#this song gives strong flashbacks from when i was a child

[hoseoksluna]

SOJU | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. hobi)

genre: heavy angst, heavy smut

word count: 10.4k

summary: jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

playlist: soju / pinterest board: wine

warnings: sex flashbacks, alcohol consumption, jungkook is drunk emotional and a mess, jealousy, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), almost heavy dd/lg themes, plushie used during intercourse, inner child healing, use of a sex toy, oral sex (f. receiving), ass play and nipple play, provocation, dirty talk, hair pulling, dry humping, rough sex, overstimulation, pain felt during intercourse, jungkook instructs reader like the teacher he is, pet names and one particular title used, squirting, praise kink, jungkook is mean and cruel and just so horny

note: i will never forget this fic. never. this is the third part of 'wine' and therefore the very end to this adventitious series. even though, this part has a little bit information and quirks in it from the other two fics, it's fine to read as a standalone, but i do recommend reading all three parts as they interlink and you can beautifully see the process and the change of their relationship. i want to thank the lovely soul who asked me to make this a series because writing this made me incredibly happy—and all the themes i used mean the world to me. i also want to thank all of you for reading and for all the love. i hope you like this as much as i do. please, heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that not everyone can be comfortable with. with that being said, enjoy your reading and let me know what you think, let me know your favorite parts. ᡣ𐭩

side note: drunk 3D jungkook being all mean, dominant and daddy is, quite literally, the epitome of my sexuality.

Jungkook will always be a man of his word.

It’s the foundation that keeps his back straight as he leads you through the crowd. The core of the whole promise is the very strength of his fingers as they clasp around your much smaller hand because he notices, under the washed out lights of red and violet, that you’re the center of attention.

He feels as though he’s dragging the hand of a child like a protective father. Except, he has the impulsive need to cover you with his body.

It’s a blasting alarm within the ear splitting chaos of his mind. Louder than the modern music he cares little for; louder than the song of the hard, quickening beats of his heart that he’s unable to ignore. He promised he’d make it up to you about the party because he’d made you drunk with lust. Now that he’s taken you here, he’d much rather be back home with you. Wouldn’t even have the need to seduce you—he just doesn’t want to be here. Doesn’t want you to be the apple of everyone’s eye.

Sweat glistens on the planes of his forehead.

Jungkook returns every inquisitive look of people he doesn’t know with a stern furrow of his brows. Figures he needs a drink; figures he needs his hyung, at least one familiar face among strangers.

A strong one, to calm the storm within, and a big hug from the host himself.

He hates people.

Leading you to the makeshift bar of spirits in the kitchen, he has a protective hand over the small of your back as you climb on the bar stool. Watches as your ass lifts over the leather and almost jumps out of his own skin when the outsole of your high-heeled shoe slips on the footrest and you fall back onto the chair with a thud. A precious set of treble giggles billow out of your mouth, followed by a reassuring flick of your hand that you’re okay, and Jungkook’s own hand trembles when he lifts it off your back. While you open your purse to reapply your lip gloss, he hides behind his tight, feigned smile the need to run and calm his breathing.

His irises wander over the contents of that purse of yours. Finds a long brown pencil there, your phone, a pack of cigarettes with a purple lighter and a ring of keys adorned with the tiniest Hello Kitty he’s ever seen. No wallet, no cash tucked beneath. A smirk tugs the corner of his mouth, hand acting out of its own will—coming over to your long hair, smoothing it down as you focus on lining your lips with another set of glitter and pinkness. Perhaps the gesture is owed to the proudness he feels due to the fact you’re expecting to be provided for throughout the night, wherever it takes you both after this party. Blurred within is the smugness that he’s the reason you’re dolling yourself up again because he couldn’t help but make a mess of your mouth in the car. It makes his cock grow tight in his pants.

He wears the smugness all over his features. From the gleaming cosmos in his eyes, to the smudged kiss stains of all the roses in the world scattering over his nose and cheeks, down to the deepening smirk. He thinks he’d buy you anything your eyes would linger a heartbeat longer on, with snacks included in case you’d get hungry, as he silently praises you for your good behavior, for that smart brain of yours by the brush of his hand down your hair. A sick part of him wants to even get in debt for you for the pure fun of it—the fun being the primal core of your wishes and needs being gratified, for your satisfaction to shine through the veins on your skin like little sun rays, all while having the time of your life on the night out he promised you.

He’s not afraid to admit he’d do anything for you as long as it stays safely stashed within his system. Can’t risk voicing it out. Can’t risk you knowing. Can’t risk shit.

Studying the shape of your lips as you hold up a small heart-shaped mirror, he twirls the ends of your hair as he waits for you to be done to ask you what you want to drink. Is reminded of the way those pillows wrapped around the straw of the banana milk you brought for him the last time he saw you. Of the way they sucked his fingers when he used them for lubrication to rub your clit while he was fully buried inside your tight, dew-sprinkled cunt. He suddenly feels hot under his collar.

He’s a slave to flashbacks. Always has been.

The celestial concoction of your needy moans and his, kept safe within the confines of his car, loop in his brain. The look of agonized lust when he bit your bottom lip in a heated kiss that he soon alleviated with the swipe of his tongue, with the suction of his lips that begged him to take more of you. Jungkook hears it as if there wasn’t any music at all, as if its thrumming wasn’t enveloping the corridors of his panic-stricken heart. He hears your words, embellished by those giggles of yours, in his ears all over again: “Stop, you’re making me horny. We should go inside.” His own, too: “You dance better for me when your panties are wet. I know you do.” Sees again, as if the moment is happening again and you’re standing in front of him, the way you reacted to his hands warming up your sides in the cold after you stumbled out of his car. Sighing softly, glossy eyes whirling upwards to the drowsy sky full of quivering stars, tipsy on the desire he’s obsessed with awakening in you while being tipsy just the same. The smile rising on your lips when he asked: “Show me how you’re gonna dance for me.” The way you moved your hips in such a silly way that squeezed his heart until it was difficult to breathe.

He’s fucked. Knows he is. Has known it for a while now.

You’re the origin of the chaos within his mind. The body of it itself. He has a teeny-tiny version of you in his mind that lives there, and lives there well because he feeds her, brushes her hair and gives her kisses, despite the storm.

He could never tell you—how much he thinks about you daily.

To a certain extent, he almost did the last time you came around, in a frenzy of sensuality and pent-up desire that consumed him. Prayed you didn’t see it for the way it really was.

It’s not just lust, and it’s more than just a friendship.

He figured as much—doesn’t have any fucking idea what to do with it. 

Not a single one. Especially not when you pucker your lips at him and screw the applicator back into the tube. 

He doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t ever want to lose the sight of that pucker of yours. And he fears that if he tells you of his weakness for you, he might never see it again.

So, he opts to keep things safe, keep things casual. That is until he eventually bursts.

That’s another promise, too. 

He pulls on one of your strands. Your head knocks back, eyes wide at the audacity of it all. He laughs at your reaction.

“Can you stop?”

Jungkook does it again just to see the shock written over your face, full on belly laughing.

“What the fuck?” You slap his shoulder, the impact so small he barely feels it. “You want me to pull your hair, too?”

He grabs his stomach. “No, what I want to know is what you wanna drink.”

You purse your lips in feigned anger, fingers outstretched by the back of his head to play-pull his hair or perhaps slap him into oblivion. If you could manage it. 

He doesn’t think you could. 

He goes around you to sit beside you on the bar stool, studying the bottles of liquor his hyung bought. Is ignorant to the way you’re studying him, to the way the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly at the discovery of the current situation in his intimate parts. 

Pulls out one to acknowledge himself with it. Asks you if you wanna drink it. 

You don’t say anything. 

When Jungkook lifts his eyes to scold you for not paying attention, all the words get hitched in his throat. You’re grinning from ear to ear. All those damned words are forgotten immediately. 

“Are you hard?” you whisper, flushed at the face, glossy eyes glimmering, ever so excited about your discovery. 

He feels himself twitch. Hides it by cupping himself discreetly. 

Averts his eyes. “I’m always hard around you,” he mutters, twisting the bottle open. “I’ve gotten used to it.” 

He doesn’t look at you when he pours you a shot, but he focuses on the way your breathing gains speed. Fights the smile threatening his lips caused by how easy it is to provoke you. 

“You wanna get out of here?”

You’re hasty as you ask, looking around you, inspecting which room you could use to drag him into and relieve him of his problem, but he assures you it’s no problem at all with a curt shake of his head. 

Strangely, he found a way to like the tension in his pants. Thinks it digs deep into the depth of the moment—simply makes it more exciting. 

“We just got here,” Jungkook says flatly, screwing the lid back on. “Don’t be rude.” 

He filled your shot to the brim not necessarily with the intention to make you drunk as fast as he can, but to watch your eyes widen the way they do so sweetly. And you don’t disappoint him at all when you do just that, the smile on your lips blossoming still. An aura of shyness envelops you in softness due to his disapproving words and Jungkook realizes he grazed your submission by reprimanding you. While it magnifies his smugness, he feels a little bit bad for you. Knows how much it turns you on when his fatherliness looms out, but blames you for it nonetheless. You rouse it in him.

You may have never told him about your father wounds, but his instincts sensed it in you—sought it out like its own child and cradled it in his arms, promising to never let go.

Promise. There it is again.

He wants to spend the rest of his life promising you things. Doesn’t matter what. He just wants the security, the cord of trust, that you’ll be here; that you’ll be here for a long time. It truly doesn’t matter if he promises you things internally or outwardly.

Jungkook cups your chin. Wants to say something. Wants to reassure you that you can take the shot, encourage you a tiny bit. But what you say to him dries up his throat completely.

“You don’t want a blowie?”

Your words were a mere silky noise, but he heard you. Curled his fingers tight into fists in order not to bend you over the bar stool and take you right then and there in front of everyone.

Decides he will provoke you right back.

“You don’t want a lickie?” he murmurs, drawing close to you so you’re the only one who hears him. “You don’t want Daddy’s tongue on your little clit?”

You gasp and grip his knee, your legs intuitively spreading.

Jungkook skims his surroundings to see if anyone’s watching. When the coast is clear—people mindlessly mingling, having conversations—he hovers his lips against your ear, hand coming in between your legs, not to touch you but to cover you. Whispers, “or you don’t want Daddy’s tongue fucking you fast? Licking over your little ass? Hm, you don’t know how good that feels yet, do you?”

You’re holding in a sob—Jungkook sees it in the way your eyes and lips round, brows furrowing. He made you wet. Serves you right.

He pulls away to pour you a chaser. Asks which one you want.

You take a deep breath, flicking your hair back. “Coca cola,” you chirp, despite the deathly grip you have on his knee, perhaps to hold your sanity together, other fingers wrapping around the shot. Small, so fitting for an equally small glass.

Jungkook laughs. Loves it. Loves…

The realization, of what he almost granted access to within his system, strangles his heart. He hears nothing for a moment, not the music, not the tremor of his weak heart. Nothing.

A can of Coke waits for you behind the bar on the kitchen counter and before any thought flicks through his brain, Jungkook stands to his feet to fetch it for you—to get his blood pumping again so he can gain control of his senses. It scares him, the nothingness. Even his eyes fail to focus as he looks for the metallic red can he swore he saw hardly a minute ago. He feels a slap on his back and a familiar face, at last, comes into view. 

Hobi. 

The first thought that resurfaces is filled with thankfulness enveloping around that name, dispersed with tiny kisses of ‘you saved me, hyung’. Jungkook dives head-first into the offering hug of his savior, his senses returning to him like magnets attaching to metal. He takes in a deep breath as if he was under water and just came up for air. 

“So glad to see you,” Hobi says, rubbing his back. 

Jungkook squeezes his shoulder. Says something that doesn’t reflect what he truly wants to say, keeps up the small talk while burying under layers upon layers of mud the confession that he almost told himself he loved you. 

Which reminds him that he didn’t introduce you.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jungkook says, grabbing the can of Coke his eyesight is now clear enough to spot and an empty, tall glass for you. Guides his friend to where you’re sitting but what he sees almost makes him jump out of his own skin for the second time in the span of an hour—almost sobs tearfully at the unfortunate discovery. 

A mop of dirty blonde curls shaking at the impact of his laughter as he whispers sweet nothing into the shell of your ear. He towers from behind you, compressing you in the muscly width of his half-barren chest. An electricity of anguish spasms down the course of Jungkook’s body, for in a flash he’s reminded of the way you towered above him just the same the last time. His sweat cools as you listen to him, a pang after pang of jealousy stinging him in his abdomen. He’s frozen on the spot—Hobi says something, but Jungkook can’t hear him—that is until you make a face of discomfort.

Jungkook sees red. 

His heart slams hard against his chest, but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t feel its intention to break his ribcage. 

The words unfurl out of his tight mouth before he can think them through. “Can I fucking help you?” he hisses through his teeth, setting the glass and the can down harshly. The noise makes you jump, which instantly drives him to regret his actions—and it puts an end to his rage.

He didn’t mean to scare you. Doesn’t want you to regard him this way. 

The sudden softness welcomes his senses back with a gentle beckoning.

Lifting his eyes, the guy ignores the question. Whispers something again that forces you to pierce your stare into the fire that burns within Jungkook’s irises. Not the fire he let you see throughout the trajectory of your casual relationship, the blue, the dreamily sultry one. 

The one that licks over his eyes is black. Pitch black. No sign of stars, no dots of reflection of light. Pure pitch black.

But you hold his gaze, unafraid of the darkness.

For a reason unknown to him, it ignites you with strength to shove raggedy Barbie Ken away. Your touch lingers on his chest for a mere second and is not as scorching as the bite of your words: “Yes, I’m here with him and I’m not interested in you. Go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t look at the guy. Doesn’t give two shits about the painful twists of his features as he staggers away. Forgets about Hobi; forgets about the questioning looks of strangers digging into his back. All he sees is you. All he hears is the sigh of relief once he’s gone. And Jungkook is hasty as he reaches for you, relieved himself—relieved that he didn’t have to fight the fucker and alter the trust you have in him—needing you close, needing to gain back his control. He’s almost smiling uncomfortably at the ridiculous twist of events, but then the tug of his mouth stills.

You slip out of his grasp and move past him.

There’s silence within Jungkook’s ribcage. Not one beat or flutter, not one kick.

Nothing.

***

Knocking back shots after shots, Jungkook remains silent. Doesn’t answer any of his hyung’s questions. Doesn’t look at any of the girls who sashay to Hobi’s thigh to chitchat. His gaze merely remains fixed on the empty glass of the chaser he never had the chance to pour you. 

Your shot of the dark liquor is also left untouched. 

It’s the twinge of pity he feels that gives the order to his feet to rise. Hobi grabs his arm, long fingers digging into the hard leather of his jacket. Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate his stare, despite its heavy energy. Keeps his head low instead. 

“Give her more time,” Hobi says, lugging him down to a seated position but Jungkook untangles out of his grip. 

Grabs a bottle of soju as he mutters, “half an hour is more than enough.” 

He makes a way through the corridor towards the door you slinked into, the translucent bottle swinging by his jean-clothed thigh. Doesn’t knock on the wood, instead walks straight in as if he owned the place.

You’re sitting by the foot of the bed. The yellowness of the subdued bedside lamp drapes your sagged shoulders in gold, filtering through your hair that obscures your face. You had taken off your shoes and they lie crooked and alone by your stocking-clad feet. Jungkook wonders if that’s how you feel. 

His weakness caused by the unfortunate events and the sadness engulfing you stops him from moving a step closer to you as he beholds your puny form, but Jungkook fights it—fights for you. He needs to be in control. Of his own body and emotions, no matter how strenuous he finds it. He needs to be strong—and he needs to be strong for you to make things right.

He clicks the door shut behind him. As he walks towards you, he opens the bottle of soju with the firmness of his phone and takes a long sip. Settles in between your legs on the ground, crossing his legs at the ankles. Probs you on the calf to make his presence known to you, cooing your name. 

You sniff your nose, gathering your hair to the side, curling the shorter pieces behind your ear. Your face glistens from the rivers of tears he wasn’t there to wipe away, cheeks flushed from all the onrush of emotions that wasn’t of the coy or sensuous kind he likes so much. The hard stone of his heart cracks at your broken countenance and the back and forth swipe of his fingers on the nylon of your stocking grows more tender the more he takes in your sadness. He wishes to inhale it, rid you of it once and for all. Thinks it doesn’t belong to you. Wants to fight the guy, make you laugh—make a fool out of himself—and make love to you. Wants all of those things at the same time, but he realizes he can’t tear himself apart.

He decides being here is enough. He can fix whatever has been broken here in Hobi’s room. 

“This is so fucked up, Jungkook.” 

You’re the first one to break the silence and it takes a slight weight off of his shoulders. Jungkook hums, prompts you to speak further on what hurts your heart. Wraps his entire hand around the muscle of your calf, thumb tracing figures of eight on your skin. 

The warmth helps you look him in the eye, but you don’t say anything else. 

Jungkook figures it’s his turn.

“I wouldn’t let him touch you,” he says softly, hand drifting down to cradle the heel of your lifted foot. You’re mine, he doesn’t add. 

Your mouth rounds once again in a wave of emotion that clutches you. You don’t let the tears fall, looking up to the ceiling so the little pearls don’t trickle out of your tear ducts. Jungkook notices puffy marks of darkness under your bottom lashes, where he swore he saw thin pathways of glitter, small shooting stars traveling around the globe of your eyes. They’re nowhere to be found now, you’ve rubbed them away. 

“I know, it’s not about that.” You sniff, hands hooking under the hem of your skirt just to have something to hold onto, to busy your fingers a little—as if he wasn’t right there. “I think I kinda get you know.” 

Jungkook makes a sound that asks you to enlighten him, taking a swig of the sweet liquor to aid him in forgetting what he didn’t say. But the more he drinks, the more he remembers—the more his feelings splutter to life. It’s like he didn’t drink a drop at all. 

“I never understood why you need to be in control all the time,” you start, fixing your gaze on his. “But I finally did when that guy had his arms around me and wouldn’t let go. I wished I had even a small bit of control in that moment when I was alone. I hated feeling like I had to endure it when all I wanted to do was run away.” You break apart at your last words and Jungkook’s world crumbles in his hands. 

There’s chaos in his mind. A chaos of selfish nature that wants to prove you wrong because no, he doesn’t have any control when it comes to you, when you’re dressed, perfect and broken altogether. He doesn’t have shit—he’s nothing. A complete mess. And perhaps it’s his bruised heart that acts out despite this self-pitying mayhem grappling him, shutting it out into eternal darkness, for Jungkook doesn’t even know how he does it when he pulls you down onto his lap by a careful drag of your legs and encases you within the heated snugness of his arms.

He doesn’t even understand his own words when he says, “You can take all of mine. It’s yours.”

Jungkook doesn’t care about anything at all because when you start to sob into his shoulders, he breaks along with you—bursts at the seams completely. 

“I know you were scared, but that won’t happen again. Not when I give you all of my control.” His words are smooth amidst the stream of his liquid emotions and Jungkook is glad for it—glad to be a pillar you can lean on. He imagines transferring all of his being, not just his control, to you like a blanket draping around your shoulders, so the situation never happens again. 

His tears soak your hair strands and they carry his sorrowful kiss to the crook of your neck. He doesn’t want to utter a sound, wants to remain strong, but his heavy exhales betray him, wafting against you as he tightens his grip around your violently shuddering body in effort to soothe it. Considers this moment to be yours alone, doesn’t want to be selfish. Wants to be there for you.

“You helped me when I saw you,” you say against his skin, the sound muffled but he hears you—tightens his lips in a firm line in order not to wail. “When I saw that you were there, I was strong enough to push him away. You were my backup, Jungkook.” 

He agrees with a soft sound, rocking you back and forth as he cradles you. Leans his head against the side of yours, shielding you from the world and its wickedness. 

Your cries quieten. “But I want to be strong even when you’re not there.” 

Jungkook strokes your hair, understands you even when it pains him—his attachment to you pulled so taut he fears it’ll break. “You’re strong now. I gave you my control, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, you nod. 

After you pull away to breathe and Jungkook sweeps your tears away with his thumb, he’s smothered with the reminder that he made a promise to himself—a promise that is on the brink of being fulfilled. 

The walls close in on him, but he doesn’t care. He promised to keep things casual until he bursts. He refuses to go another day pretending you’re just a friend he feels nothing for. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heavily charged emotions that make the decision for him, but he simply doesn’t care about the outcome anymore. The truth has to come out into the light. 

Jungkook calls you by your name. Brushes your hair back so he can look properly in the faded lush of your eyes; cradles your face in his hands like that. You call him by his name as well, whispering it into the shadows of the room. Such a soft, silky sound that puts pink plasters over the cracks in his heart. He says your name in the same intonation just to get a taste of liberty. 

“I’m yours,” he confesses, a lump forming in his throat, and he’s too late to blink the tears away. “I’ve been yours since the day I met you; since the moment you laid your hands on me. Yours for the taking. My heart, my control—it’s all yours.”

The bridge constricting his throat collapses when you give him a look of endearment, your features softening, rounding in emotion. Jungkook watches as a tear rolls down your cheek; feels an identical one going down the same path on his own skin, fiery and hot. 

“I’m sorry.” He breaks into sobs—and break, break, break is all he does. “I’m sorry if you wanted to stay casual, but I can’t… and-and I can’t let you go. I can’t let anyone else have you.” 

You bunch the material of his wife-beater in your fists under his jacket, mewling tender weeping sounds. Jungkook bites his lip to prevent himself from spilling in your hands, needing you to say something, anything, so he can straighten his back and call it a night. You bury your head in his chest  and Jungkook lulls you to calmness while needing it himself. He suddenly feels alone. Alone and crooked like your shoes, as if he said the wrong thing, as if he didn’t deserve any reassurement, any love for what he just did—

You mumble something into his skin. 

His heart jumps. 

“I didn’t catch that, baby.” 

You lift your head, clutching the sides of his neck. “I like you, too, Jungkook.” 

Your words tell him a lot of things. 

He didn’t make a mistake tonight. He didn’t do anything bad, didn’t lose you for the rest of his life. He will see that pucker of yours for the months to come, your glitter and all your shooting stars will be there to guide him home. 

And the other thing is—he fell for you first. Because while you like him, he absolutely and irrevocably loves all of who you are. 

He smiles at you, though. The bridge takes the heft on his shoulders along with it and disperses into nothingness. He wants to thank you. He wants to thank you for the kindness you expressed towards him, for your hands that hold him. And he does by kissing you, by inhaling you, taking away all your sadness and the bad events that caused it. 

“You mean a lot to me,” you say against his lips, pretty wet eyelashes fluttering. Jungkook feels their dewiness; wants to feel yours, too. There’s a pout to his mouth as he listens to you. “You changed my life. You make it better.” He nods at your words, senses them opening a window in his heart to let the fresh air in. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Gguk. You’re too important.” 

He almost says it. Those three words. But he keeps them stored within the now brisk chamber of his heart, full of spring. Flowers grow, in place of the plasters. 

Jungkook caresses your cheek. “I want to make you forget.” 

You beam at him—and there he feels it, the pulse of his heart, its song and its steady, balmy notes. 

“Make me forget about tonight, please.” 

He kisses you, adds in a million tiny pecks in between, sliding his tongue inside your mouth in brief greeting. His fingers blindly find the bottle of Soju and when he withdraws with a pop, he presents it to you. 

“Look at what I got you,” Jungkook says, chuckling. 

You wrap your hand around his on the bottle and he tips it to your mouth, helping you drink it. You widen your eyes at him when he wants you to drink more than you do, and he lowers his hand with a grin. Loves those eyes of yours. Loves your mouth as he wipes it clean with his thumb. 

It’s lighthearted, the state of his emotions. He had tasted liberty by fondly mimicking your intonation, but now it courses through his veins, now it’s his. He feels so very glad to be alive at this moment and he wants to celebrate in the only way he knows he can. 

“I got you another thing as well, but it’s back home,” Jungkook says. “I can’t drive but we can take an Uber.” 

“Let’s go.” 

Jungkook straps your heels, fixes your skirt and swipes his thumbs under your eyes to rid you of black mascara stains. Offering you his hand, you take his pinky and ring finger and he leads you out of the room with you following behind. He skims the living room to find Hobi but, again, he’s nowhere in sight until you tap his shoulder and point to the right side of the corridor. Hobi is rising to his feet from sitting on the stairs. The thought of his hyung staying around for him instead of enjoying the party squeezes his heart in gratitude. He hugs him and when it’s your turn to say your goodbye, Hobi pulls you in for a hug as well, rubbing your back as he asks you if you’re okay. 

The soju remains in your hand. Sitting on the curb outside, both of you finish it while waiting to be picked up with Jungkook’s hand on your thigh and rough kisses shared in between. The wind doesn’t dare to disturb the intimacy, but watches on with a fond care, the stars hanging low, peeking through to witness at least one good thing of the night. 

***

“If this breaks me out, I’m gonna kill you.” 

Jungkook is carefully tender as he drags the makeup wipe along the perimeters of your cheeks, scowling at the sun-filled tint coloring the whiteness of the wet cloth. He had spent half an hour choosing the right brand in the drugstore earlier in the morning because he decided you were going to sleep over without telling you, reading each small letter on the packaging, despite the fact he understood shit. 

You’re still clothed and so is he, resting in the middle of the comfort of his bed as he hovers above you, knees perched at the foot of the bed. The aching ball of your own foot grazes the bulge in his intimate parts and Jungkook himself is at wonder how he’s able to focus when it stimulates all of his senses, adding heat to his body. 

“It’s Korean, it won’t break you out,” he mutters, swiping along the underside of your eye with extra care. 

“I once had a toner that—”

Jungkook covers your mouth with his palm. “It’s Korean,” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you. 

You giggle and he drops his glower, beaming down at you. 

“You know I can do it myself. I’m not that drunk.”

He focuses on your forehead now, cleaning off your foundation and all those sparkles. 

“I know you can, but let me.”

You babble on and Jungkook decides he’s had enough of it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m gonna shut you up.” 

He dumps the makeup wipe on your face and rummages through his bedside drawer. While you use it to cleanse off your neck, Jungkook spoils your surprise and opens your present. Is discreet as he smuggles it between your legs, pressing it against your clothed clit. 

The soft vibrations spread throughout his whole hand. He increases the intensity. 

You freeze, flicking your eyes to his, makeup wipe long forgotten. You roll your hips against the toy. 

“Oh my god.” 

Serves you fucking right. 

“Keep talking,” Jungkook mutters. “Hm, keep fucking talking and dare to come.” 

