect dance partner.  Even Ronnie agreed to that statement.

“That girl never changes. She’s still got it even after all these years.” Ronnie smiled.

“That she does love, that she does.” God she has grown so much since the last time we parted.  Her voice much more mature and able to do things she never did before. And some of the stuff that she’s doing on this show is bonkers.

Never did I think I’d see her on a makeshift wrecking ball or be lifted high above the stage on a swing with silk ropes dangling down from it.

I hope she takes the gold and win this little show of hers because she rightfully deserves it.

*FINALE*

It is time.  Do or die now.  It was me vs. Piglet vs. Chameleon.  After performing a beautiful, angelic performance with last season’s winner LeAnn Rimes, the finals were finally ready to start.

After a couple months of going from 14 down to 3, it all came down to this moment right here, to determine who was gonna be this season’s Masked Singer champion.  Chameleon went first and then I was going to be next.  Chameleon had stuck to his rapping but I could hear more singing out of him this time around and he actually had a pretty good voice.

“Up next. She’s been putting us through a roller coaster of emotions. From hard rock to ballad. Here is the last performance and your last chance to guess at who is beneath, the Lioness.”

FINAL CLUE PACKAGE.

I was walking through a tunnel slowly.  One foot in front of the other.

“Being on the Masked Singer has really been a lot of fun. When I first came on here, never did I think I was gonna make it this far.” The screen would show highlights of all my previous performances along with some additional clues.

Like a familiar band logo at the corner and season 3’s champion Night Angel’s wings. And the year 1981.

“This song was written by a very dear friend of mine. A friend that was taken from us far too soon. But it’s through this song that win or lose, I’ll always take with me till the day I die. Because no matter what, we will always make it through the tough times, especially with what we’re going through now with the Pandemic.”

The stage was dark except for a few lights as the familiar tune of Freddie’s last song he ever performed in the studio came on. I was having brief flashbacks of that day in the studio seeing him record this very song but I had to get my mind right as I sung the first verse.

Once the chorus kicked in, fire exploded from behind the stage as my rock and roll band came back on once more.  The stage was mine to command one last time as I walked across it for the chorus, giving it my all, just like Freddie did.

By the time the bridge came on, my voice was starting to tremble but I kept my emotions under control till the end of the song.  When I got around towards the end of the song, I would hold out a few of the notes till I finally belted out the last note much like Freddie did on the record.

And I swear it was like I could hear him singing alongside me, guiding me to hold the note out longer.

*Me*

Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for? Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die I can fly, my friends

The show must go on

Yeah, yeah! The show must go on

Oh yeah! Yeah! I'll face it with a grin I'm never giving in On with the show

I'll top the bill I'll overkill I have to find the will to carry on. On with the show. Show. The show must go on.

As the song ended, fireworks fell down from the roof and fire and smoke exploded from the side of the stage as I panted heavily with my arms extended outward.  With the last struck of the drums and guitar, I punched my fist into the air.

I sent a quick kiss to the Heavens as the audience went insane.  I saw all five judges on their feet applauding me.

“The Rock and roll Lioness showin us that the Show must always go on.” Nick praised.

“I swear each and every performance you do, it just gets better and better! You could just be this season’s winner.” Jenny told me.  I clenched my hands and did a victory gesture with them, I could only hope I’d win but it’s not up to me.

“I would agree. She just keeps escalating and escalating her performances and I’m just in awe whether it’s her rocking out or pulling our heartstrings with her raw voice.” Nicole said.  Even last year’s winner LeAnne said.

“Hearing this voice alone makes me feel like I’m looking at a champion singer here.” I placed my hand over my heart in thanks.

The judges then proceeded to do some more guesses, Robin and Nicole were saying that I was the Rock Angel while Jenny was saying that I could be Christina Aguilera and of course Dr. Ken (out of the blue) decided that I was Beyonce.

“So tell us Lioness, what would it mean to you to win this competition?” Nick asked me.

“Well Nick, winning would mean that I’ve given my fans a whole new side of me that they’ve never seen before. But even if I don’t win, I still had a blast being here.”

“We were happy to have you here. Give it up one more time for the Lioness everybody!” I waved to the audience and walked backstage.

“This whole experience has been a wild ride. But I had a lot of fun, win or lose.” I told the camera with the Men in Black behind me.

The Piglet then did his song, “Faithfully” by Journey and man did he kill it.  He definitely pulled my heartstrings with that performance.  So it could be a close race between him and I, or there could be a game changer and Chameleon could take the trophy as the first rapper to sing solely Rap/Hip-hop songs.

“Tonight was a star-worthy performance, but as we know only one can take home the Masked Singer trophy. Now it’s up to our judges and Superfans at home to vote for your favorite now.” I stood between Chameleon and Piglet with my hands together in a prayer.  “The votes are in. The contestant with the least amount of votes and in 3rd place is…….”

There was suspense in the air as I felt my foot shake just waiting for Nick to say which one of us got in 3rd place according to the votes of the judges as well as America.

“The Chameleon!” the audience gaped in shock. “That means Piglet and Lioness you both are safe and can head backstage before we call you both back out to crown a winner. Let’s make some noise for the Chameleon everybody!” I walked up to the Chameleon and extended my hand and we shook hands before I walked with Piglet at my tail as we both waited backstage.

About 10 minutes later, we were told to come back onto the stage to finally crown a winner of Season 5 of the Masked Singer. Piglet and I stood on opposite sides of Nick as he held in his hand, the envelope with the Winner’s name.

