#this is not shade to either communities im just saying each of them have some crazy extremists lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

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Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

Pairings: Arvin Russel x Fem!Christian!Reader

Summary: Arvin knew he shouldn’t have left you alone with that new preacher...

Warnings: Sexual assault, physical assault, cursing, Teagarden being a perv, really nothing out of the ordinary for this movie.

Word Count: 5250

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“Arvin! Stop!” You giggled, pushing your boyfriend off of you as he nibbled up and down your neck. There wasn’t anything sexual about it, he just loved to hear you laugh and he knew how much the action tickled your skin. “You’re so annoyin’!” You laughed, cheeks flushed red as you gently pressed on his head to try and move it.

He pressed himself up, looking down at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever lay his eyes on. Arvin was straddling you, his knees trapping your hips beneath him. A hand was placed on either side of your head and he looked down at you, “But you’re so pretty when you laugh.”

“Oh? And I’m ugly all the rest of the time?” You asked jokingly, hands reaching up stroke up and down his arms.

Arvin leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away ever so slightly, hovering just above your lips. Both of your guys’ eyes were still closed as if it were a romantic moment until he whispered, “Ugly as a mule.”

You both busted up laughing and you shoved him, his body rolling onto the blanket beside you, “I’m breaking up with you.” You teasingly told him.

“Ah, c’mon. You know you love me.” He looked over at you, loving how the autumn sun lit up your features.

“I tolerate you. Don’t get it mixed up.” You rolled your head over to see him already admiring you. Your smile got bigger when you locked eyes with him.

“Well I love you.” Arvin admitted sweetly, bringing a gentle hand to your cheek and kissing you one more time.

Arvin made you feel beautiful and special and safe, all those things that no boy had ever made you feel. He always had. Even when you were children back in middle school and neither of you really talked to each other, when you saw him around the halls, a peace just settled over you that made you feel like you were on top of the world. When the two of you began dating ten months ago, that never changed.

“I love you too.”

The two of you laid back against the yellow blanket with little orange flowers on it, the one that you’d taken from the linen closet back home. This was yours and Arvin’s favorite place, a little clearing in the woods. The grass was tall enough to be soft but not so tall that it hid critters. Flowers lined the edge of the woods in the spring. It wasn’t springtime now but that only meant that instead of a display of white and yellow flower buds, the pair of you had a beautiful show of brilliant reds and oranges from the falling leaves.

Everyone in town knew you were together. Word spread fast around Coal Creek and it was nearly impossible to hide anything. Your families were both supportive of the relationship. Emma loved that you were involved with the church and put effort into the community when you could, often participating in bake sales around town. She liked to tease that you won Arvin over with your “man catching apple cobbler” as she now called it, since he officially asked you to be his girlfriend over a slice of the delicious dessert after a Sunday service.

Your parents liked Arvin as well. Even after Fred Dinwoodie had told your dad about what Arvin had done to Gene, it surprisingly made him like Arvin more. “You got yourself a good man who knows right from wrong and ain’t afraid to stand up for the people he loves.” Was what he’d said, which had surprised you. You knew that Arvin had beaten all the boys right after he’d done it, since he came to you to help him calm down and ice his knuckles. You were terrified for your parents to find out, though, sure that they’d tell you to break up with him for fear of violent tendencies. Thankfully, that day never came.

It was nice out there, bundled up in a warm brown coat, laying on Arvin’s chest, and watching the leaves fly across the crisp sky in the breeze.

“We should probably get headin’ back.” You said reluctantly, pushing yourself up to sitting.

“Why’s that?” Arvin perched on his elbow to watch you tighten the jacket around your frame, a cool breeze hitting just right.

“The new preacher asked me to come by this afternoon. Said he needed help planning a fundraiser to raise money for the less fortunate families in town.” You traced a finger over his knuckles gingerly, small pink marks littering his knuckles from his attack on Dinwoodie and his boys still healing over.

“Ain’t you one o’ them less fortunate families in town?” He asked, trying to find a way to talk you out of this. Ever since Preston Teagarden had humiliated Emma on his first day, Arvin had it out for the man.

You scoffed with a chuckle, “Yeah, but you are too and your grandma is still always bringin’ stuff to church. Just cause I’m broke as shit doesn’t mean I can’t try to help other people who are broke as shit.”

Arvin stood up with you and helped you fold up the blanket, “I just don’t like that new preacher. Somethin’s off about ‘im.”

“I agree that he was totally out of line callin’ your grandma out like that two weeks ago but I’d like to think that maybe I can talk to him about it.” The two of you began to walk back to Arvin’s car, grass swishing under your steps.

Arvin’s face twisted, “I just don’t trust the man. He’s always up there on that damn stage actin’ all high ‘n mighty every Sunday like he ain’t done nothin’ wrong.” He reached forward and opened your door for you, closing it after you slid onto the seat. He walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat.

“He’s a sinner like the rest of us. It’s just about doing what you can to make yourself better.” You responded, looking over at Arvin sweetly. He gave you a skeptic look and sighed deeply as he turned his attention back to look towards the road. With one hand on the steering wheel, he slid his free hand over to hold yours gently. The rest of the drive was in comfortable silence, with the exception of the radio quietly playing in the background.

Arvin loved you. He really really loved you. You generally had your wits about you, a heck of a lot more than most of the girls in Coal Creek, not allowing your religion to totally cloud your vision. You were a good girl, good enough to make his grandma happy and not cause too much trouble around town, always helping those in need, but not so pious that you made everyone else around you feel like a sinner. You were still fun, you still made mistakes. Arvin felt like you were something between ethereal and real, somehow elevating him as a person but also showing him just how good life could be.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel like you were making a mistake with this preacher. Of course, with your caring nature, you would help him, especially knowing it was for the poor folks in town. But something about Teagarden just made Arvin’s skin crawl. He just couldn’t put his finger on it…

The tires rolled to a crunching halt on the gravel outside of the church. The graveyard to the side looked dark and gloomy as always, the cloud of loss looming over almost everyone in this town in one way or another. The church, though, stood small and humble in the field, white paint chipping after years of weathering.

“Thank you for the ride.” You leaned over and pecked Arvin on the cheek.

He let out a heavy sigh, “You really sure you don’t just want me to take you home?”

You rolled your eyes at him with a sweet smile on your face, “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be fine, Arv, but thank you for the concern.” Opening the door, you climbed out, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“What? No. I’m givin’ you a ride home.” Arvin looked offended that you even suggested such blasphemy.

“I don’t want you to have to drive all the way back here for me and I don’t know how long this’ll take. Besides, I don’t live too far from here.” You shook your head, leaning against the open door.

Arvin raised his eyebrows, “What kind of man would I be if I let you walk home alone at night? I’m givin’ you a ride home ‘n that’s final. I have to run to the market anyways to get some stuff for my grandma so I’ll just do that ‘n come back here for ya.”

With loving warmth welling up in your chest, you leaned into the car, holding onto the roof for balance, while you kissed him on the lips, “I’ll see you in a few then.”

Pulling yourself back out of the car, you closed the door and waved before spinning to walk towards the church. Looking behind you, you gave Arvin one final wave before disappearing through the door.

The church was empty, though you expected nothing less on a Saturday afternoon. The pews were empty so you wandered into the building curiously. You closed the door behind you as you walked further in. “Hello? Reverend?”

Preston Teagarden approached from the door off to the side of the main stage, where his office had been located, “Y/N! Forgive me, I expected you to be a little bit later.”

You stopped in your tracks, “Oh, I’m sorry! You didn’t say an exact time. Just afternoon…” You chuckled awkwardly, suddenly feeling bad for arriving early.

“No, no, it’s no problem at all,” He waved his hand dismissively. Teagarden made his way down the aisle a few rows before stopping, “So from what I’ve heard, you are the one to talk to about fundraising”

Flattered, your cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “Oh, well I don’t know about that… I’ve done a few fundraisers but I wouldn’t say I’m the one to go to.”

“Nonsense, girl! I’m sure you’ll help plan something amazing. Now, why don’t you come over here and we can start talking about it.” He gestured towards the pew he was leaning on and waited for you to sit down before sliding in next to you.

Your legs crossed when you sat down, “So, I was thinking about this for a few days and the high school has a harvest festival every November. If we set up a bake sale, we could easily raise a few hundred dollars, at least. Everybody loves Mrs. Lyle’s lemon bars and I’m sure those alone could rake in a small fortune.” You giggled a little at your small joke and the preacher did as well.

As he did so, his arm slid behind your shoulder so smoothly, you almost didn’t notice at first. Almost. Though the action took you off guard, you chose to write it off. People had done this before to you platonically so this probably didn’t mean anything. Just a show of interest in what you had to say.

“Mmm, you’re makin’ me crave some sweets,” Teagarden chuckled, looking over his shoulder and then back around the room.

“Well I can guarantee that you won’t be disappointed. Coal Creek ain’t got much but if we got one thing, it’s some mighty good bakers.” You dug around in your bag that you’d brought, searching for the journal that you’d been planning this event out on, “I actually did some math and I was thinking… we could charge a dime per cookie or a dollar a dozen, yeah? And then maybe a quarter for a slice of pie and then a dollar twenty five for-”

The preacher stopped you, placing his hand on the notebook, “You really thought this out, huh? You sure are one smart girl there, Y/N. You go to the high school?”

The older man had scooched closer to you sometime during your ramblings and suddenly, you began to feel suffocated by his presence. His body was nearly flush against yours and his arm around your shoulders were trapping.

He’s a preacher, he wouldn’t do nothin’, you tried to convince yourself but Arvin’s voice came ringing in your ears: I just don’t like that new preacher. Somethin’s off about ‘im. Trying not to be obvious, just in case you were misreading things, you slid away from him just slightly to put some distance between your bodies. As you did so, however, Teagarden’s hand closed around your left shoulder, rubbing it firmly but gently.

Your eyes widened when you looked over at his grip and your heart began to pick up pace. “Yeah.” Your voice was shakier than you thought it would be.

“What are ya? Junior, senior? You look young… but definitely not a little girl.” His eyes raked tactically over your body. Your legs were shaped out well in your cuffed denim jeans and your white and pink striped boat neck long sleeve shirt was far from revealing but Preston was well aware of the way the stripes curved out of place over your breasts.

“Senior. I’ll be graduating this June.” Now your voice was solid and low, just teetering on threatening.

The preacher smiled, “Ah, ain’t that exciting. Such a smart pretty little thing going out into the real world. It’s good to see a nice Christian girl going out there but y’know, the real world is real bad. Believe you me. You gotta be real careful out there. Temptation and sin ‘round every corner. The devil hides himself, y’know? Wraps up all his evil and disguises it as everythin’ you ever wanted.”

“A wolf in sheep’s clothing.” You stated quietly but firmly, looking up to lock eyes with him. Arvin was right. Something was certainly off about this man and you were becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Preston smiled proudly, “That’s right. Now, you gotta make sure you ain’t fallin’ into any o’ his traps.”

Your jaw clenched and your eyes darted around the room before landing in your lap, “I’d like to think I got a good ‘nough head on my shoulders to see Satan working in disguise.”

He tsked, “That’s a good start but you can’t go relyin’ on your own knowledge of the world. You need to let God tell you what’s right ‘n wrong. Trust in Him.” His hand on your shoulder shook you slightly for emphasis while his other pointed upwards towards Heaven.

There was a brief moment of silence in which you could have heard a pin drop before he spoke again, “How is your walk with God?”

You looked over at him with narrowed eyes, “It’s alright. Could be better but everyone’s could, I s’pose.”

“I agree,” Preston’s leg started bouncing and he looked towards the front of the church, where he typically stood preaching, “E’ryone could walk a little closer. Myself included.” He gestured to the front of the church, “Why don’t we pray? C’mon over here.”

He stood up and walked up to the head of the room, just below the cross. Cautiously, you followed him. “I like to think as a man of God, I can do some of His work. Or rather put the good word out there and try to save as many souls as possible. Why don’t you get on your knees? Lemme pray for ya.”

A shiver ran through your spine as you knelt down on shaky knees, eyes going up to the large black cross that hung on the wall. Please, Lord, get me out of this. You prayed silently.

Preston stood behind you, his hands coming to your shoulders as he began, “Lord, today we pray for Y/N and her excursions into the world as a young woman. Help her see through the devil’s delusions and guide her through this world. Lord, I pray that you see Y/N in everything that she is as she dedicates her whole self to you. Give her strength, amen.”

“Amen.” When your eyes slid open, your whole body was shaking.

“So you say you got some good judgement?” Preston asked as you stood up, “Say you walk in the light?”

“I try to but we all have our slip ups.” You answered humbly and honestly, avoiding his eye contact.

Preston hummed, “I seen you with that Russell boy. Y’all going steady?” Silently, you nodded in response. “There’s a lot of temptation in relationships like that.”

It was clear what he was insinuating and it actually made you mad. What right did he have to be poking around in your romantic and sexual life? “Has he ever touched you?”

The bluntness of his question hit you like a rock, “With all do respect, Reverend, that ain’t really none of your business.”

He put his hands up in surrender, “I don’t mean to pry. I’m just concerned ‘bout that boy dragging you down into temptation. Sullying your position with the good Lord, ‘n all.”

“Arvin is a perfectly respectful man. He ain’t draggin’ nothin’ or nobody down.” Your voice was getting more aggressive.

“So he hasn’t touched you? He hasn’t seen you…”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Like I said, that ain’t none of your business. Thank you for your concern for my soul but what Arvin and I do is between us and the Lord. I don’t need no middle man reverend to redeem me.”

He shrugged, “But you know, one of the best ways to get right with the Lord is to surrender yourself. Fully.” He took a few steps towards you and your breathing hitched. There was a sexual tension in the air that made your skin crawl.

“I’ve already given my life to the Lord.”

You weren’t giving in quite as easily as Preston had expected. Those other girls, Lenora and Jeanette Reaster, had been easily manipulated into giving Preston what he wanted. Just tell them they were unclean and needed to get right with the Lord and right into his trap they fell but you… you were different. Smart in the worldy kind of way. You were the first girl to give him a hard time but Preston would be lying if he said he didn’t like the chase.

You were staring daggers at him, your jaw clenched, and your body standing tall and strong. It was almost as if you were trying to prove a point. You could have run, could have darted out screaming about what had happened, but you didn’t. There was no proof and Preston knew it. This was how he got away with it all. No proof, all words and small touches that were just innocent enough to be misread. It wasn’t until he got them in the backseat of his car or in the office in the back of the church that he actually touched them but by then, it was consensual. Sure, for Lenora and Jeanette there was the issue that they were minors but that was the fun of these little towns like Coal Creek, The girl always took the fall. It was always her fault. Preston could get off scotch free and he knew it. He loved it.

Almost like something out of a movie, he reached down and gently settled one hand on your hip and the other on your cheek, pressing his lips against yours without giving you a chance to object. You yelled indignantly against lips but when he pulled away, the hand on your cheek moved to cover your mouth. Preston leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “I am an extension of the Lord’s work. Surrender yourself to me fully to surrender yourself to Him.”

Arvin watched as you walked into the church with a distrusting pang in his gut. There was just something about that reverend that didn’t sit right. It killed him to watch you leave, knowing that you were alone in there with him.

But he also knew you were a big girl. The logical part of his brain kept screaming at him that he was being irrational. The reverend was probably an okay enough guy. He’d never be number one or even number twenty on Arvin’s list of favorite people but that didn’t necessarily mean that the preacher would kill your something. Besides, Arvin really did need to run to the market. Lenora had requested some pecans for a pie she wanted to bake and his grandma needed more milk. It would be a quick trip as town was just a short drive down the street.

Reluctantly, Arvin backed out the driveway and sped off down the street.

The entire time that Arvin was at the market, there was an unsettling tingle all around his body. It got harder to ignore as more time passed. The longer he left you with Teagarden, the worse he felt.

“Just these.” Arvin threw a bag of pecans and a gallon of milk on the counter and paid for it quickly, rushing back to his car. He wouldn’t be having these feelings for no reason. Best case scenario, you were absolutely fine and Arvin was just being paranoid. Worst case scenario… Arvin couldn’t think about it because every time he thought of one, another worse one popped into his brain.

It had only been about twenty minutes since Arvin left you alone with the preacher. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how long planning a fundraiser would take. Church activities had never been his thing but he supported you as long as it made you happy.

He sat in the car in the church parking lot, lighting up a cigarette to calm his nerves. Arvin’s leg bounced anxiously as he watched yet another late autumn storm roll in. The clouds cast a dark gloominess, turning the minimal light left from the mostly set sun a shade of grey.. There Arvin sat for another five minutes, awaiting your exit from the building but it never came.

Fuck it. Arvin twisted his hat on straight and threw the door open, nearly stomping out. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something was wrong. He could feel it.

Sure enough, when he threw the door open, he was horrified. Preston Teagarden had you locked in a tight embrace, his hands running over your breasts. The two of you were standing in the middle of the aisle, right in the center of church. You had a furious look on your face, “I swear to God you touch me like that again and I’ll cut your damn dick off!” You gripped desperately at his hand that was groping you, trying to pry it away but to no avail.

The sound of the door swinging open was enough to draw both yours and Teagarden’s attention. “Get your fuckin’ hands off her!” Arvin wasted no time running into the conflict. Teagarden dropped you and your knees buckled from the unexpected action, landing you on the ground.

He put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, now, let’s talk about this like real men.”

Arvin threw one solid swing to his chin, sending his head flying sideways, “You ain’t no real man. Real men don’t gotta go around gropin’ girls to get off, you sick fuck!” Another punch landed on his opposite cheek and it sent Teagarden to the ground.

You scurried away from him and stood up just ahead of Arvin. Preston cowered, hiding his face, “Please, please, have mercy.” His pleading eyes went from Arvin to you and he lingered on your gaze, knowing that he had a better chance with the mercy approach with you.

He found none. Even with his blood smeared face, his teeth stained crimson, and the way his body shook, you just scowled down at him, “I’m gonna tell e’ryone in this town what a disgustin’ man you are. You think you can get away with this, you’re dead wrong.” You sent a swift kick straight to his stomach, making him curl into the fetal position with a loud groan of pain.

But then he laughed. He actually laughed.

“What’s so damn funny?” You and Arvin both spat in unison, blood boiling.

Preston laid his head back and closed his eyes, an almost serene look of confidence contrasting the blood that covered him and the swelling of his lip, “Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to me. You came to visit the church after hours under the guise of helping me with a fundraiser. But then you used your womanly charms to try and seduce me, a married man of God.”

“That ain’t what happened!” Arvin yelled angrily, fists clenched by his side.

When the words left the preacher’s mouth though, your heart dropped. You knew the truth, Arvin knew the truth, the reverend knew the truth. But none of that mattered if the Reverend told everyone his concocted story because he was a man of God. Why would he lie?

A sadistic smile spread across his face, “It is if I say it is. Ain’t nobody gonna believe two teenagers over a preacher.”

“He’s right.” Your voice faltered as you spoke, nearly coming out as a shattered whisper. When Arvin looked over at you, your face had paled and you looked utterly broken.

It wasn’t so much that the assault itself was enough to break you, though, of course, it had definitely left you with the lingering ghosts of his filthy hands on your body. It was the fact that you knew he’d get away with it, that no matter what you or Arvin said, the town would believe Teagarden.

Arvin swallowed hard, trying to see through the blinding rage. As a boy, he never truly understood the bias that women faced when they were victims of sexual assault- how it was perceived as their faults in towns like this. It had never happened to anyone he knew so he never had much reason to think about it. Now, you were forced to live with knowing that you assailant was going to keep his position as a fucking preacher in town and that you couldn’t do anything about it.

Arvin wouldn’t let it stand.

He stomped forward yet again and knelt over Teagarden, sending blow after blow into his face. Bone crunched bone with a disgusting crack with every hit and you flinched every time.

Your eyes were wide with terror. Arvin’s violent past with Gene Dinwoodie and his boys was not unknown to you. You were the first person he’d gone to after the attack, in fact, and you’d actually supported him for the most part, only wishing that maybe he didn’t send them all to the hospital and only roughed them up a bit. Actually watching him beat someone to the brink of death though was something else entirely.

“Stop!” The word left your mouth before you even knew you’d thought it.

Arvin stopped and looked over his shoulder at you in surprise. He was doing this for you after all.

“Don’t kill ‘im. Please.” You begged, your voice heavy.

“What?” Arvin wasn’t actually sure what he’d intended on doing to the preacher. Sure, he wanted to kill him. That horrified, angry look in your eye as he touched you made a fire burn in him so bright, he didn’t know if it could be put out. But Arvin had never wanted to be a killer. He only wanted to prove a point and make sure that the message stuck. Now that he thought about it, though, he would have to finish the job or the preacher would tell him he’d attacked him.

Your eyes were almost brimming with tears, though none fell. This whole evening had been too much. First the assault and now watching the love of your life throw his good conscience away for you. You wanted the preacher to pay as much as he did but this just didn’t feel right.

“P-please… I don’t want you takin’ the fall for none o’ this. He don’t deserve to die but I think a good beatin’ will give him some time to reevaluate ‘imself.” You’d walked towards Arvin and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

Arvin couldn’t fathom why you’d be protecting this monster. The question was clear all over his face. Why?

“I’m not asking you to stop for him. I’m asking you to stop for you. I don’t want you to have blood on your hands for me. Not for this.” His heart broke seeing you look the way you did, your eyes shining with tears, and your hand a little shaky. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you more.

Arvin grabbed the preacher off the ground by the collar and pulled him up almost a foot, leaning down to get in his disfigured face, “If I ever hear that you went near Y/N or any other girl again, I will find you and kill you. If you so much as look at her again, I will kill you. And if you tell anyone what happened here tonight, I will fucking kill you. You understand? Consider it that mercy you kept beggin’ for.”

He dropped the preacher gracelessly with a thud and wrapped an arm comfortingly around you. For a moment, he was scared that you’d flinch away. You’d never seen him when he let his anger get the best of him and he preferred to keep it that way. He didn’t want you to think that he was a violent man because he really wasn’t. Arvin just cared for a special few so much that he’d do anything for them. He’d never hurt someone he loved though and needed you to know that.

Thankfully, you leaned into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as he walked you back to his car, leaving the preacher an unconscious mess in the middle of the church. When you exited the building, night had fallen upon Coal Creek, casting a fitting darkness over the town.

“Thank you.” You said simply and quietly, looking over at Arvin sincerely on the drive home.

“For what?”

“For everything. Just bein’ who you are.” You paused with a heavy sigh, “But promise me something?”

Arvin looked over at you, taking his eyes off the road for just a second to show you he was listening.

“Promise me you won’t go gettin’ yourself in trouble for me.”

He shook his head, “He deserved-”

“I know what he deserved,” You interrupted, “And I am so grateful that you stepped in to help. But I don’t want you gettin’ yourself thrown in jail or killed for me.”

There was short silence before Arvin looked over with the most sincere look you think he’d ever given you, “I can’t promise that. ‘M sorry, Y/N, but if I ever see you in danger, I’m gonna do what I need to do.”

It wasn’t the response you’d been hoping for but this boy had the ability to make you feel more loved than anyone else you knew. You only wished he understood that you only wanted what was best for him, just like he did for you. “I love you, Arvin.” You admitted, sliding across the seat to lay your head against his shoulder while he drove.

“I love you too.”