It’s maniacal, his laugh, but gentle and amorous in nature because he fucking loves you, loves to tease you, loves to make you feel good—show your body new things that it willingly accepts. You wiggle your hips, chasing the pleasure, mouth fallen open, emitting tiny satiny legato whimpers, which cause his cock to twitch in his pants—so much that he begins to move the purple toy all around your femininity while palming himself. He notices your lack of babbling. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks in feigned sympathy. “You suddenly have nothing to say?” 

You smile at him, and it stops everything. The roleplay of his mean dominance, the vibrations buzzing his hand. He turns the toy off and is straightforward as he says, “undress.” 

Does so himself.

He takes off his leather jacket and unbuttons his pants; watches you as you drag the skirt down those hips he wants nothing more than to kiss and hold in his hands. When it pools around your knees, he chucks the material behind him. You hook your thumbs beneath the waistband of your stockings and Jungkook thinks about how he’d like to tear them apart and make you lose your mind through the hole he’d create as he strokes the outer side of your thigh. He wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but he just can’t help it.

You rouse it him and he just listens. 

His hands are quick as they rip a hole above the center of your rosily pink panties. He smirks at your shocked gasp, so short and dry, drawing close to your pussy, kissing her, nuzzling his face in her. The tension in his intimate parts is almost unbearable when you run your hands through his hair and incite him to do more. He licks over the tiny wet spot on the frail material that he’s the artist of, adding to it, and watches the roll of your eyes because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. It’s a dance what your hips do, the most unkind torture and he longs to squeeze them.

He’s a good boy when it comes to listening to his body’s desires. 

Making a way through the beige hole, ripping it further in the process, he grabs the supple skin, thumbs fondling over your hip bones. So small, so delicious. Jungkook licks his lips, pushes your underwear to the side to reveal your dewy little seashell—fixes it so it stays put. Looks up at you. “Top off. I wanna see those pretty tits.” 

You’re a good girl, too, when it comes to obeying his wishes. 

A praiseful coo ripples out of his mouth once you reveal your black padded bra. Jungkook decides he wants it to be in line of his sight, so he lowers the straps down your arms and merely tugs the undergarment below your breasts. The spillage and the ripple of their fullness almost makes him die right then and there. Jungkook bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.

Two hindrances. The silky straps on your arms, the stockings he will soon lower down your thighs. Jungkook curses under his breath; thinks he should’ve gotten the ropes he was eyeing after his drugstore run. Pink and rough, just the kind you would’ve liked. 

Perhaps it isn’t needed for the lovemaking he longs for with you. Playtime and lovemaking are two different things, he concludes. 

He’s so horny he might lose his mind first. And he does—with nose pressed against your sternum, babbling nonsense while he buries his head in your tits. Inhaling your vanilla and tuberose scent, he kisses the valley leading up to the peak of your stiffened nub, trails it with his tongue, goes the extra mile to suck it into his mouth, hearing its call. He’s just listening—listening to your body language that asks for him. His eyes are blurry when he gazes at you. You’ve fled to the pink planet again, but he wants you here with him. While he flicks your nipple with his nimble tongue, he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks. Would die for your adorableness. Would go to war for it, a thousand times over. 

Jungkook sucks the nub to make your travel back to Earth faster and he accomplishes what he wants. With a roll of your body and a moan, you’re back, looking down at him, cradling him, brushing his hair back. He makes sure you see the way he toys with your nipple—keeps his mouth open as he circles it, flicks it before he sucks it back inside. 

“Stay here with me,” Jungkook mumbles, switching to the other nipple. “Please.” 

You nod, grinding your hips against his stomach. Another call. Your hands slide lower to his neck and Jungkook understands you want more. 

“Take control of me, baby,” he says. “Flip me over.” 

Your breath is shaky. A light flickers in your eyes, glints like his saliva adorning your nipple in the yellow dimness of the room. You grab a hold of his neck with your one hand like he does to you every time while the other comes around his shoulder and you push him to his back in one swift motion.

Jungkook feels proud. You learn well from him. So studious, so smart, so cute.

You straddle his hips and Jungkook begins to trace your thighs, fingertips gliding back and forth on the nylon, until he grips your hips—and grips them hard. He forces you down on the bulge of his cock, hissing at the pleasure rising up his abdomen. He feels your dewiness against the material of his boxers soaking it through. He guides your hips in a steady but firm rhythm and once you familiarize yourself with it and hump him on your own, he brushes his fingers across your wet nipples. The sensation sends you toppling back, spine arched as you ride him like you rode his Hello Kitty plushie, but Jungkook keeps his fingers on those two little nubs. Your tits bounce and slap against each other and he just follows their movement, squeezing, grazing, leading you to the burst of your climax. When he lets go, you lower your body enough for him to nuzzle his face in them, moving you to the tip of his cock that peeks out of his boxers. The contact of your little soaked clit with his oozing arousal makes Jungkook moan into your skin, and he feels his balls tighten. 

He lets you know by squeezing your arm, as if his furrowed brows, flushed face and the planes of his forehead shining in a layer of sweat weren’t indicating the matter enough. 

You enjoy every second of the torment you bestow upon him, back upright now, fingertip playing with his navel.

Even more so as you flip around and ride him reverse cowgirl style, the nylon of your stockings stretched taut over your ass. Jungkook feels faint.

You’re wearing a thong that is but a thin fabric and would cover absolutely nothing if it were in its right place. He can see your little puckered hole that he’s very hungry for, starved actually, with each backward movement you make. He yanks his boxers down, granting you access to paint his manhood with the loveliness of your shiny dewiness. Grunts at the sloppiness of your flesh gliding back and forth as you toy with his ballsack. On the top of his cock, your juices mix with his—creating a pretty, pretty palette. 

The way your pussy lips barely wrap around his girth, your little breaths and sobs—Jungkook can’t take it. White flashes in his eyesight, the build up of his orgasm nearing the end.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, flicking your hair behind your shoulders as you arch your back, your hair like a waterfall cascading down your spine. 

Jungkook pulls on it, halting your torture. “You’re gonna make me come,” he purrs. “What a waste that would be—for me to come all over my pants like a teenager when your cunnie is right here.” 

He rips your stocking further to reveal more of your ass. Pushes you towards his face until you’re sitting on it and—

He devours you. 

You cry out. The sound propels him to tighten his grip around the small of your back, to quicken the shakes of his head while his tongue stimulates your engorged clit, occasionally flicking against the muscle to hear more of your little noises. Your palm feels up his wet shaft and Jungkook rewards you for being such a good girl that thinks of her Daddy by taking your bundle between his lips and sucking it. Your body quivers, plays tag with his tongue and Jungkook growls, your taste the sweetest thing he’s had all week and he can’t get enough. Needs more, needs…

“Fuck yourself on my tongue.” 

He guides you. Spanks you when you find him. And the sobs you let out, interlaced with the naughtiest of whimpers, make him ache. Your walls press against him—stars fill his vision—and he can’t breathe. Needs you to come, needs a release himself, needs to taste your tiny hole that has never been touched before. 

His hand extends for the purple toy, keeping it on the low setting. He presses it against your clit and the way you tighten around him lets him know you’re soaring; mere seconds away from ascending fully to the pearly gates. 

Jungkook lets you reach your climax on your own, even though his hands itch to grab you and invigorate your thrusts. He wants you to have full control; wants you to get a heady taste of that liberty. 

Wants you to get used to it. 

You slow down your movement and Jungkook hears your cry first before your body begins to convulse. He holds you through your orgasm whilst he rubs the vibrator all over your clit and is ever so fucking mesmerized when he catches your pussy drooling and clenching. 

He aches—aches badly to be inside of you. 

Ridding you entirely of the mere cobwebs that your stockings have become, Jungkook holds your panties in place. His tongue darts out to swipe at your trickling hole, drags it past your skin across the other hole he’s yearning for. He feels you clench; he hears the litany of your incoherent words as you take in the new pleasure. He doesn’t touch your clit—he knows how sensitive it is after such an intense orgasm, so he just drags his tongue up and down both of your holes, swirling around the tight entrance. 

When he penetrates you there, you scream. 

You scream a bunch of yes’ in a row and Jungkook imagines your eyes are rolling back like they always are—imagines a grin on that fucked-out face of yours, eyelashes fluttering and wet with liquid emotions. It drives him to drill his tongue there in faster staccatos, moaning against you; the entirety of his bloodstream flowing to his intimate parts. He’s so hard he might burst, length heavy and solid against his stomach, but it brings him a great deal of pleasure to have you open like this, to taste you in a place no one has ever touched before, to give you a new experience that you’ll remember for a long time and possibly beg him for again. 

He sighs against you, drinking you to relax his jaw. Is drunk on the moment, probably enjoys it more than you do. 

You begin riding his face and he just offers you his tongue. Lets you do whatever you want. 

“Feels so fucking good, Jungkook, oh my god.”

You’re fast now and Jungkook feels proud of you. You’re taking charge, chasing your pleasure. His heart skips a beat when you want him in your ass again, and he willingly obliges, fucking you there until the tremor of your body signals him of the thunder of your approaching orgasm. 

You come on his tongue violently. Shuddering, screaming, leaving his neck, mouth, chin and cheeks wet. Dewiness for tears—he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Turning around, you don’t let him breathe before you grab his face and kiss him, licking into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your own rich flavor. Jungkook reciprocates all of your kisses and swipes of your tongue, doesn’t try to dominate you but instead revels in the nasty kiss, bucking his hips against your heat. So slippery, so fleshy. He grunts into your mouth.

When Jungkook sees your blissed-out face, he grins at you. Is blissed-out himself. “How’s that?” he asks. “You have all of my control. All of it.”

Your voice is hoarse when you say, “so fucking amazing, thank you,” and grin down at him just the same. 

Joy beats through his chest, illuminating him from within as if he had his own tapestry of the whole night sky right there above his heart. 

You sink lower down his thighs and pepper kisses along the length of his sticky cock. The gesture moves him and he lets you stay there for a moment while he briefly ponders over how a paralyzing form of pain led him to such a pure, expanding joy that he feels right now. 

Tears well up in his eyes. 

“Come here,” Jungkook pleads and you lift your head like a puppy. 

He decides that he doesn’t want any restrictions on your body anymore. Each move of his hand is calculated as he unclips your bra and tugs your stockings, along with your underwear, down your legs. Even his own clothes come off in a blink of an eye because all he wants is skin to skin contact, to be connected with you on the deepest, most raw level that there is. 

There’s a bit of nervousness coating his voice when he asks you to ride him due to his vulnerability. And when he feels the beginning of you, your heat encompassing him like the warm wind he last had grazing his body in his summer childhood days, the tears that loom in his eyes rush out. 

It feels like he’s back in those days, but only this time all things are made right. But he can’t lie his head down in that tall grass of his childhood and escape—not when you struggle to take him from the angle you’re not used to.

He doesn’t think he ever let you ride him. Not even once. He apprehends you don’t know how to go about it. 

“I know it hurts from this angle, but you can take it,” he says, willing his voice to be smooth as if he wasn’t crying at all—is thankful for the dimness that obscures his vulnerability from you. “You’ve taken me before, you can do it. Relax for me, sweetheart.”

You clench around him, stay frozen on the spot, and Jungkook can’t see. Filmy vision, emotions hurling at him like an incoming surge of waves. But all of that takes a step back when you mewl a pained noise and let yourself fall on his chest, his cock only a quarter of the way in. 

“I’m scared. It’s too sensitive, it hurts.”

You shift your hips so he slips out of you. Jungkook kisses your forehead, wraps an arm around you while the other travels further down, below the roundness of your cheeks. Makes sure you look at him as he says, “don’t be scared, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. There’s no rush. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you.” 

He looks at you for a long while—recognizes only some of your features in the dark—and so do you whilst he lulls you into a state of serenity by humming a song his mother sang to him during those summer days, by petting your head ever so fondly. He never realized how broken his inner child truly was until you kiss his tears away—see them, alas—and the boy inside him leaps into the sun-breathed air of the past. Grows into a young man with a dream in his heart and pensive thoughts beneath the thick set of black hair. Transforms into an adult man with love for a dream instead, for all that has become of his ambitions is the desire to be loved, to be wanted. 

Dream or desire, none of it matters now because all of it, in a strange way that heals him, intermingles with each exhale of your breath against his cheek—and with the inch you think you’re ready to take—all of it is fulfilled. 

A dream come true. A desire gratified. 

You’re his and he is yours. And he tells you. 

You kiss him everywhere. Nose, cheeks, neck. Grab his bunny plushie and tuck him into the crook of his elbow. Jungkook holds onto him as you take another inch, other hand holding his shaft as you sink down little by little, stopping whenever it gets too much. 

“You’ve always taken it so well,” he murmurs onto your pained expression, unable to take his eyes off of you. “I was made for you. It’s yours, baby. It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.” 

You clench at his words and the noise that you squeak makes him grunt onto your lips.

“That’s right, baby. I’m so proud of you for trying to take me so well like this when your little pussy is so sensitive from my tongue. You deserve to be rewarded, don’t you?” 

The smile blossoming on your mouth is dangerous with its coyness but confidence at the same time. He falls in love with you all over again, feels the tall grass of his childhood bending over his head, sifting through his hair. 

“I’m doing it for you,” you say. “I want to make you feel good.” 

A hum of appreciation. A kiss full of tongue. “Throw your hips back a little. Just like when we dance.” 

He’s not fully sheathed inside of you, but he feels your gummy walls smothering the half of his length and it’s enough. He doesn’t want to hurt you by filling you to the brim—he’s heedful even as he guides your hips with his hands, rolling them back as if you were grinding against him. Both of you danced like that many times before and because you know the move, you’re comfortable once you latch onto his hands and lift them, intertwining your fingers with his, pinning them down onto the mattress. Your hips gain speed, bouncing on him as your chest lifts a little, hovers above him and the bunny in the middle of his stomach, and Jungkook doesn’t let himself feel pleasure until your eyes lid and turn to the ceiling.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good. You’re a fucking”—Jungkook whines at the impact of a distinct hard slam of your hips down on his—“pro. My little fucking pro. Doing so good for me.”

He’s losing it and it’s so quick. The change of energy in the room, the arousal rising like fine dust in the air. All because his words nourished you with confidence that blazes the atmosphere around the bed. It’s just you, him and bunny in this microcosm and Jungkook longs to hold onto the plushie. Feels so much like you when he’s the one in control; feels as though you’ve become one in this emotionally charged act. He can’t differentiate between himself and you anymore. 

He’s simply become you because he loves you. Or has been you the whole time due to that very fact. Perhaps loving someone truly means becoming them because what you learn from them, what you mimic from them is perpetually yours.

An awareness of how tired you must be drifts across his mind. He knows that with each excellent performance comes the burning of the muscles so without thinking twice, he maneuvers you to his favorite position—remaining on his lap with your back against his chest and bunny stacked on top of you. He takes the lead but lets you decide the pace. You’re the boss. “Fast or slow?” 

“Fast.” 

Jungkook hums, raising a brow. “Fast? Cunnie isn’t sensitive anymore?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, propping an arm behind his neck. “I want it fast.” 

It’s simultaneous—the deed of two hands, yours and his, grabbing a hold of the fluffy belly of the plushie, fingers traveling and interlocking without a thought, without a direction, and yet meeting. Like two shooting stars. Like the ones you wear under your bottom lashes. 

One person. One mind, one heart. 

Jungkook taps your belly button with the tip of his cock. You laugh softly. He remembers how wide your eyes were in fear when you sat upright on his lower stomach and could clearly see how far he reached inside of you. 

“Ready?” he asks. 

“Yes.” 

He sinks his length into your warmth. The grass, the caress of the summer wind. You’re the personification of his childhood and Jungkook kisses you hard, tells you of it by the press of his lips on yours. Is ruthless as he ruts into you. His free hand clutches the vibrator and finds your clit under the small dangling legs of bunny. The low intensity is but a thrum, though by the gasps you emit, by the moans that rise in echoes within the atmosphere, he deduces it’s good. 

Smugness returns, hand in hand with his control. He presses the toy harder against you, rubbing it side to side—and this time he doesn’t stop. 

He doesn’t stop fucking you. 

Vigorous with strength, empowered by the free rein of his emotions that were accepted and loved, he pistons his hard cock into that tightness of yours, regardless whether you can handle it or not. Feels right at home, feels—

“Who’s your Daddy?” he questions without slowing down the rhythm of his brutal pace. “Who’s fucking you this good?” 

You hum, licking your lips, and your confidence fucks with him, strips him bare of any sanity he had left. You give him the eyes, flick your tongue against his lips before you tilt your head to kiss him with a brief passion. “You are.”

Butterflies. 

Jungkook drops the vibrator on the bed. Has to touch you, has to grip you—and he does. His hand finds your throat and he squeezes, kissing you with the same passion, prolonging it because what you did wasn’t fair. He needs the passion; he needs to swallow it down and feel it course down his body. And when you give him just that, along with your luscious moans, he rewards you. 

Gives you all of his cock. 

He rams himself into you, balls deep. Repeats it over and over, each thrust harder than the one before. Watches your irises disappear from your eyes, mouth agape, voice gone. Jungkook senses you’re leaving planet Earth again and he stops you. 

“Is this Daddy of yours your boyfriend now?” 

Like a bell, his heart is clanging and the freedom in that sentence losing its principle of ever being a risk causes his eyes to fill with tears again. He’s a mess. His emotions are a mess. But he’s so happy. 

And the smile you give him due to that question—it charges him with the longing power to own it, own you, so he grabs you everywhere. Your chin, your cheeks, your mouth, and you never stop smiling, not even when you say, “he is my boyfriend now, you got a problem with that?” 

The chuckle that rumbles out of his chest is a surprise to him because dizziness takes a hold of his entire being. He’s gone—he’s about to die. This is it. 

He kisses you and the act of your lips wrapping around his makes this so much more real. He squeezes you and bunny in his arms, hips grinding his circles now. “Does it hurt when I’m this deep?” he murmurs. 

“No, feels good.” 

“Let me know if it starts hurting, alright?” 

You nod, pecking him, gripping his hair. 

Jungkook lets go of your hand and slowly lifts you up and down on the hardness of his cock from behind. You’re so light in his hands, like a little angel assigned to his side, just his to play with. You tip your head back, the smile of yours having bloomed into a full grin. Jungkook watches you in awe. 

“Look at you riding me. You don’t need any help.” 

You giggle. Jungkook feels his cheeks fire up. Thinks the sound is angelic, it must be. Thinks the squelch of your pussy taking him, leaving him dewy, is angelic, too. 

It makes him stop playing with you and fuck you properly instead. 

He sits up. Angles your head so your lips touch his, but he doesn’t kiss you. He wants you there so you swallow all of the words that will come off his tongue, so you remember them even when the delirium wears off. 

He pounds into you. 

You’re no longer smiling. 

Takes the vibrator again. Provokes you, just because he can’t help it, by turning up the intensity and letting it only float above your clit, never letting it touch you. He’s not fast as he fucks you. On the contrary, his thrusts are hard. 

Merciless. 

He feels evil when he removes the toy completely, makes sure you watch, and presses it down into the softness between bunny’s legs. He turns your head back to face him and he mimics your moans, scrunches his features in pleasure, giving life to the plushie—acting for her.

But his meanness makes you come and you fall apart in his hands. He feels bad, terribly bad for you, and the feeling begins to consume his insides—so much that he gives you the pleasure he denied you mid climax. He presses the toy against your clit and—

You’re gone. 

Your stream of pleasure forces him out of you and it makes him moan loudly. It makes him moan when he rubs the vibrator all over your absolutely drenched cunt and you just keep coming. And it makes him moan when you beg him to keep fucking you. 

Who is he to say no to you? 

“You just want it bad, don’t you?” 

You nod against his head. Gone, gone, gone. He follows you into that rabbit hole, pounding you rough and fast this time, keeping you caged against him, fingers back in an intricate interlock. You smother him with your femininity and Jungkook is perpetually at wonder how you manage to do that, how you manage to never have enough. It makes him lose his fucking mind, lose everything—lose his identity. He just blurs into you. The stars in his chest pour like liquid into your ribcage. He feels them quivering when he touches your breasts all over. Wonders if you’ll come again for him. 

“Pussy molded just for me, hm, isn’t it?” he breathes. Hot, sweaty, on the brink of insanity. White flashes. Balls tight. Dizziness stealing his senses. “Good little pussy, always wanting more.” 

The air grows dense. 

“Mine,” he growls, voice strained—so close, so fucking close. “My pussy. Mine to fuck. Mine to eat. Mine to love—”

His gut tenses. Flames burn it hot. Time stops. Knuckles turn ivory in the feverish grip of your fingers upon bunny’s tummy; your walls, too, splattered in magnificent white. Jungkook fucks his cum into you, once, twice, for the last time—pumping you full. Giving you all that he has. 

He falls limp against his pillows. The toy buzzes on upon the comforter, long abandoned. 

His exhaustion doesn’t let him open his eyes. Not when his eyes sting with tears once more, not even when your warmth leaves his manhood. He knows you didn’t come this time around, however he doesn’t have the strength to fix it. His vigor oozed out of him and nestled within you—like his control, like his love, like his cum. 

He will make it up to you tomorrow morning. 

Now he needs sleep. He needs the tears to halt their hurting by leaking out of the inner corners of his eyes. Would prefer if you weren’t the witness to it because with his vigor departing, his vulnerability heightened. He’s ashamed of the sea of his feelings, but there’s nothing he can do to change that. He just loves you. 

He’s so happy that he’s yours and he fucked you so good and—

“You tired, baby?” 

You sound just like him. 

Jungkook suppresses his sob, swallows it right down. 

“I’m spent.” Too emotional. “Too spent to wash up.”

He feels a kiss on his nose, the comforter lifting, small warm hands on his body as he’s being tucked into his bed. Jungkook lies on his side. Feels too lonely. As if you had insight into his soul, you settle into the spaces of his form that you know are there for you to hide in. 

With a barrier in between. 

You push bunny’s back against his chest. Click the lamp off.

In the darkness, Jungkook allows his lungs to expand in their silent weeping. Finds bunny, finds your arm. Moves you closer until the plushie serves like a heart in the middle of your bodies. Fingers petting your hair, he allows another thing—

“I love you.” 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

[kaiser1ns]

𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: it doesn't take much to say or show you love someone even with the simplest of actions.

╹contents :: can be read as fem/gn reader; characters from blue lock, jjk and honkai star rail, FLUFF, ooc maybe?

╹notes :: as i was walking to go home at like 10pm i thought of this, hope you enjoy! added hsr specially for @okkalo ♡

ITOSHI SAE immediately takes you out to visit the sea when he gets some days off. The sounds of the waves, the relaxing atmosphere and you in his arms calm him down causing him to flashback to his childhood memories of when he was just a small and carefree child wanting nothing more but to play football with his little brother and personal cheerleader.

Not only he is known as the strongest but GOJO SATORU is also known for having a very strong sweet tooth. So what does he do to reduce the sugar? He shares it with you because there is nothing better than sharing his favourite thing with his lover, so let's say he gets a double dose of chocolate and candy from just seeing you and that's enough.

AVENTURINE is not afraid to take the risk and his constant smile makes it difficult for people to guess his true intentions. Not with you though, he lets his guard down, your voice soothing him to help him relax and as he gets lost in your touch. He is not Aventurine of the IPC or the Ten Stonehearts, he is just Kakavasha the little boy who once dreamed of love and now he won the biggest treasure in his life — you.

ITOSHI RIN knows how much you don't like scary movies, and that's why when you come over for the weekends you watch movies or series of your choice, be it Barbie or The Lion King. He will swallow his ego and stop watching the weekly uploads of his favourite scary games just so you can't fall asleep on purpose because of the horror films.

GETO SUGURU can't stop talking about how beautiful, amazing, and kind you are. Mimiko and Nanako are tired because they are the only ones who get to hear all his murmuring when you are away even for only 5 minutes. But they know how much he loves you and how you breathe life into him, and he wishes that someday they will become like you — strong and good-hearted.

ARGENTI thanks and prays to Idrila every moment of his life for obtaining the biggest blessing to ever exist and that is meeting you. The Knight of Beauty makes sure to give you one red rose every day to express his profound love and admiration, it's a small gesture that symbolizes his devotion to the relationship. He should protect his lover and like flowers, the tender petals are directed to you, with the thorns to the cosmic and its danger protecting you

It may seem that he is spoiled, but in fact, NAGI SEISHIRO is not, well not that much. Sometimes he takes charge of the household chores, giving you, a well-deserved break. He washed the dishes, cooked you a meal (instant noodles), and even tried to fold the laundry. And you, pleasantly surprised, sank into the couch, embracing the rare luxury of relaxation as familiar songs from your shared playlist were playing on the TV. Even if it doesn't happen often you are forever grateful for your lazy boyfriend to do something like that.

ITADORI YUJI shows genuine interest and actively listens to you talking about your current obsession be it a series, celebrity, book, food, or anything. He loves your voice, seeing your beautiful smile, and how your eyes seem to sparkle as you talk, he is so lovestruck that he sometimes just stares at you with the most soft and genuine look. Just don't be surprised when you find some merchandise on your desk with a little love note, okay?

Engaging in meaningful conversations and connecting on a deeper level with DR. RATIO seems like every other normal day for him. He approaches every interaction with a thirst for knowledge. And you take him by surprise every time and he doesn't know what to do, the great genius suddenly stops functioning. The way you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, make him stutter — he goes crazy and questions himself about how there is no logical explanation for this, but there is, it is called love.

SHIDOU RYUSEI doesn't like to share his material possessions with anyone, he worked so hard to get the last volumes of Chainsaw Man as they are now put on the shelf in his bedroom. And imagine his reaction when he sees you reading volume 10 which has Makina on the cover, cuddled nicely with his blanket on the bed. How dare you read it without him? And so he jumps onto the mattress, squishing you because that's your punishment for not telling him. You apologized to him of course but for him to fully forgive you, next time you will be on anicon cosplaying Makima and Denji.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI remembers the small details about you and your preferences. If you don't like a certain ingredient in the food, he will order the dish without it. You like to sleep on this side of the bed, no problem he will sleep on the other side as you both cuddle and drift to Dreamland. He will immediately notice the change in your mood and even if he is not so good with words, he will always be there for you offering his warm embrace.