“Welcome back to the Masked Singer.  It is now time to crown our new Season’s champion. Piglet, or Lioness. Which one of you will be taking the golden masked trophy home? The votes are in by the judges and the super fans. And the winner is……..” I could see Piglet’s legs shaking as he has made them every time throughout this entire season, while I was rubbing my hands together nervously.

Nick opened the envelope before proclaiming into his microphone.

“THE PIGLET!!” confetti soon exploded covering both me and Piglet up with strings of blue and silver confetti.  Piglet stood there shocked while I clapped for him. He deserved the win, he did a great performance and a great song to close out this season with.  He took the golden mask trophy and danced with it as Nick said.  “Congrats again Piglet you are this season’s champion. Which means you can stand over there in the championship booth till it’s time to unmask you.”

Before Piglet left, I walked up to him and patted his shoulder before giving him a hug and he hugged me back.

“Aww Lioness is being all cuddly with our contestants here.” Piglet and I shook hands with each other for a good competition while I went back to my spot to be unmasked once and for all.  “Lioness you’ve wowed us week after week and as sad as we are to see you go, I think I speak for everybody here, we cannot wait to see who you are!”

The judges all agreed as well as the audience.

“But first, let’s bring out the first Impression guesses. Men in Black! Bring ‘em out!” I could already see the judges pleading for them to not to.  “Yeah it’s been like—months since you guys wrote these down.”

“Can we please not do this Nick?” pleaded Jenny.

“Too late. And the first guess is from…..Nicole.”

“Oh god.”

“You guessed……Christina Aguilera. Not a bad guess.”

“Yeah that really isn’t a bad guess. However I’m not gonna stick with that. Based off the clue package of LGBTQ, and growing up in a domestic abusive home, plus the recent clue package with the symbol of the band Queen’s logo and the Rock n Roll hall of fame right beside that. I’m gonna go with the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s see who else we’ve got here……Robin!”

“Oh no.”

“You guessed……Pink.”

“Oh that’s not too bad.” He shrugged.

“You stickin with it?”

“I am not gonna stick with that. Like Nicole I did see the Queen logo in this week’s clue package and just going off by the voice alone. I re-listened to some old records and this is clearly the Rock Angel herself.”

“Alright 2 votes for the Rock Angel. Mrs. Jenny McCarthy.” Jenny sunk down in her chair as Nick grabbed her envelope and opened it up. “Your first impression of the Lioness was……also Pink.”

“Oh thank god I thought I had pulled a Ken guess.” She wiped her hand across her forehead as Ken exclaimed.

“Hey!”

“Ken sit down! Are you sticking with that guess.”

“No. The number code we were give, the 149121. Which I’ve coded as her tattoo for the date of Nov. 24th, 1991, the date when Freddie Mercury sadly passed away from complications from AIDS. And seeing how she talks about her family, her kids, her papa Lion. I’m going for (Y/n) Kline the Rock Angel!”

“Alright, alright, alright. Dr. Ken……” oh this outta be interesting to see who he thought I was at the first performance.  He opened Ken’s envelope and laughed.

“What? What did he write!?”

“Janet Jackson!” oh my god! That even got me weak in my knees as I laughed.

“With those dance moves I thought it could be her! No one could’ve done that dance better than she could! DON’T LAUGH AT ME!!”

“Are you sticking with that guess?”

“No because the clue package doesn’t support it. Okay so we’ve had LGBTQ, domestic abuse. She’s a family woman with 4 kids and apparently 2 grandkids. Although I think the grandkids is a lie. She went through some tough times throughout her personal life. This is none other than Lady Gaga! Welcome to the Masked Singer!”

“What?!” Nicole exclaimed.  “But she’s not a mom!”

“Well then she could be lying about the kids then too all I know is that the rest of my brilliant theories lead to Lady gaga!” I shook my head and placed my hands over my mask shaking my head in defeat. “See! She’s even admitting I’m right!”

“No she’s not she’s just done with how ridiculous your guess is.” Nick said.

“Well I don’t care. This is Lady Gaga and I’ll take it to my grave!”

“Alright. Ms. LeAnne. As our guest panelist you have the last say in who you think this might be.”

“First of all let me just say you are a super star whoever you are under there. If we had competed against each other last year, I would’ve been quaking in my boots.” We all laughed. “This is truly a rock legend under here with the few rare female rockstars that came with the time. And I actually got the privilege to see her perform with the band Queen one year for a birthday party. And there’s only one person that I’ve seen on stage that can sing with as much fire as you Lioness. And that is the Rock Angel herself.”

“Okay Panel. Everyone except for Ken Jong has agreed on their final guesses. Lioness! It is time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. We wanna know—whose behind the mask. It is time for you to Take it off!”

“Take it off! Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!” everyone soon started chanting.  I held my arms out in a shrug before shrugging my shoulders and finally reaching for my mask and tried to lift it off.  Nick was helping me as the audience and the judges kept chanting.  I could tell I was keeping them in suspense, just wait until they see it’s really me.

Finally the mask came off.

I shook my head and pulled my hair out of my face and the crowd went nuts, the judges all jumped up and cheered.

“THE ANGEL OF ROCK HERSELF! ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAMER! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THE ONE AND ONLY (Y/N) KLINE!! THE ROCK ANGEL!!!”

“OH MY GOD!!” I heard some of the judges exclaim.

“Look how beautiful she is!” Nicole praised me. I waved to the audience and gave them a “Freddie Mercury” like bow with a twirl of my hand.

“Hello LA!” I said.

“Angel! Angel! Angel! Angel!” I heard the crowd chanting out.

“Wow it is such an honor and a privilege to be standing here next to a true Rockstar.”