#arvin #Arvin Russell #arvin rus #arvin russel imagines #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel imagine #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tdatt #tdatt fics #tdatt imagine

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rukanrin · 3 years

Note

how about a fluffy headcanon about the dmc boys and girls with a deaf/mute s/o 😭💖

Im so sorry about the delay again;-;

I spent some time making mind maps for this because i did attempt to write it but my sister was like 'oh hell naw', none the less enjoy! -The lazy daisy,Ruka

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Dante

-Dante would never make fun of your disability,and if someone else makes fun of it? pray that they know what kind of coffin they want to be buried in

-Hes still a huge cuddle bean,he will either sign (sign language) or tap (morse code) to ask for permission,or if you're not deaf then this man will literally scream morse code patterns

-Will call you his 'silent/oblivious beauty'

- Probably begged Vergil and Trish to teach him how to use either techniques to communicate with you

-If Morrison or lady scold him,he will either start clicking his pen or signing under his table lots of rude or childish nicknames that you can see

-He usually comes home late,so he managed to catch Nico and ask her to make bracelets to let you know when the other is near or home,so that he doesn't accidentally scare you

Vergil

-Poet in blue will buy at least three books to learn techniques to speak with you

-he's very sweet and gentle with you,even going as far as occasionally embracing you and gently swaying side to side with you

-he will never make jokes or nicknames based off your disability,but he may make you smile like and idiot if he's just got back with an arguement from Nero or Dante, telling you stuff like 'that fool,right there,is why the Sparda bloodline looks redicilous'

-he will never rush or stop you from telling him something, always waiting patiently for you to finish,even he sometimes pauses for a second,trying to remember how to say something,which puts a cute grumpy expression on his face

-he wont really depend on technology to help you not get spooked,he will try his best to gently step into your line of sight before doing anything,but you should get used to him appearing out of the blue (I'm not apologising for that joke,nope)

-will leave you little snippets of poems about how lovely silence can be to reassure you he is ok with you being the way that you are

Nero

-one of the most playful boys with this issue

-dun dun dun!he gets a morse code arm from the artist

-he doesn't mind that he cant carry out a full conversation vocally with you,the more challenges with the relationship the more he loves you

-if you get into a compliment fight or you want to say something like 'i don't deserve this/you' he will gently and playfully hold your hand with a smile, probably followed by a little kiss on the nose or forehead

-If he comes home late and doesn't want to startle you,he will install one of those LED chandeliers,which he will keep the remote to,and turn on the light blue lights to show that hes home

-He finds it fascinating, in fact this engulfs him in the world of how to communicate with others,he will buy a shit ton of books to learn from

-he once beat the ever living shit out of griffon for making fun of you on a mission

-he will read poems describing silence and how enjoyable it is,or if you're deaf,like Vergil,will leave you notes with bits of the poems on them

-will make one of his two main familiars appear to show you that he's there,most likely shadow because griffon will take any chance to scare the living essence out of you

-he will never stop you from speaking,but once he did it on accident while cuddling,turning a light shade of red from embarrassment as he allowed you to 'speak' again

Trish

-oh boy,she would buy one of those devices that can function as a live subtitles generator,as well as listen to morse code and decode it,so if you ever see lady or Trish looking a little sassy,turn the device on for a packet of laughter

-she wont let you go on missions because if you get hurt she will blame herself for not staying close,since you cant really call for help,so she wont risk it

-she will most likely communicate using notes at the start,since it would take her a while to learn any other way to communicate,but don't worry,she's really trying to learn it off by heart

-if anyone looks at you and starts to speak with a frown on their face,they are getting a thunderbolt in the stomach from your own wonder woman

Lady

-shes a very gentle girl

-will probably tell you gossips or secrets using any method possible,sometimes having to sprint for her life if one of the Sparda descendants sees or hears her doing so

-she would buy a little glow thingy if you communicate by Morse code

-poor girl spent hours each night learning morse and sign ,so much that you once found her snoozing on a desk with a multiple page word document all with morse code words/sentences

Nico

-the most chill girl about it

-will build a recorder to translate stuff for you,kind of like what Trish has,but with a keyboard option too which can speak out loud

-she can also use wingdings if you like it (i personally love it)

-complain about her driving and she will dramatically fall to the ground and give you puppy dog eyes

#dmc x reader #devil may cry x reader #nero x reader #vergil x reader #dante x reader #dmc v x reader #dmc lady x reader #dmc trish x reader #dmc nico x reader #dmc headcanons

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livesincerely · 3 years

Note

im not feeling the best right now emotionally so i am here presenting you with a free space to ramble about whatever you want because your writing genuinely cheers me up so much

Hello darling!! I’m sorry you’re in a rough mindset, sending all the good feelings and well wishes your way 😘💕✨💗⭐️💕😊✨💗

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about that most recent, how would a proposal/wedding happen in the domestic au? prompt.

It’s so funny, I’d never really thought about a domestic au wedding until I got the ask, but now that the question was put forward, I’m finding that I have a lot of thoughts about it (because of course I do lol.)

I’m not sure yet if this will end up being a whole thing like the holiday fic did, but I definitely have a solid idea for a single moment/one shot that I’m excited about—hoping to get that finished in the next few days!

Here’s a sneak peek at what I have so far! Most of it is stuff you’ve seen before in that original ask but more polished, but there’s some new stuff in there too.... ☺️😉

00000

“So, when are you gonna get married?” Tony asks apropos of nothing, looking between him and Davey with keen interest.

Jack barely manages to keep from choking on his cereal. Davey, who’d been in the middle of spreading a bit of lox on a bagel, slowly sets down his knife.

Charlie aims a kick at Tony under the table.

“You’re asking them now?” he hisses. “I thought we were gonna ease them into the idea!”

“There is no easing them into the idea when it comes to Jack and Davey,” Tony says, his expression tight with the exasperation of the long suffering. “You gotta give it to ‘em straight, right from the get go, ‘cause they’ll never figure it out on their own.”

“Hey,” Jack says weakly, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they all know it.

“So, I’m asking,” Tony determinedly continues as if Jack hadn’t said anything. “When are you gettin’ married?”

There’s a long pause where he and Davey just stare at each other, neither of them quite sure how to respond.

He gets this from you, Davey’s expression says, clear as day.

I know he does, Jack says with a commiserating look, holding back a sigh.

“Well?” Tony demands when the silence stretches on for too long.

“It’s probably a little soon to be thinking about marriage,” Davey eventually says, far more delicately than Jack would’ve managed. “We haven’t talked about it at all yet⁠—”

“Because we only just got together yesterday, Tony,” Jack dryly interjects. “In case you forgot about that little detail.”

“—And we should probably start with the question of if we want to get married before we jump to the when,” Davey concludes.

Tony’s nose scrunches up, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.

“Of course you’re gonna get married,” he says, as if this is plainly obvious. “You’re basically married already, I just wanna know when the wedding’s gonna be.”

“Um.” Davey’s gone faintly pink. “Well, like I said, Jack and I haven’t talked about anything like that yet. We’re comfortable the way we are now, no need to rush into anything⁠—”

“And since we literally only just got together yesterday,” Jack says again, a little more emphatically, just to make sure the point lands, “getting married right off the bat would be all kinds of crazy.”

Tony levels him with the flattest look in all of existence. “You’re crazy if you think you haven’t already been married to Davey for years.”

Jack’s voice catches in his throat, a little blindsided by the truth of that statement. Davey’s mouth opens and closes, the rosy flush of his cheeks shading a touch deeper.

“We’re not thinking about gettin’ married just yet,” Jack says once he’s steadied himself, in a tone that brooks no further arguments. “Dave and I will talk about it when the time comes, if⁠,” he stresses clearly, “we decide that’s what we want.”

“But what, exactly, is holding you back?” Tony asks, stubbornly brooking further arguments anyway. “Like, do you have any actual reasons?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Jack snipes back. “Given that that’ll be a conversation between me and Davey.”

“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Tony says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Pretty much nothing would change, except that the next time someone assumes that you two are married, they’d actually be right instead of simply noticing what was so obvious that even complete strangers clue in to it⁠—”

“Tony,” Jack groans.

“—coming to the perfectly understandable conclusion that you’re together⁠—”

“Tony, that’s enough, we get it,” Jack says.

“—instead of the inexplicable reality of the situation which was that you were, in fact, not together, despite being in love with each other for eight entire years because you’re idiots⁠—”

Jack covers his face with his hands.

“—and given that, like, every aspect of your lives are already tangled together, it’s not really that big of a step for you to just go ahead and make it official.”

Jack sighs so hard he feels it in his bones. “If we promise to talk about this, will you please stop talking about it?”

“Eight years, Jack!” Tony cries, impassioned. “That’s half of my life! That’s more than half of Charlie’s life!”

“Do not bring me into this,” Charlie quickly interjects, “I am a passive witness and nothing more.”

“You’re such a fucking turncoat, Choo-choo,” Tony mutters with no real heat. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”

“Maybe if you could ever actually stick to a plan,” Charlie grumbles back.

“We’ll talk about it,” Jack says loudly, interrupting their bickering before it can gain any ground. “Okay?”

There’s a moment of blessed silence.

Then Tony says, “So, like, right now? Or…?”

“Sure!” Jack says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why not? Clearly, I’m not gonna get any fucking peace until this is sorted—

“Finally!” Tony exclaims. “God, was that so hard?”

“—so go away,” Jack finishes.

Tony’s mouth falls open.

“What do you mean, go away?” he protests, looking genuinely shocked. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I’m not gonna let you sit here and fucking… moderate our conversation, dumbass,” Jack sputters. “Get out!”

“But I really feel like this is the kinda conversation that needs moderating,” Tony disagrees. “It’s not like either of you have a great track record for effective communication⁠—”

“Anthony Ethan Higgins,” Jack warns, nearly at the end of his rope.

Tony rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with the motion. “I am literally just trying to help, you don’t gotta get all defensive about it⁠—”

“Jesus Christ, Tony,” Jack says, completely and utterly done. “Will you please just⁠— Just go somewhere that isn’t here.”

“But are you gonna talk about it?” Tony insists, really digging in his heels. “Because if you’re just gonna not talk about it the second I leave then I think I should⁠—”

“Tonio, juro por Dios—”

“Tony, honey,” Davey finally steps back into the fray, far calmer than he has any right to be, and somehow, miraculously, Tony’s mullish expression softens into something a little chagrined. Jack gapes, wrong-footed by the sudden change. “I think you’ve made your point and given Jack more than enough heart attacks for one morning, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and give us a few minutes, and I promise we’ll talk about it.”

Tony deflates. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Tony shuffles away, mollified for now. Davey pauses, then says, “Charlie, that means you too.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Charlie protests. “I’m just sittin’ here, tryin’ to eat.”

He takes an exaggerated bite of his bagel as if to prove his point, eyes extra wide and innocent.

“Charlie.”

“But my food!”

“Take it with you,” Davey suggests, very patiently.

Charlie looks as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Okay,” he says, scooping up his plate and scurrying after his brother. He hesitates in the doorway, then adds, “My vote is for an autumn wedding, if that counts for anything.”

“Charlie.”

“Going!”

Once he’s sure they’re both gone, Jack heaves another massive sigh.

“They’re such a pair of little shits,” he says, to Davey and the world at large. “Fucking hell.”

Davey takes a drink of his coffee, holding out his other hand to Jack in offering. Jack reaches over and laces their fingers together, most of his irritation slipping away in an instant at the simple contact.

“But he is right, you know,” Davey comments lightly.

“I know he’s right,” Jack grumbles, rubbing his thumb over Davey’s knuckles. “Don’t mean he ain’t a little shit.”

“Well, naturally,” Davey agrees. “He’s related to you.”

“Oh, please,” Jack says with a snort. “That little spiel of his was all you. ‘The inexplicable reality of the situation’,” he mimics, his voice landing in some strange imitation of Tony mixed with Davey, which ends up not really sounding like either of them. “It was like hearin’ your voice comin’ outta Tony’s mouth.”

“And it was a well thought-out argument,” Davey says pertly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a wry grin. “His timing could use some work, though.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Jack says, taking a bite of his cereal⁠ and immediately making a face—it’s gone all gross and soggy during the craziness, because of course it has. He pushes the bowl away with a mournful look. “Didn’t even let us finish breakfast before pouncing.”

“Well, it has been eight years,” Davey says, and he’s definitely laughing a little now. “Guess he’s afraid of a repeat performance.”

“Sure,” Jack says with a shrug, because that part had been hard to argue with. More than half of Charlie’s life, Jesus. “But he was talkin’ like he expected us to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I mean, we can’t just get married. You don’t just get married.”

“Most people don’t,” Davey says, tilting his head. “But then, we aren’t really most people, are we, darling?”

It takes a moment for this statement to fully land for Jack⁠, and when it finally does, it lands with a boom.

“Are you sayin’ you’d marry me?” Jack asks, utterly floored, his heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.

“Are you asking me?” Davey asks, calmly sipping his coffee like he isn’t rocking Jack’s world, right here over breakfast, for the second time in not even two days.

#newsies #javid #*ask #*editor's note #bits & bobs #*the writing desk #the domestic au #i hope this helps a little!#😊✨💕⭐️💗✨💕

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smoochkooks · 4 years

Text

—the (un)holy cock-up (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst

⟶ word count: 14.5k

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, profanity, unnecessary amount of biblical puns, some critic on catholic church, this is a heavy read be aware

⟶ summary: there is a quite long list of circumstances, with student loan and rent on the very top of it, that led you to work in the sunday’s spirit editorial department, a newspaper overally known among fellow catholic community of busan, with park jimin as your boss.

when your small cock-up goes unnoticeably out of your hand, you find yourself in a situation painted in all shades of wrong.

or, alternatively: when it’s forbidden, it tastes bittersweet.

a/n: please, before you read this: take the warnings seriously. this is not a light read, it touches some heavy and quite controversial topics. tit also involves a scene where a person in charge exhibits inappropriate behavior towards their subordinate which I do not condone, however it’s all done with consent.

ps. im really proud of this work so give me some love please:(

Fingertips typing furiously on the keyboards, sights focused on the computers’ screens, brows furrowed, minds utterly concentrated and all of this accompanied by angelic voices of various religious songs playing in the background.

This is how a typical day at Sunday’s Spirit editorial department goes by.

The newspaper is a local source of information for the catholic community not only in the city of Busan, but in the whole country. Its history starts in 70s, when Park Min-Sung with his wife started publishing the very first version of the Sunday’s Spirit, selling copies in front of churches. Young activists definitely hadn’t anticipated such a big success, especially due to hard times of the military dictatorship in Korea, but two decades later they have become one of the most affluent families in Busan. The newspaper remains the Park’s legacy till these days, being owned by Min-Sung’s son, with the original founder’s grandson Jimin as an editor-in-chief.

Sometimes you ponder how did you end up in this kind of situation. Sitting at your desk with eyes glued to the screen, working for the catholic newspaper with Mary did you know and other holy songs playing from the Spotify’s Blessed Hits playlist.

First of all, you aren’t quite a Jesus stan yourself. Not a regular churchgoer, Bible reader or a person who lives according to God’s will with Ten Commandments written on your heart and soul.

Someone may wonder, what a young, aspiring journalist like you is doing here? Yes, that’s right.

Money is the reason.

The perspectives of wealthy life as a presenter in the national television or a host in the radio were just a mirage, because after receiving your master degree in journalism you realised that, unfortunately, a bright future was bright only in your unreal dreams.

The case was simple. You needed money. Your bank account was literally screaming at you to get your shit together and figure something out before you end up under the bridge. So you started searching for a job, looking over various offers on the Internet for two weeks straight. A waitress? Nah, too clumsy for that. Jewelry seller? Definitely not, since you are a happy owner of a few pairs of earrings from etsy-like online shop that certainly have nothing to do with real gold. You were almost convinced you’re destined to be a sexworker but then you stumbled upon an offer from the Sunday’s Spirit.

It was your chance. A God himself decided to take pity on you.

In that exact moment the genre of the newspaper wasn’t important. The vision of bankruptcy was enough for you to wear knee-length black skirt, white button-up shirt and a pair of high heels you’ve never worn before and go on a job interview with plastered smile on your face, looking delightful like you have just given birth to Jesus Christ in Bethlehem.

All the Hollywood actresses could be put into shame after your Oscar-winning performance you acted out on the interview in front of middle-aged woman in checked jacket that no one wears since 90s. Your enthusiasm and assurance you live good, catholic woman’s life, along with your master degree and motivational letter (you added a quote from The Letter to Philipians at the end of it to spice it up) was enough to be accepted for the position of Ask and you shall find column creator.

The job itself wasn’t complex or tough. The newspaper on its online site has a page where people can create an account and send asks to the author of the column who responds to them. You did something wrong and you aren’t sure it should be considered a sin? Having problems with regular praying on mornings and evenings? Write to us and we will solemnly help you with the God’s blessing, it says.

This is basically how it works. Each week, the said journalist chooses the most interesting questions and answers to make an article to the Sunday’s Spirit’s next publication. Of course, you can’t answer those questions the way you would like. You must do it according to the catholic laws and God’s plan (the True God’s plan, not Drake’s). A woman who interviewed you even gave you a notebook full of already made-up responses and a list of things you definetely mustn’t write if you still want to be employed.

To be completely frank, you don’t hate your job that much. You actually feel kind of nice, helping other people with their problems. You’ve been doing this for six months now and during this period of time you got used to some things.

A ‘Jesus, I trust you’ framed picture you swore your mother gave you on your 16th birthday standing on your desk. Holy beats blasting through the speakers until you leave the office at 5pm. A big-ass cross hanging right in front of the entrance to the editorial. Lee Chin-sun, the Weekly News column author, rushing to Park Jimin’s bureau every day at different hours in her pencil skirts and high heels knocking on the floor.

There’s only the Pentecost in the middle of the office that could actually surprise you.

“Looks like our Mary Magdalene is going to Jesus cave again,” mutters Kim Taehyung, the newspaper’s main photographer, friend from your desk and, actually, the only friend you have here. Very much gay and just like you, in desperate need for money. “It’s her third visit today. I wonder what it is this time. New prayer to Pope Francis she found?” he whispers and you chuckle at that quietly, looking around if anyone pays attention to your conversation, but everyone seems busy doing their own stuff. “Maybe she’s sucking his dick right now and we all think they are playing Who said it? Bible edition,” he adds in a hushed tone.

You start thinking about it for a while. Is that really possible for someone like Park Jimin, the editor-in-chief of the Sunday’s Spirit to have a sexual relationship with his coworker? The man who has a smaller version of Pietà in his office?

“I mean look at him. I would smash that ass too.”

You roll your eyes at Taehyung words, going back to your previous task but every time you try to concentrate, the face of your boss appears in front of your eyes uncontrollably.

Truth to be told, Park Jimin was a sight.

Blond hair, always perfectly styled and simply parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Dark, sharp eyes that seem to pierce right through your soul and full, plump lips which could only be described as kissable.

He wears only high fashion brands, wandering through the office in Prada and Tom Ford suits that hugs his sculpted body just right. You think that as for a person who never misses Sunday’s mass, Park Jimin has also nice thighs. And a fine piece of ass, as Taehyung would describe it.

Newest Rolex that costs probably more than you will ever earn in your entire life on his wrist, Mercedes who just got brought out to the international market standing on his parking spot in front of the building, an apartment in the most luxurious area in Busan.

Park Jimin inhales God’s mercy and exhales money.

You spoke to him more explicitly only once, on your first day at work. He greeted you and wished good luck, saying that everything will be fine because you know, God’s good. Since that day, Park Jimin seems out of your reach. You contact him only through email, sending articles for him to check and approve, occasionally receiving some short message from him to improve this and that. He rarely leaves his office during working hours but when he does, it’s either for business meetings outside the editorial or for a lunch at nearby restaurant.

There’s also one, special occasion, every Friday, that’s a sacred time for all the employees. The clock hits 12am and so it begins. The angelic voices stop singing and everybody shifts on their sits.

“Oh, Holy Judas. I almost forgot about my favourite part of the week,” Taehyung sighs, standing up from his desk. And by that, he means-

“Friday’s Bible contemplation lunch break, everyone please gather up at the cafeteria.” Park Jimin’s sweet as honey voice says through the speakers.

You stand up from your chair with reluctance. Taking food with you, you go to the cafeteria, following Taehyung.

That’s actually the next thing you got used to while working at Sunday’s Spirit. Bible contemplation meetings are, as you found out from Taehyung, Jimin’s idea after he became an editor-in-chief almost one year ago. Every Friday all the workers sit together, eat their lunches and listen to Jimin as he reads a certain chapter from the book with true admiration written on their faces. After that, he usually asks some questions holding a discussion among the participants who, unlike you, happily takes part in.

The cafeteria looks rather normal, like any other lunchrooms you see in offices. Painted in bright yellow colors, with a few tables and a typical kitchen set in the back. Except for one thing.

A replica of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper hanging on the wall.

You decided a long time ago that you don’t want to know how much money it cost Jimin to have something like that here.

The newspaper’s workers, almost like the twelve Apostles, sit together by the tables. Lee Chin-sun at the very front, looking completely mesmerized by today’s Park Jimin’s appearance. He’s wearing navy blue suit that Taehyung swears it’s from Hugo Boss. The place next to Chin-sun is always occupied by tall, black-haired guy named Choi Eunwoo, main graphic designer, hopelessly in love with her since his first days at work. Behind them there’s a group from emendation department, with their leader Min Yoongi and other journalists. You always sit with Taehyung at the back, near the kitchen, not necessarily paying attention to what’s happening in the front.

Jimin, as on every Friday, walks to the small podium, designed to look like a pulpit in the church and opens the Bible. But one thing is odd: Jimin ain’t no priest or altar boy himself and he certainly dosen’t look like one, flipping through the pages of what you think it’s New Testament this time.

From your point of view, you could practically see how Chin-sun sighs with content expression on her face, lacing her fingers together on the lap and straightening her back. Eunwoo, on the other hand, shifts uncomfortably on his seat, sending Chin-sun quick glances full of unspoken longing she never acknowledges, to his dismay.

Then, Park Jimin clears his throat and the whole cafeteria goes quiet.

Truth to be told, you never really listen to what he’s reading. This time is no different. You just chew on your avocado sandwich, occasionally taking a sip of coffee. Your boss’ smooth voice reaches your ears faintly but you don’t pay attention to it, focusing on eating and Taehyung’s hushed rumbling instead.

“Look at our Mary Magdalene, she looks like she might burst a nut just by listening to CEO Jesus,” he says, making you peek at the girl.

Mary Magdalene is a nickname that Taehyung made up for Chin-sun when he started working at Sunday’s Spirit, mainly because of her attitude and relationship with Jimin. It’s rather platonic, at least for now. She looks at him with pure admiration on her face and she literally melts everytime he smiles at her. But Chin-sun’s ‘stalking’ isn’t unreasonable. Her father is a well-known philanthropist in Busan. He donates catholic charities, churches and, what’s the most interesting – he has some connections with Jimin’s father, the owner of Sunday’s Spirit.

And here’s the thing: Chin-sun’s hare and hounds definitely have some hidden reason. Maybe the whole marriage thing that has become a gossip in the office is true. Which makes poor Eunwoo’s situation even worse.

“Sometimes I wonder why has he fallen in love with her in first place,” you whisper, pointing at the graphic designer. “He knows he stands no chance against Jimin.”

“What can I say, you can’t help who you fall in love with.” Taehyung muses almost poetically, shrugging his shoulders.

You hum at that, placing your coffee cup on the table and looking around the cafeteria. It seems like Jimin has ended his reading session for today and now he invites everyone to join the discussion about the topic. He flashes Chin-sun a gentle smile and you could swear the girl is biting her lip.

On the corner of your eye you see Taehyung smirking.

“What?” you ask.

Taehyung takes a sip of his coffee lazily (it’s always caramel macchiato), peering at Jimin. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if our boss really wants to settle not only with Chin-sun, but anyone in general,” he says languidly.

You furrow your brows. “What makes you think that? I mean, look at him. He probably waits with sex till marriage.” you snort.

Taehyung chuckles at your words. “Ah, sweetheart, you really know nothing about Park Jimin.”

“What do you mean?”

He moves closer to you, leaning towards your ear. “What I mean,” he whispers, “is that Park Jimin isn’t such a prude everyone thinks he is. At least he didn’t use to be.”

You raise your eyebrows at him with disbelief. “What? He’s secretly gay?” you mock.

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I wish, but no, he isn’t,” he answers with a sigh. “Do you know Min Yoongi from emendation team?” he then asks, pointing at grey-haired man with feline eyes sitting behind Chin-sun.

You nodd your head. Min Yoongi is a hard to read guy. Always suspiciously silent, practically never leaves his office. Something makes you wonder how did Taehyung end up befriending him enough to casually gossip about the boss. You will ask him about this on another occasion.

“So here’s the thing,” Taehyung begins, lowering the volume of his voice. “He used to study at the same university in Seoul with Jimin. They even had been together in the fraternity. Yoongi-hyung told me some juicy details about our boss’ life back then.”

You frown at his words. “And you are telling me this now?!” you hiss.

“I found out literally two days ago!” Taehyung exclaims, maybe a little too loud, so you quickly place your index finger on your lips, shushing him.

“Fine. Continue.” you whisper, looking around to see if anyone pays attention to you.

“Well, Park Jimin used to be a trouble back then. A golden boy of his family in Busan, but a campus fuckboy and obnoxious heartbreaker in Seoul. He smoked cigarettes, drank enormous amounts of alcohol, got wasted on every weekend, missed classes and changed hair colors as often as his girlfriends. By the way, don’t you think he would slay pink hair?”

“Taehyung can you please–”

“Okay, okay. Enough thirsting over Jimesus. So, as you can see, there was no place for Sunday’s mass and Bible contemplation meetings in his life. And here’s the awaited plotwist. His parents somehow found out his son wasn’t living good catholic life on his studies and got extremely pissed off. They simply gave him an ultimatum: if he doesn’t stop his shenanigans, they will cut him off their money and they won’t make him Sunday’s Spirit heir.” Taehyung stops his rumbling for a while, letting you proceed all the bewildering informations about your dear boss he has just revealed.

Your eyes simply widen at the revelations.

Park Jimin, the man who organises Bible contemplation lunch breaks, a regular churchgoer, someone who you always thought has a cross tattooed on his back, was a playboy who slept with a half of the female community in the university?

Interesting.

“Rest of the story is simple. He changed his behavior, got a master degree in journalism and came back to Busan to work here. What is funny, his first position was the same as yours now,” Taehyung ends his story with a light chuckle. “Now you understand why it’s hard for me to believe he really thinks about getting married and having at least three kids.”

You look up at Park Jimin, who’s standing now in the centre of the cafeteria, with his arms crossed over his chest, nodding at one of the journalists words. His gaze is so intense and filled with such an authority that makes you understand why Chin-sun literally squirms when he looks at her that way.

It’s not hard for you to imagine him in much different surroundings.

Him, standing with a cup of beer in his hand in the middle of the crowd of drunken people at some frat party. There’s a leather jacket on his shoulders and he’s wearing tight-fitting pants that hugs his gorgeous thighs much better than his usual slacks he puts on every day before he sets off to work. He scans the room with a mishevious smirk dancing on his features, biting and licking his lips as he looks for his prey for tonight.

He then spots her, his pick for the night. He runs his fingers through his silky locks and approaches the girl, whispering dirty promises to her ear as he sways their bodies to the rhythm of loud music blasting through the speakers. Later that night he has her underneath him, begging him to touch her. He fucks her hard, leaving bruises all over her limp, exhausted body. There will be soreness between her thighs in the morning and a few violet love bites on her neck, a gentle reminder that all of this wasn’t just a dream.