As a Galaxy Ranger BOOTHILL tends to travel around the cosmos a lot and sadly he can't spend time with you. But when he's with you, one of the things you do is his hair and to put cute stickers on his metal hands or guns. The scary cyborg cowboy is now a pretty princess with pigtails, heart stickers and with a very happy lover. He watches you having fun with his makeover — and will do everything possible to spend more time with you.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

#✧* 🤍 blue lock #✧* 🤍 jujutsu kaisen #✧* 🤍 honkai star rail #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #x reader #sae x reader #rin x reader #nagi x reader #shidou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #itadori x reader #megumi x reader #jjk fluff #blue lock fluff #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #dr ratio x reader #argenti x reader #boothill x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blue lock x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #hsr x you

[yan-lorkai]

Imagine yandere Lucifer punishing his darling but instead of spells or line writing he goes for the silent treatment or just leaving them in a dark and enclosed space so and now there darling is getting flashbacks on how they were punished as a child and is begging him not to leave them

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, guilt tripping, child abuse, panic attack + comfort for the said panic attack, toxic relationship, probly some typos (❁´◡`❁)

You can still hear them, your parents screaming, their voices reverberating off the walls until everything goes silent. It is common for fights of this type to occur now; your father tries to protect you from your mother's extreme punishments, but he can never convince her to tell him where the basement keys are hidden.

Your father, blessed be his heart. He's was not good at defusing tension, throwing insults and punching things, and using a tone of voice so angry that it makes you shake and hold back crying.

Your childhood was like this, silent, ignored and sad, you often observed the world from behind the door lock. You could hear very faintly the news on television, you heard songs that your mother sang in an arithmic and out of tune tone, she gossiping with her friends, and above all you imagined a different life. A different world, with someone who loved you, with someone who protected you.

Things got even worse after your father's death, but you never told Lucifer these details. It wasn't a pleasant conversation to have, even though you trusted him a lot and you knew he would calmly comfort you and ease your fears, there was still distrust and pain present in your heart. You used to imagine a pink, pretty and glamorous love, and really Lucifer was all of that. But he had an additional danger lurking in the darkness of his heart, in his sharp-toothed smile and in his hands with huge claws that encircled your waist.

He was a demon and like all demons, the Morningstar loved possessively, a love so suffocating that it stole your entire essence. But you didn't care, you didn't know better and you let him take whatever he wanted from you without thinking twice. Lucifer was an extremely sweet and soft boyfriend most of the time, but he also was incredibly methodical.

Stopping to think now you don't know if he ever really loved you or the idea of ​​you. The idea of ​​a human lover who was strong and survived the seven lords of hell, the idea of ​​a lover who was kind and funny and so fragile he could rip you in half with a single punch. Maybe that was why Lucifer loved having you on his lap so much, resting his face on your neck while he worked, he needed something weak to feel strong.

Just like your mother needed you to blackmail your father. The strong overcoming the weak, hunter and prey. And once again there was nowhere for you to run or anyone to help you.

The problem with ideas is that they are fragile, they break easily. Today instead of you coming to spend your time with Lucifer like you always did, you preferred to spend time with Simeon and Luke. They were your friends, it was only natural. But apparently it wasn't something that pleased Lucifer, he didn't like it one bit and he let you know this with the severe expression attached on his face.

"I will give you a chance to redeem yourself," ruby ​​eyes staring into yours as if he withheld all the truth in the world and you were the most lying human he had ever seen. As if you were a flower that he needed to cleanse of the weeds that corrupted you. "Apologize if you will."

There was something different about him as soon as you found him. The soft sound of piano coming from his record player as the open windows let the air in and the dark atmosphere sink into your bones, a shiver went down your spine just like it did when you witnessed Lucifer punishing one of his brothers.

A bitter taste spreading in your mouth as you watched him cross his arms and smile. But it wasn't the same smile he gave you as soon as you got a good grade on your test or right after you two woke up. That smile was one of fascination every time he whipped Mammon or killed a demon, dark, sly smile that made a knot curl in your throat and tears of fear come to your eyes. A dark smile.

You remembered your father's voice. You remembered the slaps you received from your mother and your little world in the basement. You trembled, not knowing how to respond or act, only being able to count how many times Lucifer sighed or the number of times his feet made contact with the floor. The silence stretched until it seemed obscene. And the Morning Star had reached the end of his patience, disappointed in your silence and angry at being your second choice.

He crossed his office with slow steps, his expression now more neutral, Lucifer held your face between his hands tightly, his nails bruising your skin. You waited for anything, screams, attacks, except Lucifer touching his forehead to yours and looking into your eyes as if you were a dumb little thing. There was tenderness and there was fear, and there was a little of everything, your heart beating confusedly inside your chest as you drown on your own feelings.

"My sweet, naive summer child, you don't know what you did, do you?" He uses that condescending tone that almost makes you roll your eyes, but you don't, realizing that you're already in trouble and you don't want to irritate him even more. "Lovers are always each other's first priority, MC. Ever."

Your eyes widened as Lucifer freed your face from his hands and turned onto his back. "Wasn't I good enough for you, Mc? Have I not cared for and loved you always, as a good lover would? So why am I not your first priority like you are mine?"

Oh. You had hurt him. Oh my, you had hurt him.

You denied, pulling his arm so he turned to face you again. "No, no, I love you very much, Luci, I don't have eyes for anyone but you and I'm sorry if I made you doubt my feelings."

But he remained standing with his back to you, thinking, Lucifer was unpredictable when he was hurt, he was angry in his actions and vengeful in his words, and when he was quiet like this you always felt a little apprehensive. He walked away without saying anything in return, back to his paperwork, as if you weren't even there.

Was he ignoring you? You decided to move closer to him, guilt pounding in your chest as you sat down in the chair he always kept next to his. The same chair you left empty today while you were having fun with the angels, not thinking about how lonely he must be feeling being alone all day.

Were you really so wrong about spending time with your friends? Several minutes passed in silence, broken only by the sound of a pen dragging over paper and your breathing. It was so uncomfortable, the silence, you turned to see the closed expression that had closed on Morningstar's beautiful face, eyebrows twisted, lips set, he wasn't happy at all.

"Lucifer, can we talk?" You asked.

Lucifer, however, remained silent, not giving in to your words. He hummed his favorite song as he read and signed documents, smoothing his bangs as they fell in his eyes. In other times he would be reading to you out loud as you had confided in him that you loved listening to him speak, you would pull your chair closer and lay your head on his shoulder. You hated the silence.

In the silence you remembered the days spent in the basement, the sleepless nights and the shadows that crept from the walls to you, close to touching you before disappearing. And then the cycle repeated itself, your parents screamed, you listened the news and the gossips, night came and the shadows return, tauting you, mocking you.

You looked down, feeling the depth of the wound you had caused. The silence persisted, heavy, as you remained distant from each other, trapped in a moment of disagreement and hurt. The tightness in your heart became unbearable, suddenly you were back in your small basement room, the light fading, the cold crackling over your skin.

You looked down, your feet chained to the walls again while roachs and rats runned past you. And Lucifer... Lucifer had abandoned you because you ruined everything. Your body tightened, you took one, two breaths until you realized that the oxygen was not able to reach your lungs.

'He hates you.' An annoying voice screamed in your mind, making you flinch on your seat. 'He's going to break with you. He's going to leave you alone again.'

'If even your parents couldn't love, why he should?"

'Undeserving and ungrateful, good for nothing human.'

Too much noise. Too much silence. Too much everything. Invisible hands started to climb up your body, leaving you trembling and gasping for air.

Everything is crashing down on your already overwhelmed mind. You were stumbling in the darkness, without a light in sight, no end in the horizon. No switch to flick the light on, no Bringer of light in sight. Trapped forever here, alone. You clutched onto your chest with weak fingers. Your lungs were rising and falling at a far rapid pace, one you couldn’t gain control of. Everything was burning. What was this?

A panic attack? A heart attack? 

A pair of hands found their place on your shoulders, nails digging straight into your skin, burning, scratching. You felt lightheaded, a thin line of sweat bathing starting to run down your neck as you tried to breath. Your eyes were open but you saw only darkness in front of you, you could breath only darkess, for it was only you and darkness that existed right here and right now.

The only good thing on your life was your relationship and you destroyed it so easily, so mindlessly.

There, in the darkness you could see your mom's face wearing a twisted smile. You struggled against your shackles backing away from her at every step she took on your direction, red painted nails trying to reach you, trying to harm you again as she always did.

“Breathe in, darling.” Lucifer’s voice cut through the panic, voice sounding too angelic for a demon like him. “Look at me, darling, I'II help you.”

You still looked at her, smile on her lips, eyes wild with angry. You whimpered, trying to put some more distance between you two.

She disapperead as soon as Lucifer placed your hand on his chest, freeing you from her mirage. “Slowly breath in!” You followed your lover's instructions, breathing through the nose at the same time as him. If anyone could save you from the darkness and the pain now, it was him. “And out- keeping going, darling, just like that.”

There was urgency in his voice you realized. But why? Why would he care when he hated you? The voices on your head had lied to you? But he also had leaved you alone - though you did the same to him just earlier, it's true.

“Breath in-” Light. It was you how would describe him, black as coal hair being lightned by a broken halo. He held onto you so softly, wiping the thick tears that you haven't even realized that were falling. You could see that he was confuse, scared even, since not even Mammon behaved like this after or during a punishment. "Everything's ok?"

The cat seemed to have caught your tongue, your head lolling forward as your entire body collapsed into his chest. Tired, that's how you felt, tired of the pain, tired of the darkness and having to remember that person.

That person who should love and protect you. That person that made your life a living hell just because she could, because it was fun, the same person whose house you would return after the exchange program.

Sobs erupted from your chest, trembling again in Lucifer's arms but from a different reason now. From exhaustion, from fear. Your arms circling his torso with enought stregth to knock him up if he was a puny and weak human. But he was not. He was not, if he was cruel like her then he would be laughing now, he would bellitle you.

He was not cruel. And he couldn't know that ignoring you would trigger such reaction. It was all your fault.

You looked at him, brows furrowed, apprehension on his eyes as he hold you, hands rubbing your sides and back. Lucifer was nothing like her, would never be like her even in a million years.

"I'm sorry." You whispered unable to formulate a better apologize. "Don't hate me, please."

Please, don't leave me. Please don't take the light away. Just please stay, you wanted to scream, want to let him know what happened. But couldn't, eyes blurry with fresh new tears, lips trembling, and Lucifer held you gently. He knew you couldn't talk right now, could see in your eyes that you were unable right now with panic and fear swimming in them - any and all reasons for your sudden outburst forgotten while he comforted you so gently.

The awful silence was replaced by your lover's loud little kisses that he peppered your face with. "It's ok, love, I've got you."

IBut you were right, he was nothing like your mother. In fact, he was worse and he recorded this entire event on his mind, replaying it, trying to find a reason why you reacted that way.

With time he could use this to shape you, could train you to never leave him, to never look at anyone else, to not even thinking any dumb throughts. He smiled, bringing you much closer than before, there on the floor, for you have fallen without realizing, hugging him, you felt safe again, felt loved, if only you realized that his love was toxic and suffocating... But it's too late now.

#yandere obey me #obey me #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer x mc #yandere lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer avatar of pride #lorkai drabble

[strawberriescherrieskiwi]

I’ll borrow this music and give it to you.

Anon requests:

N/A

Wordcount: 17.8K+

Masterlist

Description: From Childhood crush, first love, and heartbreak, Amy and Laurie were staples in your life and you wouldn’t where you’ll be without them. Through fights, tears, and break up your roads always led back to each other.

A/N: So here this is. It’s insane how long this is. It is the longest thing I have written to do and I am very proud of myself for writing something this long. It took working on it off and on all month and I kept adding new scenes, I hope you all love it. Title is long but it is based on a song I listened to on repeat while writing them.   Tagging @livresjaunes​ I hope you like it.

And also tagging @sufferingstarlight​ as their Queer week and Throple fic inspired me.

Warning: Fluff, Angst, Slow burn, friends to love, Reunited lovers, first love, young love, Traid couple. Smut. A lot of flashbacks. Mention of child abuse, abusive family. Homophobia and innerhomophobia.  Character death- not major.

Amy

Amy

Amy

Those were the first words you thought of in the morning and the last words you thought of at night.  Amy was your best friend. How could you not think of her all the time? No one made you as happy as Amy, no one knew you as well as Amy did, and no one held you together quite like Amy did.

She was more than your best friend, she was your life, your person. So she was a bit rough around the edges sometimes, but she was young and eager to be different from her sisters. To have 3 lovely sisters that everyone loved was hard for her. She wanted to be just like them and stand apart from them.

You saw Amy apart from her sisters. You saw how smart, talented, and strong she was.  You always had her back, always by her side to build her up when she was down, to make her laugh when she was sad.

“Amy, you’ll get into trouble if you do that,” you whispered over her shoulder, biting your lip nervously, looking around the room to ensure the teacher was still gone.

“You worry too much. I want to show everyone my skills,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at you. The other girls laughed at your fear, egging her on.

“We all know you are talented, you don’t have to get into trouble to prove it,” you huffed going back to your seat and pulling out a book to read. You enjoyed school and you didn’t like being on your teacher’s bad side. 

“Miss March,” The teacher snapped when he saw Amy drawing on the desk. His loud voice made you jump slightly and you stared at Amy.

“Hand, Miss March,” he said. 

When Amy started to cry you stood up. “You can’t just hit her. You can’t just hit any of us,” you said, stubbornly.

“Would you like to take her hits for her?” He asked glaring at you.

“No,” Amy said standing up. “It is my punishment,” she said to him, but her eyes were on you.

You pouted slightly. You were stronger than Amy, you were used to being hit. Something that Amy was well aware of and always tried to protect you from it. The last thing you would do is to allow you to get punished for something she did.

You had to look away as his ruler came down on her knuckles again and again. Her sobs made you sob as well and then she was running out of the school, ignoring the calls of the teacher.

“You are a horrible teacher,” you spat at him.

“You all will thank me one day,” he said, going to the front of the room.

You scoffed, slamming your books on the desk. “I wouldn’t ever thank you and if I had my way you’ll never teach again.”

“Well, I am glad you have no say then. Now sit down before you are punished,” he threatened.

You glared at him, grabbing your things and leaving. You refused to be around him any longer. You were sure the male students were not hit like you all were, it was unfair.

You ran straight to the March household looking for Amy, only for her family to be just as shocked to know she left school. “I am sorry, Marmee. I should have left with her. I should have never let him hurt her,” you sobbed on her shoulder.

She hugged you close. You were her bonus daughter. She knew your home life was less than ideal and while she didn’t know all the details, just that your father and brother had died years ago and your mother didn’t know how to cope with the loss, she knew you needed love.

 The abuse wasn’t something she could fathom. She just thought your mother was suffering and you fell to the side in her suffering.  It didn’t matter to her, she saw you as a March, and loved and adored you as one of her own.

 “It is alright, my darling. It is not your fault. He was wrong for hurting her and Amy should have come straight home,” she said, kissing your forehead.

Just then, Meg came into the room. “I found Amy, she is next door.”

The moment you saw Amy on the sofa you ran to her side hugging her tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. She sobbed as well as the whole family hugged her tightly. Both of you crying too much for anyone to understand your words.

A throat clearing and a slight cough had you pulling away from Amy and seeing a boy a few years older than you and Amy. His eye caught yours and he smiled kindly, you sniffled wiping your face.

“Hello,” you said politely.

“Hello,” he said back, walking forward and giving you a tissue.

You thanked him and took the tissue. Amy giggled from your side pulling your attention to her. 

“That is Laurie Laurance,” she whispered into your ear. “This is his home. He is new in town,” she said, never taking her eyes off of him. “Isn’t he beautiful?” She asked.

You looked back at him. He was beautiful. Astonishingly beautiful, his eyes soft and kind. He stood tall, but not overly confident, he had a look in his eye that you liked. But you didn’t like the way Amy looked at him. “He is okay,” you stated.

“He was so kind to me, and look at his curls,” she gushed.

You ignored her commented and grabbed her hand, kissing it softly. “I am sorry about your hand.”

Amy smiled, touching your cheek. “You are my best friend, I love you, but you shouldn’t have tried to take my punishment.”

“Maybe if your punishment was worthy of the crime, hitting us like that  is barbaric.”

“That is why Jo should teach us both at home, right, Jo?” Amy said turning to face her.

“No no. You two are too young, too rowdy, and never listen,” Jo said, shaking her head.

“Oh please oh please. We are mature enough, please,” Amy begged.

“Please Jo we can’t go back to the horrible man. I’m sure my mother will pay you a lot.” Your father was a wealthy man and when he died it all went to your mother. While she didn’t care about you much, she never had much of a problem with spending money on you. Her way of trying to make up for the neglect.

“I will think about it,” Jo sighed.                             

With your mother offering Jo a number she couldn’t refuse, she began teaching you and Amy at home. It was heaven being taught at home and being able to be with Amy without having to fight for her attention from your former classmates.

The only time you didn’t have her attention is when it was on Laurie. You hated him for it. His stupid smile and his stupid eyes. He was so kind and sweet all the time and you hated it. 

As you grew up you realized that your feelings for Amy changed. They weren’t the sisterly/ best friend feelings you had once, no they had grown deeper. Feelings you shouldn’t have for another woman and it frightened you.

“Amy,” you asked when you were 15. You both were sitting by the lake. Her head was in your lap and your fingers ran through her hair, she looked up from her sketchbook at you when you spoke. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“Kissed anyone? Like a boy?”

“Yes. A boy or maybe a girl…”

“A girl?” She asked sitting up, staring at you with wide eyes.

“I don’t know, just. You hear about things right? Like women in Europe that never marry and spend all their time together. People say they are in love.”

“Women in love with other women?” She questioned her face pinched up in confusion.

“And men in love with other men,” you added, worriedly.

“Well, I suppose love is love. You can’t help who you love,” she shrugged. “I’ve never kissed a boy or a girl. Have you?”

You shook your head. “No never.”

“Really? But your mother takes you to all those fancy parties with all the rich and handsome boys and girls.”

“I guess I don’t like any of them.”

“Have you seen Laurie at the parties?” She asked.

You furrowed your brows. “Sometimes, but I have never kissed him.”

She looked off in a daze for a moment before turning back to you. “Shall we kiss?” She asked.

Your eyes widened and your heart sped up. “What?”

“Well, I love you and you love me. Marmee always said your first kiss should be with someone you love. That way we will have practice for later on,”

“Later on?” You asked.

“Yeah, later on.” She grinned moving closer to you. She cuffed the side of your face tenderly. You’ve never been touched so softly before your breath caught. “Can I kiss you now?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as your lips slightly brushed against each other.

“Amy is that you?” Jo shouted from down the lake.

You and Amy jumped pulling away from each other. Your face grew hot and Amy flushed bright red. Jo quickly ran over with Laurie in tow.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. Have you finished your schoolwork? And you didn’t clean the attic like you were meant to,” Jo scowled.

You sighed in relief as it seemed she didn’t see you two kissing.

“Jo, I will get to it later,” Amy whined. Jo was having none of it and grabbed her arm and started to drag her away chastising her the whole way. Amy tried to pull away, looking back at you, but Jo kept walking.

You stared wistfully after her.

“What are you thinking?” Laurie asked. You jumped having forgotten all about him, you flushed looking up at him, seeing him already staring at you.

“Theo,” you said. As your feelings for Amy grew and her admiration for Laurie grew, you started to call him Theo to annoy her which turned into you calling him that to his face sometimes.

“Why do you call me that?” He asked, laughing slightly as he took a seat next to you.

“Do you not like it?”

“Hmm, I’m unsure. My mother used to call me that.”

You gasped slightly feelings horrible. “Oh, Laurie, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I-I”

He laughed, placing his hand on yours. “It’s okay. I guess I missed being called that. Most people call me Laurie. Jo calls me Teddy, but I miss being Theo.”

“Then I will call you Theo,” you smiled.

Laurie’s smile back was heart stopping and for a moment you felt your own heart skip a beat. 

“What were you and Amy doing?” He asked.

Your heart skipped again. “What did you see?” You asked.

“Nothing if that is what you wish.”

“Did Jo see?” You asked fearfully.

“No, she was too upset.”

“Thank you, Theo.”

“Of course, that is what friends are for.”

You felt bad for your disliking of Laurie and after that, you two became a bit closer.  He saved you from your mother's overbearingness at parties and you two made jokes together and almost had your own language, which was just a mix of French and Italian. 

“Do you think about going to Italy for your studies?” You asked him once.

Laurie was walking you home after you both spend the day putting on plays with the March girls. You were arm and arm and the night was cool and you both walked close together to stay warm.

“I don’t want to leave here. It’s home for me. You, my grandfather, the Marchs’, it’s home.”

“But Italy was home once. You lived there with your parents.”

“I think it would be too emotional to go back home for school. To be surrounded by the memories but alone, would be too much for me,” he said, shrugging, looking at the ground

You stopped walking tugging on his arm until he looked at you. “ Theo… I will make a promise to you. If you ever want to go back, I will go with you. We will walk down the street, eat all the food and be happy. 

You can show me all the places you remember and then we can go there and make happy memories and then if you need to let out your emotions, my shoulders are here for you,” you smiled, patting his cheek.

Laurie was silent for a moment before a smile took over his face and he pulled you into a hug. He buried his head into your shoulder, he sniffled slightly. You let him hug you for as long as he needed, patting his back lightly.

When he pulled away he was smiling. “I am glad we have grown closer. I adore Jo and all the girls, but I feel like there are things I can talk to you about that I can’t with them.”

You nodded in understanding. “I feel the same. Amy is my best friend, but you Theo are someone I can be myself with.”

“I know you have lost your father and brother. And I want you to know you can talk to me about them, you can talk to me about anything.”

“And you can do the same.”

He told you about his feelings for Jo, but never pushed to hear more about yours for Amy but let you know if you wanted to talk about your feelings that he was there. He made you laugh and made you feel safe. Along with Amy, he was your person too.

The three of you were a little unit. A combined subunit of You and Amy and Laurie and Jo. It wasn’t often that the three of you were together but it was always a good time when you were

“So tell me, Theo, what is it you want to do with your life?” You were at the Marchs’ and after a slight incident, you were huddled by the fire wrapped in a thick blanket with Laurie and Amy, you all shivering.

“What do I want to do with my life? Why must I do anything? I have money already,” he said with a wide grin. Amy giggled behind her hands and he shot her a quick wink.

“He does have a point,” she said, from your other side.

“There must be something you are passionate about though?” You asked.

He twisted his mouth towards the left and thought about your question. “Music, I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “I like constructing it, operas, symphonies, anything really.  I like telling stories through music.” Laurie glanced over at you both once he was finished and ducked his head slightly.

“Wow that’s amazing Laurie,” Amy said. “You should do it.”

“I agree that’s an incredible talent,” you added.

“How would you know, you haven’t heard any of my works.”

“I just know,” you grinned.

He blushed and looked away from you.

Amy cleared her throat and hugged her mug of cocoa. “Well, I for one want to hear with you wrote. Oh please let us hear some,”

“Yeah, Theo, please,” You begged along with Amy.

“Alright. Alright, I promise when I write something good I’ll show you both. Now what about you, what do you want to do?”

“Oh, I am unsure,” you said looking down at your hands. “I don’t think I have any talents.”

“Oh, she is being modest, she is multitalented. She is a wonderful singer, and she is so good with words and languages, and she is the best model, she poses for all my sketches.”

It was your turn to be flustered and you looked into your cup. “I like learning most, reading and I don’t know.. I like  words a lot, but I’m not sure that is a talent.”

“Are you joking? That is an amazing talent, “Laurie said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Well if you are talking talent then we can’t leave out Amy, her drawings are so detailed and done with so much care and patience. One day we will see her work in museums all over the world.”

Amy buried her face into your shoulder. “I am not that good. Laurie, she is exaggerating.”

“I am not. She is amazing.”

“I could be better,” she mumbled.

Laurie smiled at the two of you. He reached around and pat her head. “You have so much time to perfect your craft, Amy. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I won’t. With both your encouragement, I’ll work harder,” she said determined.

“Okay, I have cookies, who wants some,” Hannah said coming into the room.

“We do,” you all shouted at the same time, laughing.

For a while, life was nice, simple, and perfect.

“You should marry soon.” Your mother said, years later, walking into the room and interrupting your reading. You sighed softly, closing your book.

“Mother, I am only 17,” you said.

“At your age, I was married and on my second child,” She huffed.

“I will marry when I meet a nice man,” you said.

“There are plenty of nice men. How about Simon Baker?”

“He is 35,”

“And rich and without a wife.”

You huffed.

“Is this about that March girl?” she questioned walking closer to you, putting you on high alert.

“Amy is my friend.”

“Don’t lie to me. I see the way you look at her. It’s disgusting.”

“Amy is my friend,” you repeated.

“And what about that Laurence boy?”

“Also a friend.”

“At least that one would make a good partner.”

“He is a friend.”

“Maybe if he was a friend in the same way as the March I wouldn’t have to marry you off.”

“You can’t marry me off,” you said, gasping at her.

“I can do as I please.”

You didn’t want to argue it never ended well, so you turned back to your book huffing.

“Don’t huff at me. You will marry someone and do it soon. I am sick of you in this house,” she said, grabbing the back of your head and pulling your hair roughly a few times, pulling a few bits out.

You cried out and she shoved you to the ground. “Disappointment, why couldn’t you be like your brother.”

“He is dead mother. I can’t bring him back and you can’t keep punishing me. I didn’t kill him or father.”

“Shut up, you insolent girl,” she said, slapping you.

You stood up and ran out of the house. You ran all the way to the March house, but no one was home. You sobbed, needing to see Amy. To have her wrap her arms around you and tell you everything will be okay.

You left the March house a mess. Having no place to go you ran to the lake. You were so distraught you didn’t even notice Laurie or that you were close to falling into the water. Luckily, Laurie wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you.

“What’s wrong, what happened? You’re bleeding,” he said, touching your head, making you sob harder, and wrapping your arms around his waist.

Laurie held you close, whispering softly to calm you down as he led you to his home. He sat you down and grab a cloth to clean you up. “What happened to you?”

“My mother. She hates me. She hates me because I am not dead, she hates me because I am not my brother, she hates me because I have feelings for Amy. Everything about me she hates,” you sobbed

“I am sure she doesn’t hate you.”

“She does. And maybe she is right, I am odd. Unnatural,” you sobbed.

“No. There is nothing wrong with you. You are perfectly fine. She is wrong, lost in grief, and takes it out on you. You are not unnatural. Nothing about love is unnatural.” Laurie wiped your tears, smiling softly at you. “If you are unnatural. Then, I am as well.”