“It’s an honor to be here Nick. Thank you all for having me here.” I told him.

“Tell us why did you choose to be in this show?”

“I know this answer gets told a lot but for me personally I speak from the hard truth that we should all strive to do different things cause—you never know which days are gonna be your last.” I hinted my potential death scare almost 20 years ago.  The judges all nodded in understandment.

“And I’m told that you also wanted to say something about this performance in particular?”

“Yes. The song I had done wasn’t originally my choice.” The audience as well as the judges all looked at me in surprise. “Originally the Producers wanted me to do a Katy Perry song, but……this coming November will mark the 30th anniversary of the day my boys and I lost our beloved Freddie. And…….being there the day he recorded this song in only one take. I felt in my soul that I had to do this for him. To give him a grand performance because due to this covid Queen and I aren’t touring till we feel it’s safe to start touring again, like many artists are. So I really wanted to honor Freddie with a performance that I hope did him proud.”

“Well you did just that.” Jenny told me.

“Thank you. And I’m glad you managed to catch that Jenny, you truly are the Masked Singer detective.” She pointed out to me and that’s when last season’s winner LeAnne said.

“I grew up listening, to both you and Queen. And—I can say for a fact that you definitely did Freddie Mercury proud. And it’s good that you and the remaining members of Queen continue his legacy. Sure it’s not the same as it was before but you don’t refer to him just in the past. But in the present.”

“Thank you LeAnne dear.” I thanked her as I blew her a quick kiss.

“I just gotta say (Y/n). You absolutely crushed the choreography with Janet’s song for your first performance as well as your wrecking ball routine. I think those were my favorite performances of yours, will we expect any of that once you start your solo tours back up?” Nicole asked me.  I laughed along with the audience.

“You never know.”

“Well it has truly been an honor to have you on our show. Now then ladies and gentlemen, to sing for us one last time give it up. For the artist formerly known as the Lioness, the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline!” the audience applauded and I sung “The Show must go on” one final time for the audience.  Putting my heart and soul into the lyrics before finally belting out that last note in a different key before punching my fist into the air and sending a kiss towards the heavens for Freddie.

After the show all ended and a few days passed by, I did a livestream on my Instagram as well as my Youtube page telling my fans that I was indeed the Lioness and just talking about my experience on the show. Of course Bri, Rog and Adam blew up my phone with calls/texts/DM’s (mostly Adam. Bri and Rog still don’t quite get DM’s) telling me why I lied and did that show in the first place.

I gave them my straight answer that I wanted to have a bit of fun and do some type of performance and show the audience a whole new side of me when it came to performing.

I was just about to go to bed after bidding Georgie goodnight (he had to work a late nightshift tonight) when my phone rang. I picked it up to see it was an unknown number from London.  Curiously, I pressed the answer button and said.

“Hello?”

‘Sister dear.’ My heart stopped and I sat down on the bed.

“Brother mine?” I choked out.

‘Hey love. It’s uhh—been awhile, hadn’t it?’

“Try 20 years yah rotter.” I teased as we both softly chuckled. “What—how…..”

‘Laura sent me a video of you on the Masked Singer. The American one. You were beautiful up there.’ I placed my hand over my heart. ‘Although I do wish you had won. That—boy band person couldn’t hold a candle to you.’

“Oi now, Nick Lachey did just as well as I did.” I softly lectured him.

‘Well I still feel like you should’ve won.’ I smiled solemnly.

“Was it just because of the Masked Singer that you wanted to call me?”

‘That and…..’ he trailed off.  I lay against my bed and softly spoke to him.

“Deacy?”

‘I…….’ he sighed heavily. ‘I know I haven’t been the best at keeping contact.’

“John.” For the first time since……probably back when I was an intern for Miami all the way back in the autumn of 1980, I called him by his first name (unless I referred to him him by his full name did I call him John, most of the time it was Deacy).  “I get it. Plus my schedule has been quite hectic. And you—you’ve been busy yourself. After all Queen would’ve fallen decades ago without your financial brain.” We both shared another laugh.

From then one we talked pretty much the entire night up until it was almost 6am my time before we finally said our goodbyes. It was sweet to hear from him once again after so long.  Now whether or not I’ll ever hear from him again, I don’t know.

But at least I know my Brother Mine is still keeping his eye out for me, in one way or another.

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[phis-corner]

Can I get a 3 and a 10 with Marinette parents being some what salty and believing Lila and when the learn the truth they try to get her back from the kents and Bruce is like 10 to them cause he is her godfather now

3-  “Please don’t walk out that door.” 10- “I won’t let you.”

Disclaimer: I have no idea how transfer of guardianship works. Please bear with me here- half of what I wrote doesn’t make sense to myself, but I wasn’t really sure how else to fulfill the prompt.

TW: Mentions of emotional abuse.

They gave her up.

They willingly signed the papers that would temporarily transfer guardianship of her over to Clark and Lois.

Marinette expected them to, of course, but experiencing it for real was still a stinging slap to the face, no matter how horrible her parents were to her.

“Come on, Mari.” Jon’s hand is gentle on her shoulder, and his big blue eyes are looking down at her, even though she’s two years older. “Let’s go home.”

The flight back to the Kents’ apartment in the Metropolis couldn’t have been shorter. Clark and Lois give her time to unpack, but if she was being honest, there wasn’t really anything to unpack that wasn’t already present in the guest room that had slowly become hers over the last few months.

As the situation with her biological parents got worse (helped along by a certain liar), Marinette had simply stopped spending time in Paris, instead teleporting more and more to Titans Tower to hang out or train. 