But there’s no warm body next to her she could wake up to, no ‘good morning, baby’ or a second round of love making between the sheets. Because Park Jimin isn’t like that. He waited until her breath slowed down and eyelids fluttered shut, drifting her off to sleep. He left in the middle of the night, a cigarette caught between his swollen from kisses lips. He fumed the poison and smiled to himself, wondering what his parents would think when they found out. A golden boy of his family, future heir of the Park’s legacy, coming back from one of his sexcapeds with girl which name he didn’t even remember.

The Lord himself must have already cursed him and he’s currently planning the punishments for him in depths of Hell. But does Park Jimin look like he really care?

You stare blankly ahead, imagining those scenes in your head. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs because God, yes, Park Jimin is hot, even if he reads Breviary before he goes to sleep. What a shame he has changed.

A smooth like honey voice pulls you out from your airy-fairy slumber.

“Miss Y/N?”

You jolt in panic after hearing your name, glancing around and praying that wasn’t the person you think it was. But this silky, melodious voice you would recognize everywhere.

God hates you though, he knows what kind of scandalous things you were daydreaming about and now it’s his time to punish you.

Looking up, your gaze settles on no one other than Park Jimin, who stares at you with his left eyebrow raised, pursing his lips. He extinguishes the aura of pure dominance around him and you involuntarily blush, squirming under his intense glare. You’re royally screwed.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down rapidly beating heart. Without success.

“Yes, sir?” you manage to answer innocently. Certainly not like you weren’t thinking about being fucked by him minutes ago. You don’t even have time to be surprised he remembers your name.

Park Jimin looks unamazed by your sweet tone; he almost seems bored, but definitely irritated. “I asked you a question and I’m waiting for your response.” he says lowly.

Fuckfuckfuck. God have mercy on you. What was the question? Shit, you don’t even know what fragment he had read before.

In act of complete desperation you elbow Taehyung for help but this little shit pretends he has no idea what’s going on, looking at The Last Supper with sudden interest.

You are purely, loyally, utterly fucked.

You adopt the most charming smile you could muster, knowing that it will have zero affect on Park Jimin and ask, “Could you repeat the question one more time, sir? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you correctly.” Jesus, when has your voice become so high-pitched?

A cruel smirks forms on Park Jimin’s lips. He shakes his head, tsking. Taehyung mutters something under his breath that sounds dangerously close to “It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” You gulp, waiting for your sentence and hoping Pontius Pilate will be gracious to you.

“My, my,” Jimin muses. It makes you feel like a little girl being scolded by the teacher due to her outrageous behavior. You bite your lip so hard you might draw blood, waiting for your boss’ next words. “Of course you didn’t hear my question, because you weren’t paying attention to our discussion.”

In the corner of your eye you see Chin-sun shaking her head with detestation. What a bitch, you think to yourself.

You take a deep breath then, nails digging crescent moons on the skin of your palms. You don’t like being in the spotlight, you never did, but now you have no choice but face the consequences. “My deepest apologies, sir. The behavior I exhibited was highly inappropriate,” you say, bowing your head. Jimin eyes your figure from head to toe and you might actually feel his burning gaze on your skin. Your cheeks flush in crimson even more.

The editor-in-chief seems to deliberate with himself for a while, turning his head slightly to the side, not breaking the eye contact with you. Finally, after a moment that seems to last an hour, he speaks.

“I think you need a lesson that will teach you to pay attention to our weekly discussions, miss Y/N. That’s why I want you to write a 4000 words long paper about the role of Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ’s life which we had discussed today but you, unfortunately, didn’t acknowledge it.”

You freeze. Like a scene in the movie, everything stops. The embarassement you felt earlier is quickly replaced by pure anger and irritation. He wants you to write a fucking paper? What is this? University lectures?

Never before in your entire life have you felt so humiliated. All eyes are on you; you could practically sense how they are trying not to laugh out loud. Eunwoo and Taehyung look at you with apologetic faces while Chin-sun smirks, whispering something to Jimin’s ear.

“I apologize once again, sir,” you grit through your teeth with a forced smile. Jimin nods then, not even bothering to look at you again. You’re dismissed, that’s what his behavior is saying.

“Our meeting is over, you can go back to your work.” Jimin announces and walks away from the cafeteria with Chin-sun by his side.

You wait for everyone to leave and the you let out a groan of annoyance, burring your head in your hands.

“Hey, it could have been worse. He didn’t fire you after all.” Taehyung laughs but he quickly shuts up as soon as he sees your glare. You stand up from your chair with a scowl written all over your face, and storm out of the lunchroom.

And may the God help you.

Later that unfortunate day, you sit by your desk again, scrolling through the Ask and you shall find page absentmindedly and waiting for the new asks to come. Everyone has returned to their work like nothing has happened but it doesn’t stop you from feeling all those eyes constantly on your back. Maybe you weren’t fired but the humiliation and embarrassment of being told off by your boss publicly makes you want to disappear and never show up at the editorial again.

“Y/N,” Taehyung’s deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look up at him and find the man smiling at you lightly. He’s wearing a long, camel coat and a big scarf around his neck with ridiculous patterns that reminds you of Persian diwans. He places his black camera bag on the desk, which means he’s leaving the office. “I’m free of office work for today so I just wanted to say goodbye.” he explains and you just nod.

“Bye, Taehyung. See you on Monday.” you say maybe a little bit to wryly and he feels that, letting out a long sigh.

Taehyung seems to deliberate with himself for a moment before he decides to speak again. He clears his throat audibly. “And I, uhm, I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you are in this situation. I started this conversation and I should be the one writing this stupid paper for Mister Prude.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the new nickname Taehyung gave Jimin. The anger you felt before drifts away from you slowly, and you smile at your friend apologetically. “Oh, God, Tae. I’m such a bitch sometimes, sorry,” you blurt out.”I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at him. Besides, maybe that’s good I’ve got homework. I don’t remember when was the last time I wrote some-”

Your words are interrupted by a loud laugh that resonates through the office. You look in the direction of the voice just to see Chin-sun with her manicured hand on Jimin’s chest, throwing her head back from the laughter, too dramatically for your taste. She seems to have changed her clothes, a black pencil skirt long forgotten and replaced by a red, bodycon dress. Her dark hair is also styled differently, curled and loose. She looks beautiful, matching Jimin’s appearance perfectly.

“Where are they going?” Taehyung whispers to you, furrowing his brows. You shrug your shoulders, tearing your eyes of Chin-sun and Jimin. “Maybe our Mary Magdalene’s plan to win Jesus’ heart is working. Poor Eunwoo,” he sighs, looking at his watch to check the time. “Anyway, I gotta go. I have to drive all the way to some shithole near the city to take photos of an old lady who swears she saw saint Francis or other dude with halo speaking to her,” he grumbles and you giggle at his words. “Good luck with your paper, sweetheart.” he leans and places a small peck on your cheek.

“Bye, Tae.” you say, watching him leave the office right after Jimin and Chin-sun.

You let out a long, tired sigh, counting the time to leave the office and finally be back home, with a bottle of red wine and new season of Game of Thrones that are waiting for you to watch the whole week. Then, when you’re about to stand up and make yourself another coffee, a new ask pops up in your inbox with the title ‘Sex S.O.S’.

You raise your eyebrows because honestly, what kind of title is this? Curiosity wins the battle with a hot cup of an americano and you click the show more button. You put on your prescription glasses and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyfriend. And here’s where the actual problem begins. I’m from the catholic family with long traditions, and as you can guess, he isn’t.

We’ve been together for almost 2 years now and since my parents don’t want me to live with him before the marriage, there’s also no sexual life between us. I was actually surprised they agreed I can date a non-religious person in first place, so the rules weren’t that horrible at the beginning.

My boyfriend always seemed to be understanding about the fact that I’m catholic and he has never had issues against it because I stated this on the start of our relationship, but lately… he’s been distant. We meet up less often and I feel like simple kissing after 2 years isn’t enough for him. I even thought about initiating something that wouldn’t necessarily involve the real intercourse but I’m too inexperienced and shy for that. We are slowly drifting apart.

I don’t know what to do. I love him so much and I don’t want to lose him just because of some stupid rules I need to follow. I’m scared he will leave me for some other beautiful girl who wouldn’t have anything against sleeping with him, especially after considering the fact that he isn’t virgin unlike me and he experienced this kind of pleasure before.

I hope you will help me.

Yours faithfully,

Kang Seoyeon.

You blink once, twice. Read the message again and then, something snaps in you.

To Hell with these stupid, old-fashioned rules straight from the Middle Ages. To Hell with celibacy till marriage, masturbation prohibition and living according to God’s will. To Hell with Park Jimin and his ridiculous moral code (and his Bible contemplation lunchbreaks).

Unofficial eleventh commandment: If a girl wants a dick, she deserves to have it.

And that’s exactly what your response to the girl is in a nutshell.

Your blood boils in your veins with anger as you’re typing furiously on the keyboard, not even bothering to check if your sudden outburst makes any sense.

Dear Seoyeon,

It’s Y/N here, the journalist who you wrote this message to.

I don’t know what kind of response are you expecting from me but honestly? If you think I’m going to recommend you some praying to Saint Rita then you’re wrong. I’m done with this shit.

Let me make this straight: if you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy.

They are plenty of worse things in this world than having sex with the person you love. Look at me. I’m literally writing to catholic newspaper while using words like ‘God’ and ‘Fuck’ in the same sentence. And that’s not even a small piece of what I’ve done in my life.

So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this. You have my blessings and Jesus is giving you metaphysical thumbs up from above. Sex is amazing thing and you don’t have to wait for it until you say ‘yes’ in front of some guy in black cassock. Just go with the flow.

May the God help you!

Love, Y/N.

P.S. Watch out that guy. He seems suspicious. If he’s been really sex deprived for two years he will die after you give him a head.

Sent.

You exhale loudly, staring at the screen. You did that. Six months into working in Sunday’s Spirit and the time when you lost your temper has finally come. You should probably feel ashamed or have some type of conscience pangs but actually you aren’t even near this state.

Grinning to yourself, you delete the message you had sent to the girl from your inbox and check the time. It’s almost 5pm and it looks like you haven’t even realised you’re the only person at the office right now. Since it’s Friday and Jimin has already left, seems like everyone has decided to set off earlier too.

You turn off your computer, packing your things to the bag. Wrapping a scarf around your neck tightly, you leave the building, welcoming the coolness of the early Spring evening in Busan.

When you’re about to cross the street, your phone buzzes in the pocket of your coat. You stop for a moment, smiling to yourself when you read the message.

[04:23pm] from Tae: hey

[04:23pm] from Tae: i know you are probably planning an evening with mary magdalene n jesus but

[04:23pm] from Tae: wouldnt u want to go for drinks with me tonight?

[04:23pm] from Tae: same place as usual

[04:24pm] from Tae: as a wise man once said: nothing helps better for the writer’s block than vodka

[04:24pm] from Tae: so what do u say?

You don’t need to think twice when you quickly type a response. Game of Thrones and wine can wait till another time.

[04:26pm] from me: how could i say no to kim taehyung and vodka?

[04:26pm] from me: see u there

Kim’s is a place like no one other in Busan.

You wouldn’t even know about its existence if it wasn’t Taehyung who took you there first when you started working at Sunday’s Spirit, solemnly promising free drinks. Who would you be if you didn’t agree to that?

When you arrived at the bar, it eventually turned out the alcohol was costless hence it’s his family business since over thirty years and his brother Namjoon is a bartender, not because Taehyung willingly decided to pay for you.

Kim’s is located in rather industrial part of the city, sandwiched between factories and huge housing estates, not looking really inviting at first glance, but the place has its own, unique charm. There are some stories, shrouding the building’s history in mystery. Some people say it used to be headquarters of the most dangerous mafia in Busan, some even believe it served as the secret arsenal during the Korean War.

But what’s definitely true, it’s the fact that Taehyung’s parents bought this place in swinging times of 80s for a small amount of money and turned the place into disco bar which had become a must-go spot for young people in Busan.

Kim’s on the outside, with its large red neon sign hanging above the entrance, looks more like a night club than a bar, but on the inside the magic of kitschy 80s still remains the same (Taehyung swears retro is in fashion these days and that’s why he didn’t let his parents redecorate when they wanted to).

You always feel like you’re traveling back in time when you visist Kim’s.

The place is quite big, with a large dancefloor in the middle and red leather sofas strewn around the place along with the tables. Walls are made of brick and colorful, vibrant neon lights are shimmering on them. Oh, not to mention the huge disco ball on the ceiling. Everything accompanied with the quality music provided by Namjoon.

There are few billiard and foosball tables in the corner of the bar, always occupied by the same group of middle-aged men on weekdays and university students on weekends. But the thing that attract attention of the customers the most, is the bar with Namjoon behind it.

When you enter the place, you spot Taehyung and his blond mop of hair immediately. He sits on one of the bar stools, talking to his older brother. He’s wearing beige pants and floral button-up shirt that seems to match colors with his pinkish-looking drink he holds. You notice a new pair of sapphire earrings and a huge ring from the same collection on his forefinger. Classy, as always.

Taehyung grins broadly when he sees you. He puts his drink on the counter and stands up to greet you. His breath smells like strawberries and vodka when he leans to place his usual, small peck on your cheek. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says with his signature smirk plastered on his face, scanning your figure. “You look gorgeous. Last time you did this kind of make-up you wanted to get laid.”

You rolls your eyes at his words, sitting on a stool next to him. “Hi, Taehyung. Thank you for appreciating my efforts to look like a decent human being but no, I’m not planning on getting laid tonight.” you answer, waving to Namjoon who makes drinks for a group of girls a few meters from you. He smiles bashfully at you, showing his dimples.

“I’m not saying you want a fuck, calm down. I just assumed since it’s not everyday that you put eyeliner on,” Taehyung explains himself. “So let me do that again,” He takes a deep breath, placing a hand on his chest in a dramatic manner. “Y/N, you look absolutely breathtaking. I could stare at you for hours and I wouldn’t mind that even a bit. My homosexuality is at risk right now.”

You ignore his exeggarated outburst, rolling your eyes. “I’m not using eyeliner everyday because there’s something called dresscode in our work, you know?” you say. “Besides, my mum says you should look good on every occasion because you don’t know when you will meet the love of your life.”

Taehyung puts a hand on his heart and sighs with relief. “Thank God I always look good.”

You chuckle and then your eyes wander for a moment to Namjoon, who seems busy listening to whatever the pink-haired girl is telling him with polite smile on his face.

“Here,” Taehyung nudges your side, bringing your attention back to him. He hands you the same pinkish drink as he was drinking when you arrived. “Hyung told me it’s their new specialty or something. It’s called Flamingo’s Beach,” he says and you take the glass in your hand. “I have no idea what Namjoonie-hyung put here but as long as it looks good, it’s good. Cheers!” Taehyung sips his one and watches you with raised eyebrows as you’re taking a generous gulp of the drink. “And…?” he asks.

You lick your lips, humming to yourself. “Not bad. Tastes like strawberries.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to say something but he gets interrupted by his brother. “Y/N, hi. How are you?” Namjoon approaches you with two beer mugs in his hands.

His hair is back to his natural brown color now, purple strands long forgotten since the last time you saw him. It looks like he’s been working out lately, his posture more bulky and it makes his black shirt stick to his body tightly. Namjoon’s good-looking, you always knew that, but he seems to be even more handsome now.

“Hey, I’ve been good, thank you,” you greet him with maybe too much enthusiasm for your liking. You always had a weak spot for him. “How’s the bar going?” you ask.

“Busy, as you can see,” he replies, chuckling to himself. “I would love to talk to you more but I have some work to do in back room, so…” Namjoon trails off sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

“Oh, it’s okay. We can catch up another time.” You smile at him and you could swear his cheeks flushed.

“I’ll be going. See you.” Namjoon stammers out, not even waiting for your response before he disappears from your sight.

The pregnant silence sets in between you and Taehyung, something heavy hangs in the air and you feel it, tapping your fingers on the counter to the rhythm of one of the ABBA songs, waiting impatiently.

Taehyung looks like he’s debating with himself in his head. You narrow your eyes. He’s adopted a face you know pretty well, too well even. He looks everywhere but keep avoiding your gaze. He wants to ask you something, you’re sure of it, but he doesn’t know how.

Finally, after a moment of awkward quietness, Taehyung finally opens his mouth. “So, here’s the thing,” he starts and you wait for the bomb to drop.

Last time when he approached you like that, he asked you if you would be down for a threesome with him and some guy he met on Tinder. Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you heard his blunt proposition. You were eating lunch at cafeteria and the words casually slipped from between his lips as he chewed on his egg sandwich, like he didn’t just propose you having sex with him and instead asked for a lift to home after work.

Taehyung begged you for a whole week, pleading and convincing it’ll be fun. When you eventually agreed (sex draught make people do stupid things), the other guy didn’t show up. You ended up drinking tequila shots with Taehyung that night in his apartment, and you can’t quite recall how it happened, but somehow you found yourself unzipping your friend’s pants and the rest is history. He passed out right after he came. Now when you think about it, you feel a sudden urge to ask him if he remembers that.

You will do it next time, you promise yourself.

Taehyung though doesn’t ask you about having a threesome or robbing Park Jimin’s house this time. His intentions are pretty much different.

“See, Namjoon split up with his girlfriend few weeks ago,” he says and you prick your ears. “He’s not in good condition right now, as you can see. It was a nasty break up, he found out she’s been cheating on him,” He lets out a long sigh. You bite your lip, imagining Namjoon’s disappointed face when he discovered the truth. What a bitch cheats on someone like him? “So, I thought maybe you could… cheer him up a little bit?” Taehyung ends hesitantly, with a glint of hope in his eyes.

You frown. Cheer him up? Did he just imply what you think about?

“Look, I get it, he’s sad and angry, but what the fuck, Taehyung? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to be his rebound? Make him forget?” you exclaim. Taehyung quickly shakes his head but you don’t let him say anything. “I feel sorry for Namjoon but I’m not going to take advantage of him when he’s literally still hurt.”

“No, it’s not like that!” Taehyung rushes to explain. “Well, maybe it sounded like that but I swear, I didn’t mean that!”

“Then what should I do? Wipe his tears? Tell him a joke? Or maybe-”

“Of course he wants you to suck his brother’s heartbroken dick, doll.”

A sudden, low voice interrupts your conversation. Your eyes follow the direction when it comes from, looking to Taehyung’s left where not even a meter away a very familiar grey-haired man with feline eyes sits.

“Min Yoongi,” you say matter-of-factly.

The leader of emendation team from Sunday’s Spirit editorial raises his hand in which he holds whiskey, greeting you and Taehyung. “Hello, doll. Hello, Taehyung,” he says, not even bothering to look at you.

You elbow Taehyung searching for explanation but he shrugs his shoulders, turning to face the man as well.

“First of all, since when do you call me ‘doll’? We have never spoken a word to each other. Secondly, how long have you been sitting here and listening?” you ask Yoongi.

He snorts, smirking. “Long enough to know how Taehyung comforts his brother after break up.” he simply answers and Taehyung’s cheeks blush in crimson at his words.

“You come here often? I’ve never seen you here before,” you continue, crossing your arms over chest.

Next to you Taehyung lets out a sigh. “Yes, he does. Albeit I haven’t seen him for a while here,” You look at him in confusion. “Yoongi-hyung is Namjoonie-hyung close friend from university days.” he clarifies.

You raise your eyebrows at that. “So Namjoon went to the same school as Park Jimin?”

“Not the same. We met under different circumstances.” Yoongi cuts in.

“They’ve been together in underground rap group, or some shit. Didn’t like each other at first but eventually stuck together till the end of studies.” Taehyung ends and grey-haired man nods.

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“What’s funny in that?” Yoongi scowls.

“Nothing. I just imagined you and Namjoon in snapbacks, rapping about the unfairness of social hierarchy,” you say, grinning at him.

“Well, you may believe me or not, but we even made a mixtape.” Yoongi reveals proudly, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Your eyes widen in curiosity. “Then what happened? Why aren’t you in Seoul now, still producing music? Why do you work in this stupid newspaper and Namjoon’s a bartender?” you ask interrogatively.

“Life happened, doll. We didn’t have enough money to publish our works so we decided to quit it.”

“Oh,” you breathe out.

You could see the nostalgia written across Yoongi’s face. You feel sorry for him, for Namjoon. Everything is always about the money. That’s why you’re working in Sunday’s Spirit even though it was never your dream in first place. Even though you have much higher ambitions than being Ask and you shall find column author.

Ever since you were little, you loved writing. You never complained, not even once, when your teachers in school assigned you to write something. They kept saying you have an extraordinary talent and it would be a shame if you didn’t do anything with that.

During your high school years, you were the leader of school newspaper’s team, still writing your own works every time you didn’t have something different to do. After that, you got to the university in Seoul, your another dream came true. You got a master degree, an apprenticeship in the Korean version of highly popular, world-widely known magazine. And then, nothing. No job applications available. No newspapers or publishing companies wanting you, dismissing you right away because they didn’t have any vacant places.

This is how Sunday’s Spirit, even if that’s not your dream job, happened. And quite literally saved your ass.

“I’m sorry.” you say after a while.

Yoongi smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t be. What’s in past, stays in past.” he ends the conversation, drinking the rest of his whiskey.

You find this as a perfect possibility to do what you’ve come here for: get wasted, forget about this prick Park Jimin and his stupid assignment. You turn around on your stool to face the bar again, calling for the red-haired bartender named Hoseok who’s substituting Namjoon right now. You order a round of tequilla shots and quickly pours two of them in one go.

“Easy, tiger,” Taehyung teases, still sipping his pink drink as you wipe your chin with the back of your hand. Taehyung has stated a long time ago that he enjoys only casual drinking, which makes you and you lightweightness snort at him.

“Loser,” you mumble under your breath, deep down knowing you’re oh so much going to regret this after.

You focus your attention on the dancefloor now; technicolor lights glittering as the crowd of sweaty people bounce to old Madonna hits. You feel like your spirit might actually experience new kind of awakening during the chorus in Like a Virgin. You mouth the lyrics, the vodka already half-way to your bopping head. Your drunken self almost asks Taehyung and Yoongi if they would agree to be your backup dancers.

You eyes scan the room carefully and then, you spot him. He’s sitting in the corner, his arms splayed over the backrest of the red couch. A devil himself. A black horseman of the Apocalypse. A man who looks like every girl’s next mistake. Taylor Swift’s ‘we are never ever getting back together’.

A true sin.

Jet-black hair parted in the middle, onyx eyes and lucious smirk written across his lips as he bites them purposefully. He’s wearing a leather jacket and you wonder for a while if you would find inked tattoos on his body. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes glued to the same spot as he waits for something, or rather someone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, not even hiding your curiosity at this point.

Taehyung turns around as well, his eyes glancing to the dark-haired man briefly. “Ah, this, sweetheart, is Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin’s best friend.” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You raise your eyebrows, watching as Jungkook’s face expression immediately changes when waitress approaches him. He says something to her that makes her roll her eyes. She tightens her grip around the tray she’s holding, asking him for his order.

“Don’t worry. You are not the only one thirsting over him. I would let him top me too,” Taehyung whispers to your ear and you flinch.

“I’m not thirsting over him! I came her for drinks, not to get laid, I told you.”

“Okay, okay, loosen up a little. Tequilla makes you aggressive. Besides, it looks like he’s got his pick for tonight.”

Jungkook stretches out his hand and fixes the waitress’ glasses that seem to rode down her nose a little. The girl frozes in place because of his action and he grins, calling her cute.

“He’s trying to ask her out for two months,” Yoongi interrupts suddenly, again. It looks like he has nothing better to do tonight. “I’m serious. He’s here every Friday. Normally, he would have given up after the second time she had rejected him but there’s might be something in this girl that makes his dick hard and his heart soft.”

Jungkook’s eyes girl’s body as she bends to pick up the glasses from other tables and maybe that’s the alcohol swimming in your veins but you could swear his face lights up when she sends him another irritated glare when he calls her name.

“Does Park Jimin comes here often as well?” you ask before you could stop yourself.

Both Taehyung and Yoongi shake their heads.

“I don’t think so. Jeon comes here because he lives nearby in this huge ass apartment complex. His father runs a chemical factory and he works there.” Taehyung explains.

Jeon? Chemical factory? Something clicks in your brain. Right, you know who his father is. The King of Washing Powder. Another rich as fuck Busan’s snob.

“God, I hate him. I fucking hate him. What a prick. Douchebag. Asshole of the century,” The string of profanities leaves poor waitress’ mouth as she walks to the counter with tray in her hands. “How’s your day, love? You look beautiful today, love. Fucking leave me alone, love!” she mutters to herself, taking the beer mugs from Hoseok abruptly which makes the bartender raise his eyebrows in confusion.

“How’s your assignment about Mary Magdalene going on, doll?” Yoongi asks then, startling you.

You roll your eyes at him. “I literally got it today, Yoongi. I haven’t started yet.” you answer, gulping another shot.

On the corner of your eye you see Yoongi’s smirking. “I’m surprised, to be honest. You aren’t the only one who doesn’t pay attention to shit Jimin’s says,” he trails off. “I work for him from the moment he started this ridiculous Bible lunch breaks and I swear, he’s never called out someone like that before.”