“She wishes to marry me off to some horrible man. He’s 35 years old and lives in Europe. I’ll never see any of you ever again.”

“She won’t.”

“She will. She will.”

“Do you dislike men? Maybe you can marry someone else. Someone kind? Or at least court someone to get her off your back.”

“I’ve… I don’t know. I’ve never thought about men or other women, it’s always been Amy,” you sniffled.

“Well then maybe you like men as well. Maybe you could fool her for a bit.”

“What if I can’t what if I don’t like them? What if I can’t pretend or kiss them or-” You were cut off by Laurie’s lips pressing against yours.

Your eyes widened slightly, but his lips were soft, warm, and just Laurie's. Your eyes closed and you leaned into his kiss. He cupped your face and you placed your hands over his.

He pulled away after a few moments and your eyes opened to stare into his. “How was that?” He whispered.

“It was nice. Really nice,” You smiled. “Have you done this before, Theo?”

He shook his head. “I am glad to see you are not crying anymore. You are my friend and I hate to see you down. I won’t let your mother marry you off,” he assured you.

“Laurie have you seen- “Amy paused as she came into the room with her sisters and saw you and Laurie. His hands are still on your face and yours on top of his.

You quickly pulled away from him and his hands dropped quickly as he looked at Jo, but your eyes never left Amy. Her face pinched slightly but then she was running to you, and cupping your face.

You were confused until you remember the way you looked. Face puffy and probably dried blood in your hair. 

“What happened, sweet girl?” She asked.

You just moved closer to her wrapping your arms around her neck. You felt Laurie get up from the sofa and you pulled back from Amy slightly to grasp his wrist. “Theo, thank you,” you whispered in Italian.

He nodded and walked out of the room with the rest of the Marchs’.

“Sweet girl?” Amy questioned.

You turned back to her telling her about your fight with your mother, going to her home and Laurie finding you. Leaving out the part about your feelings and kiss.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t home. I’m sorry that she hurt you. You know she is wrong, you don’t need to be your brother. You are beautiful, smart, and so talented. You know one day we should move away. Go to Paris I can paint and you can study all the languages and read all the books you want.

“We would run away together?” You questioned.

“Yes just the two of us. Won’t that be fun?” she said, wiping your tears and kissing your forehead. 

“I would like that very much.” 

Amy smiled, pressing her lips to yours quickly. Since your first kiss, you two shared kisses on multiple occasions. Amy moved to the sofa and pulled you into her arms, holding you close. “I would like that as well.”

It was only days later, when things took a turn in your life.

“You and Laurie are really close these days,” Amy said on one of your walks days later.

“He is closer to Jo,” you said. “And I’m closer to you,” you added, bumping her shoulder.

She didn’t smile.  “Yet closer than I am with him.”

“Are you jealous?” You said, trying to hide your smile. You were 17 now.  Despite all the kisses you two shared over the last few years, you were always uncertain about her feelings for you, but if she was jealous then maybe she felt the same.

“Maybe, I don’t like it.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t lose me.”

She groaned, “I know that, but still.”

You chuckled. “You are my best friend. Theo is just a friend.”

“You call him Theo.”

“You are my best friend,” and then you grabbed her shoulders, stopping her from walking, and kissed her pouting lips.

Amy pulled away. “Stop it, don’t kiss me when I am upset with you.”

You frowned. “Why are you upset? You won’t lose me,”

“Yes, but I could lose him. I first had to compete with Jo and now you for his affection.”

“You… like Laurie?”

She threw her hands up. “Of course I like Laurie.

“Laurie? Laurie? You like Laurie?” 

“Yes yes. Has it not been obvious?”

Of course, it has been. Of course, you never thought about it, you had a suspension once, but you thought it was something small and passing.  You thought that… you thought she felt something for you. You were stupid.

“Why did you kiss me all the time if you like Laurie?”

“For practice. We were practicing,” she said as if it was obvious.

Practiced. You thought about her words when you were young to practice for later. You wanted to be upset with her. You wanted to yell at her, but it wasn’t her fault she didn’t love you. That she didn’t know that the kisses meant more to you. 

Your eyes filled with tears. “Laurie doesn’t love you, Amy,” you said hurtfully.

She scoffed, “And he doesn’t love you either.”

“I know that. I know he is in love with Jo,”

“He is not. Stop trying to say things to hurt me.”

“I am not. I am telling the truth.”

“How could you be so cruel to hurt me because I like him? Are you jealous?”

You were now in a state of panic. You couldn’t tell her about your feelings now. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have told you that I kissed Theo.”

She gasped. “What? You kissed him?”

“He kissed me actually.” You were being cruel now, and you hated yourself for it.

Her eyes filled with tears as well.  “I thought you were my best friend,”

You scoffed. “I’ve been more than your best friend for years.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing Amy, nothing at all.”

She frowned. “No, tell me.”

“No.”

“If you are my best friend then tell me.”

“Don’t use that, Amy March.”

“I just did. We tell each other everything.”

“You didn’t tell me about your feelings for Laurie.”

“And you didn’t tell me about your kiss with him.”

“I suppose we are not as close as we thought then. Good night, Amy.”

You turned and walked toward your home. You so badly wanted Amy to run after you, shout after you or something, but nothing happened and you slowly let the tears fall as you walked away with a broken heart and a destroyed friendship. You ran home and sobbed in your room for hours. 

For the next few weeks, you avoided going out into town you didn’t want to see Amy or any of your friends.  It was awful being alone and with your mother, it was worse. She spent every moment telling you how worthless you were or trying to push Simon onto you. You spent time with him just to get her off your back and to not be alone.

The first time you left the house you ran into Amy with a group of girls you once went to school with. They were laughing about something and having a good time. You made eye contact with Amy and she quickly turned away as if she didn’t see you.

Your heart ached and you ran all the way home. Making a rash decision, you told your mother you would marry Simon and move to Europe with him. She was overjoyed and within two weeks you were married and on a plane to England.

You sat under a tree in a busy park in France. It was a warmer day, but there was a nice breeze. The perfect day to enjoy a good book. You took a deep breath and enjoyed the French air.  Children ran around causing a smile to grow on your face. You were happy and content.

You were 23 and a widow. Your late husband was not the cruel man you thought him to be. He was kind and gentle and understood that your feels laid elsewhere as his own did. A friend from his youth, a male friend he loved and lost in war. 

He declared he would never love again after loving so deeply. But pressure from his family had him scrambling to find a wife to keep his secret, but he hated the idea of someone loving him when he was unable to do it back.

And then you two got married and while you never told him in so many words about your feelings for Amy. He knew that you were also heartbroken and in need of protection and a friend.

So you married as friends and he became your best friend when you moved to Europe with him. You two had a happy life, one that was just as happy as people actually in love, because you both cared about each other and enjoyed each other company, when he died you were broken. You were happy with him as your companion and without him, you were alone again.

Well, you weren’t always alone. Laurie was someone that you didn’t think you would have run into in London one day but you did. He was studying in London after traveling around with his grandfather and you two find comfort in each other for a while.

“Laurie? What are you doing here?” You asked when you bumped into him with Simon. It was one of his good days and he wanted fresh air and you two decided on a stroll together. “Simon this is a dear friend of mine from when I was a girl, Theodore Laurence.”

“You are still a girl, darling,” Simon teased, patting your hand before turning to Laurie. “I believe we met during my brief time in the States, it is nice to see you again.”

Laurie looked between the two of you as if in a daze. But then something snapped him out of it and he shook Simon’s outstretched hand. “Oh yes we have met before, nice to see you as well.” And then he turned to you. “I am here for university. My grandfather sent me here.”

“Really? Why did something happen?” you asked concerned. When you moved you cut ties with everyone, not hearing from anyone for the last few years.

Laurie looked down sadly at your words. You reached out to him, moving to untangle yourself from Simon when he began coughing. He bent over as he had a fit and you quickly grabbed his upper arm. 

Laurie jumped into action, grabbing his other side. “Is he alright?” He asked you.

“Yes, um can you help me get him home, it isn’t far from here,” you said, feeling Simon’s forehead and seeing he was burning up.

With a nod, you and both walked quickly towards your London home. Once inside you helped Simon into his bed, tucking him in. And getting a wet cloth to put on his forehead. You sat by his bed worriedly as he wheezed.

“I’ll wait outside,” Laurie said.

You nodded not taking your eyes off of your husband. You brushed his hair out of his face and patted his face with the cloth. “Simon you should not try to overdo it for my benefit.” You said.

“You are young. You should not have to take care of a dying husband. You should be going to shows, walking around London and exploring. You deserve it, my darling.”

“You are my husband. My best friend, I want to be here by your side,” you rebutted.

“I will feel bad if you spent your youth inside with me.”

You sighed, kissing his forehead. “Simon. I like being indoors. Reading, learning, and taking care of our home and you. I could not ask for more,” you assured him.

“That can’t be true. What about love?”

“I’ve loved and that time for my life is over.”

“You are too young to be cynical.”

“You were cynical too at my age,” you teased.

“Yes, and I was miserable until I met you. I don’t want that for you. You should have someone. Would you like a child?” He offered.

You kissed his forehead. “Simon, my best friend. I could not raise a child without you. I-I fear when you go and I don’t think having a babe to take care of will be helpful.”

“I hate that I will leave you alone.”

“You saved me from the loneliness I will be okay.”

He sighed deeply sending himself into another coughing fit. “You deserve more. You should have passion, desire, and love. What about Laurie?”

“What, Laurie?”

“Yes, he was a friend from before. He is young, unmarried, and beautiful. You could be with him… to cure the loneliness.”

“You are my husband, Simon. How could you suggest… that,” you said flushing. You and Simon had tried to consummate your marriage, but you both were too uncomfortable and decided against it.

“I am your husband in name only. I am your friend that wants good things for you. Just, don’t rule it out. Use the house and enjoy being a woman with power.” He didn’t say while it lasted but you both understood the words in the air.

“I will think about it. Now please get some rest. I’ll bring you something to eat later on,” you wiped his forehead one last time before getting up to leave.

Laurie stood against the wall across from the room. He looked up when you exit, standing up straight. “Is he alright?”

You nodded, your eyes downcast.

“What is the matter with him?” He asked gently.

You chuckled softly, but it broke into a sob. “The doctors have no idea, just that he is getting weaker each day and pretty soon he’ll be gone,” you said, covering your mouth to hold down your emotions.

You truly didn’t know what to do without Simon. The house would feel too empty, and you couldn’t return to America, you didn’t want to but you didn’t want to be alone. Laurie’s arms engulfed you and held you tightly.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he said against the shell of your ear. “I’m here,” He repeated over and over until you calm down.

You pulled away to look up at Laurie. He smiled softly at you, wiping your tears. “Theo, what happened? Why are you here?” You asked.

“I asked Jo to marry me and she rejected me,” he said, voice full of pain and sorrow.”

“Oh Theo, I am so sorry,” you said, grabbing his hand and kissing the back of it. You lead him away from Simon’s room into your own chambers and into your sitting area. “Maybe she needs time?” You suggested.

Laurie shook his head. “No, she doesn’t love me. And She never will. She didn’t see me as a potential partner, just Teddy her best friend,” He said bitterly.

You took his hand again, squeezing it sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Theo. You deserve better. It is Jo’s loss.”

He shrugged and quickly changed the subject. “Why do you have your own chambers? You two seem… so in love?”

“Simon is my best friend but there is no romantic love between us. Plus we enjoy our own space.” You said.

“Are you happy?” He asked.

“I am. I just am afraid of the happiness leaving when he dies,” you expressed.

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be here too. Like you once said to me, a shoulder to cry on. A friend to have around. I think we both could use one.”

You stared at Laurie for a while, thinking about your talk with Simon, your kiss when you were kids, and about how much you ached for passion in your life. 

“Theo, we have been burned by love. We are both grieving losses, I think we should grieve together,” you suggested, looking at him from under your lashes.

Laurie swallowed thickly, his eyes dropped to your lips. “Sharing the burden of grieve would be beneficial, healthy even,” He said, moving closer to you.

“Yes my thought exactly,” you said, your breath mixed and your heart rate spiked.

His nose bumped against yours and you both giggled softly. “I’ve never done this before,” he whispered.

“Neither have I. we can just learn together,” you said and then your lips were brushing each other. 

You are unsure which one of you deepened the kiss, but Laurie’s tongue was in your mouth and your eyes were fluttering shut.  Laurie’s hands tentatively took your waist and he pulled back softly. “Is this okay?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s okay. You can um, take off my clothes if you want.”

Laurie’s eyes widened at your suggestion but he quickly got to his feet, almost tripping over the sofa. His cheeks blazed as he giggled helping you stand as well. “Sorry, I am awfully nervous,” he confessed.

“I am too, but I trust you, Laurie,” you whispered. 

“I trust you as well,” He replied.

You both smiled at each other for a moment, before Laurie cupped your cheek and placed another kiss on your lips. He took a deep breath when he pulled away and untied your shawl.

“Umm, what should I do with this?” He asked looking around.

“Toss it on the sofa, I don’t care.”

Nodding he tossed it quickly away, moving to unbutton your front-facing corset. Each button, he was painstakingly slow and you were just about to scream when he tossed it aside as well.  Laces, knots, bows, and fabric were taken off your body until you stood in front of him in just your slip.

Laurie grabbed the bottom, but you stopped him. “Wait,” you said, your heart racing. Laurie froze, staring at you with big doe eyes.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No, Theo, just. I want to see you. It’s odd being the only one naked.”

“Of course of course,” he said, quickly removing his layers of coat, vest, and undershirt. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly he removed his own clothes. Laurie narrowed his eyes playfully at you. “Something amusing?”

“Yes. You Mr. Laurence.”

“Well I aim to entertain,” he bowed before moving to remove his pants, quickly causing your laughter to die down and your mouth to dry up.

Once undressed completely, Laurie grabbed your hips with purpose, rubbing his thumbs into your hip bones. You shivered and quickly grabbed his hand and led him to your bedroom.

“Lay down,” he said, before climbing on top of you. His hands moved to the bottom of your slip and with a little nod from you he pulled it over your head. You laid bare before him and your hands moved to cover your breast, but he was already leaning down and pressing burning kisses to them. 

“You are beautiful, you don’t have to hide from me. It’s Theo. Your Theo, your friend, relax,” he said, though his own voice shook. The words were probably meant for both of your benefits.

His lips traced the curve of your right breast before, his tongue circled your nipple. He watched you closely, gauging your reactions to see what you liked and didn’t like. Your eyes closed and you sucked in a sharp breath.

A pulse between your legs had you trying to close them, but Laurie was already between and your legs just squeezed his sides. He groaned switching to your own breast giving it the same treatment.

“I heard that it hurts for women the first time, I don’t wish to hurt you,” He said, pushing two fingers into his mouth soaking them before letting them drag down your body before reaching your most private parts.

“I know, it’s okay.”

“Tell me if something hurts too much.”

You nodded and then his two fingers were inside of you. You gasped which caused you to tighten around his fingers. The pressure was weird, but nothing was overly painful. “Go on,” you mumbled.

Laurie’s fingers moved slowly at first, just barely kissing your tight walls, but the more he worked them inside of you the wetter you became. The room was loud with the little gasp and moan you released and the wet sounds of his fingers inside of you.

You relaxed more, opening your legs wider as the awkward feeling gave way to pleasure. Your moans grew louder and you humped against his hand. Laurie pulled his fingers away and you whined.

“Eager?” He teased, wrapping one of your legs around his waist. The other, he slid the wet fingers from your inner thigh to your calf. You shivered again. 

“Don’t tease me The- Heavens,” you closed your eyes as he pushed into you. You whimpered feeling tears in your eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Are you all the way in?” 

Laurie frowned shaking his head. You were sweating and he pushed away the hair sticking to your forehead. “Just a bit more,”

“Is it normal to be so big?” You questioned.

He bit his lip to hide his smile, but his shoulder pulled back and you knew you just stroked his ego. 

“Just push it all in and then give me a moment.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned.

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes waiting for the pain but instead, Laurie didn’t move and his lips were on yours again. Your eyes opened in confusion but you kissed him back eagerly. His soft lips mold into yours and you started to feel pleasure again. 

With your distracted, Laurie slowly pushed inch by inch inside of you until he had bottomed out. You whined into his mouth, but Laurie stroked over your sides again and kissed all over your face.

“Let me know when it’s okay to move,” his voice was tight and strained, it was taking everything in him to be still and not hurt you.

You felt so incredibly full and you were completely surrounded by Laurie, his smell, and just him. Your heart hammered against your ribcage and you looked up at him, your eyes met and you smiled nodding.

And then he pulled back slowly and thrust back in quickly. Laurie moaned, your name falling from his lips. You moaned, arching against him.

“Theo, more.”

Your affair with Laurie lasted longer than you thought it would. It went from two friends grieving over lost loves to something more. Something that felt close to love and you couldn’t love Laurie.

No, you loved a friend before and it ruined your friendship. Plus Laurie loved Jo, she was who he thought of when you two were together. And even though it’s been years, your love for Amy still burned bright. And most importantly you were married.

Even if Simon had encouraged an affair, he was still very much alive, and sleeping with someone else was one thing, but falling in love was a different thing. It felt like a betrayal and you couldn’t handle it; So you had to break things off before you were too deep in.

“Theo,” you started one night as he held you close in his arms in your bed. Your head rested on his chest and his heartbeat was almost enough to put you to sleep, but you held on. “Have you answered any of Jo’s letters?”

He tensed at her name but only for a moment before relaxing and placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “No. I haven’t even read any.”

“Do you plan to?” You asked, looking up at him.

He sighed, moving until your faces were close together, his nose bumping against yours with every breath. “Why do you ask?  Are you thinking about writing to Amy?”

“No. Amy does not want to hear from me.”

“I don’t believe that. You are her best friend. She was heartbroken when you left,” he said, rubbing his nose into your cheek, kissing your neck. “What did you two fight about anyways?”

He had asked you plenty of times but you never answered. You couldn’t tell him about her feelings, a fear you refused to acknowledge that maybe they were perfect for each other and he would seek her out and you’ll lose both of them.

 “Girl things,” you replied.

He groaned, biting your jaw. “Why won’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” you breathed.

“Tell me, my love.”

You froze at the pet name and Laurie noticed. He quickly pulled back to stare at your face. Neither of you spoke as you stared. You two had been sleeping together for months. Currently naked and pressed up against each other, but the pet name was so softly spoken, so intimate. The intimacy slowly worked its way up your throat, choking you.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why that slipped out. I-I. I’m sorry,” he said, moving to kiss you, but you moved away, sitting up.

“I think we should stop this,” you said.

Laurie sat up as well. “Stop this? Stop what?”

“This Theo. Us sleeping together. It is not doing either of us any good. Using each other to get over the March sisters, it’s wrong. And unhealthy.”

“How is it wrong, we are both adults, consenting and we are friends helping each other out.”

“I am married, Laurie.”

“You were married when we started. You were fine with it then, what has changed?” He asked, reaching for you, but you got out of bed and pulled on your nightgown.

“I just can’t anymore it isn’t helping anyone. You love Jo and I love Amy.”

“I don’t love Jo,” he stated.

You turned to him blinking. “Since when?”

“I don’t think I have ever loved Jo. Or maybe never in love with her.”

You scoffed. “You loved her only months ago. You have already tossed that love aside.” This is why you didn’t want to love him. He was always fickle.

“Jo was someone I was close to. Someone that I latched into when I had no one. I wanted love and the idea of loving Jo was perfect. So I told myself I loved her and now I know it was not true romantic love I had for her.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You had to look away from him. “You come too often, people might talk and I can’t do that to Simon.”

“I’ll come less. Or come in through the back.”

“No, Theo. We are spending too much time together. You should be focusing on school and your music. You said you were struggling with operas. You should work on that.”

“Why are you pushing me away? Have I done something?” His ask was pitiful and depressing and you hated yourself a little bit for it.

“We have been in a web in my room and it is time to move on. You must prepare for graduation and life and I need to take care of my husband. Not abandon him for an affair with some man.”

“Some man? Is that all I am to you?”

You turned to face him then. “I meant no offense, Laurie. I just think our fun should end before things get too deep and we ruin things between us.”

Laurie was silent for a bit. He stared at you long and hard. You grew uncomfortable, wrapping your arms around your chest and looking away from him.  He sighed heavily. “Very well. Take care,” he dressed quickly with you watching him.

He laced his boots and stood in front of you. “I mean it, take care of yourself.”

You nodded, too overtaken by emotions to speak.

He stood another minute in front of you before exiting your room.

Your vision blurred just thinking about that day. Laurie never replied to any of your letters, never return to your house, and the gift you sent for his graduation, he returned it. You blinked away the tears, clearing your throat. 

Simon died only a few weeks later and you were too busy to think about Laurie and all your confusing feelings. It was one thing to love Amy, another to love Laurie, but to love both?

You thought of your mother’s harsh words and maybe she was right, there was something wrong with you. Something broken that you loved so easily and at the same time.

Being home made you think about it too much and while you were still free from your mother, in Europe, you couldn’t stay home and be sad and wallow.  Simon would not want that and you didn’t want it. So you traveled and that brought you to Paris.

The people were vibrant and friendly and the food was to die for.  You felt like a child again with all the wonder you had.  You loved it and you wanted to stay the whole season. 

Humming a song you missed the first time someone said your name, but as they grew closer and louder you looked up to see Aunt March, Amy, and Laurie. Your eyes connected with Laurie’s first but he quickly looked away and Amy smiled softly but refused to hold your eyes either.

With just left Aunt March. She narrowed her eyes at you. “What’s the matter, girl? Move to Europe and forgot your manners?” Aunt March questioned.

Flushing, you stood up and smiled as warmly as possible at them. “Hello there. Forgive me, Aunt March. It is lovely to see you.” You turned to Amy and Laurie. “Hello.”

Laurie moved first pulling you into an awkward half-hug. His breath was strong with alcohol and you coughed slightly. “It is nice to see you again, Theo,” you said. The words sound painful to your own ears.

“Is it?” He questioned. “ If you all would excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” And then Laurie walked off.

You stared after him in shock. You knew you two had left things awkward and tense, but you didn’t expect the coldness from him. Laurie was never harsh, with anyone, especially not you.

 A hand on your elbow had you turning to face Amy. Your breath caught slightly as you took her in. It’s been years since you last saw her and she was more breathtaking than ever. 

“You will have to ignore Laurie, he is going through a phase of being an overgrown child,” she said, but she smiled softly at you.  “Hello, stranger,” she said.

“Hello, Amy,” you said, a bit breathlessly. You felt foolish you had grown, married, and fallen for someone else, yet Amy still made you feel warm inside.

You two stared at each other for a moment before Aunt March groaned. “Speak you two,” She said, shaking her head and walking away mumbling about how annoying children were these days.

You both laughed as you watched her walk away. “She never changed, does she?” You said looking at Amy.

“No, I’m afraid she has only gotten meaner with age.”

You both laughed once more. Until you both slowly broke off and stared at one another until Amy spoke up.

“I’m sorry about our fight. And then ignoring you, but how could you just marry and leave?” She said, pouting.

You hugged her then, squeezing her tightly. “I’m sorry about our fight, I was so rude to you. And I’m sorry for leaving.”

“And not writing or inviting me to the wedding,” she added, hugging you back.

“Yes for not writing or inviting you to the wedding,” you chuckled, breathing in the scent you loved most.

“All is forgiven, sweet girl, but you can’t do that anymore. I’ve been miserable without you,” Amy said, taking your hand and squeezing it.

You squeezed her hand back. “I’ve been miserable without my best friend as well.”

“Now that we have made up, tell me about your husband. Has he been kind to you? Do you have children? Oh my gosh, you do don’t you? You have children and they don’t even know me,” she whined, but there was also something else in her voice you couldn’t decipher.

“Amy, take a breath,” you teased, grabbing your book as you two walked around the park. “My husband, Simon.. he was a very good man, but he sadly passed on.”

She gasped, turning to face you with a face painted in sorrow. “I am so sorry to hear that. You are still so young to lose a husband. He wasn’t that old.”

“It was a sickness that took him quickly. Healthy one day and coughing up blood the next. I was happy to try to make his last days the best for him. He grew to be my closest friend.”

“I am glad you were not in a bad marriage, but I am sorry about you having to lose him.” Amy pulled you into a side hug.

You hugged back. “And we didn’t have children. With Simon getting sick it was best that way. I could not imagine raising them alone.”

“I suppose that is the best solution. Did you love him?” She asked.

“Yes. In a way that made us both happy.”

She furrowed her eyes at your comment but didn’t press. “So tell me what brought you here?”

“I came for the art, the culture, the people,” you smiled. “Why did you come?”

“For you,” she said, glancing shyly over at you. “You learned French when you were younger and you always talked about coming here and when Aunt March asked me to tour Europe with her, I knew I had to come here. See all the things we talked about.”

Your heart squeezed at her words and you smiled softly at her words. You wished for nothing more than to kiss her but you were in public. Amy's eyes bore into your own and the same desire filled her eyes. But you reminded yourself of her words, that the kisses meant nothing. They were just practiced.

“I’ve missed you so much, Amy,” you said.

“I’ve missed you as well. With you gone, I felt a part of me was missing. I was an awful friend. Too vain sometimes for my own good. I won’t excuse my actions, but if you give me the chance, I want to make it up to you. Be a better friend.”

“I would very much like to be your friend again.”

“Good. Now there is a ball tonight. I would love for you to attend with me. It will be fun, with drinks, dancing, and music. It will be wonderful. Say you will come?”

“I will be there, Amy. I promise.”

The ball was…well it was a ball fit for the French elite and while you have been a part of the elites before you never felt completely comfortable around them. Your dress was bright and made you stand out too much and you wished to hide in a corner.

You felt like a child once again force at a party by your mother. You searched the crowd for Amy and sighed and relief when you saw her. Luckily, she saw you at the same moment and made her way over to you.

“Oh, you look beautiful. Well, you always look beautiful but this is your color,” she gushed, having your ears and face burn at the compliments.

“Thank you, Amy. You look radiant as well. The center of the party,” you said, then leaned closer. “Everyone has eyes on you.”

She blushed. “Well, that is Fred’s doing.”

“Fred?”

“Fred Vaugh. We met him at the beach once, an old friend of the Laurence’s. We are in a courtship,” she explained.

Your face fell slightly at her words, but what did you expect? For her to love you to wait for you when you left and married. “That’s wonderful, Amy,” you said.

Amy looked around the room for a moment before grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the party. You both walked into you were outside in a beautiful garden. “Everyone might have their eyes on me, but mine are on you,” she said.