Jon, who had declared himself her brother a year prior, noticed, of course. He was the first, but everyone did after the first month. Damian got his father to jumpstart the process of removing her from her parents’ care, and in the meantime, Clark and Lois offered her the guest room.

Marinette takes the last item out of her pink backpack- a photo of her, Tom, and Sabine at the kitchen counter, taken by Nonna Gina. She's young in this picture, maybe seven or eight, and her face is frozen mid-laugh, entire body coated in flour from a bout of clumsiness. Tom and Sabine are laughing with her.

She stares at it until she feels like she’s on the verge of developing heat vision, then tears the photo in half, separating Tom and Sabine from her.

The part with two people goes into the garbage, and the laughing girl is pinned to her bulletin board.

Healing takes time, and sometimes, it feels as if she has all the time in the world.

She has a support system now- a brother, people that are more like parents than her real ones, a team at her back, and her godfather is the freaking Batman.

Yep. Bruce Wayne, the richest man in the world, who dresses up as a giant bat at night to terrify Gotham’s worst into wetting themselves, declared himself her godfather, and really, who’s going to say no to Batman?

Damian and Jon suspect that he’s just irritated that Clark claimed the newest black haired, blue eyed child with a tragic backstory before he could.

Healing takes time, and she has so much time.

Slowly but surely, she heals, and moves on, with a new family and newly forged bonds that are already so much stronger than the ones she had with her blood relatives ever were.

Then, everything goes to shit again.

Tom and Sabine finally learn that Lila was lying, that everything she was accused of doing were just that- mere accusations. They come to Metropolis, knocking on their apartment door while Bruce and Damian are over for lunch.

“I’ll get it.” Marinette offers, then freezes when she opens the door and sees who’s on the other side.

She doesn’t react, rooted in place by Tom and Sabine’s stares, until she hears Jon from the dining room. “Mari? Is everything alright?”

Instead of a verbal response, she taps her finger against her thigh frantically in Morse Code. T-O-M A-N-D S-A-B-I-N-E. H-E-L-P.

The message must be relayed pretty fast, because everyone is crowding behind her back in an instant.

She doesn’t remember much of the actual argument between her biological parents and her chosen ones, only that she snaps to attention when Sabine speaks her name.

“Marinette.” She says coldly, with a sense of finality. “Come with us. You are going home now.”

Her brain screams no, that Metropolis, the Kents, are her home, and that Paris was nothing more than a cage, but her body, still terrified of the consequences (they never laid a hand on her, but your own parents believing you over a liar and the subsequent emotional and verbal abuse leaves its mark), starts to follow, feet stepping forward until another voice, one that isn’t Clark or Lois, rings out.

“Please don’t walk out that door, Marinette.” The voice is so different, yet the exact same as Batman’s low growl as Bruce Wayne’s blue eyes bore into her soul.

“Nonsense.” Tom snaps. “She is our daughter. We have every right to take her back.”

“I won’t let you.” 

Despite it obviously being a response to Tom’s statement, Marinette gets the feeling that those words were directed at her instead.

The billionaire pulls out a cell phone, dialing a number. “Hey, Tim? Yeah, do me a favor. Are Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng currently in the clear to take back their daughter?” A pause. “Okay then. I see. Mhm. Thanks, Timmy.”

He hangs up and glares at the couple. “You’re not legally authorized to remove Marinette from Clark and Lois’ care.”

A strong but loose hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “Lois and I see Marinette as our own daughter.” Clark says calmly, his words filling her with warmth. “If you want to take back guardianship, we will fight for her.”

“And they’ll have Wayne Enterprises’ legal team at their back.” Bruce chimes in, and she can’t help the smile that splits her face there.

“We’d actually like to make that guardianship permanent.” A smirk curls across Lois’ lips, and Marinette is reminded of why this woman has gone toe-to-toe with death so many times and made it out alive. “It doesn’t have to be settled in court, but if you wanted to test that, I’m sure we could arrange for it to happen.”

Marinette decides that she’d like to add her own piece. “Oh, yes, please do. I’d love to testify against Tom and Sabine in court.” She smiles, the damage done to her just by their presence already being fixed by the steady support behind her.

They visibly flinch when Marinette addresses them by their names and not ‘Maman’ and ‘Papa’ like she used to. Good. That’s nothing compared to how she felt in those last few months.

Sabine smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “That will not be necessary. Have a nice day.”

And with that, she and her husband turn around and walk away. Damian takes the opportunity to slam the door and make sure all of the locks are secured before sniffing, scrunching his nose up in disgust.

“The nerve of them!” He seethes. “How dare they come here and pretend nothing is wrong to try and take her back!”

“Thank you.” Marinette says to Clark and Lois. “You didn’t have to pretend that you wanted to adopt me though.”

“Who said anything about pretending?” Lois replies easily, and the beam that splits Marinette’s face is like a blinding ray of sunshine as she flings herself forward into her family’s arms.

permanent tags

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#maribat #asks #my writing

[world-of-aus]

New Beginnings

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Mobster!Reader / Mobster!Brock Rumlow x Mobster!Reader

Word Count: 4,837

Warnings: talk of domestic abuse(it hints at it so if you are not comfortable i would recommend not reading, Brock being an ass, some wholesome Bucky Barnes content, and reader being a badass.

Author’s Note: My third request sent in by the lovely @morganclaire4​! Two more requests sit in my inbox, almost there! This was so much fun to write and i can’t thank you enough for sending this in! I’m trying daily to improve on my storytelling and i couldn’t help but to spice it up a bit and add some story for you! I hope you enjoy what i compiled for you! There will be an update for Behind the Screen Tomorrow, Family Matters the day after, and my fourth request will be out after that!