“What do you mean he’s never called out someone before?” Taehyung joins in curiously.

“Look, I slept through the majority of these sessions and Jimin knows it, but he has never lecture me about it,” Yoongi remarks. “Maybe you’re an exception. Or he’s become more strict because of this bitch Chin-sun.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. You know Chin-sun has been making heart eyes for Jimin for a long time but what why it might have an influence on his behavior?

“Lee Chin-sun? What the office’s Mary Magdalene has to do with that? Besides the fact that she’s drooling for his dick every time she sees him,” Taehyung snorts.

Yoongi chuckles lowly. “Oh, so you two really know nothing about what’s going on between them right now,”

“What’s going on right now? Spill.” Taehyung says abruptly. You sigh when you see the way his eyes flicker with mischeviousness. One thing Taehyung loves more than photography and fashion is gossiping (and dicks).

“First of all, Chin-sun is a fucking bigot. And well… she might be closer to being miss Park than we thought.” Yoongi muses.

Taehyung eyebrows practically disappear in his hairline. You’re sure you mirror his expression right now.

Yoongi asks Hoseok for another glass of whiskey and continues. “My friend Seokjin’s wife is Jimin’s personal assistant and secretary. She heard this and that, quite juicy things I must say,” he says in a lower tone, like he’s revealing government secrets to them. You lean closer into his direction along with Taehyung. “Chin-sun’s father recently bought the claims to the most popular, conservative TV station in whole South Korea. But, what is more interesting, it looks like Park senior has some shares in it as well.”

You’re astonished. You knew there’s something looming in the air but you didn’t expect this. A TV station? Even your slightly drunken brain can calculate it’s very interesting.

“So the marriage between Chin-sun and Jimin would be pretty convenient for their families, especially after considering the fact that Jimin is the heir.” Yoongi adds, gulping the first sip of his new whiskey.

“Poor Eunwoo,” you whisper to yourself.

“But why so soon? Why do they want to legalize their relationship so suddenly?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi lets out a heavy sigh. “There’s a rumour going around that Jimin’s father isn’t in good condition right now. Seokjin-hyung mentioned something about the heart disease. So, if that’s really true, you have the answer why he wants his eldest son to settle down already. Everything’s about the money, I told you.”

Taehyung whistles. “Woah, so Mary Magdalene is really about to be CEO Jesus’ wife soon!” he exclaims, clapping his hands. “Brilliant. Finally something spicy is happening in this boring editorial.”

“I wouldn’t be so enthusiastic if I were you, Taehyung. This kind of business never ends well,” Yoongi says coldly, placing his glass on the counter and standing up from the stool. He glances at his watch and throws a few bills next to his empty glass. “I’ll get going. It was nice talking to you, doll.”

“What about me?”

“Shut up, Taehyung, you’re not pretty lady.”

“I feel offended.”

“And I don’t care,” Yoongi mutters. Maybe that was alcohol swimming in her veins but you saw Taehyung lifting the corners of his lips in amusement. Weird. “Good luck on your assignment, doll. See you all on Monday.” Yoongi glances to your way one last time, adjusting his jacket.

“Bye, Yoongi.” you wave to him and a small, even sincere smile appears on his face when he as well raises his hand lazily and leaves. “Why didn’t you tell me he’s actually nice, Tae? I was always too scared to start a conversation with him because I felt intimidated.” you say after a while.

“I’m sorry, should have I set you up for a date with him?” Taehyung mocks.

A groan escapes your lips. “Could you please stop insinuating things?”

“You need to get laid, seriously. Like soon-soon. You get easily irritated recently. You need a d i c k,”

“I don’t need a dick!”

“A cock, Y/N,” Taehyung emphasizes. “A penis in your precious vagina.”

“Shut up!”

Several shots and a few drunken dances to Cindi Lauper and Bon Jovi, you’re pretty much wasted. And maybe, just maybe, you need a dick. And Taehyung, like a dipshit he always is, thinks that’s actually funny.

“Don’t wanna homff,” you slur, supporting your weight on Taehyung’s arm that shakes with laughter at your drunken antics, as well as his whole body. “I wanna danfce witfh somebodyyy,”

“Holy Mother of Jesus, you must be really drunk if you started referring to Whitney Houston’s songs. And you smell like booze,” Taehyung mutters under his breath and you whine, tugging on his arm.

“TaeTae, Taehyungie, pffleasee, can we go back?”

Taehyung ignores your grumbling completely. He exists the bar, walking (or rather dragging) you to the cab. As he tries to push your body to the car, he sees in the corner of his eye Jeon Jungkook, standing in front of his black SUV. The waitress from earlier accompanies him as well. It looks like he’s trying to convince her to let him give her a lift to home. The girl shakes her head at first but eventually gives up, stepping into the car. Jungkook grins to himself then, clenching his fists in gesture of pure triumph.

“I fuckin’ hate Park Jimin and his stfupid newspaper,” you mutter incoherently as you bury your head in the crook of Taehyung’s neck in the back of the cab. Old, korean songs are playing in the radio when you’re driving back home. Taehyung smiles to himself, hearing your light snores. But then, he falters.

Ah, yes, he almost forgot. It is going to be a long way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Next day, you wake up in the middle of noon with raging headache and an abrupt need to throw everything up. Frankly speaking, you had worse hangovers during you university days but it doesn’t change the fact that the state you’re currently in still sucks.

“Oh, good God, what have I thought?” you mutter to yourself while standing in the shower, letting the water cool you down.

Truth to be told, a drinking escapade when you have a whole ass paper to write in two days wasn’t the smartest idea you could come up with. You know that for sure, when you’re sitting down in front of your laptop with prescription glasses on your face and a cup of tea in your hand.

There’s a blank document opened on the screen, with only your name written in the corner and the title in the middle. You feel pathetic and useless, staring at it for 30 minutes straight. If you keep sitting like this, you might actually call Park Jimin right now and beg him not to fire you due to your incompetence.

“Get your shit together, Y/N.” you say to yourself, clenching your fists.

At first you fought about making some mind-map, outlining the most important parts of your essay, as you always used to do when you were studying. But there’s a huge difference between what you’re working on right now and what you usually did during academic days. Above all, at that time you were writing about things you had more knowledge about, not about Mary Magdalene and her role in Jesus Christ’s life.

“Ah, fuck it.”

You open an online Bible page and quickly type ‘Mary Magdalene’ in browser. All fragments when she’s mentioned shows up in front of your eyes. You fix your glasses and before you could stop yourself, you whisper, “Let’s get it.”

You don’t know how much time has passed since you started reading, but when you glance a the clock it’s nearly 7pm.

You went through every single page in the Bible when Mary Magdalene appears or when for some reason her name comes up in conversations. You read two thesis in which you found quite interesting facts about the heroine of your work. Also, you watched some conspiracy theories on YouTube about her, in which people claim that she was actually Jesus’ wife. You were bewildered, even in your post-hangover state.

And after all of this researching, you have settled a plan. You’re a journalist for God’s sake, you’ve been writing your entire life and none assignment will break you. So you start typing on the keyboard, filling the blank document pages with words, hoping that Park Jimin will approve your efforts.

On Sunday, you look like a ghost.

You’re a mess, cured from hangover but still in bad shape, especially after spending the whole night writing in front of your laptop. There are bangs under your eyes and you hair looks like you could cosplay a scarecrow. Your eyes are sore from staring to the screen for so long and you feel like you might collapse anytime if you won’t drink coffee in five minutes.

In between writing next paragraphs, you answer a call from Taehyung.

“How’s your assignment going, sweetheart?”

You let out a long, exhausted sigh. “It’s fine, I guess.” you respond to him.

“That’s lovely! I knew you would slay this, babe,” you hear him saying.

“I’m not done yet, Tae. I still have like a half to write,” you mumble and then let out a yawn, closing your eyes for a brief second before you speak again. “I would love to talk to you more but I really need to get this shit done as soon as I can, so I could have some decent sleep before Monday. I don’t want to look like an old witch when I hand in the paper to Park Jimin.”

“I know, I know. You got this, sweetheart. I’m sure you will make Mister Prude’s dick hard because of this.” Taehyung assures you.

You crack a tired smile even though you know he doesn’t see you. “Thank you, Tae.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” he says and hangs up.

You take another gulp of your coffee and start writing again.

It’s a little past midnight when you’re, with your last amounts of force you posses, typing the last words of the paper. As you look at your laptop screen, eyelids half-closed, you dream about nothing but going to sleep.

You did that. You really did. You wrote this stupid paper for Park Jimin and you’re actually proud of it. You carefully save the document three times (to be hundred percent sure) and as soon as you close your laptop, you pass out.

Little did you know what is waiting for you in editorial in a few hours.

You stare at your reflection in small mirror you hold, thanking God that he has enlightened the person who discovered make-up. You won’t say you look stunning but, after five hours of sleep you had in last two days, you would risk it all and say you appear much more than decent looking. You’re wearing your new black jumpsuit that makes your legs look longer and you even used a different shade of lipstick, painting your lips in crimson red.

And all of this for nothing, because when you stormed into the Sunday’s Spirit editorial to give the paper straight to Park Jimin’s hands, his secretary with polite smile said he’s coming to work later today.

You pursued your lips and handed the woman your blood, sweat and tears (you’re actually sure a few tears rolled down from your face on the keyboard while you were writing it), wishing you saw your boss’ face when you place the printed pages on his expensive desk.

“I changed a little bit the topic of my work while I was outlining it,” you tell Taehyung as you both sit together by your desks later that day. “I focused more on a role of Mary Magdalene character in world ruled only by men. I showed how a powerful woman she was, standing at Jesus’s side even though the church for the centuries referred her to whore,” you explain.

“Wow,” Taehyung muses. “You turned Mary Magdalene into feminism icon fighting against patriarchy.”

“It’s not like that!” You hit him in the arm. “You may laugh as much as you want but I actually got into her story.”

Taehyung smirks. “Looks like being scolded by Park Jimin wasn’t that bad.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up. I got humiliated in the middle of fucking cafeteria. I still hate him. And also, I don’t know what he thinks about my essay.” you say with a sigh.

“Don’t worry. He’s probably having an epiphany right now while-”

A voice from the speakers that certainly doesn’t sound like gospel choir interrupts him.

“Miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.”

“-or he isn’t.” Taehyung ends.

Once again, you’re frozen in place. It’s okay, you tell yourself, maybe he just wants to talk about my essay. But what if he didn’t like it? What if your sudden feminism outburst about Mary Magdalene was too much?

“Holy fuck.” you blurt out quietly.

Taehyung gives you an encouraging smile but he doesn’t look much convinced in positive intentions of summoning you to their boss’ office, he just doesn’t say it aloud. “Well, maybe it won’t be that bad! Maybe he wants to congratulate you,” he tries to comfort you, without success. You look horribly pale and scared to death.

“I repeat: miss Y/N, please report to the Park Jimin’s office immadietly.” Jimin’s stone cold voice pierce through the silence again. You shiver. The journalists in the editorial send you impatient glares.

“Whatever happens, remember that I love you.” Taehyung whispers, squizzing your hand, which makes you even more nervous. He gives you thumbs-up and you take a deep breath, trying to calm your trembling body. A whole Sunday’s Spirit team follow your movements with their eyes.

You stands from your desk on wobbly legs and walk to the door with golden sign hanging on its surface.

Park Jimin

Editor-in-chief

You take the knob in your shaking palm and twist, stepping into the lion’s den.

The atmosphere seems to shift when you walk into the room. You could hear your heart rapidly beating through the dead silence that lingers in Park Jimin’s office. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you ask after closing the door, subconsciously cursing yourself for sounding so weak already.

“Yes, have a seat,” Jimin says. “Give me a second. I need to finish something.” he adds when you sit down, not even bothering to spare you a look.

Jimin sits behind his desk, eyes glued to the computer screen. His hair is pushed back from his forehead, his jaw clenched. Oh, great, he looks pissed, you think to yourself.

He isn’t wearing his suit jacket like usually, which surprises you. His white shirt’s sleeves are rolled up, revealing a glimpse of veiny hands and his Rolex. This is the first time you see him like this. He looks so… unlike him.

Strange.

You use the time you have to take in your surroundings. Jimin’s office is painted in fair tone of grey. The rumors were actually right, there’s a smaller version of Michelangelo’s Pietà standing proudly on of the drawers. Behind the desk, on the wall, hangs a wooden cross with gold-plated figurine of Jesus Christ, and just underneath it there’s a framed picture of Lady of Fatima, which he once proudly showed to the whole editorial team on one of the lunchbreaks, saying his grandmother brought him this from her pilgrimage.

You focus your attention now on the wall filled with numerous diplomas and certificates, all of them signed with Park Jimin’s name.

You had read some of his works before you started your job in Sunday’s Spirit and you must admit: Park Jimin is a talented, smart journalist you aspire to be one day. It’s actually sad, you think, that he can’t pursue his career, wasting his abilities by working in catholic newspaper owned by his father. And as you know from Yoongi, his situation isn’t going to change soon. Maybe he was right after all. Money really does rule this world.

After a few minutes that seems to last forever, Jimin breaks the silence. “Do you know why are you here?” he asks, finally averting his attention to you. He stares so deeply into your eyes that you feel you might faint from the intensity of his aura.

You clear your throat, and then respond. “I do believe it’s about my paper I handed in to you this morning.”

Jimin raises his eyebrow at that. “Your paper? No, everything’s fine about it. I read it and I must say, you did a great job,” he says and you furrow your eyebrows. So if nothing’s is wrong with your essay then what does he want?

“Then… why did you call me in, sir?” you hesitantly ponder.

Jimin laces his fingers together and leans closer over the desk. “Well,” he begins, “Maybe you forgot or you really didn’t know about it, but I used to run the same column as you do now,” You nod your head, recalling what Taehyung told you recently. Jimin continues, “I was actually the one who created it. That means I am still, for this day, its administrator. Which leads to another conclusion: every single ask that is send to our editorial and your responses to them can be monitored by me.” he explains, gauging your reaction. You still don’t have an idea why is he telling you that, so you just sit still and wait.

Then, Jimin reaches for the paper that lays on the left side of his desk and hands it to you. “Could you please tell me what is this?” he asks, pointing at the paper.

You glance at it briefly. “These are the questions I got last week and my responses to them.” you reply straightaway.

Park Jimin doesn’t seem much satisfied after hearing your words. He then takes another paper and gives it to you as well. “And this particular one, Y/N? Could you please read it and tell me what is this?”

Ignoring his forego of ‘miss’, you take it to your hands and start reading.

Dear Sunday’s Spirit editorial,

My name is Kang Seoyeon. I study medicine at the University of Seoul, I’ve got an amazing group of friends and a loving boyf-

You gasp and immadietly put a palm over your mouth. Under Seoyeon’s ask there’s also, clear as day, your much inappropriate response to her. In which you persuade the girl to suck her boyfriend off.

Holy fuck. Jesus Christ. Shitshitshit!

Jimin said he monitors everything that people send to the editorial along with the responds. Of course he had to read it. Why have you been so dumb? How could you believe that simple deleting from your inbox would be enough? Why can’t you do something properly for once?

You gulp, trying not to cry because good God, he’s going to fire you. He will kick you out and write a bunch of negative letters to your future employees, in which he will explain in details how disobiedent, reckless of a worker you are.

“Did you also forget how to speak?” Jimin asks. You almost cry out right away from the coldness of his voice.

You muster up a courage and look at him, and that’s a huge mistake because as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re lost for words.”I-I don’t know what to say, sir,” you stammer out. “I have nothing for my defence. I can only apologize for my irresponsible and inappropriate behavior I exhibited.” you say, bowing your head down.

Jimin pursues his lips. He stands from his chair and walks to you, leaning his body on the desk. He takes the paper from you to his hands and starts reading. “If you want to fuck your boyfriend, do it. Maybe God wouldn’t approve that but don’t worry, he won’t send you to hell because of some dick in your pussy,“ he quotes your response to the girl and your cheeks flush in red; you wish nothing more than to disappear and never see your boss again. But he’s relentless and continues reading, spilling the crude words, humiliating you even more. “So you go girl, suck your boyfriend off. Make him beg. He will never leave you after this.“ Jimin chuckles to himself darkly and you shut your eyes. “Look at me when you are spoken to,” he demands. You quickly oblige, lifting your chin a little to meet his intense gaze. “Is that really how a good, catholic girl should act?” he asks in a mocking tone.

You shake your head. “No, it isn’t.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Do you think he really won’t leave her after this?” he asks out of the blue.

You furrow your eyebrows. What kind of twisted game is he playing now? “I don’t know, sir.” you answer honestly.

Jimin smirks. Devilishly, sultry and completely illegal. He then licks his lips and leans closer to you. You could swear his eyes are darken than before. Something has shifted in his demeanor; he looks daring. “Why don’t you show me then, how this poor girl should suck her boyfriend off, Y/N?” he whispers lowly.

Your eyes widen. Did he just-?

He didn’t. He can’t. Maybe you misheard him, maybe you started imagining things that aren’t real. Oh, sweet Lord, the look of absolute seriousness written on his face tells you very much different.

Park Jimin, your boss, the man who goes regularly on masses and reads Bible, wants you to give him a head. In his office.

May the God help you.

You should probably slap him in the face for his immoral proposition. You should save your dignity, leave and never come back again. But then, you clear your mind from all those twisted thoughts running through it and you realise that you’re walking on a very thin line. Line which is called unemployment and bankruptcy.

You think about your landlord who praised you recently for keeping up with rent every month regularly. You think about your student loans that you still need to pay.

And fuck, you hate Yoongi because he was damn right. Money wouldn’t buy you happiness, but it can provide you that.

That’s why you put away the humiliation, the what ifs. You shut your mind screaming at you and listing the future consequences. Maybe Jimin just tests you, but the way he looks at you denies it. He wants to see you on your knees in front of him. Perhaps he only wants to play before he fires you but you put that thought aside.

You at least need to try.

Jimin searches for any kind of protest in your eyes and when he doesn’t find it, he’s back to his domineering self. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, his voice an octave lower. “Get on your knees.”

He has a calm expression on his face and you wonder for a moment how many times has he been in similar situation before. Having a woman on his mercy and using her the way he likes. And now you know. All those stories you heard about, are actually true. Park Jimin isn’t a prude. He’s dirty.

You fall to the floor with a light whimper. Maybe it’s the last chance for you to leave, but the confidence that emanates from Jimin doesn’t falter your movements. You hate yourself for that but God, you want to see this man being a mess for your touch. Even if that’s fucked up.

And it’s wrong, so, so wrong, when there’s a cross hanging behind you, when he’s your boss who claims to be a good catholic, when you do that because you’re too afraid to lose your job. But in that moment, the morality doesn’t exist.

Jimin stands up to take his belt off, looking at you from the above as he slowly, purposefully pulls it from the belt loops. He doesn’t encourage you or say anything, he just waits. You gulp when he yanks his black slacks down, along with his underwear.

For a few, solid seconds, you just stare.

You aren’t a connoisseur of dicks. Dick is a dick, but Park Jimin’s length is just as perfect as the rest of him, semi-hard against his lower stomach. Your hands move to his sculpted thighs, running up and down, tracing the prominent lines of his toned abdomen. The muscles tense underneath your touch.

You don’t remember when was the last time you’ve gone down on someone. Maybe it was Taehyung few months ago when you were both too drunk to care? You can’t quite recall. Every move of yours is uncertain, but Jimin doesn’t mind. Maybe your uncertainty turns him on even more.

He watches as you take him in your palm hesitantly, hot and already stiff, stroking him several times until he hardens in your hand. The sight is purely erotic, filthy, and you lick your lips before placing a light kiss on his tip. Jimin hisses. That’s a warning. No teasing.

You pump him, trailing a thumb over his slit, spreading precum all over his cock. Jimin doesn’t say anything but from the shuddering breath he lets out you assume he likes it. You take a deep breath, wrapping your lips around his dick and swirling your tongue around the head.

Jimin groans, a guttural sound resonating through his whole body and you take it as a sign to continue. You ease more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down around his length obediently. Some twisted and fucked-up part of you wants him to praise you, call you good girl with your lips around his dick and throbbing core. He does none of that. His hands tangle in your hair as he withdraws, and you know exactly what’s coming next.

It’s an unspoken question on his lips and your jaw falls slacks on command.

A forceful push of his hips and he’s burried deep inside your mouth till he hits the back of your throat. Tears brim in your eyes and you gag, breathing heavily through your nose. It hurts a little, a dull ache but the content sigh and fucked-out expression on Jimin’s face is worth it. So you let him fuck your mouth the way he wants, let him pull your hair harder, wreck you a little more. It’s so easy to submit to him, to let him overwhelm you in every sense possible.

Your eyes fall shut and Jimin stops his movements, pulling from your mouth. Drool dribbles down your chin and you wipe it with the back of your hand. Jimin lets out a shaky breath, staring down at you so intensely it makes your insides tighten, even if you don’t see him yet.

“Look at me,” he rasps and you do, how could you not. The sight of your boss’ flushed cheeks and sweat forming on his forehead will be imprinted in your mind forever.

You curse yourself for wanting him to fuck you senseless right against his deck, with a hand around your throat muffling your screams, fuck you so hard you won’t remember your name anymore, no matter how wrong it is.

“Good girl. You’re so pretty like this, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jimin nothing but purrs, filling you to the brim again, until there are tears forming in your eyes and running down your cheeks, until he hits the base of your throat again and again and you fight back choked gags every time. “Just like that, fuck-” he moans, lowly and beautifully, head thrown back and mouth parted.

He’s close, you could feel that, so you take him deep once again and when your throat tightens around him one last time, he lets out a gutural groan and comes. You swallow every drop of his bitter release and when he pulls out from your mouth, you nearly fall forward.

Jimin catches you, placing his hands on your shoulders, balancing your exhausted body. You look at him through your half-lidded eyes. He looks so young now, so innocent, his cold demeanor’s gone and replaced by pure bliss written on his face. For Park Jimin, cheeks rosy, disheveled hair and loosen tie, you would do it all over again.

He then does something unexpected. He reaches for your face, brushing your tangled hair away and placing the strands behind your ears. This is a loving gesture, something exclusive he definitely shouldn’t be doing. You’re frozen, you can’t move a muscle while he wipes your cheeks from the reminiscences of your tears. He trails his thumb over your swollen lips absentmindedly, faltering there. For a moment he looks like he might say something, but he quickly shuts his mouth, regaining his previous posture.

You take this as a sign to leave. You get up from the floor, your knees sore from the uncomfortable position you’ve been in. You walk to the mirror that hangs on the wall of Jimin’s office. You sigh, seeing your current state. There’s no way someone would believe you that you haven’t just sucked a dick.

Your cheeks are flushed in pink, there are smudges of mascara under your eyes and your lipstick is smeared in the corners of your mouth. Not to mention your hair is still a mess.

You are painted in all shades of wrong.

In the reflection of the mirror you see Jimin buckling up his belt and straightening his tie. He runs a hand through his blond locks and looks up, catching you staring at him. You quickly look away.

“Don’t worry. No one will notice anything. Everyone should be off for their lunchbreaks by now.” he says. He sounds so pathetically normal, yet there’s still a slight rasp in his voice.

You glance at the watch on your hand and check the time. It’s a little past 12. You brush your hair with your fingers quickly and proceed to leave, but you stop, remembering you have to ask about one last thing. You turn around to face him.

“Are you going to write a bad opinion about me to my future employees?” you ask, flinching at the hoarseness of your voice.

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Bad opinion? No, absolutely not,” he answers, shaking his head. “I was never going to fire you in first place.”

You fight back the shocked expression that threatens to appear on your face. You quickly rush to leave this damn office and never look in his eyes ever again. What were you even thinking?

“And Y/N,” Jimin’s voice makes you stop with your hand hovering over the door knob. Single tear rolls down your cheek and you gulp. “I’m sorry.” it’s all he says.

You don’t ask him what he meant by that. You don’t deliberate if he was sincere or not. You leave the office as soon as you can, running to the nearest bathroom, closing the door behind you and leaning on it.

He wasn’t going to fire you. He just wanted to use you, demand to get down on your knees and please him the way he wants. It was all a game for him, and you became his plaything.

“I’m so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, burying your head in your hands. “God, I’m so stupid.”

You feel sick, used, but at the same time you can’t get away with creeping feeling that you enjoyed it, wishing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him in that moment.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re probably foolish for thinking it won’t have any consequences. You’re just about to face them.

The coldness of early Spring hits you when you exit Sunday’s Spirit editorial. You hug your body tighter with your coat, standing in front of the building awkwardly. You take a few deep breaths, trying to clear your mind, but nothing really works. There’s a vacant space inside your body, like your soul has drifted away and left nothing but emptiness.

You feel hollow.

You don’t know how long have you been standing there, inhaling fresh air and waiting for your blood to start circulating properly in your veins again. When you’re about to head to the underground station, on the corner of your eye you see Jimin’s black Mercedes. You probably shouldn’t stare but you helplessly do.

Probably if you didn’t, it would hurt less.

He approaches the car, looking perfectly fine as always, which you couldn’t say about yourself. And he isn’t alone.

You recognize dark curls of Chins-sun’s hair, contrasting her beige coat beautifully. The corners of Jimin’s lips lift when he sees her. You don’t know if it’s a honest smile or a forced one. You wonder for a while how does he look like when he’s truly happy. Maybe he’s happy now, when Chin-sun is by his side.

What you are really sure about Park Jimin, is that he’s a man of many maybes.