“Fred is a nice man but I want to be with you tonight, check-up, talk to my sweet girl,” she pulled you to the ground into a space covered by bushes so no one would see you too.

“What about the ball? And your dress, it will be ruined.”

“First, Laurie drunkenly showing up ruined the ball for me and second, you are much more important and worth a ruined dress.”

“What is going on with Laurie?” In London, he was saddened by the rejection of Jo, but he wasn’t drinking and behaving as Amy mentioned.

“It has to be the heartbreak. He’s just a mess. We had seen a lot of each other in Paris and he was getting better, I thought at least, but then he went to London and his letters seemed as if he was better and happier. And then he came back like this. Drunk all the time, making stupid comments.” She mumbled the last part as she patted down her dress.

You smiled, knocking your shoulder against hers. “Tell me about your art, Amy. Tell me about the new Amy?” 

You and Amy spent the whole night pressed up together and catching up with each other. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you. While you had married and grown, Amy had matured into a woman with a kind heart, determination, and passion.

It was amazing to see how much she changed and you could listen to hear her talk all day along. She leaned against you laughing at a story you told about your wedding day with Simon.

“I cannot see you doing that?” She said between gasping breaths.

“I did. I did. I was not going to wear so awful dress all day and if they refused to let me change I would make them. So I set the dress on fire, while still wearing it.”

“Oh, you have lost your mind. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. That is something that would make Jo very happy.”

You laugh along with her. “How is Jo?” You asked.

Her laughter died down a bit and she shrugged. “She is the same Jo I suppose. She is upset with me for coming here, upset with Laurie for ignoring her, and the world for treating her horribly for being born a woman.”

“Laurie will come around. And we can’t fault her for the last. We know the drawback we have to face for being women.”

“We all know it, but complaining and making things worse is not the way to go about it. We must find ways to be ourselves. To enjoy life within the binds. Wiggle and loosen them slowly. Any other way does more harm than good.”

“Wise-words. You really have grown, Amy March.”

“I have. I know I seem proper and happy with my station in society but I know that it is a man’s world and nothing will ever be mine. My life is not my own and never will be, it’s frustrating but if I want to take care of my family, I must play the part.”

You grabbed her hand. “And if you didn’t- if you didn’t have to play a part what would you do? What is your dream?”

Amy looked at you. “I would like to be happy be with someone that I love who loves me. I want to paint be a true artist and make my own money. I want so much, I want that dream we had as children. I want-” You cut her off by kissing her.

You thought she would pull away, but instead, she placed her hand on the side of your face and kissed you back, deeply and full of emotions. You kissed until you needed to break away to breathe air in your lungs.

“I-I’m sorry, Amy. I don’t know what came over me,” you said, looking down. You fan your cheeks as they burned and you looked around making sure no one was looking.

Amy grabbed your hand, shaking her head. “No, please don’t apologize. I wanted to kiss you since the moment I saw you, maybe since the day we fought. I am sorry for the words I spoke. I.. kissing you was never practice. Or maybe it started as such, but it was a comfort.”

She paused moving so she sat in front of you. She took both of your hands and placed them in your lap. Your heart fought to leave your chest and your whole body felt as if it was being pricked.

“You were my best friend. You are my best friend and I like being with you. I love spending time with you, laughing, reading, and kissing you. I didn’t understand what it meant. What you were to me,” she looked down at her hands. “But then realized that I missed you like Marmee misses father.”

You bit your lips, holding your breath as you waited for her to finish talking, but instead, she bit her lip and began to cry softly. With furrowed brows, you moved closer hugging her to your chest. “What’s wrong, Amy? Don’t cry, please. You know it will make me cry too,” you said.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it, it’s just. I love you and it is unfair that we can not be together. It is unfair that we can’t do anything about it. We are women and I have duties to uphold and I’ll never be happy.” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking and her breathing grew erratically.

“Amy, you must calm down. You know you get worked up so easily, you could pass out, calm, Amy. Calm, I’m here. I have you,” you patted the back of her head and held her close until she slowly stop crying.

“Are you alright now?” You asked pulling back to regard her face.

She frowned adorably nodding, wiping her eyes as embarrassment settled in. “Yes, I am sorry for losing it like that. And springing feels onto you. It was wrong of me.”

You smiled, cupping her face and brushing away the rest of your tears. “Don’t be sorry for having emotions or expressing them. I will never fault you for it,” you said, kissing her softly.

She kissed you back, breaking away after a few moments. “I should not have expressed my feelings because if you return them, there is nothing we can do about it, and if not, I could make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh Amy March, I have loved you my whole life,” you giggled, pecking her lips.

“Don’t say that. I will only make me sadder.”

“But we love each other, is that not good news.”

“If one of us is a man, but I must marry Fred,” she said miserably.

“But why? I have my own money we can live together, happily.”

“Because marrying  Fred is what is expected of me, and must do it for my family. I am sorry.”

You shook your head, squeezing her hand. “I am not upset with you. I understand doing what you have to do for your family.”

“Can we still spend time together like now, until I marry?” She asked.

“We can spend all the time you would like, Amy,” You assured her.

You went to your lodging that night with only thoughts of Amy and how you must be dreaming. She loved you. Amy loved you back. You knew the sneaking around was not ideal, and that you wanted more with her, but you would take whatever you could get.

But your mind thought about the women you read about as a child. The women who  lived together and were happy, but family meant something to Amy. Her family was her life and you didn’t have it in you to take her away from them.

Just as you were about to slip into unconsciousness another thought came to mind. Another person, Laurie. You didn’t see him the whole party, you were sure he was avoiding you which hurt. You were worried about your feelings for him and your feelings for Amy. You fell asleep with guilt heavy on your mind, for loving them both.

Over the next few weeks, you spend as much time with Amy as you could. You two were either in the park, her drawing and you reading, or walking around giggling close together. The only time you spent away from her was the time she spent with Laurie.

The guilt of loving them both only was overshadowed by the jealousy of knowing they were together without you. You wanted to be with Laurie, talking like you used to, or spend all the time with Laurie. You were growing sick of the headaches you were causing yourself, but it came to a head when you overheard Amy and Laurie together.

“Do you love him?” Laurie asked her softly.

“Love him? Do you mean Fred?” She asked.

“Is there another man in your life that you love?” He asked.

Amy’s eyes flickered to his at his words. She loved Laurie. She didn’t want to, she tried her whole life not to, but she did. She loved him as easily as she loved you.  “I don’t love Fred,” she concluded.

“Then don’t marry him.”

“Oh, Laurie why shouldn’t I marry him? He is kind and he has enough money to take care of me, my family, and my future family.”

“But you do not love him.”

“We already had this conversation, Laurie.”

“No. I mean he does not love you either. So you should marry me,” he said.

“Marry- marry you? Laurie, why would you say that wh-why?” Amy closed her notebook and stood up shaking her head.

“Please Amy, I’ll treat you better than him. I can take care of you and your family. I can make you happy.” 

“Laurie stop it. Just stop it. You are hurting and raw because of Jo, but that does not give you the right to be mean to me.”

“Mean? I am not being mean. I am serious, Amy. I want you to marry me. We can be happy together,” He moved closer, taking her arms. “We have spent so much time together in the last few months and I think I could make you happy. I want to try,”

“Try? No no. Laurie, how dare you? After I spent my whole life loving you. I’ve been second to Jo in everything and now I am to be second to her with you? No, I refuse. I won’t settle for second place.”

“So you rather marry someone you don’t love?”

“Yes, I rather be respected if I can’t be loved.”

“You can have both with me,” he shrugged. 

“I can’t. And I don’t want to see you anymore.” And then she was running out of the studio. She bumped into you with tears running down her face.

“Oh, d-d-did you hear?” She said, face flushed and hands twitching.

“I did. Amy, what’s wrong? Why did Laurie’s words upset you so much,” you said softly, already knowing the answer. She all but said she still loved him.

She wiped her eyes. “It is not what you think?” She said at once.

“It would be okay if it was,” you said.

She shook her head. “No. No, it won’t be. No. I don’t love Laurie, not after everything,” she said.

“Shush, my dove. Let me walk you home,” you said taking her arm. 

She nodded, looping her arm through yours.

The walk was quiet, with Amy sniffling every few moments. You were too in your own head to really think about making conversation. The idea of Amy and Laurie marrying was heavy on your mind. They would be a perfect couple and Amy deserve love, but not from Laurie, not if he was using her to get over Jo.

When it was with you, you didn’t fault him. You both agreed to enjoy each other, it was mutual and your falling for him was not his fault, but Amy, she did care about him, she loved him and deserved more than a husband that loved her sister.

After walking Amy home you sent a letter to where Laurie was staying demanding his presence.  You were steaming as you waited for him. Your leg bounced with anger as you sat trying to read your novel, but all you could think about what that selfish man.

The moment you heard a knock on the door you were out of your seat. You throw the door open and pulled Laurie into the room. You stood across from him with one hand on your hip glaring at him.

“You’ve invited me here to glare at me?” He asked confused.

“What are you doing with Amy?” You said at the same time.

Laurie’s eyes widened slightly and he moved deeper into the room. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Asking her to marry you? Are you trying to hurt her? Ruin her life?”

“What? No of course not. I was just trying to help her. I-I grew deep feelings for her,” he said. He looked towards the ground, only glancing up at you to see your reaction. While Laurie was not lying about his feelings for Amy, he loved you all the same.

It was spending time together in London that made him realize that he felt only friendship and familial love for Jo. The feelings he got for you were deeper and stronger than anything he ever thought was possible. He loved you with his soul. And he wanted to express his feeling to you, wanted to ask you to marry him when Simon died, but you broke things off and broke his heart first.

“So you have just grown feelings for Amy?” You questioned.

“Of course. I didn’t plan to but I have. I want to make her happy.”

“Fred can do that.”

“Fred can’t offer her happiness. And if I marry her you can still be in her life. You two can still care for each other.”

You blinked at him in shock. “You know about us?”

“I’ve always known. Have you forgotten? Amy might not have known when we were children about  her feelings for you, but I saw them.”

“But you didn’t see hers for you?” You scoffed.

“No, I just assumed she only had eyes for you.”

You scoffed again, but then again you never saw her feelings for you, only her eyes for Laurie. “So you’ve known about our feelings for each other and still tried to marry her.”

“I am not trying to take her away from you. What do you think I am trying to do.”

“I don’t know. I can’t see you falling in love with Amy when you have been a drunk mess in her words.”

“I’ve gotten better. I’ve spent time with her and I see her for the wonderful person she is. I want more for her and with her.”

“Ah, so it seems you are just working your way through us all Theodore. Shall I write to Brooke’s and warn him that his wife is in danger or sweet Beth.”  

“Don’t. You know it isn’t like that.”

“I obviously know nothing about who you are.”

“How could you say that? You know me, better than most.”

“No, I don’t. I know nothing about you and your fickle feelings.” 

“You know I didn’t love Jo. I thought I did I thought what I felt for her was love true deep love but it wasn’t. But you-“ he paused and moved closer to you but you took a step away from him.

He threw his hands up. “I love you. Whether you let me say it or not. I love you. Deeper than I loved anyone in my life entire life.”

You scoffed, “And Amy? Is she just a toy for you to use? Someone to run to when you can’t have who you want.” 

“I love her too. As I love you; with my whole being.” Laurie walked towards you this time and didn’t stop as you took steps back.  “I love you as you, Amy as Amy, and both of you with every fiber of my soul.”

“Always a poet, Mr. Laurence,” you scoffed. You didn’t want to hear this. 

“I love you both. Worship the grounds you walk on.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart. “You know I am telling the truth.”

You looked away from him, feeling your heart quicken and your face heat. “And why is that?” You whispered.

He cupped your cheek making you turn back to face him. He smiled softly leaning closer until your nose bumped. “Because I know you feel the same for us as well. I know you love Amy It’s why you ran away to get married because you love her and…and it’s why you sent me away in London, because you love me.”

“Theo. So you’ve just decided that I love you,” you said softly.

“I wasn’t sure. I was hurt after you ended things, it wrecked me. Amy was not lying when she told you how bad I’ve been, but it wasn’t Jo that broke my heart, it was you. And I’ve avoided you since you arrived here. It was wrong and I felt awful as I started to fall for Amy, but the moment I walked into the room. I realized you are not just upset for Amy but because of her.”

You scoffed again, but you couldn’t deny his words when he was telling the truth to your face.

“You don’t believe I love Amy and you didn’t believe that I could love you, but I do.  love you. I love Amy. And I want us all to be happy and together, is that too much to asked?”

“It is asking the impossible and you know it. That is not the world we live in.”

“Screw the world we make our own rules we have the money to go anywhere and be who we wish to be. All you have to do is let yourself have what you want.”

“I can not.”

“Why? Why can’t you? You have never been one to be so afraid unless you don’t love me. Have I gotten that wrong?”

You said nothing.

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave and never bring this up again. Tell me your heart does not beat for me and I’ll leave you alone,” Laurie begged, his hands reaching on either side of your face, staring deeply into your eyes.

You feel tears run down your face. “Of course, I love you, Laurie. Goodness, I love you so much. I had to send you away. Every day I was falling more and more in love with you. Every night in your arms I wished for that to be our life forever.”

Laurie smiled widely, his eyes lighting up, shining with pure happiness. He kissed you so softly and sweetly that you felt light-headed. You kiss back in earnest, putting your hands on top of his that still resided on your face.

“W-What is going on in here?” A broken voice said causing you both to pull apart in shock to see Amy standing in the now-open doorway.

“Amy,” you gasped, dropping your hands from Laurie’s face.

“Amy it is not what it appears to be,” Laurie said and you could have slapped him in the face. Of course, it was what it appeared to be but he was not helping.

It seemed Amy shared your sentiment because she scoffed narrowing her eyes at you both. “Not what it looks like? You two were kissing and I heard you expressing your love to each other.”

“Amy please, let us explain,” you pleaded.

“Explain what? How the two people that claim they never want to hurt me, who want to see me happy are doing the exact thing they swear they wouldn’t,”

“Amy it is not like that,” Laurie said, moving closer to her. “I meant what I said earlier, I do care about you. I love you and wish to marry you.”

She shook her head and looked away from him to look at you. “And you? How could you do this to me? And with Laurie of all people.”

“Amy no, please. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t, goodness, just let us explain.”

“Explain then.” Amy crossed her arms and stared at you both.

You glanced at Laurie, but he looked incredibly frightened to say anything. You sighed, “I had an affair with Laurie in London,” You started shutting your eyes as Amy gasped in horror.

“It wasn’t a bad one,” Laurie chimed in, “She was lonely and I was and we needed comforting.

“Your poor husband,” Amy said shaking her head.

“He knew about it. It was his idea. He just wanted me to be happy to experience life. I was hurting from losing you and about to lose another best friend and Laurie was there. I didn’t mean to fall in love with him, it just happened. So I broke things off when my feelings grew too down.”

“And That is when Laurie came back to Paris, depressed. Because he loved you and you hurt him.” Amy then laughed bitterly turning to glare sadly at Laurie. “So for you, I am a third option. Can’t have Jo, can’t have her, so you’ll settle for me?”

“No no. Amy that isn’t true. I never loved Jo. It is the two of you I love so much. I was hurt by her ending things and I came back because you are my friend and you always know how to cheer me up and then I realized I was falling for you as well.”

“You love us both? That is preposterous. You can not love us both.” 

“Oh come on Amy, stop lying to yourself. You lied to me early, you love Theo. You always have.”

Her eyes stretched and she stuttered but nothing comprehensible came out. She stared between the two of you before looking away. “I am leaving,” she stated.

“No. You can’t leave, Amy please,’ Laurie said, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

She flinched away glaring at him. “No, you don’t get to tell me. Neither of you do. I can not do this with you, Either of you. I am marrying Fred, I won’t be involved with whatever you two are doing.”

“So you choose him? Why? You love me. You love Laurie. You said you wanted a way for us to be together in this society and to take care of your family. Laurie is the solution. You can marry him and not Fred. It will be perfect.”

“It will be a sham. I won’t have an affair with you while married. I told you that.”

“It won’t be an affair, we would be married, yes, but we will all be in a relationship. The marriage is one of love, but also one of show, so we can be ourselves and not be condemned.” Laurie stressed.

“No. You both lied to me and now you want me to marry you and we are to live happily ever after?” She cried.

“Lied to you? I never lied to you, Amy,” you stated.

“You knew why Laurie was acting strange. You never mentioned your relationship with him, Not ever after what you overheard today. And you Laurie, let me go on and on about Jo knowing it was not Jo who had broken your heart. I thought it was odd you both were avoiding each other, I thought it was to due that kiss as children but I see it was more. I feel like such a fool. You both toyed with me. Is that it? You both couldn’t have each other so went after me?”

“Of course, not, Amy. We would never?” Laurie said.

“We are sorry, Amy. We meant you no harm. We talked about all of us being together,” you added.

“Without me? Because Amy will get go along. Amy is a follower. Amy is desperate for the both of you she’ll do anything.”

“Stop putting words in our mouths. Amy, I understand you are hurt. I shouldn’t have kissed Laurie with our relationship going, I am truly sorry, but please don’t marry Fred when this is the perfect option, where we all can be happy.”

“I don’t want it. This life you two are offering. Not after hurting me. I am going to marry Fred and I wish to never see either of you again.”

You gasped and Laurie looked close to tears. “Amy you can’t mean that. You’ll just throw away our plans, our love, and friendship,” you questioned.

“You did the moment you decide to keep things from me.”

“You are behaving like a child.”

“No, I am being a responsible adult unlike the two of you,” she said walking to the door.

“Amy please don’t walk away from us. We love you, we can be happy. We can travel, get a house and live happily,” Laurie begged.

“No thank you. You two should live happily together. It is what you both deserved,” she spat.

“Fine. Go marry Fred, enjoy your life of being respected and playing by society’s rule,” You said.

“I will.”

“If you won’t marry me, then we’ll marry. Move to Italy and have a life together,” Laurie said taking your hand.

Amy glanced at you both and then at your joint hands. Rivers of tears ran down her pretty cheeks, breaking both your and Laurie’s heart. “Then so be it,” she whispered then left the room.

Amy could barely see as she ran as fast as she could back to the home she was staying in with Aunt March. She always knew she couldn’t have Laurie and one day she would have to give you up and possibly watch you fall in love with someone else, but the idea of you both already loving each other tore her in half.

She was scared and hurt and she couldn’t fathom the offer, which she knew was a good one, but her pain was too raw for her to see that. She ran to her room and threw herself into her bed sobbing her heart out.

Her tears ran down her face for hours until she was too numb to sob and her tears all cried out. She thought about just days earlier when she was happy when she was wrapped up in her love and fantasy future.

“I have never had any sort of, you know before,” Amy flushed bright red. You both were inside your bedroom. You two kissed for hours and when your hands wandered to her waist causing her to flush and pull away.

“Oh, Amy we do not have to do any of that, I just like being with you,” you said, leaning closer to capturing her lips.

She kissed back before pulling away. “Does it work the same way as with a man?” She asked curiously.

“I wouldn’t know. I have never been with another woman. You are the only woman I’ve ever had eyes for,” you chuckled. “I think it would be different considering... Um, the differences.”

“I am not sure I know how it works with men. Meg tried to explain it once, but it freaked me out,” she said embarrassed.

“It freaked me out as well. My mother made me read a book about it, said it was to prepare me for my  wedding night,” you explained.

“Was it painful? With Simon?” She asked.

“My first time was not as painful as I thought. I enjoyed it,” you said. Laurie was incredibly gentle and you were forever grateful for it.

“I do not want my first sexual experience to be with Fred. Can we try something, I want it to be with someone I love.”

You nodded. “We can learn and explore together,” you said, getting off the bed to remove your clothes, you could hear Amy doing the same. By the time you were done, you turned around to see Amy with her hair down, covering her chest.

You grinned getting back into bed and crawling to be in front of her. “Don’t cover up, you are beautiful,” you said, kissing her forehead.

“Don’t make me blush,” she whined.

“I like seeing you blush,” you said, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the bed with you. You laid her down and hovered over her. “I love you, Amy,”

“ I love you, sweet girl,” she said, kissing you again. The kiss quickly grew hungrier and hungrier and you bit her lower lip causing her to moan and arch against you. Causing her core to rub against yours.

You both moan and quickly fell into a rhythm of upward and downward grinds to chase after that feeling. Your kiss grew sloppy as you both moaned and got lost in the pleasure.

“Something happening, it’s building, what is it?” she asked.

“It’s okay, it will feel good,” you said. You quickly moved one of your hands between you both, rubbing the little button you knew would make her see stars. Amy gasped, her hips moving quicker. 

“Yes, please that feels amazing. Don’t stop sweet girl don’t stop,” she begged.

“Never,” you said, attaching your lips to one of her nipples.

When Amy came it was with a loud moan of your name and her thighs squeezing together. Her eyes rolled back in her hand and her nose wrinkled in the most Amy way possible.

You moaned grinding faster against her spamming body until you reached your own peak, your lips coming down on hers. “I love you, Amy, so much. Always.”

“I love you too, my sweet girl.”

You moved to lay by her side, pulling her close. Your chin rested on her shoulder and your hands were around her waist. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“I wish there was a way we could be together, A way for everything to work out for us. I want us,” she whispered.

You dropped a kiss to her shoulder, tightening your hold around her. “Maybe one day.”

“I hope sooner rather than later. I want to be with you forever.”

You hummed softly, “Like we said when we were younger. When we said we would run away together?”

She giggled turning around in your arms. “Yes, like that. We can go anywhere in the world. Be like those women you once told me about.”

“I would like that very much.”

“Me too.”

“You rejected Fred? Amy, I thought you were the smart one of your sisters,” Aunt March huffed the moment Amy walked into the room. It was only days after her fight with the two of you. The ache she felt without you both was hard to ignore. She’s always had one of you in her life and it was strange to know you both were gone. That she forced you out of her life.

 “He has money, a good head on his shoulder and you reject him,” Aunt March continued to rant. “It makes no sense. Have you fallen ill with something or are you just stupid?”

Amy ignored her as she took a seat on the sofa. She started down at her hands. Her bare hands. Fred’s ring was beautiful. The life he was offering was beautiful, perfect, and everything she always hoped for. At least that is what she thought she wanted.

He was nice enough. He would be a good husband, a good provider, and a father. He would grow to love her because, as much as he claimed he did, he did not love her. And she could even grow to love him, but it wouldn’t be the sort of love Meg had with John, her parents had with each other. The love you and Laurie had for each other, had for her.

“Honestly, Amy. You were supposed to help your sisters out. Take care of them, they need the money. Instead, you ruin a good thing, and for what reason, hmm?”

“Aunt March,” Amy said cutting her off, “Why did you never marry?”

Aunt March stuck up her nose and turned her head away from her slightly. “I didn’t have to. I had money. I didn’t waste it away like some people.”

Amy took a deep breath to ignore the obvious comment about her family. “Yes but did you never want to marry? Meet someone you wanted to be with? You’ve never been in love.”

“Amy tell me you are not burdened with love?” She said as if she was speaking about a terminal illness.

“Have you, Aunt March?” Amy asked desperately.

Aunt March looked at Amy. Really looked at her and saw what she knew will be there. A sad young woman in love. A look she once saw in a mirror. She sighed deeply, before turning to Amy completely.

“Josephine might have been named after me, but you are the most like me, Amy,” she said softer than Amy had ever heard her speak. Her face was one of sadness and regret, sorrow and pain.

“I loved once. Someone, so deeply I feel them in my bones. I knew them by smell alone. Their foot pattern and their breathing. I was young when we met and it was like love at first sight as dramatic as the term is, it applied.”

“What happened why didn’t you marry?” Amy asked, leaning forward and hanging onto her every word.

“Because I am like you, Amy,” she said.

“Like me?”

“Times were harsher than now. You can live in Europe with a close friend and not get so many looks. Women are choosing to not marry and single women together don’t raise too many looks. And the Laurance boy would protect you both.”

Amy’s eyes widened slightly at both Aunt March’s confession and her knowing about her feelings for both Laurie and you.

“Oh don’t give me that look, Amy March. It is obvious by the way you three of you are together. She has been in love with you forever, and you with Laurie, and now the three of you are whatever you are. I thought you would never act on it. That you would marry Fred and have that life. This choice you are making Amy does not come easy. While it is more of a norm here, it doesn’t mean it is not without issues.”

“But I love them and I don’t care. I want to be happy. I want happiness and them. Money and pretty things, being content and taking care of the family, it’s nothing if I can’t have them,” Amy sobbed, “But I ruined things. They hurt me and I hurt them, and it’s awful and messy, but it is what I want. I want to fight with them, make up with them, cry, and love with them.”

“And what about your family? Your sisters?” 

“It is not my job to take care of them. I know I am being selfish, but I get to be selfish with my life do I not? I must live for myself and be happy. I love my sisters and I will try to help and support them. I will get a job teaching or selling my work.”

“Hmm.”

“What. Say something.”

“Both of them are quite well off.”

“I am not going to be with them for their money.”

“No no, but their money is a plus,” Aunt March, grasped both of Amy’s hands. “I will help your sisters, you should go. Be the strong Amy that you’ve grown into, and the whimsical, romantic Amy you have always been. The Brave March, I was not.”

Amy reached over and threw her arms around Aunt March’s shoulder. “Oh Aunt March, who knew you were such a softie,” Amy said kissing her cheeks, laughing as Aunt March groaned and tried to pull away.

“Yes yes, just keep it to yourself,” she said, patting her cheek. “Now, you have two people to go see.”

Amy pulled away grinning widely. “Yes, I do.”

You walked hand and hand with Laurie down the street in Italy. Neither of you happy to be in the city you two talked about so long ago. The pain of losing Amy, really losing her weighed you both down.

“This is my fault,” Laurie said softly.

You looked over at him in shock. “Theo, it is not your fault. It is both of our fault. We should have told Amy the truth or maybe not been so harsh with her, she is a sensitive woman.”

“I was the mean one. Asking her to marry me like that. And then roping you into it.

“And I am a woman with my own agency. You didn’t force me, Theo. I was harsh as well. I was the one that was with her and then kissed you. She should hate me forever for it.”

Laurie looked down and squeezed your hand. “I am glad that we are together.”

You smiled, squeezing his back. “Me too. I am very happy right now. It’s not something I’ve truly been in a long time.”

“I was only this happy in London,” he confessed. “I brought a ring then. One to ask you to marry me.”