“ Hey! I have a request for Mob!Bucky. I was thinking maybe Bucky is married to the reader. Shes always been in a mob and she was married off to another man but Bucky got her out. Whenever Bucky comes home, she is always dressed up (makeup and everything) even if she didn’t go anywhere and she always has dinner made when he walks in. One day he asks her why she’s always doing that. She tells him that it was always expected of her. He tells her that she doesn’t have to do that every night.”

Find My Other Works Here: Main Masterlist

Your heels clicked against the tiled floor, a determination in your stride. The Kraft clasp envelope weighing heavy in your hand as you move forward. You passed the common room Steve and Sam spotting you. “Good morning boys,” was your simple yet quick greeting as you walked past them.

Hurried feet chased after you, Steve’s hand falling to your shoulder bringing you to an abrupt stop, “Steven let me go,” you murmured eyes falling to his hand before sliding up to meet his.

“Y/n he’s in a meeting,” he tried.

“I’m well aware Steve, but he’s also in a meeting with my father, and my scum of an ex-husband those are the ones I’m here to see, not him,”

“Y/n-”

“Steve just like you are Bucky’s right-hand man, I am my father’s, and as my father’s right hand I must inform him of any occurrences going on that could be affecting family business and or bringing harm to one of our own, now if you would please, I need to step into that office to speak with my father,”

He’s eyeing you then, before a sigh is leaving his lips, Bucky could very well have his head for interrupting them, “fine but I'm coming with, at least so it looks like I tried to stop you,”

A smile is tugging at your lips, “oh Steven there is no stopping the hell that is about to rain down on him,”

Steve shocked by your words watches you slide his hand from your shoulder before continuing down the hall. Your head is turning slightly, “You coming Steve,”

You make it to the end of the hall your manicured hand wrapping around the doorknob, as you twist it open the force in which you push it causes it to bang against the wall. Three sets of eyes fall to your calm form, “Father, James, Brock,” you hiss through your teeth, eyes turning to slits as they fall to him.

“Y/n sweetheart,” you father coughs, “to what do we owe the pleasure, we’re just finishing wrapping up a meeting, can this wait” you’ve embarrassed him, good.

Your eyes turn to your fathers a sickening sweet smile pulling at your lips, “actually father, it can’t, you s-”

“y/n sweetheart, the men are talking, I'm sure whatever meaningless thing you have to say can wait till we’re done,” Your eyes are fitting back to Rumlow the grip on the envelope tightening.

“that’s sweet,” you coo, “but you lost the privilege to so much as utter one word to me the second you laid a hand on me,” you flung the envelope at him, “sign the papers Brock!”

Your father is sitting up straighter in his seat, and you can visibly see Bucky’s jaw clenching, “excuse me,” your father speaks up, “what is this about, sign what papers?”

“I’m sorry but it seems your daughter has lost her damn mind,” Rumlow hisses eyes glaring daggers.

“oh fuck you Brock!”

“y/n,” your dad is seething, “that is enough you will not speak to him like that, that is your husband and you must respect him!”

“It’s ex-husband,” you grunt “or at least it should have been,” you muttered looking at your father, lI'm not going to be silenced anymore father, not by you, and definitely not by you,” you hiss pointing an accusing finger at Brock.

Rumlow is standing then the chair he previously occupied falling to the floor with a loud bang as he moves over to you hands gripping your face roughly. Your father and Bucky push to their feet, your father shouting angrily, Bucky about ready to leap over his desk and murder Brock where he stands. Steve is pressed up against your back, “go ahead Rumlow,” you grit, “show them what really went on behind closed doors, show them why because of you I was never able to physically present myself at meetings because there wasn’t enough makeup to cover the bruising you left behind,”

“Brock what is she talking about,” your father growled behind him, “did you lay a hand on her?” your father’s question went unanswered.

“What the fuck do you want y/n,” he hisses voice low, “did I not give you enough, was there not enough money to buy your fucking happiness,”

“Our marriage was one of convenience Brock, an agreement between our fathers so that they could continue to do shady shit without losing any more men,” you hissed, “I didn’t have a say in my future, much less the man I was to spend the rest of my days with, it wasn’t even a marriage certificate I signed that afternoon, it was a damn contract that was written up in the small office of the towns lawyer,”

“Marrying me should have been enough y/n,” he grunted shaking your chin with the hold he had on you, “you had all the money happiness could buy you,”

“Our marriage,” you growled, “should have been a deep and loving friendship, one so strong that you would give your life for me, the way I was to do for you, instead I overlooked your shady lies and “in the dark” actions opting to turn the other eye, I overlooked how you enjoyed the company of various other women more than my own, you made a mockery of me, blaming me for the beatings you would bestow on me, you abused my innocence, abused the love I tried so hard to have for you, well no more Brock,” you grunted pushing your hands into his chest roughly to send him back, Steve moved to the front of you then still leaving Brock in your sight, “I will no longer allow you to hold me bound to you, I no longer want any association with you, and if that means breaking that contract, then so be it, my father and I can find another way to deal with the likes of your men, now sign the damn papers!”

The room fell into silence, “what the hell is going on Rumlow,” Bucky questioned from in front of you, he looks absolutely deadly.