Something which definitely doesn’t look forced are his palms, cupping the cheeks of Chin-sun’s flushed face. He starts tracing circles on her skin in intimate gesture and murmurs something. Maybe he asks her how was her day. Your lips still tingle where he trailed his thumb over it bitten, swollen surface. Maybe he still remembers how they felt around his cock when he was relentlessly bringing tears to your eyes and stabs to your heart.

The way he leans and kisses Chin-sun’s cherry colored lips is purposeful, perfectly measured. Maybe he sighs into her mouth with content, a beautiful sound you have witnessed with your own ears, as you were working him to his climax. Jimin’s hands grip Chin-sun’s dark locks but it isn’t the similar manner he did to you earlier, as he laced his fingers through the strands, when you wished him to do nothing more than pull harder and harder, until the pain in you scalp was replaced by dull ache, until a whimper fell from your lips and eyes squeezed shut. He kisses Chin-sun lovingly and there’s no roughness in that. It’s gentle caresses and soft murmurs.

After a moment he breaks off, soothing his palms over Chin-sun’s shoulders. She sends him a smile and opens the passenger’s door, getting into the car. And then, when you swallow a lump in your throat, when you decide to turn around and go, run as fast as you possibly can, when you dream about nothing more but never seeing him again, you catch eyes with him.

Jimin looks pathetically apologetic. There’s something in his dark brown orbs you can’t read. Maybe it’s guilt, maybe regret. Park Jimin is a man of many maybes, yet he stares at you with expression you could only mistaken for sadness.

You wonder if he sees the way your eyes stare at him blankly. You wonder if he knows how he nearly wrecked your body and made you feel things you shouldn’t. If he hurts the same way as you do now. However, Jimin quickly diverts his head away from you, closing the door to his car behind him as well. You laugh quietly at the ridiculousness of this situation. A bitter laugh that escapes your mouth and deepen the hollowness inside you.

A hand touches your arm and you don’t even flinch, knowing already who it is.

“So you know the news,” Taehyung says, looking at Jimin’s car leaving the parking lot. How long has he been standing behind you?

“What news?” you ask, turning your head to look at him.

“Chin-sun is really going to be miss Park officially,” he replies. “Jimin proposed to her this weekend. The wedding is in may. But that’s not important right now. How’s your conversation with him, sweetheart?”

You feel sick. You excuse yourself, mentioning something about needing to catch earlier train and texting him later. Taehyung calls after you but you don’t listen. You start running.

You run until you couldn’t breathe, until there’s a soreness in your throat from the coldness of air. You run until you reach your apartment, stumbling into it on wobbly legs. Your back touches the wall and you slide off, sitting on the floor.

You don’t cry. The tears don’t strain your eyes. It’s only this damned, dull hollowness.

There’s written in the Bible that a guilty person is the one who broke God’s law, who committed a sin. The said person will be judged by their actions after their death. Because every human being has a conscience, the thing that sets the line between good and bad, so when we did something wrong, we should feel remorse.

When you sit on the floor and stare blankly in front of yourself, you know you have sinned.You both did. You wonder if he, trailing patterns of tender touches on his fiancee’s skin, feels the same as you. You wonder if guilt eats him up as much as devours you. Maybe there’s hollow ache in his chest, just like in yours. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything.

And may the God help you both find your redemption.

997 notes · View notes

prince-ampora · 4 years

Note

Maybe Zombiestuck!CronKri, if you would write that?

I know that there is already a zombiestuck au but I don't know how to find it or if cronkri is in it, so this is my own kinda thing!

***

INFO

-im so sorry this took so long! school, yknow?

-human zombie apocalypse au

-mentions all the other alpha trolls

-the alpha and beta kids are here, and the beta trolls

-jane is fat and strong and i will die on this hill

WARNINGS

-zombies

-a whole lotta character death

-cheating (mentioned)

The zombie apocalypse was something no one was prepared for. No matter how many movies people watched or how much of a survivalist they were, no one was prepared. So it's a wonder how Cronus and Kankri survived this long. Maybe they just happened to be lucky? No, that can't be a possibility. If the two were lucky, they would have been happy before all this. They could have saved the friends they lost when it started. They could have convinced Mituna not to sacrifice himself, and Latula not to go back for him, and stopped Porrim from look for that crying kid, and convince Damara to not storm off after finding Horuss and Rufioh sharing a bedroll in the morning, and force those two not to stay behind out of guilt to wait for her, and maybe they could have stopped Kurloz getting bit and turning Meulin, or stopped Meenah from running into a horde in some cool hero act, and stopped Aranea from trying to drag her out. So no, the two left from the group of twelve were not lucky. But at least they had each other, right? The two most annoying and selfish of the bunch, stuck together and barely surving. This was unlucky. But they still want to live, after everything, they want to keep going. So they keep moving.

"Kan, there's a radio station ahead. Should we go there for the night?" Cronus elbows the other, who's scanning the roads intently, "Oh, uh, sure. Maybe survivors will be using it to communicate and we can find a settlement." Cronus nods and takes Kankri's bag, "You cover us. Let's go." They run silently down the street, narrowly avoiding the detection of a zombie in an alley. The doors to the radio station are locked, but Cronus thankfully manages to pick it. Once inside, Kankri scouts the area. "It's all clear." "Good," Cronus nods, "Let's go check the frequencies." They find a console and flip through dead channels, before finding one working one, repeating a message.

"HELLO. THIS IS DIRK STRIDER OF THE ALPHA OUTPOST. HUMAN SETTLEMENT HAS FORMED IN THE SBURB APARTMENT COMPLEX. WE HAVE FOOD AND WATER."

Cronus smiles and Kankri starts crying. Finally, a safe place. Somewhere they can go. Kankri hugs Cronus and they sink to the floor. "We can go tomorrow. For now, we should sleep." Kankri nods and Cronus, words, and they lay down an open sleeping bag, then drag the other on top, holding each other. They don't know when this started, the cuddling, but it's the warmest and most mentally stabilizing option. At keast, that's what they kept telling themselves. But night after night of falling alseep in someones arms and being comforted by them when you wake up in tears... feelings happen. They never had time to address it but... maybe they finally can.

In the morning, they set out again. A horde had passed, but luckily it was in the opposite way they had to go. Kankri lead the way, having lived with his brother and father in Sburb Apartments before moving to college. Maybe they were still alive.

They managed to get there just as night fell. The doors were guarded by two very muscley women, one with long needles and the other with a chainsaw. "We heard the radio message. Neither of us have been bitten, can we go in? The one holding needles looks them up and down. "I'll take them in Kanaya." She leads them into the apartments and to a very clean room. "Jane, we've got survivors." Another woman, equally muscley but also chubby, comes out from behind a cabinet. "Oh goodness me, look at you two!" Needle lady leaves and the two are left clutching each others hands. "I need you two to strip so I can check for injuries. Will that be an issue at all?" Kankri elbows Cronus before he can say anything, "Not at all. Underwear too?" Jane shakes her head, "Only if you're comfortable." She leaves and the two strip down. She comes back with fresh clothes and looks them over. "Well, you two seem to be fine. Find Dave, he'll show you to an apartment. Or two, of you would rather stay apart." "No, together is fine," Cronus says, surprising Kankri. They dress in their dirty clothes again and leave the infirmary(?). A high schooler with a bunch of scars and a lair of shades two doors down stops them, "So, you two are new survivors?" Kankri nods at presumably Dave's question. "Woah, you look just like... Is your last name Vantas?" Kankri's eyes widen, "Yes! Is my brother here? My father?" Dave takes off his shades. "Karkat is here, but... your dad... he went out to find others and hasn't been back." Kankri's eyes fill with tears and Cronus pulls him into a tight hug. Dave hands him a room key, "I'll swing by with Karkat later." Cronus nods and Dave leaves.

Cronus gets Kankri into the room, "We should shower... You can go first." Kankri clutches onto him, "No, don't leave." Cronus lets out a sigh of relief. He didn't want to be left alone either. "Let's shower together then." They strip once more, leaving the clean clothes on the sink. Cronus washes Kankri's hair as Kankri fiddles with Cronus' purple streak. It's so faded now. "Y'know... You didn't have to elbow me, in the infirmary." Kankri stops. "What do you mean? A girl was asking you to strip for her, I was not going to let you embarrass her." Cronus lets out a dry laugh. "I don't think I have it in me to do that stuff any more. And... even if I did... Kankri I think I love you." A long pause, and then Kankri smiles. "You know what Cronus? I think I might love you too."

#homestuck #zombiestuck #cronkri #homestuck oneshot #kankri vantas #cronus ampora #eridan's oneshots #eridan's oneshots requests

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beelziebabie · 4 years

Note

im the one who sent you that mammon request,,, beel rly is baby, but comparing him to The Great Mammon? foolishness. your writing is so gooood thank you sm for taking my request 🥺 if you're still looking for some, maybe a lucifer/mammon where they are both into mc and try to compete for her attention without her noticing their thirst? (also, do u take belphie requests? i love one salty boy)

i take ALL boys sweetie

all are welcome

im lowkey kinda warming up to satan,,, so i take back what i say about not caring about him

and sure!! im gonna write out this one cuz im thirsty for both of them no cap🗿

Title: Brotherly Competition

Scenario: Mammon and Lucifer bet that by the end of the day, one of them could get MC in their room alone.

time started: 2:25 PM

time finished: 7:35

(i procrastinated a lot and got really busy lol)

NSFW?: nope

Reader Insert?: yup

The occasional sound of sipping and very frequent sounds of munching filled the large dining room. All 6 Avatars were sitting at the dining table, minus you. You headed to your room and skipped dinner mainly because there was a test you had to study for in one of your classes at RAD. Beelzebub didn’t want you to go hungry, so he offered you some of his food but you declined. He shrugged it off and continued eating happily. That just meant more for him.

It was silent. Weirdly silent. Asmodeus’ fingers drummed against the clothed table, his coral colored eyes scanning the room. Everyone was eating peacefully, silently.

“It’s too quiet..” He whined to himself, poking at his food with his fork. His eyebrows were scrunched together with his bottom lip slightly poked out in a pout. “I wish Y/n was here..”

“Oh yeah!” Mammon suddenly shouted, causing everyone at the table (minus Lucifer and Beelzebub, who both totally tuned Mammon out) to flinch at his sudden movement. His hands crashed against his table and a large grin spread across his face. Asmodeus perked up a little bit at the commotion.

“Mammon, what is it now?” Satan sighed, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a long sip from it.

Mammon stood up proudly and pressed his thumb into his chest, his chin up and his smirk never falling.

“I made a bet with Lucifer!”

Satan started choking on his drink. Beelzebub paused for only a moment to look up at Mammon with his eyebrows raised, shook his head, then continued eating without a word. Leviathan rolled his eyes and pushed his plate over to Beelzebub who gratefully took it and added it onto the mountain on his plate.

“Liar,” Levi said, taking his cellphone out of his pocket to open an bishojo game he found earlier.

Mammon shot a glare at him. “But I’m not! Look, you can ask him yourself!”

“Right, like Lucifer would make a bet with you of all demons,” Satan shook his head and cleared his throat, putting down his fork and wiping his mouth with a napkin.

A bet with Lucifer was something that pretty much never happened. Lucifer would rather not waste his time on such a trivial thing, and definitely not his money either. How did Mammon manage to do that though?

Lucifer sighed, and everyone’s attention went over to him. Expecting eyes lingered on him, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. A visible vein popped up on his temple.

“Yes, I made a bet with him,” Lucifer started and he could hear their jaws drop. He brought his hand down from his face and glared at Mammon. He sat down in his seat after a cold sweat washed over him.

“However,” He continued, “No one will know what it’s about.”

“Aww, c’mon Lucifer!” Asmodeus propped his arm up on the table and leaned his cheek into his hand. “Why cant you tell us? We’re your brothers after all,” He smiled at him.

Lucifer picked up his fork and carried some food into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before speaking up again. “And I cant trust any of you. Maybe Beelzebub.”

“Ouch,” Asmodeus frowned playfully and stood up in his seat. “Well I’m heading to bed, goodnight!”

Most of the brothers just waved goodbye, but Lucifer and Leviathan who both said “Night” or “Goodnight”.

When you woke up the next morning, you werent surprised to see Mammon there already. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and it looked like he was dozing off.

You laughed lightly and sat up. He flinched when he heard your giggle, but relaxed when he realized it was just you. “How long have you been sitting there, Mammie?” You yawned and stood up, stretching your arms high above your head.

Mammon’s face tinted a light shade of red as he watched your nightgown ride up your thigh just a bit. He snapped out of it when he heard your question. “Good, you’re awake! Finally! Do you have any idea how long you kept me waiting!?” He huffed and watched as you went over to your closet and tossed the multiple garments that made up your school uniform onto the bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” You picked out a white bra and a matching white panties and tossed them onto the bed as well. Mammon couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the undergarments. “So, you’ve been watching me sleep for a while now then?”

“Eh? No!— I just—“ His face lit up with a red hue and it didnt help when you looked back at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Whatever! Just— hurry up so we can get to breakfast,” He turned away sharply from your gaze, standing up from the bed and heading for the door. Mammon heard you hum in reply. “Okay, I’ll be down there in a few.”

Before leaving your room completely, he paused and bit his lip. “I uh.. I also packed up your stuff for you. You looked exhausted, so..”

You turned your face to him and put on a warm, closed eye smile. Just when he thought his face was calm it warmed right up again. “Thanks Mammie. I appreciate it, a lot.”

He huffed and opened the door. “Pshh, yeah! You better!”

At the breakfast table, it was weirdly silent. It seemed as thought Lucifer and Mammon were silently communicating with each other, but to you, it just looked like they were glaring at each other.

You bounced a bit in your seat, the tips your feet just grazing the carpeted floor. You ate with a small smile and short hums between chews. You swallowed your food and stood up.

“I’m finished!” You said, even though there was a bit of food left. Before you could even ask if Beelzebub wanted it he took your plate from your hands and dumped it onto his. He muttered something along the lines of “No food should go to waste”.

“I’m gonna head to class early. I still have some books in my room to get. Mammie, are you coming?” You bent over slightly and picked up your bookbag, slinging it over your shoulder. You flattened out and wrinkles in your skirt and waited for his answer.

“Huh?” He said, half of his spoon already in his mouth. “Oh, y-“

Lucifer stood up abruptly and picked up his plate. “Mammon is still eating his breakfast, Y/n. I’m sure he would like to finish it,” He walked over to the kitchen and a couple clinks were heard, then water running. Lucifer came back out.

“I’ll help you with your books. Is that alright with you?” He asked, his eyes shifting over to Mammon for a moment. Mammon was holding his fork so tightly that his knuckles were turning ghostly white. The smallest grin showed up on Lucifer’s features and he directed his gaze back to you.

“Oh, sure,” You hummed, starting to walk to your bedroom. But before you could even walk two feet away from your chair, Mammon stood up.

“Actually, I’m quite full thank you very much!” He hissed at Lucifer and he rolled his eyes.

“I can carry your bag for you, Y/n!” He rushed behind you and before you could object he slipped the strap off of your shoulder and swung it over his own. You blinked in surprise.

“Ah, thanks Mammie..” You shrugged it off and started walking to your room. That wasnt the first time Mammon would randomly do something for you, so you didnt pay any attention to it. You were also oblivious to the two demons sending death stares at each other behind you.

The entire day at school, Mammon and Lucifer followed you around like puppies. Lucifer would always offer to carry your stuff and you couldn’t say no to him.

Mammon would just take it from you and say “You should be honored that The Great MAMMON has decided to help you, a lowly human, with your things! Be grateful!”.

For some reason though, you had this weird feeling that there was something behind this. The two oldest, two of the most powerful demons out of everyone in Devildom randomly decided to help you with everyday tasks? Maybe you expected it from Mammon, but Lucifer? Something was up. But still, you brushed it off and only thought of it as friendliness.

Just before dinner, you announced that you would be eating your food in your room.

“Huh!? Why!?” Mammon shouted, already at your side. You looked up at him and laughed softly.

“Stop shouting. I really wanna watch this movie that I got off of Azukon a couple weeks back, but I could never find the time,” You sighed sadly, then replaced your frown with a smile and looked past Mammon’s body to talk to the oldest.

“Lucifer, do you want to watch it with me?”

Mammon’s jaw dropped and he immediately moved himself so that he was within your vision range. “What!? Why not me!?”

“Oh please, you always help me out with my stuff! Lucifer never does, so I wanna repay him by spending some time with him! Is that so wrong?” You stood up straight again and tried to move past Mammon, but he just stepped in the same direction that you tried to go in every time. You groaned and looked up at him.

Mammon huffed and crossed his arms. “Yeah! I was doing a little extra today too! I..I thought you’d notice..” He pouted a bit and looked off to the side.

You sighed and brought your hand up to ruffle his hair. “Hey!-“

“Fine. You can watch it too, okay? You’re so needy.”

“I am not! If anything, you’re the needy one! You needed my help all day just for a couple of books!”

“I never asked for anyone’s help, but okay Mammie,” You chuckled and shook your head, walking past him as he tripped over his words to think of a retort. He followed behind you once he noticed you were gone.

You approached Lucifer with a smile, and he returned a small one. “So, do you want to watch it with me? You’ll have to eat in my room though,” You held your hands behind your back and fiddled with your fingers a bit.

“Sure. It sounds enjoyable. What movie is it?” He hummed, watching Mammon’s expression get increasingly more irritated.

“It’s this movie called ‘Me and my brother both love this one girl and are both battling for her affection by doing small acts of kindness, but she’s so dense that she doesnt even realize!’! The reviews were really good so, I bought it!”

Lucifer and Mammon both blinked, then glanced at each other, then back to you. You still had a giant smile on.

Lucifer cleared his throat. “Ah..sure.. It sounds very familiar though. Maybe I have watched it.”

“Nope, It’s pretty new. I doubt you’ve watched it,” You hummed, walking past both of them and heading for your bedroom.

“Cmon! I already have it ready to watch. Let’s go!”

lmk if you want me to turn this into a smut or fluff lmao im not sure where im gonna take this its all up to you babe

#obey me #mammon #lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader

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survivormetaverse · 3 years

Text

Episode 1 - "I know the game will pick up eventually" ~Shaad

chile lemme not get thrown out for making all these stan twitter bitch references I'M LICHERALLY HARMLESS I DON'T MEAN MOST OF WHAT I SAY DKJFHASJKLDG

ngl tho i'm kinda shitting myself over these challenges bc i don't wanna get tossed on the first round JKAHFSJKDGHJ my ant eye et tea is through the ROOF

oh girl, first impressions? ngl, the gays and girls here seem quite lovely, hopefully they won't have to carry me the entire time LMAO

Okay like the only person I like/talked to is Jodi but she seems like a smart cookie so ima sleep with one eye open. But idk I'm ready to put on my fake ass smile and my fake ass kind words and get through this part. It's interesting with 6 people per tribe like if we lose I don't have that solid "core" yet but theres a chance that it would be me, jodi, amy because we were the first three on and active so idk. the immunity challenge is cool, the hunt challenge is cool too. im not good at timed puzzles, so I don't think I'm gonna go for it but a part of me feels like everyone across the tribes isnt gonna do it becsuse theyre scared so thats a good opportunity to sneak in and play with less people against me? idk idk idk ahhh

🎶Oh my god we're back again🎶 Hey peeps!! :DDD Here I am againnnn, how fun! Tbh I forgot this was today lowkey and Dylan reminded me and I was like oop 😳 also I am so sorry to everyone that I cannot help but sprinkle the fact that we are now dating in all of my first convos bc IM VERY GAY apologies✨ for how often I'm mentioning it I mean 😂 My tribemates seems so cool, Jennifer and Babs are newbies but seem up to the challenge, Jay A and Colin already giving off immaculate vibes✨ Me and Dyl are hosting Ingary in a month and I do have like work and everything so I don't know exaclty how active I'll be in this game/ how far I'll make it but we'll see won't we!!

not me being a leader of whateva

it's the lack of reading comprehension for me (that was shade directed towards myself)

In the fools tribe !!! Moth is in my tribe which is good because we have played together before. The immunity challenge is divide and conquer! So I believe I will be doing the endurance one. I think I’ll be okay... and the hunt announcement is a good twist !!! I’m not sure if I’ll participate in the first one.. but I’ll probably change my mind. ANYWAYS, I’m ready to kick some ass

Hey guys it's me Brayden and I am so here. I'm so excited to be playing again and stuff and I have already predicted the future that I'll be the winner. Anyways I was at an award ceremony for like the first 3 hours of the game which is kind of scary bc I feel like I missed alot but I'm trying to talk to people and stuff and see what's going on. I've briefly talked to Jodi, Amy, and Ginnifer (who is so hard to talk to btw I like send her messages trying to start a real conversation and she will just respond being like same or something). Anyways the other 2 people on my tribe are offline rn so ig I missed my chance to talk to them tonight so I'll do that tomorrow. Anyways I signed up to do counting and I'm so excited bc I literally KILLED the counting challenge on Kyoshi Islands so I'm so excited to hopefully kill it again. I also decided to play the hunt challenge even though I only have 3 chances bc I'm hoping alot of people will be scared to use one of their three chances to play in the first round and I can have a better chance of winning it. But I think I'm bad at puzzles. I didn't think it through that hard I think I got excited to play a challenge but whatever I'll probably win the advantage then in a few weeks win the whole game anyways see u later.

SO its the morning after the premiere!! Everyone's settled in!! and I kinda don't know how to feel?? Overall the premiere was kinda quiet, nothing happened worth noting tbh. Everyone on the tribe showed up, so thats good, but i think we're all just feeling each other out at the moment as for the people on my tribe! everyone seems chill but also i can't put my finger on it but SOMEHOW this tribe radiates chaotic energy. I don't know HOW or WHY but I just know it DOES. The way we're interacting in the tribe chat it seems like there's a very wide range of personalities and vibes. They're either gonna complement each other or clash, and I guess we're just gonna have to wait to find out which one!!! here are my quick night 1 first impressions that no one asked for :) Anastasia - she showed up kinda late bc she had life happening, understandable. BUT she kinda just jumped right in and started vibing with everyone!! so I think she's gonna be a strong social player. I talked to her and she seems really funny, I think I might really get close with her if I'm able to talk to her more Babs - IF our tribe does end up being chaotic, it's going to be because of Babs. They're definitely the most talkative and prominent person on the tribe, but I think they might come off as messy to others. they're really funny though!! so again I can see myself wanting to work with them if I can get to know them more. They are the biggest question mark on the tribe for me currently Elle - AH. I LOVE THEM ALREADY. Within minutes of us talking they mentioned Dylan and then I found out that they're DATING and I was SCREECHING. cutest shit i've ever heard. I'm so excited to meet and play with them. Dylan is one of my fave people in the org community so ofc I wanna get to know Elle and connect with them as well!! Jay - I think Jay seems like just a very genuine open person?? Like we talked for quite a while yesterday just about games and he was asking me questions about my experience with them and all that. idk if it's because he sees me as a threat or if its because he just actually wanted to get to know me. He lowkey gives me heterosexual vibes and idk if thats true or not but idk how to bring it up. but I def wanna keep talking to him and getting to know him!! I think he might be someone I can form a genuine friendship with Jennifer - kinda have no opinion so far. I think shes the quietest on the tribe. at least for me I didn't get the chance to hear from her much. kinda gives catfish vibes. kinda gives early boot vibes. idk. we'll see what happens!

Not too much yet tbh. Just finding my footing. People are loving my energy so hopefully they’ll keep me around

So i realized Amy is runner up from the season before mine in another org and so we connected over that... of course we are not going to tell anyone else but we did have that going for us to get started. brayden is only 16 but he told me he loves magic and wanted to learn more about it so i told him id teach him some stuff! dennis and i called and connected well BUT hes kinda playing SUPER hard and wanting to throw challenges already to vote people out.. this has never worked out for anybody!! josh is cool, he works at a grocery store so he's gonna kill the "b" challenge. ginnifer has been the most MIA but i have faith that we'll work together well for the popularity contest. yall know i cant play the reverse flirt game i so badly want to coin, but i do have romance tea for yall tomorrow. stay tuned........

Jay and I talked last night so i guess we're best friends. We decided to make an alliance and try to get Elle in it. But everyone has been pretty inactive besides Jay and Collin. I've only slightly talked to Jessica this whole game and Babs hasn't even said one thing to me and I texted them hi. And apperently Babs has left Jay on opened too so they might just suck at talking right now. Hopefully Babs will talk to me they seem so funny and cool D:

I won endurance 👑!!!! Hopefully the fools tribe wins this!!!! I played against Jennifer and Dennis. I could see myself playing with Dennis down the line if we merge. I haven’t talked to anyone but Moth. So I messaged my whole tribe Introducing myself. Hopefully things work out for me!

Thoughts after the first 24hrs: https://youtu.be/I62bDSzgf68

You hear something ??? Same. Why is my tribe so quiet 😂😂😂😂 I’m trying to read off the vibes but I see nothing.

I really love my tribe and the fact that they don’t know I played last season is a good strategy to play on my end

tbh i wish we lost i wanted to go to tribal and vote one of these people out :(

Welp we got second place in the first challenge :| which isn't bad!! But it's not first place 😂😂. But I had a fun day taking pictures so whateverssss. I said I would be chaotic in this game but the opportunity hasn't presented itself yet... Guess we'll have to wait and see✨

I think at this point, my team is shady and won't say anything to me so I am nervous.

The challenges were way harder than I thought. I didn't do well at all and let my tribe down. I feel like I will be the first to get voted out if we have a tribal hearing.

We lost yay. I had a feeling. Hopefully the tribe will keep me around for now since I won endurance.... lhsisowjshwowpwpwheowowhfiwpqpqpjw. Jared thinks we can vote Bri out. Which I’m fine with, I haven’t really talked to her at all. Jared and I are going to message the others and see where everyone’s head is at. Honestly I don’t care who goes home as long as I’m safe. Everyone is quiet which is so annoying. Blahhhhhhhhhh

Well it’s my 3rd time playing and it’s not off to the best start, no one seems to be talking to anyone. And we lost meaning we are going to tribal council. So fuck- I have no idea what about to happen. I’m just hoping it’s not me or Jess

if i must confess, my strategy is to have a 4-3-2 alliance. i need a 4 to have a majority, but i dont have a 4 yet. within the 4, theres a three person alliance w me jodi and amy, but within that three i believe that the core 2 is myself and jodi. i really dont care who the 4th is. i like having jodi and amy as an alliance because theyre both doing wayy too much which is great for me :) i dont think any of these people have idols but who knows. i would love to throw the next immunity i wanna go to tribal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Looks like we’ve got something good. We’ve got an alliance that’s set to (hopefully) vote out bri due to inactivity. Let’s just pray it works

Trying to talk in this tribe is so difficult In both my other seasons I was pretty quiet all the time It is like that x10000 I was hoping to stay under the radar but that doesn’t work if no one talks at all I suppose it depends on if I’m being played or if everyone just doesn’t talk. I think there’s a plan. Let’s hope it goes well

OKAY SO. Moth, Jared and I have a little alliance going on. We are set on voting out Bri. I just talked to Danny and Shaad and they are down with voting Bri out. I have high hopes that I’ll be safe at tribal.

Better communication.. in sticking with that fact, our communication in my team could be better and we need to put more effort into what we do, I believe in us!

https://youtu.be/595h7hmL6VY

The start to this game has been a freaking snails pace...it’s unbelievable to me that these people do not want to talk that much, especially when it’s a tribe of 6. Colin and I talk the most, I’ve gotten a decent amount out of Anastasia, and to me it feels like those 2 wants to work with me and I am fine with working with them. Usually in a larger group you want to figure out who you can work with long term and use the first few tribals to establish trust, I may throw that out the window since there’s only 5 other people on this tribe. My strategy needs to be who the hell can get me past these first few votes before a swap happens, and I feel like I can rely on Colin and Anastasia for that. I’d like to pull in Elle, because she’s the one who’s talked to me the most out of her, Babs, and Jennifer. Everyone seems nice, but it would be lovely if people would be more active.

I’m enjoying the fact our tribe won the first challenge everyone is very nice I love it :)

This round has been pretty smooth sailing. I know the game will pick up eventually but for now, we are just going with the flow as a tribe

https://youtu.be/UZVzZ6d6GRU

ok so apparently ginnifer isn't famous. she's just a bit quiet and mysterious. ok with me, just gonna take a while because I'm a loud and outspoken person (and player). amy, dennis and I have an alliance called "fang gang" (it's really just 3 emojis of vampires) and we're going to run the premerge hopefully. I do like brayden a lot, and maybe I'll propose a 3 with him, amy and myself to have a solid 4 control the votes until a swap. round 1 not bad so far!

~~~

Edgics:

Power Rankings:

Phantom

Jodi: I believe Jodi is thriving on this tribe. She is very obviously a social player who picks up on the littlest details. I’m sure she can sniff out a plot if it comes down to it. However, Jodi is the plot. She is the leader of her tribe and is easily the most active person in the game at the moment. So long as she keeps a smile on her face and doesn’t overextend to do something messy, she will find that she will make it safely to merge. Allying with Amy could be dangerous however since Amy has stated she needs to be voted out before a certain date. This means that Jodi needs to socialize with other members of her tribe and get new allies before hers will inevitably be voted out of the game.

Amy: Even though she wants to get voted out, Amy has set herself up perfectly at Jodi’s side. She can take the heat off of herself using Jodi and is able to hide better than others. As always, her UTR game has come out to shine. She hasn’t had anyone call her out and even though Jodi has seen her play she is still able to gain her trust.

Josh: Doing so well in the challenge has earned Josh’s place here. He makes his worth known early and has a great personality as well. This makes him very safe for any early tribal councils as no one is going to want to take him out; they want him on their side. Similar to Amy, he just seems to be using an under the radar social game which he is executing well at the present moment. And, as the star of the challenge, he makes himself safe for future tribals before the swap. However, I do fear that this early impression of competition prowess will come back to haunt him if he makes it to the merge.

Dennis: I would put Dennis higher, but Jodi, his ally, already is suspicious of him. She seems to think of him as a bit of a sneak and, as the tribe leader, her opinions matter the most. It is good that he is able to be Jodi’s ally so she might stray away from voting him out. However, his desire to go to tribal and play the game so early may bite him in the butt later down the line. I can definitely see him being called out for trying to play too hard too fast. At the moment, he remains high because he seems to be decently social and no one except Jodi has sniffed him out.

Brayden: There’s not much to say on Brayden’s game. He doesn’t seem to have any allies, his challenge performance wasn’t as good as others on his tribe, and he is not in any alliances yet. This spells disaster for Brayden if his tribe goes to consecutive tribal councils. Additionally, even though he was one of the few to play in the Hunt, he didn’t win and wasn’t even close to doing so. He even gave up part way through to do the immunity challenge. I would be saving them if I were Brayden, but hindsight is 20/20. If Brayden can squeeze into being the fourth of the Jodi, Amy, Dennis alliance instead of Josh then maybe his game forecast will be better.

Ginnifer: The thing that lands Ginnifer on the bottom is that she said that her tribe could vote her out if they lost the challenge. This primes people to already be willing to get rid of her in this game. Additionally, some people have expressed difficulty with talking to Ginny such as Jodi and Amy. The former still wants to give Ginny a try at being an ally while the latter was ready to vote her out if necessary. Ginny just needs to pick up social steam and outperform in the next comp if she’s going to have longevity in this game.

Fools

Jessica: In lieu of a clear leader, Jessica has stepped up as she started the first alliance on her tribe with Moth and Jared. No doubt, Jessica’s prior relationship with Moth helped facilitate. Additionally, this seems to paint them as the “active” members of this not active tribe. Therefore, it will be very easy for Jessica to dictate votes without getting labelled as a threat since her tribe is not active enough to do so. I can definitely see her leaning on Moth as a crutch, but for now she is the topdog of her tribe. Especially so since she was the only member of her tribe to win a challenge in Divide and Conquer.

Moth: As Jessica’s right-hand person, Moth is a secure spot. It also helped that they have played this game before and is on a not active tribe. This vibes well with Moth’s gameplay style since they aren’t a social powerhouse like Jodi or Colin. Instead, she keeps it more lowkey which makes this tribe in particular a great tribe for her to thrive in.

Jared: While he hasn’t provided a confessional yet, it’s clear he’s positioned himself well with Moth and Jessica. As the topdogs of the tribe, they are key people to get in with. Besides that, he seems to be a little more active than some others, but there’s not much else to say as of right now.

Danny/Shaad: Him and Shaad can trade spots on this ranking because they are playing similar games at the moment. They are both quiet and inactive, yet are not part of the core alliance of this tribe. This could spell danger for them in upcoming tribal councils if they don’t start working on people now. They seem to be safe for now based solely on Bri’s inactivity, but, otherwise, they need to pick up their socio-strategic game before it is too late.

Bri: She seems to be the most likely person to get voted out. She was not online at all for the first two days of the game and has since remained inactive. She is easy pickings for the top 3 of this tribe which really hurts my heart. I know her in real life and she is very sociable and easy to get along with. I have no doubt that in a real life game of Survivor or Big Brother, she would kill the social game.

S.E.E.S.

Colin: Similar to Jodi, Colin is the most social person on his tribe at the moment. However, unlike Jodi, he has not taken a leader position which works to his benefit. Despite being social, Colin has been able to slip under the radar of most people with a lot of them wanting to work with him. Colin is easily going to survive until the swap, but I will caution him from getting too many allies too quickly. This tribe in particular has a wildcard willing to blow things like that up so he needs to be careful.

Elle: Similar to her previous games, Elle plays an extraordinary social game and becomes very well-liked very easily. They have no problem fitting into any situation and I foresee them making it far if they gain the right allies. What puts her at number 2 as opposed to number 1 is that she hasn’t made any strategic comments yet. Instead, she is focusing on a social game which is not a bad thing. Colin has just shown more of his gameplay in these rounds.

Anastasia: Anastasia, despite being late to the premiere, has been able to socialize with key people such as Colin and Jay. Her prior connection with Elle has also sparked an interest in Colin in working with the two of them as an alliance. Overall, her and Elle sort of share the 2 and 3 spot since they are both well-liked, did well in the challenge, and are prime allies for Colin whose word will feel like law if this tribe ever goes to tribal.

Jay: Jay is neither here nor there. He isn’t in the bottom, but he is not calling the shots either. It is good that Colin wants him as his number 1 and that Anastasia likes him. Out of the three outside of this potential Elle, Colin, Anastasia alliance, he seems like he will be most likely to be saved until a swap occurs. His calls with people have certainly been helping with that as people are able to bond more with him through there. His activity could use work, but he doesn’t need to be active if he’s liked.

Babs: With another Jodi comparison, Babs has taken the leadership position of their tribe. However, they are not as social and, in fact, considered a big threat since they are so willing to talk freely and openly in the tribe chat. Their gameplay is going to be Messy, and people have already pointed that out, making them a clear target if this tribe goes to tribal council. Despite that, they aren’t at the bottom since some people, like Colin, have expressed interest in working with that kind of player as a sort of shield. If Babs were to tone it down and be more social with people (another problem with their game), they may be able to crawl up these rankings.

Jennifer: Sadly I have to put another phonetic Jennifer at the bottom. She did the worst in the challenge across her tribe and isn’t active either. For this round, it seems she would be the easy vote if this tribe had gone to tribal. She needs to start being more social and be more of a presence in people’s minds.

#episode #episodes

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bucciarati-pizza · 4 years

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[ Fic ] - Jumpin’ Jack Flash: Chapter 1

SO IM FINALLY POSTING THIS AFTER DANCING AROUND IT FOR AGES ///

me and my jobro @justjuliainc have been developing this AU fic together. it is a slow burn bruabba where Abbacchio remains a cop, his partner lives, and Bruno is a fisherman along with various other character swaps. and well, without saying much more, I hope you all enjoy the start of this bizarre adventure ;))

A blaring police car spun around a corner then ground to a halt at its final destination. The rain made it hard to make anything out.

“I’m searching the north wing, you do south!,” an officer yelled over the sound of crashing thunder and lightning. Two sets of shoes splashed through the mud the police car was now in. “Got it!,” the other replied back, turning on a flashlight. “You think they’re armed?”

The first officer was already pulling the gun from his belt, answering his question.

Then came the screams. Muffled like someone had covered their mouth, but still clear as ever. They echoed throughout the entire building and out into that terrible rain.

A shudder ran down both their spines. Children’s screams. This shabby abandoned looking cement building on the outskirts of town happened to be an orphanage.

They frantically ran towards the double doors.

“No one, over my dead body is getting away with this shit. Not tonight. Not ever.”

The officer that spoke had a fierce glint of gold in his eyes, illuminated by his partner’s flashlight. He wore a shade of lipstick that nearly matched the stormy night sky.

“Abbacchio.” The man turned to the sound of his name. “I second that, with all my heart.” He kicked the door in with a determined grin, his hat tipping slightly to reveal short brown hair. “Let’s put an end to this!”

Abbacchio nodded, barely having the time to reply, “I’m counting on you too, Michele!” before blindly racing up the stairs.

The sound of screaming got louder the closer he got to the top. His heart raced. The police had been investigating a strange series of kidnappings for weeks now, with no trace of the culprit. A 911 call was made from the orphanage just a half hour before now. Yet no other information was disclosed, both Abbacchio and his partner knew deep down inside exactly who it was. The same one responsible for all the recent crimes. And this time, said suspect had gone too far.

The hall seemed to never end. Abbacchio never questioned why the door he needed to burst in as soon as possible was getting further rather than closer away. Maybe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. He never questioned why the floor beneath his feet seemed to warp into otherworldly shapes when weight was applied. He didn’t look down.

It seemed like forever when he finally made it. Panting, he tried the door and it was unlocked. The crying ceased the instant he opened it. He had a sudden sinking feeling. “Where are they?” The sinking feeling got worse. “Where the hell are they?!” He pointed gun over flashlight across the small room and found nothing but empty beds.

Impossibile...

Not even a window was open. Just what was going on?

While searching under beds, Michele ran through the door. “I-I didn’t find a thing. I searched every room on the way here too,” he said wearily. “There’s not a single person in here.”

Abbacchio pulled himself out from the bed he was under. “I don’t understand,” he began, shaking slightly.

“Something bizarre is going on. This is the room most of the screaming came from. They were in here”

We’re too late.

His partner turned his head at another sound. It caused them both to shudder. More desperate screaming filled the dark halls of the orphanage.

They both shared a knowing glance and cautiously started for the source of the noise, covering each other’s backs. It was only two doors down. Once again, it seemed to be getting further. It took a few minutes to reach it. “What’s going on? Is this some kind of madhouse?,” Michele hissed, terrified and confused. He looked down at the floor and gasped.

“No clue, but I’m going in!,” Abbacchio replied as he charged through the door.

“Wait, Abbacchio!”

All he saw was a flash of light before the wind was knocked out of him and he fell to the hard wood floor. He lie there for a few seconds trying desperately to catch his breath, vision blurring. Two bodies tumbled over each other, in the corner of the room, one spitting out rows of curses.

“I’ll fucking kill you! Right here! Agk- I’ll...“

Abbacchio didn’t recognize that voice. Not good! He began to force himself to stand up. A gun went off.

Abbacchio’s heart skipped all it’s beats.

A gun went off and something clanked to the floor.

Abbacchio’s feet moved before his body.

“Michele! Michele!!!”

His partner was hunched over another man, unmoving. A pistol had been slid across the floor. There were bullet holes in the bookshelf in the other corner. Wait.. didn’t that mean..

Michele was only still because he was straining to hold the man’s writs down.

He missed!

“Abbacchio, I’m— sorry I had to push you out of the way so hard. I realized we were being stalked when there was a third shadow on the ground. Somehow, this bastard was behind us and was about to attack you.”

Abbacchio had no words. He panted speechless before them.

“Agh!,” his partner suddenly exclaimed.

“You thought you could catch me that easily?,” the pinned man seethed. He had taken the opportunity to spit in Michele’s eyes. “How do ya like that, eh?” He chuckled maniacally. He nearly got his hands free, when in one swift movement, Abbacchio took over, keeping him held down.

“Cazzo. Don’t dare underestimate us.”

Michele hummed in dissatisfaction once he wiped his eyes, brushing off his jacket. Abbacchio took a moment to look around the room with narrowed eyes.

The thug beneath him was scrawny, yet surprisingly strong, his blonde shoulder length hair tangled into disgusting mats. He looked to be about 30, but was probably a lot younger. He sounded hoarse when he spoke. He managed to kick Abbacchio’s leg hard, trying every mean possible to distract them and escape.

The silver haired cop had enough and roughly put both wrists into handcuffs.

“...Where are they?,” Michele wondered out loud, still looking around.

“Ow! Take it easy on me would ya?! And what the hell do you wanna know?”

Leone gritted his teeth, a growl rising in his throat.

“You know damn well! What happened to whoever was in this room? There.. there was screaming,” he said the last part half to himself.

The man remained silent, glaring between both of them for a second before bursting out laughing.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you! You think I’m the answer? You think you little heroes are doing society a favor by coming here?,” he shook his head, still chuckling while both officers looked on distraught.

“Well, you have no idea what you get yourself into,” he continued voice turning deep and gravely again, “When you stick your nose into places it

doesn’t belong.”

Something about the man’s words gave them both an uneasy feeling about the future. Yet, they couldn’t afford to let it bother them now. The man was eventually taken outside and shoved in the back of the police car. His gun was seized along with him and they would use that too in their upcoming investigation. They were going to get answers.

Neither Michele or Abbacchio really knew what happened that night or even how to explain it.

But a few things were hauntingly certain:

Hundreds of orphaned children had somehow vanished right under their noses.

There were no signs of the caretakers and whoever made the phone call either.

The man they captured wasn’t the ringleader in all of this. If he was, there would’ve been a much bigger show.

Abbacchio’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.

And he believed that there were strange forces about.

....

“Idioti!”

Both officers jumped slightly when the hand of their chief slammed down on his office desk.

“Pardon?,” Michele asked, taken aback. Abbacchio looked just as confused.

They had been called into Signor Polpo’s office early in the morning to “discuss last night’s endeavor.”

Polpo was a sight to behold. Morbidly obese, he had to have a special chair made just for him to sit in. He towered over practically everyone at nearly 7 feet tall. No one had ever seen him without a hat, even when on a break from duty. His eyes people say, became so void of a soul that the sclera began to turn completely black. No matter what the reason was behind it, this was somehow true. Bright green irises were surrounded by a beady black that made anyone who met his gaze shiver.

Signor Polpo was the kind of man that made Leone’s blood boil.

“Did you not understand what we reported to you?,” Abbacchio asked slowly, tone dark.

The obscenity hummed briefly, looking between the two like they were mere ants beneath him before replying.

“You both became some of the force’s brightest pupils in a very short amount of time. You flew through training as if it were nothing, and I knew right away I could depend on you to... protect the streets of Napoli.”

The chief’s voice boomed throughout the tiny room and he ended that last sentence with a chuckle.

Abbacchio and Michele didn’t like this one bit. What the hell was he getting at?

“Yet...”

Polpo’s brows were furrowed.

“You had to go on and pull a stunt like this?!”

Abbacchio’s quick temper was about to show. “Wh-“

“No backup. No means of communication. Going to a useless abandoned orphanage by yourselves only to catch a petty street thug. I simply thought I knew you better.”

What?

Michele got a terrible feeling. Abbacchio saw red.

“Abandoned?..”

Polpo didn’t skip a beat. “I think you two are forgetting who decides what you get to look into and when,” he continued pointing a finger right at Leone.

Abbacchio didn’t look up. His fist was clenched at the side of his chair and his jaw was tight.

His partner looked speechless for a few seconds before trying to ask again.

“Abandoned? It.. it was an obvious kidnapping!”

That among various other things.

Abbacchio knew it was no use to bombard the chief with questions when it was already apparent what was going on.

Polpo remained poker-faced.

“I didn’t order you to go there, did I?”

“No, Capo,” replied Michele, looking away.

Abbacchio remained silent, biting his lip to keep from exploding. “They paid him off. He accepted it. They paid him off. The fat fuck is actually in on this,” was all that raced through his head.

“Did. I?,” pressured Polpo, his chair creaking as he leaned closer to Abbacchio’s face. And now he couldn’t even argue.

The officer with short grey hair looked up, his eyes furious but tone neutral when he finally answered.

“...No, Capo.”

Polpo stared at him for a few additional seconds before adding, “Good. I’m glad we can all come to that understanding.”

Abbacchio’s brows twitched. He and Michele had risked their lives continuously for the people. Last night, one or both of them could have died. Came very close, in fact. All the victims of a crime that had yet to be investigated were probably never going to be seen again and any evidence of something gone wrong would be erased. Yet, the whole time, his own chief was in on it? He knew Polpo took bribes and negotiated with criminals. He hated him for that. But this? This was way too far.

The room was dangerously silent.

Polpo narrowed his eyes. “You must understand the certain contradictions that come with this job. It’s how this world works. I expect you to await my command before even putting on your uniforms in the future.” He leaned back in his chair, upturning his long nose. “I’m only looking out for your safety.”

Michele glanced over at Leone. Uh oh.

He knew that look. Wide, twitching eyes. Biting his lip and shaking. If they didn’t get out of Polpo’s office soon, something was going to happen that would end with him beating the shit out of someone. Michele had much to discuss with his partner that wouldn’t dare be brought up in this room.

“Oh and one more thing,” Polpo started with an eerie smile. “You’ll leave this little meeting with your mouths zipped shut. What we just discussed is a secret between you and me. I can trust you... right boys?”

Silent nods.

“Excellent. You’re dismissed.”

Michele bowed customarily. Abbacchio just glared at him, such passion in his ombré eyes that Polpo read it as a warning.

Once the door was shut and their footsteps got further away, Signor Polpo picked up the phone on his desk and dialed a number.

“Send me backup. They’re getting too smart for their own good.”

.............

“FUCK!,” Abbacchio yelled throwing his hat off once he and his partner got onto the street and turned the corner into an alley. “FUCK. FUCK..” He kicked it in frustration, in complete rage by now.

“I’M TIRED OF THIS,” he kicked again, “STUPID... SHIT FOR BRAINS,” more kicks, “FUCKING POOR EXCUSE OF THE POLIZIA.”

Michele stood there with a hand on his shoulder, not quite sure how he should try to begin to calm him.

“I’M TIRED OF IT. I’M,” his movements slowed and he threw himself against a wall, defeated. “..tired of it.”

He slid down against it, pulling his knees to his chest. Lost and vulnerable.

“Leone..”

His partner sighed and bent over to pick up the hat and brush it off before joining Abbacchio against the wall.

“Leo.. it’ll be okay..”

Abbacchio’s gaze remained downwards, staring blankly at the ground between his legs. He hadn’t even registered there was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You know what? You know what this feels like, Michele?”

The other officer remained silent for a moment before asking, “What?”

“It feels like we’re in the goddamn mafia.”

Abbacchio looked up.

“I didn’t want to say it. I wanted to push it to the back of my mind. But I can’t... because it’s true.”

Michele took his hat off.

“The way things are going, I have to agree with you... but..”

Abbacchio looked at him hopelessly.

“That doesn’t mean we can’t do something about it, right?”

“I don’t.. know what to do. No one is going to believe us over that pig Polpo. But I can’t let the victims die. I can’t... let these crimes continue to happen while the rest of the force sleeps on it.”

Michele nodded.

“It will be stopped. Don’t ask how, but I know.”

No words were spoken for at least a few minutes.

“Coffee?”

“Fuck, do I ever need coffee.”

“I doubt anyone will care if we stop at Libeccio before we get grounded.”

Michele smiled, helping his partner up. Abbacchio’s expression lit up. It was the name of his favorite little restaurant and it had been ages since he even stepped foot in it. He brushed himself off and put his hat back on.

“Let’s go.”

Michele did the same.

“That’s the spirit.”

....

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lottabank · 4 years

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name: evelyn charlotte banks nicknames: charlotte , lottie , lott , char , charlie , charmander , etc. but she no longer goes by evelyn in this lifetime age: twenty three physically , sixty seven biologically sexuality: panromantic / sexual pronouns: she / her , cisfemale species: vampire sign: gemini spotify: here pinterest: here

hello moon beams and star shines , this is late but i’ve just been busy with work ! i’ve got the time to try and finish stuff now , so i’m gonna work on trying to do my daughter’s intro. if you’d like to plot feel free to hmu via tumblr im or ask for my discord bc i’ll gladly give it. i also play rune ( shadow graced human ) so yeah it’s snottie back at it again , anything you want to know about me or lottie alike hmu or just read below to find out more about my sweet serial killer vamp princess

── the high council is prepared to hear the story of EVELYN CHARLOTTE ‘ LOTTIE ‘ BANKS , a VAMPIRE while noted as a WANDERER. we might of mistaken them as MADELAINE PETSCH. appearances may be deceiving, with immortality being so common among supernaturals. this being has walked the earth for NINETY years, and their face reflects an age of TWENTY THREE they’re a CITIZEN of estonia and will be residing in TALLIN.

during their stay of the harvest they shall work by day as a STRIPPER to blend in with the mortal crowd. however, at night you might find them as AN ESCORT / ASSASSIN. they’re UNHAPPY about the harvest, however, they plan to please the high council.

PERSONALITY.

vampire beauty queen , primadonna , self-proclaimed princess. this darling girl has always loved attention , luxury , all things beautiful and transitioning to the darkness only heightened that love. so much so that she will do just about anything to satisfy her own wants or needs. lottie is ruthless , verging on sociopathic. she is delicate , but she is dangerous. she is by no means unfeeling though , nor incapable of love. she can be sweet , she can be soft , she can be pink cheeks and bright smiles just as she can be bloody lips and deranged laughter. she is genuinely kind , loving and gentle unless your death would make her happier than your being alive.

ruling planet: mercury — the planet of communication body parts: shoulders , arms , hands element: air good day: fascinating , original , resourceful , charming , wise , adventurous bad day: restless , distracted , two-faced , judgmental , depressed , overwhelmed favorite things: cell phones , fast cars , trendy clothes , obscure music , guitars , books , clubbing least favorite things: small-minded people , dress codes , authority figures , silence , routines secret wish: to have all the answers how to spot her: mischievous twinkle in her eyes, humming , talking with her hands where you’ll find her: taking pictures , behind the bar , in a chat room , playing devil’s advocate keywords: communication , collaboration , synergy , cleverness , wittiness , inventiveness , ingenuity

charlotte’s energy circulates in a quick and frenetic way , witty wordplay and dynamic dialogue are her forte. she is great for brainstorming and socializing , but craves “ twin flame ” and kindred spirit energy and is always up for an intellectual meeting of the minds.

under the influence she can find herself with the gift of gab , talking and conversing with others for hours hopping from pop culture trends to deep political topics. beware of when she becomes a “ gossip girl , ” as she can crank up the rumor mill. as renowned dr. bernie siegel says , “ we have the ability to cure with either ‘ words ’ or kill with ‘ swords. ' ”

the essence of charlie’s energy is fascinating , original , resourceful , charming , wise , and adventurous. some negative manifestations can devolve into more restless , distracted , two-faced , judgmental , depressed , and overwhelmed energy.

lottie has a tendency to ride the roller coaster of life , spiraling skywards one minute and plunging into lows the next. if you can keep up with her vibes though , you’ll have one hell of a thrill !

charlotte exhibits great creative synergy , instantly connecting people to each other. always inclined to spend time with friends and focused on changing the world one idea at a time.

a little bit older and wiser , more flexible and comfortable with change than others. she can “ chameleon ” herself to fit into a variety of situations.

can come across as clever and quick-witted , eager to dish out the juiciest pieces of news and happenings to their friends via text message and social media. in case that’s not enough , she’ll probably send you a snapchat story for good measure.

lottie loves fast cars , trendy clothes and any wacky gadgets or games they can tinker around with. part of the fun ( and curse ) of this fiery red head is that you’re never quite sure which personality you’re going to experience. will it be the vivacious , pun-dishing jokester or the snarky , mean-spirited critic ? if you’re willing to see fifty shades of crazy , she’ll color your life in thrilling ways !

BACKGROUND.

evelyn charlotte banks was born june fourth , 1930 and was given the dark gift in the early fifties ( so you’ll definitely notice some call backs to that time period ). she has grown and developed and adapted throughout time better than most , but you can take the sock hop away from the girl but not out of her. she remembers her life before , but doesn’t dwell on nor even really miss it.

she grew up in your rather classic straight lace upper middle class suburban family and community with her perfect nuclear family. the town they lived in was small , close knit , and everyone knew everyone but especially who evelyn’s family was.

she was in a lot of pageants growing up and was even platinum blonde for most of her human life , because she was so afraid her red hair would keep her from being successful.

when she was eighteen years old with big shiny dreams of silver screens , luxury , and eyes all on her was all she could think of. she left her family and their small generational hometown in georgia for bigger , better things in none other than hollywood.

she was on her way , so desperate to be in the movies and be like marilyn monroe but shortly after is when she became ensnared by darkness and evil. she wasn’t very successful at all in the beginning so , she started wearing tighter , shinier outfits when she was on stage when suddenly she started getting actual recognition.

she wasn’t acting like she had intended , but it turned out her voice was good enough to land her plenty of lounge singing gigs in multiple joints. it was one particularly dark , seedy , dangerous joint that only opened once the sun set completely and closed upon the sun rise that she finally started to get propositioned to do so-called ‘ film gigs. it was also in this place where she met him for the first time.

( tw: cult ment. ) her maker is very old and before she ever knew he was anything more than a handsome older gentleman she was fully under his control. he was something of a cult leader who for the most part glamoured his ‘ followers ‘ , but that was never necessary with charlotte. she was thoroughly and completely in love with her maker , she even ‘ married ‘ him and lived on his compound.

( tw: rape ment. , assault ment. ) it wouldn’t be for a few more years that he would finally turn her ,and only after he found her brutally beaten and raped for nothing more than a snuff film. her maker found her on the verge of death and wasted no time in saving her life by bestowing his dark gift upon her.

( tw: murder ment. ) to say that lottie felt indebted to and fell in love with her maker to the point of obsession was an understatement , she would do anything and everything he asked of her including murder not in the name of feeding.

( tw: death ment. ) the films she was in were kept in the dark underbelly of the industry and no one was none the wiser , not to mention everyone thought she was dead after her last film.

so , she eventually did make her debut in film and was even on the silver screen finally. this only lasted for as long as she could get away with not aging before eventually she disappeared off the radar with her maker. the two traveled far and wide for a long time , but eventually went their separate ways even though lottie wanted nothing of the sort her maker commanded she live her own life without him now.

( tw: murder ment. ) she has since become something of a murderer ?? she prefers to call herself an assassin but it’s rare anyone actually pays her to murder anyone. you could even call her a serial killer if you take into account that her victims are almost always men of the unsavory variety , but she has two sides to her personality and it’s not like she’s full maniac.

ETC.

if you know what yandere means she fits that description very well , and if you don’t know what it means well: a common term in otaku fandom , a yandere is a person ( usually female ) romantically obsessed with someone to the point of using violent means to get them in their arms. often can be seen featured with a sharp weapon and a psychotic grin.

pretty much she comes off as this sweet , lovely , beautiful woman with lots of talent but in reality she can switch that off in an instant and literally kill you without any hesitation if it benefits her or someone she loves.

anyway she has been in estonia for only a bit now , but how long is flexible. she probably likes the scenery and the supernatural presence , but she’s honestly not a country mouse at all.

also not that she needs money , but there is very little she loves more than attention and money. she works at a club as live entertainment on occasion , singing or stripping or bartending or occasionally doing , mostly for the attention but also if she’s in need of money.

#vainglory.community #vainglory.intro #DOSSIER.

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redwoodrroad · 4 years

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arkus’s birthday and some background info on him

SO ive been very busy with work these past two weeks AND sick with several things SO NOW TO MAKE UP FOR MISSING ARKUS’S BIRTHDAY (WHICH WAS ON JANUARY 3RD), im gonna talk about his research

here he is hard at work in his favorite part of the Priory: the ~secret~ library

everything else is under the cut because there’s a lot of science babble, but i do hope it’s fun to read if youre into science as much as i am. i also included some sylvari-centric stuff at the end because it’s specific to arkus

so simply put: Arkus’s concentration is on a mixture among anthropology (not just human-centered either), archaeology, and geology. separately, these sciences are completely different and require different skill sets, mindsets, tools, and research tactics, but these sciences also intersect in many ways and tell a fuller and more comprehensive story when put together. consider a nomadic culture that subsists on farming and animal products: they make clear boundaries in the land between where you sleep, where you eat, where you grow the food, where you cook the food, where you prepare animal parts either for consumption in one area or the creation of materials or clothing, ETC, my point is that this group needs a specific type of landscape to settle--that type of landscape needs to be sheltered enough from weathering and predators while also close to a water source, and the land itself must contain the right nutrients to grow crops; furthermore, the general landscape must be well-liked by large animals that are high enough in quantity that the group can sustain themselves on these animals and not risk endangering the population. the geology of the earth itself, the makeup of the land, is vastly important to this culture because it deigns where they can live and how they can survive in that area

of course, when they move away, they leave behind an imprint in the land itself--these cultures are not the type to necessarily bury their dead for fear of leaving them behind, but that’s also an extrapolation on my part so i cant definitively say that, but theyre also not necessarily the type to waste or throw away animal parts--so this group might not necessarily leave the obvious archeological choice of bones behind, but bones are not the only types of fossils that exist, and they certainly arent the main focus of archaeologists on digs: archeologists are looking for everything in an area--remains of encampments, clothing, pottery, tools, etc. these are the things a nomadic group might leave behind if theyre broken or unusable or perhaps if a disaster struck, and great swaths of belongings had to be left behind. lots of things are left behind when a group like this moves away--furthermore, evidence of a large group living in a place for what we can assume is several years to decades can almost always be found in each of those locations for a culture that is nomadic. archaeologists look for that evidence, and it’s the sort of thing they can follow like a map to see the direction in which this group moved

of course, the culture of that group itself is very important and just as fascinating as the prior fields of research: consider whether this group in my example might have a hierarchy--are elders the leaders of the group? is there a matriarch or a patriarch? how are children raised, and are they raised in a manner that separates them by gender, combined with the types of work or activities these genders are expected to perform? i read about a culture where the women did the foraging and held baskets at all times, and the men did the hunting and held bows and arrows at all times, but before this makes you mad and think that this culture might have been very strict on their gender conforming, the only gender “marker” in this society was that of the baskets or the bows. regardless of sex or gender at birth--concepts this culture had no definition of beyond the gendered tasks--if you wanted to hold a basket, you are a woman; if you wanted to hold a bow, you are a man. and you’re held to that standard until you decide you want to change that. there are also cultures ive read about where food is very closely linked with the cycle of life--there are some foods you eat when you are young, there are some foods you eat when someone is pregnant, and there are items to eat when someone dies, and everything has a very specific meaning assigned to it along with when and how those items are consumed.

all of these fields coalesce in different ways, and my passion for it is also Arkus’s. i imagine he goes out several times a year to conduct field research--something that is also very particular, and no two people do field research the same way, especially when it comes to soft sciences. i will also say that Arkus’s preferred style of research is one that has a little bit of discourse in the science community, and that is that he lets himself get involved with the culture.

in the soft science world, there are two pretty big styles: Positivism and Antipositivism (also called Interpretivism but ive definitely heard it called naturalism too). positivism is clean-cut--it’s objective and empirical scientific Fact. we’re talking quantitative data analysis, objective reasoning and observation (observation ONLY), and a clear separation between Scientist and Subject.

antipositivism is the opposite--it’s not all data points and “objective” observation because to observe a culture without being part of it is not objective at all. you’re not learning about the culture if youre just watching it; you’re watching this culture from an outsider’s perspective, and from an outsider’s perspective with a completely different cultural background in mind, you will not understand the significance to any cultural action in front of you. in this way, the scientist is not separating themselves from the “subject(s);” rather, the outsider is interacting with and empathizing with the insiders. it’s a completely different mindset and one that yields results that almost cannot be measured on data points or spreadsheets.

(if you cant tell, i am an antipositivist lol)

Arkus is an antipositivist: he finds positivist thinking to be too clinical and perhaps inappropriate for his research purposes. that said, he goes out and locates groups like the vague culture i described above, and he learns about them through empathic interaction and openness. he doesnt always publish his work, but he does always ask his participants if they would like to be participants, and if not, then he helps them if they would like the interaction or leaves if they would prefer he not stick around. and that’s okay too! what he does publish is always very lengthy and involves detailed diagrams of rock formations, tools, structures, the landscape, etc, and if he’s in a position to do a dig, he may take samples of the landscape back to the Priory for further testing, especially when it comes to carbon dating or whatever the tyrian equivalent might be (the lifeforms are PROBABLY carbon based on tyria but you never know lol). at this point in the story, Arkus has been doing research for several years now--i haven’t decided when he becomes an archon, but it’s certainly his biggest career goal overall. i think it’s probably tough though because archons typically oversee really dangerous magics and sciences, so one of these days, Arkus will find a way to present his work as especially useful for that specific realm of study

i also think that with arkus’s background in a culture that is largely mysterious to other cultures is also part of why arkus has his passion for his work. to learn and discover things about culture while being simultaneously respectful and open to differences is very important to arkus, and it’s something that his culture has a particular closeness with given their history with--for EXAMPLE--the asura. no tea no shade but arkus isnt trying to be that type of way--but they also changed and got better over time; now arkus just has beef with the inquest because their research style and scientific process is the exact opposite of how arkus wants to be

i should also say--and i havent really seen really problematic evidence of this in the game--that research organizations such as the durmand priory have a tendency to be sorta...... grabby with their research. like there’s a big scientific attitude towards discovery in the modern world where the scientist(s) who discovered something feel Entitled to that discovery. it’s very western and ethnocentric, and it’s Bad. western scientists discovering x y z historic item that is important to an overseas culture’s history does not belong in a western museum or lab, i dont make the rules! unfortunately, the western scientists make the rules so like thems the brakes but let the record show i hate that

arkus is very aware of this scientific tendency to want to hold on to discoveries and sort of keep them close--safe even, in priory custody--but he also recognizes that it’s wrong to do that, so he specifically finds ways to work around that so the culture in mind gets to keep their history. sharing history and culture is really good and healthy for all cultures, but ONLY if that sharing isn’t forced or pressured onto the culture in question. arkus lives by that rule!

anyway, this was obviously just a way for me to gush about science under the guise of my character’s belated birthday, but i hope it was informative! i had fun with it ;u; and i’ll start drawing my characters again too dhfgadjfhg soon i hope

thank you for reading!

#guild wars 2 #sylvari #redwoods words #arkus tag

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qhostqizmo · 4 years

Text

Only You

it’s been a thousand years.png

im too tired to edit this

- - - - - - - - - - -

The sour churning of her stomach and sickly bitter taste left in her mouth made Essätha feel disgusted with herself. It’s not as though she had not went a life without envy; but this was not mere infatuation for luxuries she did not have. This was resentment, and a guarded insecurity for something that was not her own. She had no claims to Lord Amon, it was not her place to be jealous.

Maybe if she had more courage to open her mouth-

Then again, maybe not. Her stomach felt like it hit middle-earth at the terrifying thought. The rejection would sting; shattering fragile glass fairytale figurines playing in her mind. They would forever be cracked, even if she tried placing them together. And she adored him so; how in the world would they be able to look at each other or communicate for the remainder of this journey if she screwed this up?

She chewed on her lower lip in scowling defeat. The jiggle and bounce of her foot beneath the tap jostled it from time to time.

After what felt like hours, the nobleman approached the table with a grin on her face. Essie’s nerves felt too rattled and singed to appropriately evaluate it, but the inky swirling cloud of her thoughts were dark with a pair of green-eyes spitefully debating if that was the same look she put on his face, or more. Was it more? Was this more genuine?

“You’re the only one who waited for me?”

He seemed pleasantly puzzled. She tried to hide the strain in her smile, and swallow the venom on her tongue.

“I insisted.” Too cheery? He didn’t appear convinced.

“You didn’t have to wait if you didn’t want to, Essie.”

“I wanted to.” Dammit, she answered quickly. Eagerly. Too fast on her toes, she was almost breathless. Of course I’d wait for you, her tone said, I’ve been waiting what feels like a lifetime, for you. I could wait a little more.

The air seemed thin, or maybe she was just that lightheaded. Either way, a breath or two later, Amon offered her his hand, and cleared his throat. He appeared abnormally nervous, wearing a tense smile. Even his clammy hands had the jitters, his fingertips almost appearing to be shaking.

“I suppose we shouldn’t keep them waiting?”

Breathing out deeply through her nose, she nodded. The wolf nipping her heels had now latched on a firm grip. Jealousy was now replaced with one sorrowful note: defeat.

“Alright,” she mumbled, accepting his hand. It was as steady, firm, and reliable as she knew to be; but tender and careful just as equally in measure. His calluses made her weak, and the inquiry behind his indigo gaze made her melt. She had to watch her step getting up, just to make sure her sanity wouldn’t abandon her in place of betraying feelings, to clumsily fall into his chest like some weak-kneed lady in some romance novel.

He didn’t let go of her hand. He didn’t take his eyes off her, the smile lighting up his face and gaze twinkling in the way he regarded her.

The monster returned, surging to the surface faster then she could clamp her mouth shut into content silence.

“You really know what a woman wants.”

Like some goofy drawn comic, Amon’s jaw dropped into slack-jawed gaping.

“What?”

She was far too starved for his touch to let go of his hand, although that would be the proper thing to do. Keeping at bay the desire to wrap her fingers through his in the artful intimacy she enjoyed that made her heart flutter, Essätha merely squeezed his hand in a tight grasp and pulled his arm.

“That woman you were speaking with; she was absolutely hypnotized by you.”

Amon did not budge. He did not release her hand. His brow furrowed.

“Oh… I hadn’t noticed.”

She looked back at him, quirking a brow.

“What?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t notice a beautiful woman engaging all her time into you, while flirtatiously twirling her hair, giving you goo-goo eyes?”

Now he seemed interested.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he treaded with a deliberate slowness she could read easily. “The conversation was merely on topics I had knowledge about, and she had a lot of questions.” He inhaled, his next words escaping him in a stutter, “She… wasn’t exactly my definition of beauty, Essie.”

“I bet.”

The hurt leaked into her muttering; it was too much, breaching over the damn. As a pink stain of humiliation clouded her cheeks, Essie pulled her hand and looked away, trying to urge him to follow.

He did not budge.

Anxious and embarrassed, her defensive wall came up as she turned to look back at him. Her lips were firmly together, almost in questioning irritation.

Again his voice was clearly a man of studious care; he could see the eggshells; “I was trying to help her, Essie. It was only a casual conversation.” He swallowed thickly; his throat jumping. “… I only want to know what you want, and how I can give it to you.”

Oh fuck that sounded just like a romance novel.

She desperately tried to hold herself together, but the damage had been done. Her face grew hot in a flash so staggering she swore lightning wasn’t as fast or scorching, and she’d been struck by some pretty severe jolts. It took mere seconds for her eyes to diverge from his, but even out of the side of her gaze she could glimpse the growing horrified realization on the nobleman’s face. From hairline to neck, he was a shade of red more often attributed to having a stroke.

“… I am so sorry,” Amon choked, his grip relaxing on hers. “If… If I…”

“It’s fine,” she wheezed. It was all she could say, trying to hold her tongue.

“If I offended you-”

Again, the streak of doubt returned.

“No, I’m not,” Essie replied, her face beginning to cool as she turned her face a fraction. Amon caught her gaze. He appeared to grow more flush still.

Clearing his throat, the nobleman whispered, “That… same out sounding inappropriate. But I… I mean what I say. I care about what you, and what you want, and I want to make them a reality. I want to make you happy.”

Her disdain seemed poorly placed, but she couldn’t drop her shield all the way. Not yet. She needed that protection. It was her security blanket. Without it, the vulnerability, the insecurity, it all came spilling out in a mess. She didn’t want to scare him off.

The span of seconds ticked by like minutes. By now she was sure the rest of their party was beginning to question their whereabouts. Surprisingly, both her mind and heart inclined not to care too much.

Amon wet his lips. The knew this gesture; a nervous tick. He had something he wanted to say, and was fighting; preparing himself to say it.

His eyes shifted away from her.

Slumping her shoulders, the feeling of the moment of crackling something faded. Essie turned, surprised to find not one, but two men trying to hurriedly snap their eyes away.

Her heart jumped. Whispered Shadow agents?

The tightness of Amon’s hand in hers increased. It grew firmer then she was even used to, clasping tightly to her.

It took her a few moments longer than the nobleman to put two and two together. As they scurried along, they each shared a glance. The tint on their expressions were maroon. One nudged the other, and after a few words, one looked back at her. Her narrowed-gaze must have shown anger instead of inquisitive, because they were quick to hurry along.

A noise, drawn out and nasally, echoed in Amon’s nose and throat. “Scoundrels…”

Alarmed, Essätha placed her free hand over her heart to try calming it. “Were they watching us?”

“I don’t think they were watching me, Essie,” he muttered. Though his sentence was lacking of swears, it certainly sounded like a curse.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, staring off at night. Green-eyed monsters, huh…

Snorting back a laugh of disbelief, she shook her head. “You think they were staring at me?”

Baffled, as though her question should surprise him, the nobleman shook his head. He sighed, gently, and offered her a tender smile, as he replied, “You’re beautiful, Essätha, and I’m not the only one sees that.”

She scrunched up her nose, but her face still lit up pink. Panning her eyes back and away, she could still see a residue of his annoyance. Even with the sweetness of his eyes upon her, his jawline was still tight.

Lord Amon, jealous?

No… what did he have to be jealous for?

Squeezing his hand affectionately, she offered him a timid smile. “You do make me happy,” she affirmed warmly. “You don’t have to worry about that, m’lord.”

The tension eased in his features. Again, the longing-look of words left unsaid appeared in his face, and the way he wet his lips.

“… We should check up with the others, before they think something happened to us.”

“… R-Right.”

Trying not to appear as crescent-fallen as she felt, Essie held to the nobleman’s hand a little tighter.

He twined his fingers through hers, just the way that made her pulse quicken, and stepped closer to her side.

It almost left an impression like an afternoon romantic stroll down the quiet murmur of the street. She tried desperately not to think too much on it, and appease the other desperate, wanting monster clawing at her throat with each shy glance she passed towards him. She had a lot to put her mind on and chew on, anyway. It wasn’t every day someone practically told you they were devoting themselves to your happiness and safety.

#qhost story #Amon Illiad #Essatha Meduza #OTP: Essamon #softly written

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asoftervirge · 5 years

Text

A Royal Family

RATING: PG PAIRINGS: R. Sanders/V. Sanders (main); L. Sanders/P. Sanders (mentioned)

FIC WARNINGS/KINKS: metions of Deceit, previous abuse, nursing a child, very mild smut at the end FIC SUMMARY: It amazed him how just one year can bring about so many changes…and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

TAGLIST: @hellomusicalnerdhere, @bunny222, @hexdream18243, @ss-mafia-au, @calvindientesblancos, @backatthebein, @saphael-malec102, @thefallendog, @entpscarleharrrr, @asleepybisexual, @the-fandoms-are-takin-over, @pansexual-cat, @derpiest-unicorn, @zaidiashipper, @ierindoodles, @i-really-dig-the-purple, @im-so-infinitesimal (hello everyone, it’s great to see you all again!)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: And here it is. My little piece that I did for A Royal Bond’s one year anniversary. I want to thank every single person who commented, liked, reblogged and everything else you’ve done to support this fic. It has meant the absolute world to me and I wouldn’t have been able to finish it without all of you. And so, without further ado, let’s revisit this wonderful family one last time. x Virge

READ ON AO3 INSTEAD

Roman gently held the ends of the veil between his fingers before lifting it over the figures’ head. When he saw the face underneath, his breath was caught in his throat.

Virgil looked completely different from how Patton and Logan found him in the streets. His messy hair was washed and straightened. Instead of it being a dirty, brownish color, it now glowed a dark purple hue.

His eye makeup was stunning, dark purple with a black outline. It made his silvery-purple eyes pop. A light blush was on his cheeks, a subtle touch to contrast all the dark coloring.

Roman thought this was the most beautiful creature he ever laid his eyes on.

At first, Virgil didn’t recognize who he was standing in front of until he noticed the insignia on Roman’s uniform. His eye grew wide and his face grew red as he immediately knelt down in respect.

Patton giggled, while Thomas and Logan smiled. Roman chuckled. That seemed to be a typical reaction when strangers meet a member of royalty. He gently guided Virgil back to his feet. “Please don’t kneel.” he tells him kindly. “I do not wish for formalities right now.”

When Virgil went to speak, he found that he had no voice. He placed his hands on his throat and shook his head fearfully.

“What’s wrong?” Roman asked worriedly. “Can’t you speak?”

“I’m afraid, Your Majesty,” Logan explains, addressing Thomas more than Roman. “That when he gets into states of high anxiety or any other emotion state, they reduce him to becoming mute. In that case, he relies on communication via sign and body language along with facial expressions.”

Roman nodded in understanding. “What is your name, beautiful one? Can you try and sign it to me?”

Virgil went wide-eyed and blushed more at the pet name and quickly, albeit shakily, signed his name. My name is Virgil.

“Fortunately, he has told Patton and I that his name is Virgil, which is what he signed to you.” Logan translates. Roman adored it. “Unfortunately, however, he is a Feral Omega who was living on the streets after the abolishment of slave ownership.”

Thomas looked at Virgil sadly. “A feral Omega...Is that so?”

Virgil looked down at the pristine floor in embarrassment. He felt two finger hook under his chin and forces him to stare at Roman, who was still looking concerned.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” he tells the omega gently. “We are all friendly here. My Father was the one who abolished Omega slavery, as you probably know, and we would never hurt you.” He can see the stress leave Virgil as he begins to look more relaxed.

It took him a few tries, but Virgil utters out, “T-Thank you.”

His voice was scratchy and a little deep, but Roman loved the sound of it. Everything about the omega were things the prince secretly dreamed of.

“I-It’s no trouble, really.” he coughed, blushing a shade of red as deep as his sash. He looked at the junction between Virgil’s neck and shoulder, then met his eyes again. “May I?” Virgil didn’t necessarily know what he was asking for, but he shyly nodded.

Roman stepped forward, careful as to not make the omega anymore nervous than he was, and pressed his nose to his scent glands. His scent. It was something he never smelt before.

Despite him being a former slave, he doesn’t have a bond mark or anything to represent another alpha’s scent. Virgil was covered in his own that marked him as his and his alone.

Virgil seemed shocked by the gesture, but one whiff of the prince’s scent made him quickly submit. It was a strong, earthy scent and it provided him comfort. Feeling his anxiety leave him, Virgil wrapped his arms around Roman tightly and pressed his nose to the alpha’s scent glands.

Thomas simply stared, Patton blushed deeply, and Logan looked indignant.

Scenting on the neck was always considered a private matter. Members of royalty would only scent their consorts on their wrists. The only public exception was during weddings. Roman seemed to be disregarding that rule entirely, and he didn’t seem to care.

The two remained that way for a long time, nuzzling each other and soaking in each others’ scents. It was only when Logan loudly coughed that Virgil recoiled back. Even though he looked embarrassed, he didn’t feel that way.

Thomas stepped forward. “Roman?” His son turned to him, reddish-brown eyes shining with glee. When he nodded enthusiastically, the King smiled and turned his head towards the herald. “I believe you have an official announcement to make?”

“Might as well.” Logan says, rolling his eyes. “They’ve already completed the first step of the mating process.”

Roman flushed, but he looked back at Virgil who gave him a small smile. The prince responded with a larger one of his own, tangling Virgil’s thin, pale fingers in his own.

-,-,-,-,-

Virgil was walking back inside the palace when the memory flashed before his eyes. Seeing Roman walking across the Royal Halls made him stop and reflect.

Roman was always a handsome alpha in Virgil’s eyes, but today he seemed to be extra handsome in his mind. His hair looked a little curlier than it normally was (though not as curly as Patton’s is, mind you), the golden medals that decorated his black jacket shined in the lighting, he could even see some of his muscles being a little pronounced through his sleeves.

Everything about his husband was handsome. Roman was a very handsome alpha.

It wasn’t before long when the alpha finally took notice of his wife.

“Oh! Hello, my darling.” he smiles, turning to him. Virgil could see his reddish-brown eyes sparkling in the distance and his reading glasses were on his face. In was in that moment the Omega took note of the important documents that were in his husband’s hands. “Was there anything you needed?” he asked.

He shook his head, a soft and gentle smile appearing on his face.

It was in that moment when Roman thought Virgil was the most beautiful being in all of Alexandros.

His wife, standing there looking regal like the Queen that he was. His violet hair glowed in the sun’s lighting, the purple dress hugged his body perfectly, his jewelry also had a darkened shine to it, and his makeup looked as deadly as it did vexing.

Virgil was enchanting and all around gorgeous, so much so that it made Roman’s heart sing.

Then he sees Virgil holding his arms out to him, motioning for Roman to come closer. Roman beamed. This was Virgil’s signal that he wanted Roman to hold him, and Roman was going to be a good alpha husband and do just that.

Dropping all of the documents, sheets of white scattering about the floor of the palace, Roman quickly ran over to his wife. He wrapped his arms tightly around Virgil’s waist before picking him up and spinning his around in the air.

Virgil giggled as he snaked his arms around his husband’s neck as he was spun. Even after Roman was done, he still kept his husband in his arms. “If you didn’t need anything, was there something on your mind? You seemed to be lost in thought when I took notice of you standing here.”

At that, the Omega nodded. “I was just thinking about us, that’s all.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, his smile still on his face. “Oh? And what about us, my sweet omega?” He began to press kisses along his wife’s face, all the way down to the expose skin of his chest.

“Roman!!” Virgil squealed in laughter. He was worried about Logan coming and berating them for their ‘indecent public displays of affection,’ but everyone in the palace is used to this by now, so it shouldn’t cause them too much trouble. “It wasn’t anything bad!! I promise!!” He began kicking his legs in the air. “I was just thinking about when we first met!!”

When he heard that, Roman immediately stopped kissing Virgil and looked at him, love and happiness shining in his eyes. “You mean the day when I fell in love at first sight?”

The omega nodded, his own eyes shining. “Yeah…I remember how nervous I was when Patton and Logan presented me to you…I was so afraid that you wouldn’t like me.” (He also remembered how he practically embarrassed himself by kneeling in front of his future husband like an idiot.)

“But I didn’t,” Roman smiled warmly. “I loved you, and I still do to this very day.” He gently pecked Virgil on the lips. “You’re my everything, Virgil, and I’m so glad that they found you that day, otherwise I don’t think either one of us would be here right now.”

“I agree.” Even if he didn’t like thinking about it, Virgil had to wonder where he would be if Patton and Logan hadn’t found him on the streets that day. If he had to guess, he might still be on the streets, struggling everyday to survive in a world that was post-Omega slavery.

Who knows?…Maybe he would’ve been back in the arms of Dorian and his other two Omegas. he would be isolated, neglected, and abused once more.

But he wasn’t. He’s here; in Alexandros, with Roman and his family, with people who loved and cared for him more than those three have in Virgil’s entirety of being a slave.

“Aww, my love…why do you cry?” Virgil didn’t even realize he was until his husband brought it up. He quickly wiped his tears away, being careful not to smudge his makeup in the process.

“I’m just…really happy that I met you that day, Roman.”

Roman’s warm smile remained as he set his wife down to the floor, helping him wipe tears away from his silvery-purple eyes. “And I’m glad too.” He pressed a gentle kiss to Virgil’s bond mark before nuzzling it with his nose, inhaling his smoky scent.

Virgil bit his lip and let out a quiet whimper as he pulled Roman even closer to him, fingers knotting at his hair. The omega even remembered his husband scenting him in front of the former king and his advisers, which is something that they probably shouldn’t have done since they had just met and weren’t even married yet.

Suddenly, a voice surprised them, causing them to quickly separate.

“While I understand you love each other dearly, can you not display your indecent affections publicly like that?” Sure enough, like Virgil predicted, it was Logan.

The Royal Couple chuckled sheepishly before Roman (with assistance from Logan) collected all the important documents that he dropped. He gave the logical beta an appreciative smile.

“Now, if you two are done, you have a meeting you need to attend.”

Roman groaned inwardly, but he felt better when Virgil grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently before following Logan to council room.

-,-,-,-,-

“I, Roman, take thee, Virgil, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death us do part.”

Virgil did his breathing technique before he too repeated the words of the officiant. He stuttered through it, but not once did Roman, the officiant, or anyone in the church mock or tease him.

“I, Virgil…t-take thee, Roman, to be my husband…to h-have and to hold…f-from this day forward, for better for worse…f-for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health…to love and to cherish t-till death us do part.”

Roman smiled at him when he finished, silently telling him that he did good. After the vows, it was time for them to exchange rings. Both Patton and Logan stepped up and gave the couple their respective rings, then they repeated the officiant again.

“Virgil, I give you this ring, as a sign of our marriage, with my body I honor you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you.” He slid his ring onto Virgil’s finger, lifting his hand up and kissing it.

“Roman, I give you this ring, as a sign of our marriage…w-with my body I honor you…a-all that I am I give to you, a-and all that I have…I share with you.” Now he took his ring onto Roman’s finger.

Now comes a tradition that is only done with Alpha/Omega marriages: scenting. While Roman and Virgil have officially yet to mate, a scenting bond was another way of claiming someone.

Logan stepped forward and undid the clasp on Virgil’s collar as it was blocking his scent glands. He gave Roman a smirk, “Now is the appropriate time to do this.” he whispered before returning to his position beside Patton.

Roman rolled his eyes in response, but he still smirked at the logical adviser. He gently tilted Virgil’s head upward as he pressed his nose in the omega’s neck. He had to refrain himself from growling in a church. Virgil’s scent was how he remembered it from when the rendezvoused in the Royal Gardens.

Like Roman, Virgil had to stop himself from whimpering in submission. Roman still had that strong earthiness to him as he did when they first met.

Thomas, Patton, and Logan bit back smirks. They all know that these two scented much earlier than they should have. While it was optional for Roman to bite him, thus making an official mark, they knew the alpha was waiting for that.

Once the officiant was able to smell their combined scents, he finished the ceremony. “By the power vested in me, as an ordained minister of His Majesty’s court, I pronounce you Roman and Virgil, Prince and Princess of Alexandros.”

-,-,-,-,-

“Roman?”

“Yes, my beloved?”

“Do you— Do you remember our wedding day?”

A chuckle. “Now what kind of a question is that, Virgil?”

Virgil felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I-I know it’s dumb…I was just curious, that’s all…”

“You’ve been mighty curious about things lately.” Roman chuckled again, wrapping his arms around Virgil, pulling his back to his chest. “Not that that’s a bad thing, I just find it adorable.”

“J-Just answer the question, Roman!” He could feel Roman laugh against his neck, causing him to shiver a little.

“Of course I remember our wedding, darling.” The alpha said in a fond and loving tone. “How could I forget the day when I married the love of my life?”

The omega blushed more as he stared down at their reflections in the water. He and Roman decided to take a stroll in the Royal Gardens when they stopped on the bridge; the very bridge where Roman had proposed to Virgil shortly before their wedding. Which, again, they technically weren’t supposed to in case Roman, an Alpha mind you, was going to jump Virgil, an Omega, before their official bonding.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), that didn’t happen and they were able to enjoy their temporary rendezvous.

Roman hooked his chin on his wife’s shoulder, also looking at their reflections. Virgil could see the warmth displayed on his face as he felt him squeezing him gently. “You looked so beautiful, my love.” he whispered, “I couldn’t take my eyes off you…I felt so lucky to have you as my bride, and I can still call you my wife.”

Virgil smiled softly, gazing down at the golden wedding rings that shined due to the sun hitting them. He nodded and whispered back, “Yeah…and you looked very handsome in your uniform…I was so nervous that I couldn’t take my eyes off you…”

“You didn’t seem nervous to me,” Roman reassured. “You were so composed and elegant that no one could tell that you were anxious.”

“That’s good…” Virgil sighed in relief. He reclined his head back, allowing him to immerse himself in his husband’s strong and protective arms. The sound of the fountain along with the chirping of the various birds relaxed him even more.

“…Roman?”

“Hmm?”

He lazily moved his head and smiled, silvery-purple eyes showing tenderness. “I’m glad I get to call you my husband too.” The alpha smiled and kissed him, to which Virgil kissed him back. It was a few minutes of nuzzles and kissing before the omega asked another question, “Do you also remember how you proposed to me?”

“As if you had to ask.”

“Can you…Can you sign it for me?”

Virgil sees Roman smile and nod before looking down, feeling the alpha signing on his own hands. “I can say that I have never loved anyone as much as you.” Like when he proposed, his movements were slow and deliberate so he didn’t miss anything; despite the fact that Virgil hasn’t signed in almost a year. “You’re the most perfect and most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you…And I know you thought I meant that to claim my birthright as King, but I didn’t…I really wanted you to have my wife. And so, Queen Virgil of Alexandros…I was very honored to have you marry me.”

When he finished, Virgil turned around and planted a deep kiss to Roman’s lips, the happiest of smiles on his face.

He truly was lucky that he could call Roman his husband, and he, Roman’s wife.

-,-,-,-,-

Roman was waiting in their room for Virgil to come back from his appointment with Emile. When he heard the door open, he smiled at the sight of his wife, but that smile turned to a frown when he saw the omega's emotional state.

"Virgil? Oh, Virgil, my darling, it's alright." he gently coaxed his wife to sit on the stool by the vanity. "What's wrong, my love? You know you can talk to me." He then started to panic, "Did Emile say something bad? Oh Gods, you're not dying are you?! Please tell me you're not—"

The omega barked out a laugh that was mixed with a sob. He shook his head rapidly as he continued to cry. "N-No...n-not dying…"

While that made Roman feel better, it didn’t ease his nerves. “Then what is it?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s knuckles. “Please tell me.”

Virgil laughed again, this time it sounded happy, bright. He wiped the tears away from his eyes and looked up at his husband, silver eyes glistening. “I’m with child, Roman.”

Time froze around them as Roman stared at Virgil in shock and awe. He felt tears shining in his own eyes. He gently placed a hand on his wife’s stomach, the tears now falling down as he gave Virgil a watery smile. “Are you really?”

Again, the omega laughed and nodded excitedly, tears now falling freely.

He squeaked when he felt himself being lifted into Roman’s arms, wrapping his legs around his husband’s waist. He started giggling when he heard the alpha laughing joyously as he throws him down on the bed.

Roman wasted no time pressing happy yet gentle kisses to Virgil’s stomach, nuzzling occasionally.

Virgil’s giggles turned to purrs as he felt his husband sending love to their baby.

Their scents lingered in the air, pure happiness and joy radiated through their beings.

Roman stopped kissing Virgil’s stomach so he could place a passionate kiss to his lips. He kept a hand on Virgil’s stomach. “How far along are you?”

More giggles bubbled through the omega as he placed his hand atop Roman’s. “Not that far…” he tells him. “E-Emile said it’s too early to tell the gender…”

“That doesn’t matter to me.” Roman assured. “So long as our Prince or Princess is healthy, we will love them regardless if they are male, female, Alpha, Beta, or Omega.”

Virgil nodded and smiled. Roman and Thomas really changed the game when it comes to the traditions of the Royal Family and Alexandros. More tears came to Virgil’s eyes, Roman cooed.

“Oh, my love.” he wiped his tears away. “Please don’t cry.”

The omega shook his head, smiling much softer. “Just so happy…” he whispered. He wraps his arms around his husband’s neck. “C-Can’t describe how happy I am…”

Roman also wraps his arms around Virgil, squeezing him tightly and burying his face in his shoulder. “My beautiful Virgil…mi amor, mi reina, mi corazon…I couldn’t be happier than I am in this moment.”

“I’m pregnant Roman,” Virgil cries against Roman’s neck. “I’m pregnant.”

The alpha can feel his shoulder dampen but he doesn’t really care. “We’re having a baby.”

Neither one of them knew how long they stayed like that, holding onto each other, crying in sweet bliss. They were going to have to tell Thomas, Logan, and Patton eventually, but they wanted to have this moment between the two of them.

-,-,-,-,-

Another memory came to Virgil one night when Alejandra was being fussy.

Virgil’s ears perked up to the familiar sounds of whining coming from the crib in the far side of the bedroom. He groaned quietly, looking at the clock that was in another corner of the room. “Remind me why you’re the Alpha again, Roman?” he complained with a bit of snark.

Roman only let out a sleepy noise and buried himself further into the blankets. The omega didn’t mean to take his emotions out on his husband, but even after a year, he still feels like Alejandra is a little too old to be nursing from him.

Quietly, as to not disturb the alpha anymore, Virgil shuffled over to the crib to comfort his daughter a little before she would be fed.

The alpha woke up properly after a while, rubbing his eyes as he sat up on the bed. Once his eyes were filled with less sleep, he smiled at the sight of his wife and daughter. Virgil cradled their princess in his arms, whispering gentle words to her as she nursed from his chest.

“Mmm…mmm…” Virgil murmured as the sound and feelings of Alejandra nursing from him started to lull him into tired contentment. Roman could see the omega closing his eyes, trying to retreat into his more maternal instincts. “Good girl…such a pretty girl…”

“I think Mama’s pretty too.” Roman says quietly and with a smile as he shuffled next to his wife. He leaned in to plant kisses to the back of his daughter’s head, watching his family tiredly but happily.

Both of them could’ve slept standing up like that, but Virgil was brought back to attention by Alejandra detaching herself from his chest. When she refused to nurse anymore, the omega draped a cloth over his shoulder as he patted her back, eventually get a small burp and a couple hiccups out of her. Then looked at his husband. “Honey? Want to help me change her?” he asked.

Roman nodded and they placed Alejandra on the bed. As they did, the alpha couldn’t help but plant a quick kiss to his lips before they continued to change their daughter. Virgil giggled and cooed comforting words to Alejandra as Roman put a new cloth diaper on her.

Take it from them, it wasn’t easy caring for an Alpha toddler at times.

Once they were done and the young princess was sleeping again, they moved back onto the bed, Alejandra nestled between them. Roman pressed a kiss to her soft hair before kissing Virgil’s forehead. “I love you, mi reina.”

“And I love you, mi rey.” Virgil whispered and gazed down at their sleeping daughter. He was silent for a moment before asking, “Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant with her?”

“How could I forget?” Roman said with a nostalgic smile. “I kissed and rubbed your belly for what seemed like hours.”

“It was hours, Ro.” the omega smirked a little. He cuddled Alejandra closer to his chest, his nose in her downy hair so he could sniff at her scent which was a proud mix of theirs. “I was so happy when Emile told me, it felt like everything was alright in the world. All my fears about being an awful Queen disappeared when she was born. She’s the most precious thing to come to our lives.”

“Yes, she is.” Roman responded. “That day will forever be one of the happiest days of my life.”

“Mine too.” The omega gave his husband a quick peck on the lips. “I love you, Roman.”

“And I you, Virgil.”

The tender moment was fueled even more when Alejandra let out a noise that was akin to a purr. Virgil felt tears stinging his eyes as he pets her chest, receiving more purrs. “And we love you, our sweet princess…even if you do exhaust us sometimes.” he chuckled wetly.

Roman chuckled as well, pressing one more kiss to them both. “Let’s go back to sleep, my dear.” He carefully pulled the cover back over their bodies when Virgil nodded. “Goodnight, Virgil.”

“Goodnight, honey.”

-,-,-,-,-

Roman was still pacing his office when Logan came in. The alpha noticed he had a little blood on his hands and he hoped that it was the baby’s and not Virgil’s.

When the logical beta smiled at him, he knew what he was about to say.

“My sincerest congratulations, Roman.” he tells him. “The delivery went smoothly and the baby is perfectly healthy. Has a scream as loud as you do.” He lets out a chuckle. “Now I would advise you to try and contain yourself when you—”

Roman pushed past him and immediately ran to the medical wing. When he walks in, he freezes on the spot, staring at his wife in complete awe. Virgil still looked exhausted but whole, with a very small bundle in his arms.

His was pressing gentle kisses to the baby’s downy hair. He only stopped when he smelt the familiar scent of his husband. He looked over at him with tired but happy eyes. “Come meet our princess, honey.”

The omega pulls back the blankets covering her head a little more, and Roman feels the breath knocked out of him at the sight of his daughter.

She looked sweet and perfect and small.

He shuffles over to the bed and carefully sits beside Virgil. He takes a finger and traced her hair and finds his throat stuck. “She’s so perfect,” He says, wrapping an arm around the omega. He pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You’re so incredible. I’m fiercely proud of you, Virgil.”

“Thanks for the compliments, dear.” Virgil teases, then he shudders. Roman pulls the blankets up around his shoulders some more. “You want to hold her? I think she should see her Papa.”

Gently, the omega transferred the baby to his husband. Roman felt like his heart was about to burst out of chest from looking at her. He smiled and pressed a kiss to her button nose. “Hello, sweetling. Hello, my darling love. Mi princesa bebé. Welcome to the world.”

“She’ll be the future ruler of our land.” Virgil says, resting his weary head on his husband’s shoulders. He was silent for a few moments for he finally blurted, “She’s an Alpha.”

Roman looked down at his wife. “How do you know?”

“It’s her scent.” Virgil tells him. “It smells just like yours with a touch of floral notes like mine does.” He looked at Roman nervously, small hints of fear coming from his scent. “Is…is that alright?”

The alpha smiled and gently kissed Virgil. “As I told you before she was born, we would love her regardless of what her genders were.” He then turned to look at the baby, a gentleness in his eyes. “She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

“Aww, Ro. Don’t cry.” Virgil lifts a hand to wipe the tears from Roman’s eyes.

“I’m just so happy, Virgil. So incredibly happy.” The baby stirs in his arms and he holds her closer to himself. “Shh…we’ve waited so long to meet you, princess. So long. Soy tu Papa y el es tu Mama.” he smiles, nodding his head towards his wife. “We love you very much.”

Virgil chuckles. “She’s gonna be so spoiled.”

“A princess like her deserves it.” Roman grins, making Virgil laugh. “What shall we name her?” The omega looked at the baby and said, “Spanish. I want her name to be Spanish.”

Roman looked surprised. “Are you sure?”

Virgil nodded. “I thought about it and,” he turned his head to look his husband in the eyes, “She looks just like you, so she should have the honor of having a name in your language.”

More tears came to Roman’s eyes at Virgil’s statement as he kissed his wife passionately. “Thank you, my love.” He whispered and rested his forehead against the omega’s. “And…I actually have a name picked out.”

Noticing the nervous look in the alpha’s eyes, Virgil gently nudged him in an encouraging manner. “You can tell me.”

After looking at the little baby in his arms, Roman tearfully told him who he wanted their daughter to be named after. “Alejandra…in honor of my Papa.”

Virgil smiled as the name rolled off Roman’s tongue. He placed a gentle kiss to Roman’s jaw before placing one on Alejandra’s forehead. “Princess Alejandra.”

“Princess Alejandra Valentina.”

“Valentina?”

Roman nods. “After my Mama Valerie.” he clarifies. “Well, it’s a variation of Mama’s name. If we’re naming her after Papa, we might as well continue with the trend. Plus, Valentine, Valentina? Something that could also be attributed to our love.”

“Princess Alejandra Valentina.” he smiled before snuggling closer to his new family. “It’s perfect, Roman.” He looked up and his smile grew softer when he heard Roman sniffle. “Why all the tears, honey?”

“I never thought…I never ever thought I’d be holding my very own baby girl in my arms. I just didn’t think it would ever happen to me.” He cuddles even closer to Virgil, sniffing at his scent. “I’m going to give you both the world, you know that right?” He presses a kiss against Alejandra’s forehead, then on Virgil’s temple. “Mi dulce Alejandra y mi hermoso Virgil. I love you both so much.”

The smile never leaves the omega’s face. “We love you too, Roman.”

-,-,-,-,-

Watching Alejandra playing with Oliver, them being watched by Patton and Logan, in the grass below made Virgil reflect on everything one last time.

He must’ve been a little too lost in thought because he didn’t hear Roman walk towards him; he also looks down at his princess playing with her new friend. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

Virgil nodded, not exactly paying attention to his husband’s words.

Roman turned to him, now seeing the unreadable expression in the omega’s eyes. “Virgil? Now what’s occupying your thoughts, my love?”

It was a long period of silence before Virgil spoke. “Do you…Remember when…” He didn’t exactly know how to start this without having some form of repetition. “…you told me, when Alejandra was born, that you never thought you’d hold your baby daughter in your arms? That you didn’t think it would ever happen to you?”

The alpha looked at his wife, albeit in a slightly confused way. “Pray forgive me, my dear. But I don’t exactly understand where you’re coming from with this.”

Again, Virgil was silent for a long time. “I knew how you felt about our love, and I understand…but, did you ever think about it from my perspective?”

Despite his confusion, Roman couldn’t help but have a cold feeling in his chest. “Virgil…?”

Virgil sees the underlying nervousness in the alpha’s eyes, and even in his scent, before quickly reassuring him. “Oh. N-No, no! I-I’m not thinking that Roman, honestly!” Now he felt guilty for making Roman feel like he wasn’t happy after one year; it was the opposite actually.

When he felt himself being pulled in his husband’s arms, inhaling his calm scent as opposed to his anxious one, he began to calm down.

“It’s just…I didn’t think it would ever happen to me too.” he admits openly, and honestly. “I never thought I would never escape Dorian and the Others, never thought I would find someone who loves me and people who accept me, never thought I would have my own child. I never…I never…” Virgil felt tears building in his eyes. “I never thought I would find true happiness.”

“Aww, mi hermoso Virgil,” Roman cooed, wrapping his arms around the omega, comforting and safe. “Please don’t cry. While you may remember those words, I remember something else I said: I said that I would give you and Alejandra the world. I would make sure that I never saw a frown on your faces, or tears running down your eyes because of me.” He wipes Virgil’s tears away. “And I meant every single word of it. I want you to be happy, Virgil. I want you to finally have what you’ve always longed for, and not just as an Omega, but as a human being.”

Even Roman wiped his tears away, Virgil could feel more running down his face. “I know,” he whispers, not really trusting his voice (which was slowly becoming emotional). “And you have, Roman. You’ve given me everything I’ve ever desired; you gave me the freedom and love I deserved.”

“And you’ve done the same for me.” The alpha said, smiling happily. “You given me the things I never dreamed of having: a gorgeous wife, a beautiful daughter, a prospering kingdom. All of it came true for me because of you, and I couldn’t be more grateful, Virgil. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Roman.”

They stayed together like that, kissing and holding each other tightly until they heard joyful and excited shrieks down below. They casted their gazes down and saw Patton playing a little game with the children; Alejandra was the one squealing, while Oliver let out gurgled laughters. Logan would look up occasionally from the book he was reading, a small smile creeping on his face.

Had they been a part of the conversation, no doubt they would express the same thoughts and feelings.

Curiosity began to peak in Roman’s mind as he stealthily began to slip Virgil’s jewelry off his body. “Have you ever thought about us having another child? I know you took birth control the last time you were on your heat, but I was just wondering.”

“We talked about it before my heat came, and we weren’t necessarily ready for it just yet.” Virgil recalls. He didn’t even feel Roman expertly undone the strings of his dress before finally feeling a hand slowly trail up his leg, hiking his dress up in the process. “Roman.” he warns.

Roman blinked at him innocently. “What?” he smiles. “Look at how adorable Ale looks with Oliver. She’d be a wonderful big sister. Besides, if I recall, Emile said your heat was coming soon.”

“That doesn’t mean we can start it early!”

“Are you sure about that, lovely?” The alpha smirked. “You seem to be having the same thoughts I am.” He began to press kisses along Virgil’s jawline, down to his neck.

Virgil let out choked whimpers. “Roman…”

“Yes, mi reina?” His smirk remains as he lead his wife to their bed.

“I-I…” he gulped as he was gently placed onto the soft bedding. “I guess we can get an early start…”

“That’s it, mi querido.” Roman praised gently, loving how Virgil whimpered more at that, seeing him start to grip the sheets in his fingers. “Now you relax, my sweet wife. Let your Alpha take care of you early.”

As Virgil felt his husband slip his dress off, he truly felt as though he were lucky.

He didn’t imagine this being his life almost two years ago. If anything, had you told Virgil what would become of his life, he wouldn’t have believed you.

But here he was; having a strong support system that cared for his wellbeing, a community that didn’t disrespect him because of his secondary gender or his former years in slavery, and a loving husband who was taking care of him like the queen he was.

Threading his fingers in Roman’s locks, Virgil couldn’t help but pull him in for a kiss, whining at how fiery and passionate it was slowly becoming. The alpha then broke it so he could press hot kisses down Virgil’s body, their scents mingling together as a faint smile came to his lips.

It amazed him how just one year can bring about so many changes…and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides AU #A Royal Bond AU #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Prinxiety #mpreg tw

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