“What? Theo no? Oh, I am so very sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No. don’t be sorry. I suppose it was for the best. I got to fall in love with Amy and be close to her. And you got to know her feelings. You got to experience being in love with her and her loving you back.”

“Hey, she loved you as well.”

“But I was too stupid to see it,” he sighed.

“And I was too stupid in London to see you loved me.”

“We both are pale with this sickness then,” he said happily and swinging your hands back and forward.

You giggled, “I suppose we are. Someone should write a song about it,” you teased.

“My music is no good.”

“Oh lies, I saw the notebook back in the desk at home, you are talented. You just need to believe in yourself.”

“You saw that?” He asked, flushing.

“Yes, a few pieces about a pretty blonde in blue. Another is about the love of London. I am awfully curious about what those ones are about.”

Laurie, grabbed your waist, tickling you. “You little monster,” he chuckled as he watched you squirm. You giggled loudly trying to get away. People walking past you both stared some laughing along, others in distaste, but neither of you cared.

When Laurie stopped his attack he retook your hand. “Let’s go home?” 

You nodded. While you two didn’t discuss marrying each other you both did want to spend time in Italy and Laurie’s former home was beautiful and you knew how much it meant to him to be back.

Walking into the house you smiled warmly at Laurie, kissing him sweetly. “Shall I make us something for dinner or should we go back out later”

Laurie shrugged, “I don’t know. I might want to keep you in my bed all night long.”

“Oh Mr. Laurence, you deviant,” you chuckled, pushing his hands away as there was a knock on the door.

“Whoever it is get rid of them, you are mine,” he said, rounding the corner and giving you a wink.

You rolled your eyes at his playfulness and opened the door, only to be completely shocked about who was standing on the other side. “Amy? What are you doing here?”

Seeing Amy on your door steps was the last thing you thought you see. Yet there she stood, her hair down and her eyes wide, and her hands wringing in front of her. Her eyes darted all over your face and behind you before dropping to her hands.

Laurie moved into the foyer after hearing your words. He stood behind you, his hands resting on either side of your hips, tapping his pointer finger on your bone, a nervous habit you noticed.

Amy looked from you to Laurie then her eyes dropped to his hands on your waist. Her lips turned down in her perfect pout. “I had to tell you guys, something.”

“What is it?” Laurie asked.

She closed her eyes for a moment, balling her hands into fists before taking a deep breath and opening her eyes. “I was wrong about the poets,” she said.

“What?” you were confused and slightly worried that maybe Amy had lost her marbles, when Laurie pressed closer to you, forcing you both closer. “You’ve changed your mind?” He said softly, a bit of hope in his tone.

“Yes. I still believe that we have some power over who we love, but sometimes it happens unexpectedly. Sometimes you fall in love simply because it is meant to be. It isn’t a choice to fall in love, but it is a choice to fight for your love. To fight for happiness, equality, and love.”

You and Laurie looked at each other for a moment. Having no idea what to say to her confession. Your mind was running a mile a minute but only one thing repeated over and over and your head.

Amy was here.

“I turned down Fred’s proposal.” She continued. “And that was because I couldn’t live a life of lie. I couldn’t put myself aside for someone else. I don’t want a marriage of economic propositions. I rather never marry than be unhappy in marriage. I don’t want marriage if I can’t have it with you both. I love you both. And you don’t have to say anything but I needed to let you both know. I need-” 

You pushed yourself out of Laurie’s hold and pressed your lips to Amy's. You kissed her as if you would never kiss her again as if this was the last day on earth. As if all the oxygen was gone except for the one in her body. “Amy March, you speak too much,” you laughed, feeling tears run down your face.

Amy was crying as well. She released a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I know I know. I ramble sometimes and I talk too much but that is because I am passionate and this is important and you should talk about things that are important to you and you are-”

“Oh Amy, please,” Laurie chuckled, taking your place and pulling her into a kiss. His hand cupped the side of her face. His other hand reached back to tangle in yours. Laurie squeezed your hand and you couldn’t help but laugh and squeezes his back.

Amy pulled away flushing and you grinned grabbing her and pulling them both into the house. “Amy I am so happy you are here. My life would not be complete without you,” you said.

“Neither would mind,” Laurie said.

“My life is not a life without either of you,” Amy said, wrapping her arms around both your waists and hugging you both tightly.

You sighed happily hugging them both to you. Your eyes closed as you let yourself get lost in the hold of the two people you loved most in the world.

“So are we doing this,” Laurie asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at both of you.

Amy looked between the two of you and nodded. “Yes, more than anything.”

You smiled nodding. “You already know my answer.” 

“Good we have a lot to talk about and work out but for now, I just want to be with you both.”

You chuckled at the dark look in his eyes, one you have seen multiple times and Laurie flushed at your words. He was still so embarrassed of his desires and you just found him more enduring and attractive.

Amy glanced between the two of you. She pouted as she felt as if she was left out of some conversation. Seeing her pout, you cup her face kissing her until she melts against you. “Amy, my dove,  sweet Theo wants to spend time together.”

She nodded still lost.

“Naked in bed,” you added. You laughed at they both turned red. Amy glanced over at Laurie and he found the marble floors much more interesting.

“Will it be like when we did it?” She asked. Laurie’s head snapped up at her words, his mouth hanging open slightly.

You smirked at him, grabbing her hand. “It will be much better.” You held out your other hand for Laurie and tugged them both towards the bedroom. Once you closed the door, you stared at both of them.

Laurie was bouncing on his heels as his eyes jumped from your frame to Amy’s.  He looked so excited both you and Amy shared a look shaking your heads at him. “Don’t have a secret conversation about me,” he pouted.

“Poor Theo,” you said walking towards the bed. You slowly began undressing your outer layers, but they both jumped in helping you to undress. And then you and Amy turned your attentions to Laurie, undressing him quickly.  

Now both naked, you and Laurie turned to Amy. She giggled nervously and you smiled pressing yourself against her back while Laurie did the same to her front. “Relax Amy, we have you,” Laurie said, as he unbutton her corset.

“We will take care of you. We will make sure you are having a good time,” you said, undoing the bows and knots.

“I trust you both,” she said.

Once all three of you were undressed you all moved to the bed. Amy in the middle with you and Laurie on either side of her. Laurie grabbed the back of your head and kissed you deeply. 

You groaned against his lips as he bite your lower lip and tugged your hair slightly. You melt into the kiss and his touch, lost in Laurie’s orbit. A hand stroking your thigh and Laurie’s deep moan had you breaking away to look down at Amy.

She was stroking your thigh and running her finger along Laurie’s cock. “What do you call this?” she whispered to him.

He bit his lip, his breath hitching. “Um, it’s um it’s called a penis or a cock.”

She nodded. You wrapped your hand around hers and help her stroke his cock slowly. Laurie hissed causing you both to look up at him. “I won’t last long if you both keep this up,” he chuckled.

You and Amy giggled and you released her hand, pushing her shoulder back until she lay flat on the bed.  You situated yourself between her thighs, kissing her heatedly. You moaned and Amy grabbed your hips and grinding against you.

Laurie’s hand slid over both your shoulders, before going down your spine, causing you to shiver. Rubbing the head of his cock between the two of you his hands interlocked with Amy’s on your hips.

“Please, Theo,” you begged, against Amy’s lips.

“What is he going to do?” She asked, her eyes dark with lust and dancing with eagerness.

You grinned down at her. “Something amazing,” you said, dragging your lips along the side of her face, biting little love marks into her jaw.

Raising your hips slightly Laurie, pushing his cock between your bodies rocking his hips and moaning as he slid against both your soaking cores. Moaning you bit down harder on Amy causing her to cry out.

“Sorry, my dove,” you ran your tongue over the area in apology.

“No I like it bit me more,” she said, moving her hands to Laurie’s ass and pulling him closer. Laurie’s ball slapped loudly against your ass along with the sounds of your slick as it dripped from you to Laurie’s cock and down onto Amy.

Laurie groaned picking up speed and pressed his body against yours so he could kiss Amy. You reached between your bodies and rubbed both your nerves Each thrust in had your fingers brushing Laurie’s sensitive head.

“So close, not going to last much longer,” He groaned into her mouth.

“Me either, faster, please,” you moaned.

Amy shudders under you both. The weight of your body felt crushing, but she still wanted more of you both. She wanted you closer. She spread her legs wider, looping one of her legs around your calf and the other around Laurie’s waist.

“Oh, Dio,” Laurie breathed, as he came, shooting cum all over your lower stomach and and soaking you both more. Amy moaned, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose as she came, you followed quickly after her. 

Laurie thrust sloppily a few more times before rolling off of you onto the bed. Taking deep breaths you rolled off of Amy. You all lay in silence for a few minutes as you all tried to catch your breath.

And then Laurie started laughing, causing you both to look over at him.  He continued to laugh, covering his hands with his face. You sat up on your elbows to look at him closely. Amy's eyebrows pinched together, sitting up as well.

“Laurie, what is  so funny?” She asked.

“Yes, let us in on the joke,” you said, draping your arm over her hips and blinking expectantly at him.

He chuckled, removing his hand, and turned to face you both. “I was just thinking about the day Amy fell into the water.”

“What? Why?” You laughed.

“She fell in and we went in to save her. All three of us soaking wet and laid on the ice like this. I remember being so terrified but then Amy complained about her ruined dress and we all laughed.”

You snorted, laughing as well. 

“It was a pretty dress. And it was new,” she defended.

“You almost died,” Laurie stressed laughing. 

You joined in kissing her shoulder. “I was terrified too but it was one of my favorite days with the two of you.”

Amy laughed as well, wrapping herself around Laurie. “We all got cocoa at home and sat by the fire for hours just talking. All my sisters were out with Marmee and I got you both to myself.”

“And now you have us forever,” Laurie said, kissing her forehead then he pressed one to yours.

Grabbing the blanket you wrapped it around all of you, snuggling close together. You all needed to wash up and the sheets would need to be changed but that could wait until after a nap. You closed your eyes, laying your head on Amy’s shoulder as she laid hers on Laurie’s chest. As you drifted off you couldn’t help but think.

Amy loved you.

Amy loved Laurie.

She was here in Italy.

Amy was with you and Laurie.

Amy and Laurie

Amy and Laurie.

You, Amy, Laurie.

                                   Taglist.

@gatoenlaciudad

@iloveneilperry​

@valencia-rou

@s-we-e-t-t-ea​

@robertpattins0nswh0re

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #laurie laurence x reader #laurie x amy #laurie x amy x reader #laurie x reader #amy march x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet smut #laurie smut #smut

[whinlatter]

i MUST hear your thoughts on "im your man" by mitski and how it's the ginny/harry/sirius trio anthem in "beasts"...must hear

what have you done asking me about this...... a great and terrible mistake........ the air is thick with sirens...........

basically i'm your man is an absolutely perfect song about feeling unworthy and undeserving of the love someone gives you, and a feeling of great dread that one day the other person will realise it and leave. it is - for this reason - so eye-wateringly ginny-sirius-harry coded i simply cannot bear it. that whole album (the land is inhospitable and so are we) is heaven and there are so many songs on it that have been absolutely dynamite for getting the juices flowing with this fic (the frost and star are my hinny anthems for chapter 12  👀)

so i am taking a short dissertation writing break to offer an entirely unhinged rant about i'm your man complete with some mild beasts spoilers because apparently i care a lot about this inexplicably. thank you so much for humouring me!

you're an angel, i'm a dog or you're a dog and i'm your man you believe me like a god i'll destroy you like i am

the first verse plays with the idea that there are three tiers of being - dog, man, angel/god - that all exist in relation to each other. the narrator sings the song to put themselves down. you're an angel, i'm a dog - meaning, i'm lowly nothing compared to your pure divine greatness. in the next line, a twist and advance on that idea: you're a dog (faithful, honest, loyal, loving easily and with such trust) and i'm your man (the one who is responsible for you, who you look to protect and sustain you, who is unworthy of that kind of adoration). you believe me like a god - you trust and believe in my power and ability to take care of you and guide you. but then: i'll destroy you like i am - the only real godlike power the narrator identifies with is the capacity for destruction and ruin.

ok partly it's... you know....... the dog thing because i am very on-the-nose. (obviously sirius as padfoot, but also the distinctions in the wizarding world between beings as the moral civilised entities vs the beasts, the wild and lawless and violent magical creatures). but it's also this suggestion of hero worship and adoration from one character to another, and the object of that kind of love struggling to feel worthy of it and fearing the power it has given them over the other person. it's such a huge vibe for how i'm thinking about these characters !! i feel like it works both for harry and sirius' relationship as well as harry and ginny's: the love and reverence harry has for sirius, when sirius is filled with so much self-loathing and guilt and awareness of his own failings as a parent figure, and the way harry comes to love ginny and think of her as this pure singular light and symbol of all his hopes for a bright and good future, which (i think!) would be a lot for ginny to take on and live up to and feel deserving of. there's even shades of it in how i imagine ginny feels about sirius in the flashbacks - little ginny looking up to sirius like he's a god, hanging off his every word, sirius backing away from being responsible for this child's admiration and desire for guidance from him.

i'm sorry i'm the one you love no one will ever love me like you again so when you leave me, i should die i deserve it, don't i

i mean this is a pure sirius verse imo also with such harry shades to it ('i deserve it don't i' pure ootp harry angst). but i see some of ginny in this too ('i'm sorry i'm the one you love' - her wish that she could just be such cool and chill and easy and trying to live up to this idea harry sometimes as of her as so strong and stoic and able to deal with things, and then her feelings when all that comes crumbling down....)

i can feel it getting near like flashlights coming down the way one day you'll figure me out i'll meet judgment by the hounds

the feeling of being hunted! sirius and harry as wanted men! ginny getting found out and caught in her secrets and half-lies! 'i'll meet judgement by the hounds' god. god

people always gave me love others were never to blame after all you believe me like a god i'll betray you like a man

i think of this verse as the sirius and ginny verse. here the narrator locates the source of their unworthiness internally, not in being deprived of love by others, but in something fundamentally broken and tainted inside them. sirius as a character can't blame a total absence of love for what he's become - he was loved, he blames no-one but himself for the loathing he feels for himself. ginny, too, could not have been more loved, both before the TMR ordeal, but also thereafter - she comes from a family that adores her, she is widely liked and admired; but still, there's something missing in her sense of self. i do not wish to spoil future chapters but yeah this is bit is a Big Mood as we come closer to understanding ginny's war and what it asked of her

in chapters 10 and 11 of beasts, i started to play with this idea of the traitor, of a person who has made a great and terrible choice to betray the people close to them and in doing so revealed a true self that was there all along but lay dormant. so far in the fic, i've tried to thread in a lil drip-drip-drip of questions about the self, who a person really ever is, and about the choices characters make because of their sense of who they are, especially moral choices, in a war and under a regime that must, ethically, be resisted.

of sirius, harry, and ginny, so far it's sirius who knows most about what it is to be a traitor: someone who spent the bulk of his life assumed to be a turncoat, who is consumed by his hatred of wormtail and the memory of his treachery, who can't even begin to grasp the layers and dimensions to his own brother's betrayal, and who fundamentally still thinks of himself as a traitor to his best mate, believing himself to having 'as good as' killed lily and james. harry is the one who's full of trust, throughout the war:

'“No,” Harry said out loud, and they all looked at him, surprised. The firewhisky seemed to have amplified his voice. “I mean . . . if somebody made a mistake,” Harry went on, “and let something slip, I know they didn’t mean to do it. It’s not their fault,” he repeated, again a little louder than he would usually have spoken. “We’ve got to trust each other. I trust all of you, I don’t think anyone in this room would ever sell me to Voldemort."'

“No, I think you’re like James,” said Lupin, “who would have regarded it as the height of dishonour to mistrust his friends.” Harry knew what Lupin was getting at: that his father had been betrayed by his friend, Peter Pettigrew. He felt irrationally angry. He wanted to argue, but Lupin had turned away from him...'

ginny, of course, knows what it is to be betrayed - by her first real friend, by her own brother. but i just think these two final lines, the twist on the first verse, are such a huge huge mood for drawing some of these ideas to the surface as the plot inches (v slowly lol) forwards - the idea of a character who has had every faith put in them by someone who loves and believes in them, who fears that they wll buckle under the weight of it and betray that love and trust in terrible ways. to betray you like a man - for the great moral sin to be something inherent to no other creature or being but man - is just such a powerful cool as shit line that is really gettin me going for writing the next bit of this fic.

wow i didn't even know how much i cared about this song but turns out it's a lot???? troubling for me!

#beasts #sirius black #hinny #mitski the woman that you are #that whole album is fire #i got told off for insisting i don't like my mind was a christmas song and sticking it on on christmas day #like sorry it's MY song of worship? #beasts spoilers

[sea-moon-star]

17 || CHS

Pairing: Vernon x f.reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, First Love, Fluff, Slice of life

WC: 1k

Summary: On your wedding day to Vernon, you flashback to the day you first met him, back when you were classmates in school & how you fell in love at first sight. This chronicles your fluffy, at times angsty love story from your meet cute till the day of your wedding.

A/N: True Story (almost), inspired by the song 17 by Pink Sweat$ & SVT 🌊🌙⭐️

Prologue

Walking down the aisle in a white gown while keeping my eyes trained on my groom, was as easy as breathing in a hyperbaric chamber. But it shouldn't have been, not when I hated being the center of attention, not when I wore high heels that threatened to break my fall, not when breathing itself was hard with me being an asthmatic, yet against all odds, he made everything easier by simply being present. Being in love is often described as having your breath taken away but with him, it was like he gave me the breath of life. Chwe Hansol was like a breath of fresh air in my suffocating existence. Every time, I'd been gasping for air, he'd been there, keeping me alive, I still remembered the first time we'd met like it was yesterday.

"I wanna love you as strong, when we're 92 the same as 17."

Chapter 1 - 17

Shifting to a new school was something I'd always dreaded. But I had the practice, given that my dad had a job that kept sending him on projects across the world and this was my 7th school in many years. But this one mattered more than the rest, this is where I'd do my high school, that part of my school life that was romanticized beyond my imagination. But it was nothing like the books, movies, songs had told me it would be.

Shifting to a new country meant no one spoke in English, everyone spoke in Korean even though the teaching took place in English in this so called fancy international school in Seoul which I'd been assured was the best of the best. But here I was, back to crying in bathroom stalls, eating lunch alone and being bullied and excluded by the class for being an outsider. They hated me for scoring straight A's without realizing that studying was my only constant in a childhood where I kept shifting cities and losing friends, for not being beautiful enough as per Korean standards without understanding what steroids do to a child suffering from a chronic illness and they hated me because all the adults loved me, not knowing that when they praised me for being so mature for a child my age, I didn't take it as a compliment but a consequence of having lived through trauma.

So naturally, I did the only thing that made sense to me, I studied through the day, cried myself to sleep at night. If it wasn't bad enough that I was being troubled by the students, there was a teacher who took pleasure in making my life harder. The swim coach made it her life's mission to humiliate me because I couldn't swim in the deep end like the others, though she refused to give any instructions in English, I had to not only try to comprehend and follow her Korean instructions but it also meant I couldn't explain my asthma to her because she wouldn't give me any time of her day. I was trying my best to pick up swimming, to push myself to my best but it was never enough for her. Until the day when it time for the swim practicals and despite my many refusals, she wanted everyone to swim from the deep end. None of the students helped me as I tried to explain in my broken Korean that I couldn't pull this off and the coach assumed I was just being lazy and making excuses. She ended up doing what she did with any student who she thought needed to learn a lesson, she pushed me unsuspectingly into the pool, expecting me to just swim my way out of it. And I tried, I promise you I did. But it simply wasn't enough, and sure enough I started drowning somewhere around the 9ft mark.

At first, I started flailing reflexively but somewhere in the back of my mind, the thought that it wouldn't be so bad to give up made it's home and I stopped trying. I hated my life, I wanted the pain to stop so this wasn't a bad idea was it? It would be so easy to just let go. Except just as I made up my mind to give up, I felt an iron clad grip on my wrist, refusing to let go. Next thing I knew I was coughing up water & back on dry land, the first thing I heard was his deep voice arguing with the teacher in Korean, I could barely get the gist but turned out that he was defending me in front the teacher. He seemed to have put 2 & 2 together from the class in panic had confessed that they knew I had asthma but refused to tell the teacher this because they thought it would've been fun to watch me suffer. I couldn't explain the surge of warmth I felt at the fact that someone was finally standing up for me, when I couldn't. But the next thing he did, made me break down entirely, I didn't believe in love at first sight but I was a goner right then & there.

He turned to me with his tender gaze, "Are you okay? I'm so sorry about what happened. I promise I'll speak to my father about it, he's on the school board. You'll be okay, but for now let's just get you to the school nurse okay? Do you feel okay to stand up?? Can you walk?" At first, I thought the lack of oxygen had messed up my brain, he was just speaking in fluent Korean then how was I understanding him so perfectly? Until, it struck me that he'd switched to english, the words slipping off his tongue like it was second nature. I couldn't believe it, finally, I had someone who understood me, someone who saw me for who I was. Nothing felt better than telling him, "Thank you, thank you for saving my life." Because he had, not just literally but even metaphorically. And in that moment, I could already picture our future- shaking hands and becoming friends at the nurse's office, library study hangs that soon became date nights, our first kiss after he scored the winning goal at the football match, dancing under the stars during prom night as the DJ played, "17 by Pink Sweats & SVT" and recreating that moment by playing the same song, as I walked down my wedding aisle a decade later.

"We'll be dancing the same groove, when we're 92, the same as 17."

To Be Continued... 🌊🌙⭐️

#vernon #hansol vernon chwe #chwe vernon #chwe hansol x reader #chwe hansol #vernon svt #vernon fic #seventeen #seventeen fic #svt carat #svt x reader #Spotify

[fandom-hoarder]

Caretaker!Dean in the Bunker

A Hurt/Comfort-ish Wincest Rec List Featuring Baby Brother Sammy and Domestic Winchesters

💜 My Only Home by non_tiembo_mala

Rating: Explicit | Words: 12819 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: Dean's been gone a while, running wild with a twisted soul and black eyes. When Sam finally brings him back, Dean realizes his little brother hasn't been doing well in his absence, and he has more important things to worry about than what he did as a demon.

Additional Tags: Wincest - Freeform, first time in a long time, Post-Episode: s10e03 Soul Survivor, Pre-series and Early Series Flashbacks, Eating Disorders, Thoughts of Self-harm, Pining, Angst, Masturbation, Come Eating, Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Sam, Anal Sex, Felching, Snowballing

My Note: flashbacks to Sam pining for Dean as a teen, but no underage sex with a partner

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💜 Safe, Sane, and Consentual by TooOldToCare8353

Rating: Explicit | Words: 2808 | Chose Not to Warn

Summary: Fixing the relationship, the Winchester way. Not necessarily the right way to get there, but it works for them.

Additional Tags: BDSM, Breathplay, MOL Dungeon, Dom Dean Winchester, Sub Sam Winchester, Manacles, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dubious Consent

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💜 Dean does Not like a sick Sammy... but he loves her all the same. By Magnoliachild

Rating: Mature | Words: 3941 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: They get to town for a hunt, but the day after they get there, Dean notices Sammy napping...face down on a motel table.... in the middle of the afternoon.............. FUCK.

Sammy is sick. Dean doesn't like it when Sammy is sick, but sue him for liking how nice he can be when she is...

Additional Tags: Bathing/Washing, Sick Sam Winchester, Caring Dean Winchester, Fluff, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always Female Sam Winchester, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural)

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💜 lullabies by chiliscale

Rating: Explicit | Words: 970 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: Sam´s staying up late, Dean doesn´t care for that shit.

Additional Tags: Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Dean taking care of Sam, Domestic Fluff

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💜 Steady by non_tiembo_mala

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 1441 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: Sam has an attack. Dean works him through it.Set somewhere in S11 because I can't stop thinking about strong, beautiful Sammy being all fucked up because of friggin' Lucifer.

Additional Tags: Wincest - Freeform, Nightmares, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sleepy Cuddles

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💜 Getting Down And Out by verucasalt123

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 2299 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: “Hey, Sam, take a breath, we got all the time in the world”, Dean tells him, which of course isn’t true, is never true, but Sam needs to relax if he’s going to start using complete sentences.

Additional Tags: Sibling Incest, Kissing, Cooking, Witches, Episode: s10e12 About A Boy, Childhood Memories, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Child Neglect, Food Issues, Song: Shake It Off (Taylor Swift), Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Community: spn_j2_xmas

Podfic by me Here

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💜 The Only Thing by non_tiembo_mala

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 1242 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: Sam gets mind-fucked and tortured by a British bitch who somehow manages to walk away from it all in one piece.

But he also gets back the brother he thought was dead, and Dean will always be enough.

Additional Tags: Wincest - Freeform, Episode Tag: S12E02, Post-Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, bed sharing, Cuddles

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💜 A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey

Rating: Explicit | Words:3561 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: [summary is a really long prompt, so I'm giving my own here] Sam finds out he's really an omega when Rowena offers to set him back to rights. He doesn't tell Dean, but Dean can tell right away when Sam starts a heat; Dean's held guilt over not stopping John from altering Sam's body as a kid.

Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Traumatized Sam Winchester, Omega Sam Winchester, Bottom Sam Winchester, Alpha Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester, Soulmates, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Barebacking, Hurt/Comfort, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural)

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💜 Every Night by non_tiembo_mala

Rating: Mature | Words: 1585 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: Sam is struggling with nightmares after Dean rescues him from the Cage. He's trying not to worry Dean about it but nothing slips past his big brother.

Additional Tags: Season/Series 11, Wincest - Freeform, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Brothers, Nightmares, Post-Cage, Sleepy Boys, Episode: s11e10 The Devil in the Details, Coda

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💜 One Good Birthday by brokenlittleboy

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 3773 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: This year, nothing bad happens on Sam's birthday. Sam's on edge, waiting for that shoe to drop. Dean tries to give him one good birthday, and they both realize something along the way.

Additional Tags: Birthday Fluff, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Season/Series 15, First Kiss, Sleepy Cuddles, First Dates, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Has Birthday Trauma, Fix-It

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Honorable Mentions 💚

💚 It's A Love Story by non_tiembo_mala

Rating: Teen+ | Words:1569 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: Brother cuddles, confessions, and sweet banter after the boys get back to the bunker.

Additional Tags: Wincest - Freeform, Cuddles, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers, Episode: s11e17 Red Meat, Coda, Soulmates, Dean and Sam are Romeo and Juliet

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💚 only this and nothing more by wincestgoddess

Rating: Not Rated | Words: 1611 | No Warnings Apply

Summary: Dean gifts Sam souvenirs. It's no big deal, except that it is.

Except when they're more than just souvenirs.

Additional Tags: Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Romantic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, lovestruck Sam Winchester, lovestruck Dean Winchester, Soulmates, Brief mention of sexual assault

#my rec list #wincest #wincest fanfiction #wincest rec list #hurt/comfort #caretaker!dean #moc!dean #mol bunker #big brother dean #little brother sammy #domestic!winchesters #sam whump #ish #these are mostly whump aftermath #aka it's that time of the month again #long post

[himbos-hotline]

for Hangmega "just tell me what you need. let me give it to you?"

It's fine, fine, fine [Who am I?]

Word count: 1,623 words Ship: Kenny Omega/ "Hangman" Adam Page, refrenced Golden Lovers Characters: Kenny Omega, "Hangman" Adam Page, The Ghost of Kota Ibushi/Kota Ibushi [flashback edition] Triggers: Dissocation, mention of blood, body issues [kinda] Authors note: I kinda ran with the idea that Kenny having less blond in his hair means that Cleaner is fronting more than him since we see Kenny have darker hair in NJPW when hes like maximum cleaner. Theres not really a time period this takes place, just Hanger being a good boyfriend and helping Kenny out of a moment of dissocation Read on ao3

Kenny’s skin is rough from years of wrestling. His fingertips and palms are calloused and the scars on his shoulder and stomach raise in the summer, leaving behind messy hills that he can’t help but notice as he stares at the foggy reflection in the mirror. There's a dent under his eye, covering the dark eye bags of fatigue. He rubs muscle rub into his shoulders and wraps supportive tape around his knees. Kenny breathes in and washes the menthol off his palms, sighing when a familiar weight connects with his shoulder and strong arms wrap snugly around his middle.

Kota’s looking at him through the condensation on the mirror, brown eyes glowing like melting candle wax under long eyelashes that brush against the curve of Kenny’s jaw and he smiles softly when Kenny’s blue eyes meet his in the falling droplets, watching their mismatched shape run and drop slowly onto the damp bathroom floor. “Hi.” Kenny whispers, talking to the men in the mirror as he feels kota breath against his ear.

“You look wonderful.” Kota whispers, his voice soft enough that Kenny glances over to the windows. Making sure that he's not hearing it on the window. There's the last wisps of toothpaste on Kota’s breath and it makes Kenny smile, melting into his touch.

“I love you.” and it sounds like a floating promise, whispered to the men in the mirror. And Kotas voice is falling, slowly at first like the slow outro of a love song. Kennys eyebrows crease together and he watches the mirror as Kota’s frame darkens and shifts, melting inside the condensation and the heat of the bathroom, Kenny clings to the hands around his middle, blunt nails digging deep into Kota’s pulsepoint that the tips of his fingers feel wet with blood.

Kenny stares at the reflections in the mirror and closes his eyes, feeling his face screw up. He flexes his fingers, rolls his ankles hard enough that Kenny wobbles unsteady and he presses his forehead against the cold glass of the mirror. “Do not forget me.” The weight around his middle fades away, melting away like the water droplets on the mirror and Kenny’s eyes open slowly like a child locked in a dark room, he stares at the close up reflection in the mirror and swallows. It's just him.

He looks himself in the eye, traces the circle of gold around his pupils. He searches the foggy blue for himself before his brain fills with a heavy fog; it feels like Kenny’s breathing in bonfire smoke; every time he breathes it clogs his nostrils and sits heavy around his eyes, filling his eyes with pixels. He looks around the room, eyes lingering on the bottle of shampoo tipped out and leaking on the bathroom floor. He touches his hair, rubbing the curls against his thumb and forefinger, the sound feels far away and Kenny keeps his eyes glued on the face in the mirror. He separates the blond curls from the dark brown and stares, heavy eyes foggy and cloudy.

He doesn't remember digging out the hair dye from the bottom of his bag, he doesn't even remember buying it. But he rolls the bottle in his hands, feeling the liquid inside shift around. He looks at himself in the mirror again, sees a flash of something golden tumble from the corner of the dark room and he nods, once.

Adam arrives back to the hotel to the bathroom door cracked open and the smell of hair dye floating through the heavy air. He drops his bag by the door and flicks on a bedside lamp. “Kenny?” He calls, voice soft at first as his footsteps echo around the small room. He glances over his shoulder, almost feeling like he’s being watched. The gap between the bedroom and the bathroom seems to stretch on forever and Adam almost pictures himself taking comically large steps across the scuffed brown carpet. He nudges the bathroom door open with the toe of his boot, catching each breath in his throat. Adam follows the trail of hair dye with his eyes, watching the bottle drip slowly onto the bathroom floor, running down the bathroom sink until it drops into a heavy black puddle. It drips steadily, and Adam swallows, pulling back the shower curtain and sighs.

Kenny stares dead ahead, barely registering Adam’s existence as he cowers behind the shower curtain. His eyes are unfocused on the puddle on the floor and hair dye drizzles across his shoulders and the top of his forehead, highlighting the scar on his forehead and the dent in his eyebrow. Adam’s smile is sad and carries no joy as he squats in front of Kenny and slowly tucks his hands into his lap. Kenny’s eyes shift ever so slightly, cloudy and gray as he stares at Adam, not a flash of recognition. “Hey Angel, I’m here.” Adam’s voice is soft as he kneels against the bumpy bathroom floor and tucks his hands snugly into his lap. He won’t touch Kenny until Kenny needs to be touched.

“Okay.” Kenny’s voice is soft and flat and lifeless but rings louder than any church bell Adam’s ever heard. He slowly slips his hand into Kenny’s and squeezes; tight enough that Kenny’s brain registers the touch as something far away and important. His fingers twitch before slowly they twist one by one around Adam’s palm until Kenny is pushing their palms together, feeling the tendons and muscles that shape around Adam’s fingers. He tilts his head and squeezes again, harder this time as he judges Adam’s warm hand.

“Real….?”

Kenny’s voice comes out like a question from a child; whispered and croaking. Adam squeezes his hand back and nods, slowly pressing his palm deeper against the calloused skin of Kenny’s palm.

“Yeah Kenny real. This is just dissociation. It’ll go. You can do this okay?"

Kenny nods; once and curt and tightly, almost like if he moves his head any harder, it’ll topple off his neck and go rolling down the shower floor coming to a stop to bleed down the plughole.

“Why don't we go into the bedroom? I brought snacks.” Adam forces cheeriness into his voice, trying to keep whatever little bit of Kenny he has alert and alive. He feels a little like he’s squeezing ashes together; trying to force scraps of nothingness into the face of the person they once made up, so they can become real and human again.

Kenny nods again and makes a choked out sound from the back of his throat, squeezing Adams hand back as he stands, slowly sliding his hand up Kenny’s back and onto his shoulder as he steadies Kenny onto his feet. Under the flickering light of the bathroom, Kenny looks slightly better, out of focused eyes looking for his reflection in Adams eyes instead of down at the patch of hair dye on the floor.

The first step is the hardest. Painful limbs and dissociation fight to keep Kenny rooted in whatever nightmare he mind is running through but Adam pulls on his arm, pushing back on his shoulder as the two of them stand, Adam holding Kenny up. He takes a step backwards, tugs on Kenny’s arm and smiles, bright and overdramatic, when Kenny follows, looking down at his feet before backing up at Adam.

“Ya doing great baby.” Adam praises, squeezes his boyfriend's hand as he leads him slowly into the brighter lights of the bedroom. Kenny squints against the brightness and Adam copies, the two of them falling into a game of ‘monkey see, monkey do’. Adam pulls a face, over dramatic and funny and Kenny, copies and smiles when Adam chuckles, squeezing at Kenny’s calloused skin proudly. It looks stupid but with every out of touch smile, Adam finds more and more of Kenny; a flash of gold around his pupils, the creases under his eyes that shimmer until the warm yellow lights, a choked out laugh that would go unnoticed by anyone who wasn’t so utterly in love with Kenny Omega but not by Adam.

He wraps his arms tightly around Kenny’s middle, swaying almost like they're dancing as Kenny finds his head resting against Adam's heart, feeling the rumble of his words rising in his chest when he asks “"just tell me what you need. let me give it to you?”

Adam rocks with Kenny in his arms, keeping his arms and legs moving as he thinks. Kenny taps at Adam's butt, tracing the outline of his phone against the pocket of Adam’s jeans and Adam nods. The music he blares is loud enough to warrant a sound complaint to reception by the neighbors but Kenny registers the beat, nodding along to the bassline and Adam giggles, raising his arm to twirl him around, copying the messy movements until Kenny’s giggling and existing.

Adam has won the fight against whatever startled Kenny into locking himself inside his own head. He spins Kenny around and cups his cheek, searches for the man he loves in his eyes and smiles when Kenny knocks his forehead against his and breathes slowly against the plushness of Adams lips.

Adam stares at Kenny and smiles.

He sees him back in his eyes and something in Adam feels right. He might not have Kenny forever, he might have to nurse a broken body back to health and wander through fog and hellfire to find Kenny but Adam knows one thing.

Kenny’s skin might be rough from years of wrestling but there's something between them that will always bring him back; even if it is just in laughter and unskilled dancing that keeps the monsters away. Kenny will always come back.

Eventually.

Taglist: @allelitesmut @homoeroticgrappling @dustinslovehandles @paradoxunknown @katries @mrsmatt @echoxshxrx @malewifemoxley @kass-the-kitten @itsnoosetome @racerchix21 @jacedoe @chuckstaylors @old-no7 @thekadster @mandiableclaw @tahiri-veyla

#kenny omega #hangman page #hangmega #hangkenny #mouse writes

[seii-fantasy]

The Forbidden love:

Chapter : 1

You cannot choose the family you want to born in

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Warning: Abuse , sacrifice (animals or ?Human?) , family issues and some part of the fic will be heavenly inspired from my childhood ( so it means there's gonna be bullying ) , Posidon might be ooc

If you're unconfortable with that please don't read it!

A/N:

Y/cl/n= Your clan name

Y/fav/col= Your fav color

Y/m/n= Your mother's name

Y/f/n= your father's name

Y/gf/n = Your grandfather's name (the father of y/m/n

Y/l/n=your last name

The Valhalla will be the name of Kronos's enterprise since in Tekken Heihachi's father (Jinpachi) had a big enterprise

■°•■°•■°•■°•■°•■°•■°•■°•■°•■°•■

Song/Theme playing:

□°•□°•□°•□°•□°•□°•□°•□°•□°•□°•□

In the private room of the y/cl/n , a woman was giving birth in her room , after two hours , the baby was born a maid took the baby in her arm as she exclaimed "Oh my goodness , its a girl mistress y/m/n!" And she gave to the mother who was sweaty from giving birth

The father came in the room asking for the baby and his wife as the others maid answered that , the wife and his newborn daughter were alright as he heard that his newborn child was a girl and not a son , inside him he was furious who will inherit the title of Chief of the y/cl/n , for y/f/n a girl cannot be the leader of a clan , only a boy can be the leader y/m/n didn't share the same opinion as your father for her , woman can have the title of leader just like mens

But your father thought that it will be great if you became an assasin , so if he would like to annihilate someone , he would sent you while your mother was holding you and a maid was singing you a lullaby so you can calm and sleep peacefully in the arms of your mother

"The Bloody moon will surface again , the seal will broke , the demon shall be free , sleeping in the bloody river where all the deadly song are sang , no one shall see her true face covered by the beauty of a goddess , behind this beautiful face there's a demon hiding "

It was such a creepy lullaby , as y/gf/n came in all the maids stopped singing and bowed to the eldest of the y/l/n family. Y/gf/n aprroached your mother slowly and put his hand on your forehead his eyes dilated as he spoke "She will carry the pride and the legacy of the y/cl/n , she will be powerful and beautiful" as he looks at your father asking if he already chose a name for you and your father gulped and didn't answer at your grand-father while your mother spoke quietly saying that she already chose a name .

Your father already planned your futur a futur you cannot escape , cannot change it will be your destiny .

■□▪︎■□▪︎■□▪︎■□▪︎■□▪︎■□▪︎■□▪︎

Now let's move on , in another family , four brothers were having such an intense training even thought they were just small childs

"If you want to rule the Valhalla one day childrens , you need to be strong ! Just like i am" Kronos said

And yes , the man who was training his childs was Kronos , the most powerful man in the Greek pantheon , after he told his childrens , his wish ; The four littles boys continued their hard trainings instead of one .

It was the third brother Poseidon , he did wanted to take the enterprise of his father well not in a nice way , he wanted to steal it but he was a child . How could he steal an enterprise that belong to his father but he was still a child

As Jinryu the best friend of their father came , Kronos told his childs to take a break and they will continue when he will come back and the childs did what their dad told them .

All of them went back to their pastime , while Poseidon continued his hard training . Jinryu saw the little blondy boy as he said to his father that his third son was quite determinated to be strong like his father as Kronos nooded agreeing with his old best-friend

■▪︎■▪︎□Flashback□▪︎■▪︎□

Poseidon might be cold-hearted or cold , inside of him , he was an adorable little boy

And yet since he started to walk when he started to go outside and play with some friends but Poseidon didn't had many friends just like his brother , he was bullied everyday , many of the childrens would call him "Freak" or "Weird" ; he was beated until he's laying in his own pool of blood . He was scared to tell his eldest sibling he was scared that no one would believe him .

One night he saw his big brother Hades training in their dojo as the silverette boy was training he immediately saw his little brother who was slightly injured , he stopped his training quickly and ran to his brother as he asked what happened to him , the little boy who was crying , said that a group of bully has beaten him as Hades's face darkened and he smirked as he asked his little brother if he wanted to learn how to fight so he can beat his enemies

And nowaday , Hades has taught Poseidon many techniques of the Olympus style , now that our little Poseidon have beaten his bullies ; the blonde boy was now respected just like his siblings

●°•●°•●°•End of the Flashback●°•●°•●

Poseidon was training hardly , as Hades came and told his little brother to stop , and Poseidon stopped quickly as Kronos called his childs to come and meet his friend

Back to the Y/c/l●°•●°•●°•●°●•●°

Your father was planning that once you're four years old , you're gonna have a training , a special one , the one destined to the assasins of the clan .

It was considered to be a special training , it was for only the rich , or person coming from the royal family who can learn that.

Your mother was in heaven with you , while you kept babbling some incoherent words , your mama kept giggling saying that you were the most cutest thing , and she kept giggling saying this "Watashi no saiai no itto ,anata wa ten'nomegumidesu , anata ga ite tottemo shiawadesu" ( My darling , you are a gift from the sky , i am so happy to have you) . And your mother kept cherish you as always .

"No ! No ! Please i swear , i haven't done anything bad , i beg for mercy !" A man was getting beaten by your father "Bastards like you , i rather see them dead than alive, the world shall be cleansed of all the pure evilness" as he called his guards and started to pray to the devil , offering him as a sacrifice before setting him on fire.

After doing killing him , he disposed the body , and went to purify himself before coming home .

He already prepared your destiny , he clearly hate Kronos , thinking that his family was a whole menace , so he thought that you marriying one of his son and kill them , that will please him , so he already planned your training but he knew that Kronos has four sons , he will decide who you shall marry

Somehow , his choice landed on third son , the devil has chosen his prey like he would say.

You aren't ready for what was coming for you...

#Spotify #recordofragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #rorposeidon #snvposeidon #snv poseidon x reader #rorposeidonxreader

[howl-fantasies]

I'm feeling' angsty today... So y'know what?

Imagine watching from the other side of the screen...

[name] laying in a pool of her own blood all alone on some random alleyway with the song Skyfall playing in the background as flashbacks of her childhood are revealed to the viewers. No one knows what's happening, and she just closes her eyes and smiled, as memories of her and her "friends" are presented to the screen.

She gripped tightly on her vest, as she let her tears fall. 'Victor.. please, take are of new Gotham, for she... Is my legacy'..

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Oh dear, I was a total mess thinking about your request! I love the angst and the opportunity your idea gives to have a little glimpse of Y/N's past and moments with her frenemies.

Warning: blood, mention of violence, profanities, english mistakes: I’m working on it, sorry it’s not my first language.

Word count: 2.3k

SKYFALL

The rain was pouring on Gotham city. Like any other day when you think about it. And when the rain wasn't crashing on the dirty pavement, it was snow, which was in charge to freeze the citizens to their bones.

She never minded the rain, she thought, while feeling it lick her skin and the blood which was also pouring out of the open wound in her chest, staining the hard road she was feeling against her back. Nevermind, the water will wash it away after all.

It wasn't the first time she was shot. No. The first time, she was 12. She had an errand to make, for Carmine Falcone. Even if she didn't meet the man in person, one of his goons told her she had to deliver a package. A medium one, in which she never knew what was patiently waiting to be given to his men. 

Don't ask question if you're not sure to want to know the answer or if you're not strong enough to keep it a secret. Rule number 2. First being: always think of you and your best interests.

So she delivered it. Without too much trouble, she was already a cautious little thing back then. She learnt it, thanks to her father. Not a violent man or an alcoholic, mind you, but a man way too naive and gullible for his own good. Thinking borrowing some money from wanna be mafiosi wouldn't be an issue, even with highly indecent interest rates.

And he spent it, helping her also too naive mother to buy a dingy gallery where she would be able to expose her art pieces in hope some rich artist or investor will find her. You know? Exactly like in the stupid tv film you would find on a shitty afternoon, when you've caught the flu or something. 

Impossible scenarios they were. The two adults made their first mistake: they talked about it. A lot. In the Narrows. See where it leads? Yes, a disaster. Wanna be mafiosi tricked the couple, vandalizing the gallery then showing their faces the next day in front of their door and demanding their money back. 

Another disaster. A proper beating for her father, a good one for her mother, and for her? Well let's say she was lucky enough not to be home at this moment. All this beating for another disaster on its way: her father having now to work for the mafiosi for free, in hope to be able to pay them back. 

In the next life maybe? Same for her mother, and her. Child labor? Who would it shock in this hell hole ruled by the underworld?

That's how she started working here and there for the Mafia. Simple tasks, like delivering this fucking package, but dangerous ones when a few foes of the clan she was currently working for barged in like cow-boys with machine guns, putting bullets in every body and furniture in the way. 

She was just about to escape when a bullet pierced the back of her shoulder. The white hot pain, the warmth of her own blood, the dizziness following, she was never going to forget it.

She laugh at her past self. She had thought she would never stand near a gun again. How wrong she was. Look at her now, wheezing like a fucking seal in the middle of nowhere because of it. Shit it hurts like the first time. 

Always have and always will, if she was lucky enough to be shot another time. Goodness, she was delirious, thinking about the next bullet to add to her ridiculous pierced body. Victor would have laugh. Goddammit, Victor... He will fucking lose it if she doesn't move her lazy ass from the ground.

Even with her best try, she was just able to move her right hand and arm. "Not good", she muttered. Yup he'll definitely lose it.

Her gaze was now on the dark sky, rumbling peacefully. Maybe he, Ed, or even Oswald or Jim would be able to find her before she painted the entire alley with her blood. Maybe take her to Carter, the biggest jerk but the better underground surgeon she knows.

She met the idiot when she was 15. A tall, blond slender teen with the greenest eyes she had ever seen. He always was a meanie to her, fixing her injuries while yelling in her ears how an imbecile she was and how she didn't deserve his talent.

He was like Ed, well, Riddl-ED, in a way. Always bossy and confident and looking at you like you were a nuisance. The only nuisance he would be able to find in this shitty hole who would let him butcher it willingly, she would remind him frequently, making him frown deeply. After all who, in their right state of mind, would want a bratty teen to stitch or cut them to take out a bullet? Exactly, nobody but her.

She owed him her ugliest scars, poor dude had to practice a bit before being able to do it properly. She also owed him her life. And a lot of money since he decided she didn't have to pay him anymore. "Because we have history dumbass" he would say. 

Ah! More because he was never able to stitch her without being a blushing mess. Got threatened by Victor at least a thousand times for that. But hey, he was a "friend" and an useful one at that. If his help depended of a few titties / butt showing, she was ok with it. 

Victor had to make peace with it. He still points his gun at his forehead though, or shoot a few things or graze Carter's skin from time to time, but his crush on his wife was useful. The blond idiot would die for her, they both knew it. She never told Zsasz, but the other man was her first. This secret, as well as many others will follow her into the grave.

She chuckled. Damn, Victor would be livid if he ever heard about it. Maybe she should have told him, just to see with a sadistic pleasure his face twist in pure fury. He thought he killed all her previous lovers. How wrong he was, and how the truth was hanging just in front of him every time they had to go to Carter's clinic. Ah-ha.

Ugh! She was now tasting her own blood in her mouth. Fuck. The picture of her mouth full of blood made her think of Ed after Sofia’s torture session. Her dear Ed. The dork met her a bit after, grinning like a fool with his bloody mouth. 

"Man, red is also your color I have to say. The combination with the green suit is just stunning. Can give you a proper mouth beating anytime, it would be my pleasure" She mocked. His face was priceless.

Now she was shuddering. Cold. It was always cold in this city. Slowly, she moved her head to have a better view of the damages. Ugh. Her vest was ruined. Oswald will be mad. This one was a present he randomly gave her last year, arguing that since she never told anyone when was her birthday, he decided it would be on Halloween.

Fitting for a witch, he also added. She laughed. He was near the right date, to be honest. She was born in November. First November to be precise. Day of the dead. Well he would learn it during her funerals. Maybe even make her outfit. She hoped so. At least she would be walking to Hell's gates in the proper clothes to show everyone who was the boss down there.

Religious, her? No way. She made fun of Carmine once, when he tried to put some good Christian values in her head. "Carmine, there is no need for I will never reach heaven". He was a bit mad at her for this statement, and gave her a proper scolding, just before she got a proper yelling, when she had to add: "Good lord. Heaven. What for? I wouldn't know anyone here". He was absolutely livid.

Did he make it? To heaven? If someone she knew truly deserved to be here, no doubt he was the one. Maybe he was able to see his mother again. Liza? she hoped not.

Her vision started to fade slowly. Will she saw him a bit before being thrown into the pit of hell? Would he be the one to guide her to the afterlife if it really exists? It would be nice.

He wasn't her father but he told her once, during one of those calm nights before a big storm: "None of my children have understood Gotham like I have or you have, Y/N. You would be a very good queen for the city, if you wanted too." He contemplated his words a bit and added with a fond smile. "But we both know you're too smart to become the woman everyone wants to kill. You prefer playing your mind games and never clearly chose where you stand on the board."

It worked so far. Today was probably the last time she played the game. And she was losing. She always liked to quote Olenna Tyrell when she said the game of thrones was one you played or you died. Gotham was the same. Minus dragons. For now. You were never too sure with the city and its new monsters lately...

Look at Barbara, for instance. The bitch came back from the dead like Voldemort with the help of her antiquity of a boyfriend. See? You're never too sure in Gotham. Oh please, if she dies, make sure she wouldn't come back like Butch. It would be atrocious.

Again, she had to chuckle. Humour and sarcasm were always her favorite coping mechanism. Even now. Better than crying, isn't it? Crying for the years she may have lived, probably with Victor. Crying for the puns she will never make to Ed or Oswald. 

Those three, do they even realize how important they were in her life? She would have preferred not. But here they were. They knew her better than her parents, both dead many years ago. The three criminals appreciated her as much as they hated her, but always respected her skills, her intelligence and never underestimated her. Never. For that, she wanted to thank them.

Y/N took another wheezing breath. She would have loved to thank Gordon too. How interesting he made the city, how he contributed to change the game for the better and worse. How a good man he was, even with his flaws, and also probably because of them. Because he slowly accepted to acknowledge his dark side. Saves his life, if he didn't, he would have ended like Barnes.

She wanted to make fun of Harvey a last time. Damn, more than 15years making fun of the old cop... Creates links you know? He was like the uncle you want to call to make a prank or the one who, you know, would let you drink like hell even if you're underage and keep it a secret from your parents. Yeah. That kind of guy. She'll miss him.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She slowly tried to reach it. Not quick enough to catch it before it stopped though. Shit. With a shaking hand, she finally managed to pulled it out and turn it to look at the screen. Why did she even bother? 

She knew who was calling. And, since for the first time she didn't answer nor sent a text explaining why she wasn't able to, she knew he would immediately call back. And. Oh it started. Track her phone. When it buzzed again, she managed to press the green button.

"Dearest", she wheezed. "Hi."

The deafening silence on the other side of the line made her sigh. He was processing her terrible weak voice.

"Vic. I'm dying." She spoke again. She was never one to wrap thing in sugar and glitters. Both of them knew it and it was one of the reasons he was so fond of her, he told her once.

She heard him take a sudden breath,making her heart clench painfully. She knew what was coming.

"No. You're not."

Denial. Strong denial.

She gritted her teeth and tried to stay awake. Only a few minutes. Just enough to tell him what she had to. As if the gesture would help her to slow the inevitable, she clenched her vest.

"Victor..." She coughs a few times to spit out the blood in her throat and help her to be able to speak again. "... please. Take care of new Gotham..." another painful breathe and cough, "for she... is my legacy".

She was fading. She felt like the time she jumped to make a silly move she had seen in one of her games. But this time nothing will caught her at the end of her fall.

"Don't you dare", she heard him muttering. "Don't you FUCKING DARE Y/N!" and now the yelling. She was destroying him. She knew it. But for the first time, his pain didn't bring any smile on her face. On the contrary, she felt heavy tears roll down her cheeks and swore she was able to hear them crash on the pavement.

"I'm coming, Y/N. And when I'll be there, I'll make you regret making me feel like a fool." He muttered again. Anger and threats his way of coping. Letting him think he was controlling everything, even her death. 

Despite her situation she smiled but never stop crying. "You'll have to be... quicker than the devil himself." Her own voice sounded so distant. Maybe he said something but she would never know. It was too late. He will be too late. She took another breath, a strong shaking one. Only to be able to whisper:

"I love you."

She felt her hand letting go of the phone, she heard her arm smashing the ground loudly but felt no pain. She didn’t feel anything anymore. She could only listen. Listen to the distant voice yelling her name from the speaker of her phone. Then, nothing.

Everything went black. She lost the game.

--

A/N - To be continued?

I hope it was angsty enough for you my dear 🥰💐 have a beautiful day, take care.

#gotham #gotham imagine #gotham x reader #gotham fox #victor zsasz #victor zsasz imagine #victor zsasz x reader #gotham fandom #gotham villains #gotham oc #gotham villain x reader #gotham victor zsasz #Gotham Victor zsasz x reader

[straightfacedstrangeness]

Broly movie semi-liveblog because of reasons

I only ever watched the original Broly movie once or twice cus of the suuuper long fight scene ending (and I think it came out, or we borrowed it from Blockbuster, around the time I was losing interest in DBZ)…which is great cus watching it now after the reboot movie has me going in almost totally fresh

Krillin’s puppy song (and how he just pauses then keeps singing after the ship lands X’D so you just hear him wailing in the background during Paragus’ big speech)

Paragus: I’m starting a new planet and I want you to be king Vegeta: :/ Paragus: Uhh…there’s also this big strong bad guy and only YOU can stop him! Vegeta: :/ Trunks: Dad, don’t go with him Vegeta: DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! *goes out of spite*

Vegeta gets to the planet, gets his ear talked off by Paragus, sees Paragus’ whole army, doesn’t react to anything, but takes one look at the big buff shirtless dude covered in jewelry and decides “I want to be alone with that guy for a while” (Trunks: “DAD NO” Vegeta: “DON’T KINKSHAME ME”)

Son “cat trying to convince you it didn’t just eat five minutes ago” Goku

“Golly, who could the Legendary Super Saiyan be?” *shows a whole flashback of Broly being the Legendary Super Saiyan and names the movie “Broly: The Legendary Super Saiyan”*

Still gets me that the fan-favorite His Power Is Maximum villain’s weakness is that he flips out at the sight of the guy who cried in the crib next to him when they were babies

I’d still fight Master Roshi if I could risk getting within ten feet of him but thanks man for deflating the tension every time it gets serious here. And more importantly, giving my boy Oolong an actual reason to be here (designated driver). Which kinky freak on staff came up with that sequence of the two of them in bed together though?? XD

Realizing I haven’t seen the old DBZ movies since before my dad got his giant TV, and watching this thing in HD on a huge screen with surround sound blasting the doofy 2000s grunge rock songs shoehorned into the soundtrack just feels so wrong X’D

With Paragus’ whole thing being about trapping Vegeta on this planet so a comet can smush him, how much funnier would it have been if Goku had just shown up and immediately IT’d everyone back to Earth

This version of Broly is SO annoying, OMFG. Hulked-out glowing guy cackling about how he was gonna kill a child, “What do you expect from a true freak?! Wahaha~” Like 100% one of those guys who saw The Dark Knight and went “the Joker’s so dark and edgy, I wanna be just like him” Shut up already

Actually Broly’s fixation on hurting Gohan to upset Goku plus the Trunks-Vegeta dynamic could’ve made for an interesting subplot about father-son relationships, but nope I guess. Gohan and Trunks aren’t even in the reboot movie where they really dig into Paragus’ abuse of Broly (just a brief scene of Goten and Trunks calling Bulma for two seconds to tell her plot stuff)

Piccolo dragging Vegeta to the battle by his hair

I also actually love sad scared Vegeta because it makes him so much more interesting. Goku’s an excitable child whose relationship with martial arts is basically like a good work ethic, so he hears about someone stronger than him and gets all excited cus he wants to test his strength by fighting them. Vegeta’s an arrogant jerk generally used to getting his own way, so he hears about someone stronger than him and his first instinct is to go “pff, no way,” then when it’s clear the person IS much stronger he just shuts down. Probably a remnant of being terrorized and probably physically beaten by Frieza or his minions as a kid, cus you KNOW he wasn’t gonna just start taking orders from some guy who isn’t even his king dad

The classic DBZ squeaky foot noise when Broly walks...bless

“I’m the prince of all Saiyans, even you, Broly” “Then please try your best to make me kneel before you” Get a ROOM

“Did he really think I would die just because this planet is about to explode?”

*gives you my power, but in a tsundere way*

I’d been wanting to watch the first bunch of movies for a while since they use clips from em in the Ocean dub opening, but wound up with the 2nd movie set cus I found a good deal and the Broly reboot made me curious to revisit the original…now I’m torn between going on to Return Of Cooler & Super Android 13 my dumb funny beloveds, or going back to the 1st movie set and working my way up to truly Earn them XD

#dragon ball #rambling #goku #vegeta

[scarsinmysoul]

i experienced things

and i showed myself how strong i was

getting higher from the lows is much higher than my goals

since i came from school i worried about my goals,

in life there is no role

instead of being on your own

fuck this man i cant deny it

all this pressure i refuse to deny it

all this time i got pressure but refuse to deny it

i opened up about past distractions

like killin pain with the liquor and fake friends to rely on

got me falling down from the crown i was hopin’ to see my life getting worse so i started doping

i didn’t like it like i used to

you know what i mean getting elevated

was nothing like it used to-

it is opposite from levitating

damn what my crush aint leveling up

but i thought you was the one who figured it out nigga

nobody leaving it up for money making

i cried myself to sleep dreaming how i could make it

thinking of the verses of gods people trying to fulfill their promises

do i really got a purpose?

goddamnit god fuck you well you know i didn’t mean it

man what is going on with these love songs bitch

everybody heart broken trying to find their own love song shit

its enough struggle already fighting the lows in my pose thinking i lost my cause..

i refuse to deny it i fucked up but watch the snakes conquer

thought i was the problem making my way to my own troubles

facing my fears to the old struggles

here i won yet again an

unappreciated goal

fuck this shit

I FUCKING WON !

I see them struggling with my eyes in disguise

wanted to help but you lost your sight

the truth hurts but i cant help

but face your own fears and it might help

“c’mon lets do this together” but i lost sight

of the fake friends and blessings in disguise

nigga you made it look in the sky.

its the cries for help that you know.

how come i didn’t appreciate that now

when all i wanted was for it to end now

i hear that all the time you can make it

but Lord HOW?

guidance can be fake and you guys know how

i fell down from the top star

i was safe yet experienced lifes pain

it does both

fuck you up and gives you chances

for the dances in the blessings

and in the same places

you saw your death sentence.

its easy fuck it up

but don’t start begging

when you clearly didn’t want to do better.

lifes hard yes i said that

my wife keeps dragging me down

but guess who said that

the toughest part in your soul who couldn’t breakdown so its us againt the truth

but guess what… how?

we wait for the shootback of honor

you cowards don’t deserve to have a boner

you guys make me laugh

on your selfish dishonor .

be quiet don’t disturb

im on my purpose and i start to know

why im put on this earth

all the crying makes sense now

i never loved to focuse on the truth of manipulative behavior.

now i got it fuck you and your selfish behavior’s

finally im done with my own toxic ways

i know your jealous its far worse

no more self explanation for what its worth

all yall people made it worse

cmon now child i dont want to worry

bout the tears falling down while i tell my story

fuck it all up and try it again it will never end.

fears & pain relax and struggle with grace.

gurl you got this it’s your soul that remains.

truthfully you never stopped shining because you are kept save. the angels the fates

is the real disgrace

stop waiting for help

prince charming

come and save me

out of this psychiatrie

he aint even real

fuck me

and these dreams

i gotte save ME

damn it fuck me

alcohol is leaving my vains

carefully

im shaking

but you cant stop me

my brain keeps remainding me

of the times men came too close to me

Flashbacks of the times when

it happened

….

2020

took my breath away

I keep remembering

and I want to drink my pain away

(i guess it was me

and i saw the world a little too blurry.

stop downplaying it

it was sexual abuse

i refused to believe it

scared of gods judgment

too understanding for nothing)

who took my innocence away?

2023 and it happened again

wtf did I do?

past life karma to deserve all of this too?

didn’t happen just twice

but four to five times!

I can heal it on my own

but the scars in my soul

they have fully grown

but no worries.

i can do it own my own

like a big furry

down to earth was never my stomp story

these stories I created were just words

because i was dissociated,

my pain brought me into dark toughts

that weren’t accepted

after giving so much love

I just wanted to cease existence!

Nobody believed me tho

I can do it like billie

“no time to die” was the opposite of living.

daddy never saw me feeling dead

suicidal thoughts but he doesn’t care

all my friends were stuck up in bed

i had nightmares,

questionable realities,

feeling tired but had enough sleep

the cycle in the streets

is what brought me closer to me!

Slow down honey and take the truth in

stop quetion your reality

remember who you are

me myself and i that’s what i have

god i am so fucking tired

please lift me up

aware that it will all come to an end

the question is

when?

I grew strong in this game

i wont let you win

struggled too much

in your manipulative games!

They went so far in this drama

making me believe that it is

my karma

in this life of lies

all this time

i just tried to survive.

i am a worrier,

fighting

my mind,

people,

energies

plus+

other entities

Solar Plexus needed something

i could feel it grow stronger as i opened up

about my hunger

fuck you narcissistic beings

that trapped me in being

anxiously unhappy with MY being!

Hypersensitivity is doing the most

y’all could never understand

that I feel the most!

Sucking on my energie

schizophrenic thats what they called me.

whatever

I will be me

and be happy

nothing like you weak enteties

trying to feed off of

good peoples energies!

Remembering how Cole said

Change it slow always has been

always will be but fuck that imma bust back

until they kill me

i say

change it slow always has been

always will be but fuck that imma speak up

until they kill me

feel me?

ShaNice was

nice

is nice

and will always

stay Nice

You can’t break my Spirit!

[hoe4destiel]

Who Pissed In Your Lucky Charms?

Word count: 1.1k 

Overall Warnings: John being a neglectant POS dad, Strong language, graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of injuries, eventual smut.

Chapter Warnings: Strong language, mentions of violence, if you squint some of it can be read as homophobic, descriptions of injuries, and John being a neglectant POS dad.

Pairings, Dean Winchester x Fem!reader, Sam Winchester x Platonic!Reader, slight Sam Winchester x Jess (Mentioned) And John being a sad, lonely, dick wad that can’t get any.

Plot summary: Exhibit A of How Dean Winchester Was Royally Fucked Up By John Winchester.

A/N: I co-wrote the most part of this with @hoe-for-fictional-men, and she posted it on her blog as well!

My world ended on Dean Winchester's 17th birthday. See, instead of having a normal birthday, he went on his first solo hunt. On January 24, the day after my own birthday, his dad told him that it was time, that he was old enough, and mature enough to do it without him there.      

That was bull. 

I knew that.

Dean knew that, but he still went. 

When he came back, he was a different person. His green eyes no longer sparkled when he heard a classic rock song, and his smile that was once brighter than the sun became a shadow of its former self.

The only time he seemed like his old self was when he was with Sammy. I think that he reminds Dean of when he was that naive. When Sam was younger, Dean would take care of him while their dad went to hunt Yellow Eyes. 

I think that Dean spent more time raising Sam than John ever did. I remember one time, Sammy wanted a few books, but John was too busy to notice or remember.

 That night, Dean snuck out, and went to a pool hall. He played all night so that he could have enough money to buy those three books. 

The next morning, everyone was startled awake at 6:00 by a loud scream from Saean, Dad, and I came sprinting, expecting some form of monster to be attacking.  John didn’t give an fuck, and stayed in bed. Obviously sleep is more important than his son possibly being in danger.

Instead of a threat, there was a stack of books, sitting on the table, encased in Scooby Doo wrapping paper.

I wonder what that was like for him, having that pressure on him 24/7. I know what he told me, and I know what it was like when my Dad went to help Bobby and I had to take care of my siblings. 

Sometimes, my dad would have us stay with Dean and Sammy while helping John hunt Yellow eyes.  Then I could see what the life of a hunter’s boy was really like. 

On paper it sounds like one huge adventure, where it’s nothin’ but a good time,and you never know where you will wake up. But in reality it was the worst torture that you could condemn a child to.

Where each night was a new motel bed, and your only true home was a 1967 Chevy Impala. Never knowing if your family would come back, or if they would be on the 12:00 news. 

I always thought that hunters were noble people that could do no wrong, but on January 17, I was proved wrong. 

I thought that there was another reason for Dean going on his first hunt on his own, and I was right. 

⚡Flashback⚡

See, tonight John was lazy. He left his journal out, and I was gonna be nice and put it by his bed, so he wouldn’t lose it. But, when I was walking, I didn’t have a very good grip on the leather, and it slipped.

John has a lot of bookmarks, but he had today marked with a thick envelope. When I dropped it, it opened.

I couldn’t help it, and started to read. 

Dean turns seventeen today. We went shooting. Then I sent him out on his first hunt. I've let him take the lead before, but I was always there to back him up. This time he’s on his own. Partly it’s a test, and partly I wanted to spend some time with sammy. Should be no problem for dean. Ghosts of two nuns haunting st. Stephens Indian mission in riverton, wyoming. Simple salt-and-burn mission. Nuns in love with each other, then were discovered. Killed themselves. We scoped the situation out, figured that something must be left behind thats now a focus for the haunting. Bible, rosary beads, some small article that’s hidden somewhere in their room. I figured that dean would be fine, but I still stayed close with sammy.

That worthless little-! How could he? I understand wanting to spend more time with your other child, and yes, that's good. BUT NOT ON HIS BIRTHDAY!!!! 

Is it a good thing that he is trusted to go on hunts by himself? Yes. Is it a good thing to have to go kill dead people on his birthday, on his own for the first time, SO THAT YOU CAN SPEND MORE TIME WITH YOUR OTHER SON??? Not OK.

I power walked over to where John's bed was and said, “WAKE THE FUCKITY UPPITY SWEETHEART!” 

He bolted upright, a silver blade in one hand, a gun loaded with witch killing bullets in the other. 

John spotted me and lowered the weapons, letting out a sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ kid, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Holy shit.” 

He looked at my face and said, “Damn, who pissed in your lucky charms?”

Glaring at him, I made an attempt to lower my voice so that I wouldn’t wake Sam up,“Why in the name of Hell would you do that shit to Dean? Today of all days?” 

He looked like a kid that got caught stealing a cookie, but still tried to play dumb. 

“What are ya talkin’ about? Is Dean OK?” 

ARE YOU- Stopping myself from screaming at him, I whisper hissed, “John Eric Winchester, do NOT pretend like you don’t know exactly what you did.” 

If looks could kill, we would both be dead.

John just seemed to notice his journal open in my hand. “Why do you have that?” It was as if he thought that I had stolen it from his pocket when his back was turned.

“Maybe because you left it out??? AND I DIDN’T WANT IT LEFT BEHIND BECAUSE I KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO YOU??” At this point we were both quietly screaming at each other.

With that, Sammy yelled from the other room, “Dean’s back!”

Giving John one last glare, I turned on my heel to go check on Dean.

As I walked into the living room area, my breath caught in my throat, and my heart stopped beating for a full second. 

Dean was being held up by Sam, barely holding on to consciousness. Every visible inch of him was covered in blood, bruises, and grime. Dean gave me a half-hearted smile, then winced from pain.

“What the hell happened?” I asked while rushing to his side. There was a shallow slash across his left cheekbone, and a dark purple bruise on his jawline. His head lolled to one side, passing out on Sam's shoulder. “Shit! ”

#dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x Fem!reader #Sam Winchester x Platonic!Reader #Fuck you John Winchester

[bombingqueen]

1.03 Dead In The Water A.K.A Sins of the Father

Episode Rating 10/10

Monster of the Week : The Vengeful Spirit of Peter Sweeney

Road Map: Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin 2005

Favorite Quote: “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” - Andrea

Honorable Mention: “Kids are strong. You’d be surprised what they can deal with." - Dean

Song That Represents the Episode

Wow. Just Wow. I didn’t appreciate this episode when I first watched it but it is so freakin good. I have just so many feelings about this episode. The way the episode approaches trauma and loss whether it your own or someone else’s. Although, I did hate how Sam responded to Dean being concerned and vulnerable with a child:

Dean “… Lucas was really scared.”

Sam: “That’s what this is about?”

Dean: “I just don’t want to leave this town until I know the kid’s okay.”

Sam: “Who are you? And what have you down with my brother?"

This is the episode that made begin the Dean Winchester Protection Squad (DWPS). Sam…Sam…Sam. What can I say about Sam? Now he knows for a fact that Dean hated that he was terrified of the supernatural and did everything he could to protect him. Pretty sure every time Dean sees a traumatized child, he probably gets flashbacks to his own experience in their childhood. Like Sam, do you understand how much your brother loves you, how much he has had to sacrifice, and how much pain he has gone through to make sure your childhood was even remotely ‘stable.’ Like college boy, you probably would not have actually made it to Standford without Dean taking the brunt of John’s bullshit. Jesus Sam, it’s been two years, not a century. Give your brother a little credit. (Don’t tell me you are jealous of a child being coddled by Dean). The only thing I can think as to why he reacted the way he did is because the last 2 years before Standford, him and Dean must have been at odds.

Dean constantly trying to keep the peace between two stubborn dumbasses. Dean having to pick up the slack when Sam wouldn’t put in the effort; it probably caused a shit ton of friction between them. Sam probably saw it as a betrayal because it seemed like they were no longer a united front. Of course, he knows what Dean has done for him but those 2 years more than likely overrode some of those memories. Not one of Sam’s finest moments and one of the few times I will say that he was just being a dick. Sometimes I think that Sam wanted the ‘normal’ life so bad he started to separate and deny Dean the father and Dean the mother while latching on to Dean the brother. Affluent college kids aren’t gonna be all nice if they learned that he was a child raised by another child. Best to present a normal yet distant relationship so that he isn’t seen as freak (Sorry Sam. You can’t fix years of trauma and neglect under the care of another child).

Despite all of that, it makes interesting tv and helps elevate the episode even more. I was invested in the storyline and it made the characters feel more authentic. The Sam and Dean dynamic really felt like it had been finalized in this episode. Like they had the friction and vulnerability in the first two episodes but it was just so much more here. This episode is dear to me. I think the difference between how I feel about it now compared to years ago is due to the loss and trauma I have experienced myself.

Loss, Trauma, and Peter Sweeney

“Losing him – you know, it’s worse than dying.” – Ms. Sweeney

Outliving the life of a loved one, particularly children, is a recurring theme throughout the episode. That type of loss is devastating and the first thing a parent wants is often to take the place of their child. You become a shell of your former self. Because how do you move on from that? How do you rationalize the events that led to the loss of your child? That type of trauma can cause you to turn mean and bitter; it can make you feel hopeless and dejected. Peter Sweeney experienced a trauma that was incomprehensible. Peter was a young victim of violence that did not get justice because his abusers put themselves in a position of power to make sure that the truth was never discovered. Being so young, Peter may not have understood the concept of injustice but I’m sure he felt the ripples of his mother’s pain. And considering the years that he was left without justice, that terror he felt at the moment of his death had festered into rage. It made sense that he went on to escalate the situation and punish his abusers by taking away their loved ones.

The Winchester brothers have such an intimate relationship with loss and trauma that it honestly transcends grief itself. The reason I bring this up is because of Sam’s first death. Sam’s first death has such a unique consequence in regards to Dean’s subsequent behavior and attitude towards Sam in later seasons. Dean lost so much more than a brother that day. He lost a son and he also lost a part of his soul. Sam and Dean are soulmates and their bond often transcends that very concept; the bond that they share cannot be fit within the confines of an earthly definition of a relationship. It goes beyond brotherhood and it goes beyond love itself. To me, this episode is a prelude to how Dean will react after Sam’s first death because for Dean losing Sam was worse than dying and he was never the same again.

Social Work Sidenote: Dean did so much right when interacting with Lucas. He made sure to interact with Lucas on his level and at his pace. He was open and did not try to force Lucas to move past his trauma. He made sure that the kid would be emotionally safe with him and talked to him with compassion and understanding. This one of my favorite Dean episodes.

Now on to my favorite tidbits of the episode.

Andrea insulting Mr. Casanova (Dean)

Dean stopping at nothing to protect Lucas

Dean’s connection with Lucas and their bond over losing a parent and using their silence as a method to gain back their control

Dean encouraging Lucas to be brave and not telling him to man up

Dean putting Sam in his place at the restaurant

Dean protecting Lucas emotionally

Sam learning about Dean’s trauma during childhood

#samdean #sam winchester #dean winchester #the epic love story of sam and dean #wincest #1.03: Dead In The Water #Spotify

[sillypotcookie]

‘WIP’ Naviagtionesssss~ (@  o  @’‘‘)

🔫 Pew! Pew! 🔫 ...... (==  u  ==‘‘‘‘)

Soooooooo~ what my brains’ coming up this week isssssss~, due to y’all getting more and more *put in grateful guinea pig squeek*, that i wanna finally categorize stuff on here! (@ A @’‘‘) I’m gonna take full advantage of tumblrs feat’s and open a billion sideblogs! And another billion on top! And more sideblogs and forever sideblogssss!!!! 💥🙌💥 Kiddin’ aside~ i find myself open up more and more sideblogs to better ‘seperate’ for example lifestages or groups or in general to give me a better overview and maybe y’all, for those interested, a chance to avoid stuff for those who are not into gore and /or don’t wanna get your day ruined by post’s with abusive content orrrrrrrrr i ‘dunnooooo~ (@ ... @’’’) So i found this pinned thing to be a neat shortcut because i myself tend to loose the overview when i have to click and scroll through a billion different things in my tumblrs given drafts. Not to mention how confusing it must be for some of you to scroll from happy beach pics to a ‘flashback’, to a storypost from one timespan to another one in a complete different timespan, to a build wip up until to a random ingame pigeon (which i find both, entertaining as well as fucking terrifying!!!) when you actually just wanna check out on ... for example the stuges, mhmmmkeeeeh~? (@ vv @)

So the all in all idea is that this, sillypotcookie, is my basecamp with reblogs, WIP takes and what ever else comes along the way <(@  O  @)> Please hold the line and bear with me as this blogs will be under construction for .... well, some time because i have no idea what i’m doing but at least i know the raw direction, alright~? (@ vv @’‘‘)

I wish everyone reading this a nice and good morning/day/evening/night/twillight time ahead~ (@ o @)>

‘Character’s Page’ thingy - here~   (big and ongoing WIP (@ u @’‘‘) )

‘Songs of the small town Island’ Stuff - here~  (centered around Luca and the gang on Rockwood Island and Boroughsburg)

‘.. feigned Happy End’ - here~  (centered around Nimura and Ryan on Rockwood Island)

‘Purgatory Dreams’ Story Project Thingy Popingy - here~  (centered around the ‘coma dream’ of Ryan after his suicide attempt. TW Warnings: suicide, gore, blood, monsters, horror, drug abuse)

‘Singing the old songs’ - here~  (centered around the timespan in Sao Paten when Ryan was between 18 til 26 years old)

‘Bitter sweet lullaby’ - here~   (centered around the timespand in Sao Paten when Ryan was around 12 years old)

‘we have cookies here’ - here~   (centered around the entire purgatory realm and it’s inhabitants)

‘.. the silenece before the storm ...’ - here~  (centered around the timespan after Peter’s death when Ryan moved to Nimura in Boroughsburg)

‘.. faint terrors haunting’ - here~  ( centered around the early memories and forming experiences of Aki Ryan. TW Warnings: child abuse, sexual abuse, drug abuse, human trafficing, blood, strong language)

#höööööööölp! #(@ A @) #somewhat sims i guess #navigationessssssss

[notachair]

lmao not me realizing all the trailers passed me by XD so here's me reacting to each trailer

Info: caught up with the manga, tho not really any spoilers

Einar & Thorfinnnnn my brotherssss

that "they're beasts, monsters in human skin" with tiny thorfinn's blank look a tiny child body standing in a burning battlefield 👌

I see which scenes they're putting their money into

bless, the anime made his scruffy looks look good XD lowkey gonna miss scruffy manga Thorfinn (admittedly while reading it even for a second time I was "I'm looking forward to seeing that fucking beard gone")

the moth thing is still so fucking hilarious

bruh what are they using all the best lines and moments in even one trailer for?

a-anime Snake 😳

fucking Canute. 😒 and omg short haired Canute!

!! more Canute scenes???? 👀

Ulf!

Who's that redhead being crowned? Harald? OMG THAT MEANS-?? 🥺 (fuck.) better see more of that sister. 😒

I see some I thought to be blondes are redheads here but glad about that small diversity

Oh that eye thing fancy

May we get a Canute in his seat resting/sleeping with a book over his face? 👉👈

Head time.

that "from today on you'll be friends" and about though it's literal, that combined with "cultivate, invest, harvest it" <3

Omgggggg more young Thorfinn scenessss

Also just, the cut on his ear is different now

*splat* (could say something more profound but I choose not to try articulate it)

Einar utilizing that macho voice, investing in Thorfinn's life and will to live.

Bro. 🥺 -

- Bro. 🥹

AAAHHH THE OP SONG!! I'm liking it, the vibe is certainly something

yesyes give me more flashback of that rabid kiddo

oh. looking back. it's thorfinn pov. it reminds me of a fight I read when I caught up just this weekend, it was interesting. I thought that way of visualizing it was a rather cool choice

sister gets to talk now, interesting how that line is framed there, true enough I guess thorfinn come over to make him laugh

those conehead brothers, are they emphasizing it? XD

ah those brothers huh. call that a Wake Me Up (vIOleNCE edition)

you're making me dizzy with those waves man

them dehydrated muscles 🥵 /s

"The strong kills the weak, it's only natural" 🧐S3 material (it was thorfinn saying that right?)? cause like, bruh-

idk what's up with that last frame of Thorfinn but yea he angsty (can I just gush about how I love how we gradually saw him become more expressive and smiley throughout the manga? like- 🥺 that's it mate)

RISE UP LIKE A PHOENIX- okay I just... yea... I've hyped myself up for this season and I'm genuinely so excited, the first 2 eps sticks very closely to the manga still so ✨

"I'm going to be reborn" + image of rising a farming tool to start making a field = farmland saga being all about "cultivating, investing and harvesting" a better You from the ashes of your former self that forms your heavy cloak

They really did get that beard looking thick huh, it's interesting. Like, the scruff in the manga made it sorta hard to see the connection between pre and post scruff face as "just add scruff to the face" cause it changed his face so much. Also damn does that make him look older than he is when it's a full beard, mate's like 19-22, sis did a good decision with that one.

This ED gets me fucking teary okay

💅

glad we're doing the falling thing, tho OP be drowning

CRISP, 1. literally and 2. not, in that order

imagine if Thorfinn did a manbun instead (oh- now I lowkey wanna draw a joke w the ponytail)

Pretty Thors profile with the contrast and other highlight (hm. imagine if he gained that same wavy gene)

Pretty eyes Canute what else is newt

Yes cry it out! 💪

I need my boys to cry it out together, bless 🙏

okay but oboi those parallels/foils with Canute this arc

#vinland saga #vinland saga s2 #my rambles #Youtube #vinlandsaga #vinland saga season 2