Brock is still staring you down, his tongue running along the inside of his mouth, “apparently y/n felt the need to air the dirty laundry,” a laugh escapes his lips, “bitch didn’t know how to get rid of me, guess she felt the need to go to extreme measures,”

“Did you lay a hand on my daughter,” your father is grunting moving towards the taller man,” Brock is turning to face your father than, “did much more than that,” he hissed, “had her begging me every night to-”

“chose your next words carefully Brock,” Bucky growled eyes growing dark, “unless you’d like me to unload a bullet right between your eyes.”

Four sets of eyes watched Brock move back to where he had sat, hands picking up the envelope as he tore into it. A moment of relief washed over you as he snatched a pen from Bucky’s desk black ink running over the contract. Throwing the pen back onto the desk he moved over to you crowding your and Steve’s space, “he’ll grow tired of you two you know, preparing dinner each night, and making yourself up every single day will only get you so far y/n, there was a reason I found comfort in other women, they provided me the one thing you couldn’t,” he leaned in further.

“ENOUGH RUMLOW!” Bucky growled as he rounded the desk appearing on the opposite side of where your now ex-husband stood. Brock raised his hands in mock defense as he backed away from you, feet moving him towards the door, “I can take a hint Barnes,” he muttered as he stepped out of the room, “gentleman I would say it was a pleasure doing business with you, and I look forward to seeing you again, but that won’t be the case,” he turns to lock eyes with you one last time, “I do hope ridding yourself of me was worth it y/n.”

The room falls quiet at the sound of the door clicking closed behind him, “Steve get her home, her father and I need to have a word,” your eyes are shooting to Bucky, though for the first time since you could remember he’s refusing to meet yours.

“Bucky, I-”

“Steve now please.” Bucky gets out in a strained voice.

You don’t get the chance to argue as Steve turns his body into yours, hands guiding you out of the room.

Your quiet as Steve guides you out of the office, quiet when he tucks you into the car, quiet when he leads you into your shared home with Bucky.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Is his question from where he stands at the door.

A sigh leaves your lips, the truth was out there, no need to hide it now, “I lived in fear Steve,” you began, “I’d be lucky if there was a day or two between his lash-outs, I felt weak, alone, he really did buy my silence,”

“Why didn’t you say just say something to Bucky, he would of done something from the very start, he was taken with you from the very beginning y/n, you know that,”

How could you forget.

“Don’t stray to far y/n, I have some business to attend to,” Brock grunted low in your ear before he was removing himself from you. You made your way towards the bar, but your eyes remained  trained on his back.

“So is your husband the only one allowed to have fun at these things?”

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips but you hide it well behind a glass of wine, “do you have a death wish Barnes, or do you just like to play with fire?” You questioned eyes still trained on Brocks back where’s he crowding one of the many girls in Pierces area.

A low chuckle is leaving his lips, one that has a shiver rolling down your exposed back, “we all know this life can be short, so why not have some fun.”

“Flirting with a married woman is not my definition of fun,”  

He’s sliding closer to you his back to the scene your watching closely, “well lucky for you I’m not a woman, nor am I married,”

Soft laughter fell from your lips, “always the charmer,”

“It’s a shame, your father and my father couldn’t meet, I’d be walking you around this room like a crowned jewel,”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest, “James,” it comes as a warning.

He leans further into the bar the coat of his jacket brushing your arm, “your unhappy doll, he doesn’t treat you right, look where you are and where he is, in the arms of another women, a damn shame if you ask me,” you have no idea you thought.

“Well then it’s a damn shame your father didn’t meet with my father sooner,”

Bucky chuckled a shake of his head, “someday soon you’re going to see your worth y/n and I’m going to be the one to show it to you.”

And for the first time since Brock left your side since arriving your eyes are finally leaving his back to flit over to the man next to you, “don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep Buck,” you murmured voice low.

His eyes are finding yours in the dim room, his face illuminated by the low lights of the bar, “I’m a man of my word y/n, and you and I both now I don’t back down on my promises,” he leans in towards you, “especially if that promises involves you,”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart steadily beating away in your chest. You watch him push off the bar, fingers curling around his drink, “I’ll see you around y/n,” he murmurs a sly grin and wink thrown in your direction.

“He knew how Rumlow was, he just didn’t know to what extent, nobody knew though,” you argued, “not even my own father knew,”

“Is that why you would push him away, fight his advances,” he questions, “because if you say you weren’t taken with him from the beginning as well I’d say you were a horrible liar,”

“I was taken with him Steve and that was the problem,” you cried, “Rumlow picked up on the happiness Bucky brought me, as much as I wanted to run into his arms Rumlow had eyes everywhere!”

“goddamnit y/n,” Bucky growled, “why are you fighting this so hard, why can’t you just admit you feel it too,”

Your heart raced away in your chest, “James, you don’t know what you’re feeling, what I'm feeling,” what I'm going through you thought, “I can’t keep doing this.”

“So then why are you here?” he questioned angrily, “why do you come when I call, tell me why?”

Tears pulled at your eyes, you were hurting in more ways than one, “I don’t know,” you whispered voice wavering from the tears threatening to spill over.  

“Bullshit y/n, you know why, why do you keep doing this,” he questioned exasperatedly, “why do you keep pushing me away just tell me why,”

The first tear fell then, another, and another, “look at you y/n,” he murmured, “your hurting, and I know it’s not because of me, what is he doing to you?”

You wanted to tell him, wanted to scream it out to the world what he was doing, but who would believe you? Brock had assured you every night that nobody would believe you, so why would Bucky be any exception.

Bucky crossed the carpeted room, hands finding there way to your face where he wiped away the tears from your cheeks, “tell me what you need me to do y/n, you know I’ll do anything for you, you just have to say the word,”

More tears filled your eyes sliding down your cheeks, “you can’t Bucky,” you murmured lips wobbling, “you need to go,”you whispered hand finding its way to Bucky’s chest, heart beating steadily under your fingers.

“You don’t mean that y/n,” he tries.

Your shaking your head, the tears still streaming steadily, “please Bucky I can’t, I can’t do this anymore,”

His face falls, and it pains your heart more than any pain Rumlow could ever inflict on you, “you don’t mean that y/n, you know you don’t,”

A sob tears through you, “Bucky please.”

“Is that what you really want,” he questions quietly, “do you really want me to go, because if this is it, this is it y/n, I don’t have it in me to keep doing this back and forth with you,” your heart breaks in your chest because you don’t want this to be the end, but you need to do things right, you won’t have a man fight your battle for you, you won’t be weak any longer.

“i’m sorry Bucky.”

“He shakes his head, “I’m sorry too,” he murmurs pressing a kiss to your head, he moves away from you his feet carrying him towards the door, how badly you wanted to go with him, he turns to face you one last time, “I'll see you around doll, sorry I couldn’t hold up my end of the promise.”

More tears fall from your eyes, a choked sob of his name falls from your lips as you restrain yourself from running to him, it had to be like this, you had to do this right.

He gives you one last teary smile before the door is closing behind him.

“He was a mess you know, that night after you told him you couldn’t see him anymore, I had never seen a man more distraught, and I just couldn’t understand why, I saw the love you had for him,”

A shaky sigh leaves your lips as you wipe away at the tears you hadn’t realized stained your cheeks, “that night that I told Bucky I couldn’t do this anymore I was really telling myself I couldn’t,” you pause, “I couldn’t take anymore of Rumlow’s abuse whether it had been emotional or physical I just couldn’t Bucky had shown me what real love was, how I should be loved,”

“so then why did you push him away?” he questioned.

“had Bucky found out what Rumlow was doing, he would have had him six feet under before he could even give an explanation, much less a single word out, I didn’t want Bucky to know because this was my battle to fight, I had been weak for so long, having Bucky fight this for me would only add to it, and I wanted to go about it right Steve, I wanted to do it so I no longer had any tie to Rumlow, if I wanted to do this with Bucky which I did, I wanted to do it right,”

“so that evening you showed up to the office when I was heading out you had settled things,”

“yeah, or at least I thought I had,” you murmured.  

Shaky legs lead you to the building doors, your heart racing away in your weary chest. Your hands reach for the brass handles but the door pushing open has you stepping back. Steve appearing, he takes a look at you and you catch the moment his defenses go up, “what are you doing here y/n?”

“I need to talk to Bucky,”

Steve’s shaking his head as he steps out of the building his body blocking your entrance, “I think you said enough, I'm not letting you hurt him anymore y/n, he hasn’t been himself and it's been a month!”

Your heart is breaking in your chest, “Steve I just need to talk to him, five minutes that’s all I'm asking, I need to explain myself to him, at least give me that,” you tried.

“why should I give you that chance, when you couldn’t even give him the chance y/n, It wouldn’t be fair, you’re just going to break him further If I let you go in there,” Steve argued.

“Steve please,” you pleaded, “I promise, I just need five minutes, I'm not going to do anything to hurt him any further, I just need five minutes,”

A sigh is leaving Steve’s lips, his demeanor falling, “five minutes y/n,” he grunts moving aside to pull open the door, “but I swear if you leave him in worse condition than he already is, I won’t hesitate to send Romanoff to pay you a visit,”

Any other day you would have thrown him a sarcastic remark in regards to his threat about Natasha, but with the situation between you and Bucky you knew his words were not to be taken lightly.

“he’s in his office,” he adds as you walk past him, “I hope you fix whatever is going on between the both of you, for both of your sake’s”

“I hope so too,” you murmur the shuts softly as you continue forward. The closer you get to his office the more your legs threaten to give in from under you. You could do this, if you were able to overcome all the hell Rumlow had put you through, you could surely do this.

Bringing a shaky hand up to the door, you knocked softly, Bucky’s muffled voice calling you in. You sucked in a breath before moving forward your hand twisting the knob. The air around you grew tense as you walked into the office, the door falling closed behind you. Bucky’s eyes were unreadable, his glare intent on your unmoving form. “what are you doing here y/n?”

“I need to talk to you,”

He scoffed fingers rubbing at his eyes as he pushed away from the desk to stand from his cushioned chair, “you want to talk now, you had the chance a little more than a month ago to talk,”  

You watch him move around his desk as he gather’s his things, “Just give me five minutes to explain myself please,”

His eyes glance up at you, his expression bored, “now why should I do that, y/n when I told you this was it, I meant it, I can’t do this,” he gestured between the two of you, “anymore,”

“Bucky please,” you plead, “five minutes that’s all I'm asking,”

“why y/n, why?” he grunts, “I constantly asked and asked things of you, for you, and you never gave me the time, now why should I do it for you?”

“Because I just need you to listen, I need you to listen because I love you,”

The papers he had in his hands fall to the desk, his jaw clenching, “don’t you dare y/n,” he growls, “don’t you dare throw those words around if you don’t-” he looks away from you fists clenching as he tries to contain himself.

You breathed in deeply, if you were going to say something, now was the time, you only hoped he would hear you.

“Bucky the last time we met, I know I hurt you, but you have to understand it was hurting me to do what I had to do I-”

“Then why did you do it?” he growled, “why are you standing here right now confessing your love for me, it surely wasn’t there a month ago, what changed?”

“I had to do it because I needed to do things right” you argued, “I was going through things James, and I needed to do things right for my sake,”

“you say you needed to do things right yet you were willing to mess up the ONE thing that was going right for you?”

Your anger and frustration were boiling to the surface, this was not how you wanted things to go, “It was a risk I was willing to take,” you hissed, “You don’t know the type of man Rumlow can be Bucky -”

He scoffed cutting you off, “oh I don’t” he hummed, “I know exactly the man he is, yet you still chose him over me, you were hurting and yet you still chose him over me, over us,”

“I didn’t!” you yelled, “if you would just stop interrupting me,” you hissed, “Bucky that night when I said ‘I can’t keep doing this’ that was meant more for me than you, I couldn’t deal with the unhappiness Rumlow brought me when I would return home after being with you, I didn’t want to return to home that was so dark, so lonely, so loveless,” you paused your eyes watering, “I wanted to return to a home that was full of light, full of love, I wanted to return to a home that had you,”

Bucky lips are parting, his posture falling, “then why did you-”

“I needed to do things right Bucky, I didn’t want to have any sort of tie to Rumlow if I was going to chase my happiness with you, I wanted everything you had to offer, I wanted to be loved the way I deserved, I wanted you, but I needed to end things with Brock before I could chase after my own happiness.”

“So, did you?” his question hangs in the air because he doesn’t want to have any hope just yet, he can’t let himself fall again.

Your nodding through a teary half smile, “His lawyer spoke to mine this afternoon, and said they had been signed and sealed,”

He’s moving around to the front of the desk feet away from you, “y/n,” he murmurs shakily, “you better not be joking right now sweetheart, because I swear to-”

“I’m not,” you cut him off, “bucky it has been an unbearable month of not being in your arms, but I'm not going to waste one more second,”

Bucky’s chuckling low, his head shaking, “come here,” and you almost don’t catch his words if it hadn’t been for his arms opening up to you. You couldn’t close the distance between you fast enough as you crashed into his arms. Your arms were wrapped tightly around him, his embrace just as tight, as the tension in him melted away.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured into your hair, “there was so many days I wanted to give in and call, but I couldn’t find it in me,” He’s pulling away from you, his hands finding their way to your face, “why couldn’t you just tell me what you were doing y/n, why go through this alone,”

Your hands rest over his, “Because I knew what you would do if I told you, and this was something I needed to do for me,”

His eyes are staring deeply into yours, fingers running over your cheek, “did you mean what you said earlier?” and there's a hint of a teasing smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“I did,” you whisper.

His head is falling to yours, lips inches from your own, “say it again,” he grins.

“I love you,” you murmur closing the last bit of space left between your lips.

“So he never actually signed them till today,” Steve murmured more to himself than you, “I just wish you would have said something to Bucky earlier y/n, but I understand why you didn’t because if I were Bucky Rumlow wouldn’t have made it out of that office in one piece today,”

“I just hope Bucky can be as understanding as you are, I should have never kept any of this from him, but I was scared,”

Steve’s moving over to you then his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, “he loves you more than you know y/n, I promise you he’s going to understand,” he reassures.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips, “I hope your right Steve, I hope your right,”

Your setting the kitchen table when the front door is opening, Bucky walks through, door closing softly behind him as he makes his way over to you. He stops in the entrance of the kitchen, eyes on you, his hand stretches out towards you. You swallow the knot in your throat as you place the utensils down onto the table your feet carrying you to him.

His arms are around you in an instant, his lips pressed to your hair, “I understand why you couldn’t tell me, I just wish you would have doll, god to think he ever laid a hand on you I could have,”

Your moving your head away to look up at him, “and that’s why I couldn’t tell you, I felt weak Bucky, he took away my strength, he took everything from me, so when I finally made the decision to leave, I needed to do that for myself, you had already done so much for me, you had showed me love, love that I deserved, and I didn’t need Rumlow tainting that for me as well,”

His hands are coming to rest on your cheek, “I just wish I could have taken you away from all that pain and hurt sooner, someone like you should never know a pain like that,”

Your hands come up to rest on his chest, “and with you I never will,”

A loving smile stretches across his face, “I was going to wait off on doing this a little longer, but after the events of today, I don’t think there is a better time than now,” your head tilts in question.

His hands are sliding from your face, as he slips to the floor, a shaky hand comes up to your mouth as he pulls a black box from his slacks.

“Y/n I remember promising you that I would show you your worth, I remember telling you that you should be walked around the room like crown jewl, and I remember promising you that I would be me the one to do all this for you, well sweetheart I'm a man of my word, and I'm also a man that would love to spend the rest of my day showing you just that,” he pauses as he snaps the box open a beautiful diamond staring back at you, “will you marry me?”

A choked sob is falling from your lips, your head nodding furiously.

He’s standing then as he pulls the ring from its box, “it was my ma’s,” he whispers as he slides it onto your awaiting finger.

“Oh Bucky,” you murmur looking from the ring, then back to him, “I love you so much,” you’re laughing through your tears as you jump into his embrace your lips melting with his.

A year later

It’s in his embrace, and the eyes of your closest friends and family when he finally shows you off like a crowned jewel, the two of you swaying to your favorite song.

“you look absolutely breathtaking tonight Mrs. Barnes,” he murmurs into your ear.

You pull away to look at him, painted red lips pulled into a grin, “like a crowned jewel?” you questioned.

He’s grinning then too, “a crowned jewel finally getting what she deserves,” he murmured his lips pressing to yours lovingly.

#new beginning #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #mobster!bucky x reader #mobster!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #protective!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic