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#the relationship before marriage? because it almost sounds like he believes on is on its way
fideidefenswhore · 2 years
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Consideration for the Princess Mary is thought to have been one of Jane's uppermost [concerns] as she moved into her role as consort, but whether it was simply political or indeed sincere is another question. She apparently approached the subject with Henry just prior to Anne's arrest: 'Mistress Semel [...] suggested that the princess should be placed in her former position; and the king told her she was a fool, and ought to  solicit the advancement of the children they would have between them, and not any others. She replied that in asking for the restoration of the Princess she conceived she was seeking the rest and tranquility of the king, herself, her future children and the whole realm; for, without that, neither [Charles V] nor [the English] people would ever be content.' Her concern for Mary may [well] have been genuine, but her timing was impeccable. She safely voiced her concern surrounded by her family and friends at court who opposed the Boleyns. What is interesting in this exchange is the speculation of Jane's motives, combined with the king's reaction: he defined the role he expected her to fit into, in this case, he gave clear indication that she should concern herself with the business of the children she would have with him, not any other. Politics aside, she was expected to produce an heir and focus her attention on the dynastic issue of her future family. At the very least, Henry had convinced himself that there would be children between them and sought to remove her from any central political role to that of consort and mother. Jane was a hope for the future, but Henry set out immediately placing a definition on where her concerns should be and what his expectations obviously were.
Jane, The Quene (Pamela M. Gross)
#the 'them and not any others' would suggest he already had a firmly set mind for how the near-future parliamentary succession act was#going to shape out#also. there wasn't a coup against edward vi. so it would seem she was ; actually; wrong (something not brought up much)#(at least in regards to her future children; that is)#and. frankly. in regards to charles v as well. charles v made an alliance with henry without that. henry well had the measure of that.#(one kind of wonders if her own source for that was chapuys himself. or one of his points of connection/ sources at court thirdhand )#although if his reign had been longer#...who is to say. maybe there would have been one backed by mary. but i think the idea of mary is that she honored henry viii's final#succession act/ will too much to have ever done that (which...eh. she did and she didn't. she certainly didn't wed with parliament's#consent. so)#nor keep her status unchanged re: legitimacy#i don't really believe in weir's theory but the confidence of 'the children they would have between them'... hm. maybe they had consummated#the relationship before marriage? because it almost sounds like he believes on is on its way#*1#i've outlined that for one of my fics just bcus i think it's more fictionally interesting. whocan really know#i know a lot is made of how so many of his marriages ended (for obvious reasons) but man is this not a particularly romantic beginning#and i don't even mean anne's arrest (altho . clearly that too)#but already calling her a 'fool' ? damn. maybe she had already accepted the proposal or maybe he was letting her know in no unsubtle terms#that he could always make another choice...since officially the betrothal date isn't until may 20#could do without the woobification of this marriage tbh! hirst and weir i am looking at you's
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toastandjamie · 2 months
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Sometimes I think about the way Tuon and Mat’s relationship is set up before Tuon is introduced. We are introduced to the Seanchen, and they are active antagonists and then Rand drives them from Falme back into the sea. Then one book later we get the Aelfinn prophecy “to die and live again. To marry the daughter of the nine moons. To give up half of light of the world to save the world.” And it’s sandwiched in between these two very frightening prophecies of danger. Mat treats the marriage aspect as just as much of a threat as literal death and that’s utterly fascinating to me; but we as an audience are also alarmed by this prophecy, not for the same reasons as Mat but because the title “daughter of the nine moons” isn’t exactly the most friendly sounding name. We spend the rest of the book wondering who she is right alongside Mat and as we get closer to meeting her we are given more distinctly threatening foreshadowing. First we learn about the Court of The Nine Moons which confirms that Tuon is Seanchen and right on its heels Egwene receives a prophetic dream vision of Mat being wrestled to the ground and collared by a Seanchen woman. The Seanchen remain as a threatening antagonistic force at this time with the only allied characters from Seanchen we’re introduced to are desenters like Aegenin. Then there’s the way Mat talks about his future marriage, discussing with equal parts curiosity and fear and saying things like “the daughter of the nine bloody moons will walk in to take me.”. And finally the Seanchen invasion of Ebou Dar, where Mat is knocked unconscious by falling building and the reveal of the daughter of the nine moons arrival. We don’t yet know what life under Seanchen occupation is like for those not actively fighting it since we’ve only seen the violent occupation of Amadicia and Tanchico.
Even if we as an audience aren’t conscious of it RJ sets up this expectation that Tuon will “steal” or “take” Mat by force. That Mat is going to be captured by her and forced into this marriage by fate. Only to have our expectations subverted when Tuon is- well, not quite the towering and evil figure that we expect her to be. That Mat is being kept in Ebou Dar not by the Seanchen who have done nothing to restrict the coming and going of civilians but by Tylin who has only grown More abusive and possessive since A Crown of Swords. Then Tuon asks Tylin if she can buy Mat and for moment you might think that things are back on track but then Mat kidnaps her and we’re once again thrown for a loop. Over the course of their courtship we see the push and pull of their dynamic, as they play their own mini version of daes da mar to see who holds the power in their relationship and it remains constantly influx. This subversion of what we expect Tuon to be mirrors Mat’s own surprise over who Tuon is. Mat has always been endlessly human to the audience, we’ve seen him struggle and grow as a person, we’ve seen him fuck up and we’ve seen him succeed. He was always human to the audience and to the people who perceive him in universe. Tuon conversely, is set up as almost an omen of doom, an ever present and impossible to escape fate that the audience and the character fear. We see her as the world sees her, she’s inhuman, a concept, something to be looked upon with curiosity and fear. Then as Mat learns about her, so does the audience, we peel away the layers of mythologizing that Seanchen and the foretellings have placed upon her to see that she is just as human as Mat. Just as curious and scared of a fate she can’t escape, of a man she knows shes destined to marry but knows nothing about. The prophecy she receives about Mat is just as threatening as the one Mat receives and she reacts similarly with anger hiding her fear. Both believe the other will steal them away and in the end they both DO steal eachother, for Tuon in the literal sense and for Mat the metaphorical.
God I’m so feral about them
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veraghost · 2 years
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𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮... ❤️‍🔥 - kenma kozume
f!reader x pro gamer!kenma
a/n: i finally got an idea for a fic, hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! also happy valorant championship!
wordcount: 1.4k
warning(s): nsfw content, explicit smut, over the phone sex, overthinking, believing he’s cheating, the word “panties”, established relationship, all characters are aged up, mentions on marriage, engaged kenma
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Dating a professional gamer had always been a little difficult for you, but it was all worth it in the end. When Kozume had proposed to you when you had been travelling Europe for the World Championships of a game he played, right before he won the final match, you decided then and there that ultimately everything would be worth it. But now, when you’re alone in the apartment he pays for, watching him play through a screen, cheering him on from the comfort of your room, you can’t help but miss him - a lot.
The apartment was quiet, more than normal. You can’t hear Kenma’s PC running or the gunshots from his game as you prepare dinner. The shower only running when your in it, no jingles from his monitor from people donating money, just silence and the sound of the air conditioning running. You can’t even call him, he’s busy practicing for yet another Championship, and you feel alone. 
Usually he’s not away for this long, taking a weekend or a bit more before you can wrap yourself in his arms again, but it’s almost been a week, with little “good morning’s” and “goodnights” keeping you from overthinking. He says its because there’s “a lot more competition this year” and that the “stakes are higher” and you believe him, you really do. But there’s a voice in your head telling you otherwise. You’ve tried to block it out, but tonight it get’s the better of you. 
Pacing your room, trying to calm yourself down from overthinking, from doubting your loving fiancé, you’re taking deep breathes, calming your nerves and remembering all the happy memories you’ve had together. Taking a final deep breathe, you’ve finally calmed yourself down enough to realize your phone is ringing. Running to pick it up, not even bothering to see who it is, and when you hear his voice on the other side you almost melt.
“Ken! I miss you so much! How’s the tournament going?” You ask him excitedly, this is the first time since he left that you heard his voice, thankful he’s decided to call. “Hi baby, the tournament’s going well, we’re the favourite to win this year and hopefully the polls are right. But listen, I think the team and I are gonna be here for awhile,” he starts, and you can feel your heart drop.
“Maybe about a week more, I know it’s a long time but the matches are long and the team and I are really trying our hardest to get home soon but it’s not looking too great, I’m so sorry.” He explains, and he almost sounds like he’s gonna... cry? All the thought’s you’ve been trying to hold back, comes rushing in, and before you can even think, before you can remind yourself that this is Kozume you’re talking about - your boyfriend since third year, that you dated all throughout university, that has never even looked at another girl let alone been interested in one. “Did you find someone else in Turkey?” You blurt out, and you can’t even say anything after, too embarrassed because you thought something like that.
“Baby, what?” He asks, he doesn’t even sound mad, it sounds almost like  disappointment. “Listen to me, I am in love with you - for Gods sake we’re engaged -  I haven’t even looked at another girl the way I look at you let alone thought of one. I’m gonna send you a link, I want you to open it, and before you say anything I need to explain everything to you.” When the text pops up you open the link right away. 
“𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒”
“This is the website for the Championship, if you ever and I mean - ever - doubt anything about what I’m doing here, check this website. It’ll tell you the games for the day and how long they should last, what teams are going home and when, and any other details you would possibly need.” He explains, and you see his team name with another four games within the next few days, seeing he’s going up against the best of the best.
Friday, September 2nd
11am - Bounce VS FNT
2pm - Bounce VS PRX
5pm - Bouce VS DRX
Saturday September 3rd
9am - Bounce VS TBD
All of his games are right there, and you expect to
“Ken, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking and-” “Shhh, it’s okay I get it, I haven’t really talked to you this whole week and I’m sure you’ve missed me because I miss you, so much,” he interrupts you, and you’re glad for it, one thing Ken has taught you is to never feel bad for feeling emotions, and never blame yourself for feeling them. “How can I make it up to you?” He asks, and you honestly don’t know, he’s ten hours away, you don’t even know how he’s awake that early.
“You know, it’s been awhile since we’ve done anything, yknow, sexual.” He brings up, and you audible laugh at it, is this really his way to get you to have phone sex?
“Ken, are you really horny right now? I just talked about how I thought you were cheating and all of a sudden you wanna jerk off?” You laugh, and he chuckles a little too at how ridiculous it sounds. “No no, not like that. I know you’re probably sitting in our bedroom, one of my shirts on because you always do that when I’m away, probably little panties on - if any. No bra on either, because you’re home alone and have no need for one,” and he keeps rambling on, and soon enough those panties are discarded, lying somewhere on the floor. 
Your eyes are shut, and you listen to every move your fiancé tells you to do, letting him control your body from a distance, and you hear the way his voice shudders when he tells you he can hear how wet you are, the little squelching noises being the only other sound in the room other than your moans and his voice. 
“Feel good?” He mumbles into the phone, getting off on your little pants and moans of his name, telling him how you wish it was his cock fucking into him, begging him to let you cum. He loves it - he loves you - and can’t wait to be home, and god does he miss you. 
“So good, so so good Kennie, I wanna cum, can I cum? Please I’ve been good, and when you get home I’ll be even better, make you feel so good.” You ramble on, resisting the urge to speed up even more, to chase the orgasm you want so desperately. 
“Go ahead and cum darling, I’m right here, go a little faster for me yeah? Reach that little spot only I can hit for me,” He urges you on, and he speeds up too, wanting to feel the high with you, and you do, you cum hard on your fingers. “Don’t stop.” He tells you, practically commands you, and your body can’t help but listen, your fingers don’t even slow down, throwing you into overstimulation. 
You cum a second time, and a third, all with Kozume’s help. “I miss you Ken, so much.” You say for the second time that night. You’ve both cleaned up, your in one of his Kodzuken hoodies - one that’s much too big for you, but you love them, no panties on, and just snuggle into the covers, getting warm.
“I miss you too baby, hold on just a little longer, I’ll be home before you know it okay? Win the entire thing for my future wife.” He tells you, and with the tone in his voice you know he’s not lying, being completely truthful for you. 
You spend the next hours talking, catching up on a weeks worth of news, and you think this is longest Kenma has spent on the phone - even with you - he hates phone calls, always opting to text since it’s much more reliable. When he falls asleep on the phone with you, you can’t help but stay on call all night, not having the heart to hang up on him, wanting to spend as much with him as possible.
When he comes back a few days later, much earlier than expected, you watch his highlight reels on YouTube with him, amazed that he’s this good at a game. When you check Twitter later that night you smile a little to yourself, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness.
“𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 - 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊”
𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐕𝐏 𝐊𝐎𝐃𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐄𝐍 - “The team dedicated this to my lovely fiancée who has not only supported me during this long road to Championships twice, but also the entire team. I love you, and I can’t wait to see what our future holds.”
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leantailean · 8 months
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I really love Toko, but i feel like its often constrained, largely due to the age gap. Like stories will often either be set in post-canon, or the characters will be aged up. Do you feel like that holds true and if yes do you feel like there's a dynamic that i'm missing. And post-canon is fun to explore, but i feel like the most interesting story telling is generally set while the war is ongoing. Conversely i feel like aging up Zuko would be fairly disruptive to his journey. Not that i think those are bad things, i'm really liking Third Time's the Charm that plays with the latter, and arranged marriage which to feels like a very natural trope for them, and obviously i love your art. They say for a reason that constraints inspire creativity. I'm just curious about your thoughts about that.
Hi! Thanks for the ask and sorry for the late reply (sickness prevented me from replying)
I have a lot to say about this, so let’s begin (it’s a loooooong answer).
Age gap is the most common argument against toko I’ve heard. And, to be honest, I find it really strange. You see, Aang and Zuko have the same age gap, and almost the same have Sokka and Toph, and nevertheless Tokka and Zukaang are quite widespread and supported ships, and no one cares for the age gap. That’s why I don’t really see why people believe that age gap as an issue in Toko.
And this argument sounds strange also because If relationship, even romantic one that are originates from friendship are starting to built it doesn’t mean they immediately become sexual. Kataang is canon and beautiful, but in reality several years should pass for them before they step into that kind of relationship. I’m even uncomfortable to think about Maiko having sexual activity in the canon, when they both are around 16.
Besides, it is difficult to imagine Zuko anything but aro/ace to me.
 Toko's relationship originates from similar life experiences and mutual support for each other. This is not a love at first sight, but a gradually developing "friends-lovers" relationship. Which, by the way, completely similar with other canonical pairs, such as kataang.
Also I think that this argument originates from extremely wrong, primitive fanon interpretation of Zuko and Toph. Usually Zuko is depicted super mature and super experienced dude (all that dadko bullshit, omg), and they prefer to see Toph as some tomboy-ish brat (here in Russia people call such girls “the guy from the next yard”), rude, not serious and childish. Nothing can be farer from the truth.
In fact, Zuko is emotionally underdeveloped, traumatised and rather infantile due to the abuse he experienced. He Is a teenager with serious anger issues and bad social skills.
Toph is, otherwise, one of the most mature gaang members. She is able to understand and listen to other people , and she never demand anything back (“Yes, thank you Toph”. Indeed it woul be very nice of Sokka and Suki to thank her for saving their lives). Despite her guarding her boundaries carefully she is always open to other people and she is in good contact with her own emotions (which is what Zuko lacks). So in their relationship, at least that the very beginning Toph would be the most mature side (although it’s fair for every possible Zuko’s partner, such as Maiko, Zukka or Zukaang).
 So I don’t think that Toko is having any problems in that sense.
On the one hand, I agree that it’s the most interesting when the relationship somehow develops during canonical events, and not in the post-canon. But in this case, this applies to absolutely any couples, except of maiko, kataang and sukka, since they are the only ones developing during the war. Any possible other relationships, such as Tokka, or Zukka, or Zukaang, can exist only in  post-canon if canonical couples break up for some reason. Again, Toko is no exception in this case.
Zuko and Toph's relationship (doesn’t matter friendly or romantic) did not get the development  they deserve in the third season. In fact, their relationship was just thrown under the bus because of the sloppy writing of the entire third season (to give Zuko one episode with each member of gaang  just to check the box, like "mission accomplished" and give almost not developing of his relationship with each of them outside of these episodes. And Toph was robbed even of this). But despite this, toko still has more then any other fanon ships (although “Boiling Rock” is definitely a very Zukka episode). We see that Toph was the first one who believed Zuko, and not just believed - she actively defended him in front of the others and made an attempt to have a chat with him herself. It is important: the fact that Zuko's relationship with Toph is radically different from any other ones with the rest of the gaang member, since she was not with them when Zuko actively hunted the Avatar, and their first close interaction was after his redemption, when he became the best version of himself. Toph has no personal negative experience with him, and Zuko does not  feel guilty towards her, and with her he doesn’t need to make up for anything, and this is very important.
Strangely enough, but, one of the most Toko moments of the show is the moment in which Zuko and Toph do not interact personally: the meeting of Iroh and Toph. She is also the first from gaang who met and even, one might say, became friends with Iroh. Iroh, who has always been Zuko's father figure is talking to Toph about real Zuko. Not about the imperialist prince cruelly pursuing the last hope of the world - the way Sokka, Katara and Aang knew him - but about just a boy only Iroh, his closes person, knew. In addition, Iroh, who knows and loves Zuko, says how much he and Toph have in common (Iroh is the first and main Toko shipper, and I will die on this hill). Narratively and dramatically, this is an amazing moment, and I will fight with anyone who says that Toko has little canonical content: any other Zuko ships can only dream about such a moment.
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It is also interesting that it is with Toph that Zuko has the most sincere conversation about his guilt towards his uncle. He talked about it with Sokka and with Katara, but it was Toph who was able to tell him the right words that really comforted him and make him smile (seriously, this is the best smile Zuko has ever seen, and it happens during his conversation with Toph!)
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We see that they feel extremely comfortable and open with each other, even though they barely know each other.
Toph is the only girl in the canon made Zuko to blush, just a fact. And Toph, in her turn, openly talks to Zuko her feelings for him (I'm not saying that her feelings were already romantic at that time ). "This is how I show affection" is just the best moment.
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We can talk about many other canonical points that are important for toko: the similarity of characters and life experience - both Zuko and Toph are from the upper class, both grew up in abusive families and both know what it is to feel unloved by their own parents. The Blue Spirit/Blind Bandit is one of the most interesting and direct parallels of Toph and Zuko - an alter ego that they needes to get away from theirs social roles (a prince and a young lady from an aristocratic families). This is the same direct parallel as the canonical pair has: The Painted Lady/Kuzon. Just as Aang and Katara need alter egos to help others people which is the core of their characters and unites them,Toph and Zuko need alter ego in order to satisfy their own desire for freedom, which they cannot satisfy in any other way.
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They are both disabled, forced to deal with the fact that people judge them by their disability and appearance, forced to prove every day what they are more than their disability. Again: neither Zuko nor Toph share such an experience with anyone else, only with each other.
So canonically, toko has a lot of support - certainly no less than any other fanon ship.
After all, they look amazing together.
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Also, I just love the moment with kissing doves. Seriously, ATLA rarely show us such a perspective, why they needed to place such a scene in the same shot with Toph and Zuko as if it were foreshadowing their future relationship? God, I love it!
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I really like to explore the post-canon, especially since  I don’t consider comics and LOK to be canon, although it doesn't even matter - nothing in them contradicts the idea that Toph and Zuko could be together at least at some point in their lives.
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To explore  alternative universes for toko, such as the arranged marriage plot, is also a very interesting, and it would be great to talk about it another time.
Thank you for the question, I think my thoughts turned out to be a little messy, but I hope it could be interesting to you.
________
Let's talk about TOKO!
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Lover Please (Negan Smith)
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 Negan Masterlist
Warning: mention of cheating, angst
Summary: Story inspired by the song - Lover Please by Melissa Etheridge. You find out that your husband has been cheating on you.
Dividers created by @firefly-graphics​  
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A shot in the dark
I woke up to find
You had broke all the rules
And you changed your mind
It was almost midnight, and you were sitting in the dark living-room; head buried in your hands as you silently cried into them.
Your phone lying on the table in front of you, the text message from your friend, Tina still open on its screen.
“He didn’t see me, but I saw him, thought I should let you know…”
Right below that message was a picture of your husband; arms wrapped around another woman as he passionately kissed her.
Negan and you had been happily married for three years now, or so you had thought… because according to the picture your friend had just sent you, it was perfectly clear that your husband had been stepping out on your marriage.
*
Didn’t I love you good?
Didn’t I love you right?
Then tell me where are you going
Dressed to kill tonight?
Oh, this one’s gonna hurt like hell
Friends and family had warned you back then about marry Negan, warned you that he was a womanizer.
You didn’t listen to them though, you foolishly believed he would change once your relationship had gotten serious.
Oh, you were foolish alright… foolish to believe that you could ever change him.
Foolish to believe that your love would be enough to keep him faithful.
*
Answer my prayer
And answer the phone
Think twice about it, honey
Turn around and come on home
You had called his phone twice immediately after getting the message, but it had gone straight to voicemail.
You even contemplated on sending him a text not to come home, along with the picture but quickly change your mind; you wanted to confront him face to face.
Now all you had to do was patiently wait for his arrival home while your heart slowly died as the time ticked by for him to get here.
*
Lover, stop!
Lover, don’t!
Lover, stop!
Lover, lover, please
This wasn’t the first time that Negan had cheated on you, there had been quite a few women he had been seeing behind your back when the two of you had first started dating.
It had hurt when you found out about it, but the relationship was still fresh then.
You both were still testing the waters; trying to see whether there was a real future for the two of you, so you decided to remain silent about it; giving him the opportunity to decide what he truly wanted.
After a few months into your relationship; you couldn’t handle it anymore though and decided to confront him about it.
*
It’s the same old tune
I have sung before
It’s the same game
It’s just a different score
When you confronted Negan about the other women; he apologized and begged you for a second chance and swore to you that he was done with that life. That you were the only woman he wanted, the only woman that he loved.
And the fool that you were, you believed him.
You believed that he had grown out of his old ways and was finally ready for a committed relationship, a faithful relationship.
Unfortunately, you were dead wrong.
*
If there was just one thing
I could call my own
It would be your love
That’s sinking like a stone
Oh, this one’s gonna hurt like hell
You woke up to the sound of the car pulling up in the driveway.
Looking to the clock on the wall, you notice that it was well past after 2am.
You try as best to compose yourself before he enters into the house; fixing your hair and wiping away the tears that had stained your cheeks.
*
Answer my prayer
And answer the phone
Think twice about it, baby
Turn around and come on home
The door rattles a bit as Negan unlocks it, and you silently watch as he enters into the dark living-room.
Reaching to switch on the lights, Negan is caught off-guard at seeing you sitting at the table.
“Hey, whatya doing sitting in the dark?” he stares at you with an awkwardly surprised smile.
You don’t respond, choosing to silently stare at him instead.
“Baby, you ok?” Negan looks at you in concern.
You silently stare at him for a few more seconds, shaking your head at him in response then as one last silent tear ran down your cheek.
*
Lover, stop!
Lover, don’t!
Lover, stop!
Lover, lover, please
This one’s gonna hurt like hell…
Part 2
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walriding · 6 months
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character info sheet.
Name. Miles Luis Upshur Ramírez
Name meaning. Miles -- Latin, soldier. Luis -- Spanish, famous warrior or renowned fighter. Upshur -- English, literally just means 'from the upper shire', but the fun fact significance is that Upshur was the middle name of the famous American journalist Bob Woodward. Ramírez -- Spanish, wise / renowned ruler / counselor
Alias.( ses ). Fun Mount Massive nicknames: the Host, the Apostle, the Witness, Little Pig, buddy, etc. As far as actual aliases, he's used various combinations of his four names on fake IDs before -- i.e. Luis Upshur, Miles Ramírez, etc.
two pictures you like of your character.
The money shot, the big cryptid moment, the only third person view we canonically have of Miles:
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2. Probably what I consider to be the definitive Oscar-as-Miles photo, one of the things I saw and was instantly assured of my FC choice. It might sound stupid but Oscar is such an irrevocable part of Miles to me. I can't see him any other way, and having such a strong visual representation of him has always been a huge help in making him feel real for all these years:
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three headcanons you never told anyone. Disclaimer that I have probably mentioned all of this at some point but it's been seven years of writing this guy and I fear I'm out of completely new material lol
He's never been much of an exercise buff but Miles used to be into running. He had a set circuit when he lived in DC and tried to keep a consistent schedule even when traveling for work. Never got to marathon level but did a lot of 5 and 10Ks, even a half marathon here and there. But it's not something he does anymore largely because there's... really no point. One of the benefits of being possessed and also kinda dead is you don't need to workout! Yaaaaay! Unfortunately without the endorphins and the satisfaction of exertion, running has lost its luster.
Prior to Mount Massive, Miles had a long-term boyfriend from college until they were in their late 20s. The last couple years of it were a tumultuous on-and-off-again relationship that started to deteriorate after he lost his staff reporter job and had to travel more. Prop 8 meant that same sex marriage was off the table, but they talked about engagement and building a serious life together. If Miles hadn't lost his job he probably would've proposed. But, then, if he hadn't lost his job a lot of things would've been different.
Miles is genuinely obsessed with roadside tourist traps -- giant balls of twine and other objects, weird architecture, fake alien sites, that sort of thing. The kitschier the better. If you're roadtripping with him and he spots a funky sign, he's pulling over.
three things your character likes to do in their free time.
Listen to music -- he's almost always got tunes on in the background but will sit down and really get absorbed in an album when he can.
Read -- mostly current events articles, sometimes a good nonfiction book.
Drive -- loves driving around the middle of nowhere to clear his head, even though it's not quite the same without the Jeep (rip).
three people your character loves.
Not technically a person, but the Walrider. Judge him if you want, but after a decade he's accepted that they're fucked up soulmates that were always meant to be <3. It's been a slowburn enemies to lovers journey, but over time he's adapted and stopped hating it for things that weren't really its fault. He's gone from denial to acceptance to tolerance to feeling genuine affection for the Swarm. Maybe it's too complicated to really define as love, but he can't think of a better word.
@mslangermann in some form in all verses always.
People with conviction. People who stand up for themselves and the things they believe in. People who are thoughtful and who care about something bigger than themselves.
two things your character regrets.
Not being a better son and brother before everything went to shit. His life choices and the prideful stubbornness with which he committed to them drove a wedge between himself and his parents, which trickled down into a strained relationship with his sisters. In hindsight, they were just worried about him and only wanted what was best for him -- but he was too absorbed with his career and trying to piece it back together to see that. He regrets arguing with them so much. He regrets not making the most of the time he had when he didn't know it was running out.
Somewhat verse specific, but he very deeply regrets what happened with @mslangermann's husband Blake after Temple Gate. Murkoff picked him out of the wreckage and brought him to another facility -- Miles found him while trying to dig up whatever he could about the cult. Blake was completely catatonic, and probing around in his mind revealed that there was nothing left of him mentally, either. Rather than leave him to suffer in Murkoff's hands, Miles elected to put him out of his misery. And still hasn't told Lynn. He doesn't regret doing it -- truly, there were no options that would have saved Blake -- but he regrets not being honest with her. He also blames himself a bit for not finding him sooner and possibly preventing tragedy.
three phobias your character has.
the dark
confined spaces
heights
tagged by : @demcnsinmymind ty!!! tagging: @cyberpawn, @slidethirtysix, @paramnesias
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luveline · 2 years
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hiya!!!! i loveee the way you write tasm peter! i was wondering if you might write something about reader and peter, either friends to lovers or where the relationship is still pretty new, and reader still gets so nervous around peter like stutters and gets extra clumsy when he gets close? and maybe peter finds it super adorable? idk idk you’re the creative genius not me 😉 whatever floats your boat!
thank you for ur request this is so cute! and thank u <333 i hope you like it <33
"You need help?" Peter asks.
He's so close it startles you, and down the glassware in your hands goes. You were trying to reach the top shelf, put the nice china back in its rightful place. The sound is almost as surprising as his proximity; you flinch, your two finest dinner plates splintering into a thousand white shards on the linoleum floor.
Peter steadies you with his hands on your shoulders, already babbling apologies. When he says, "God, I'm sorry, sweetheart," you pull out of his hold, forgetting the tiny pieces of glass in a plight to get away from him before you burst into a full body flush.
He says your name in confusion, prompting an uneasy giggle. "Sorry, Pete. I'm just flighty," you say.
It's half a lie. You are flighty, but it's his closeness that does it. Around Peter your nerves feel like they're on fire. His sudden appearance and sweet pet names don't help.
His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. "Yeah, that's okay. Watch your footing," he says, exasperated, as you step forward again. You pause and smile guiltily, socks an inch from a chunk of porcelain.
"Here," he says, putting his hands on your waist. You giggle wildly as he lifts you up and puts you down on the countertop as though you weigh nothing.
He smirks in bemusement at your reaction. "I'll put my shoes on. Where's your vacuum?"
As he vacuums you try to reign in your embarrassment. You can't believe he's in your apartment, can't believe he's vacuuming up your mess with a small smile on his face, how his brown hair is shining, glossy under your kitchen lights. How you'd washed and he'd dried after eating your cooking on your nice plates.
It doesn't feel real. You look at his face in the light, spotting the smattering of freckles over his nose or the beauty mark under his eye and catch yourself holding your breath, weary of taking the next one in case you wake up from some dizzy fever dream.
He finishes vacuuming and leans it up on the wall, sidling back to where you kick your legs, slotting himself in the space between your thighs and the perpendicular counter. His hand braces on the sink basin as he blows sleek strands of hair away from his eyes. You're too nervous to do it for him, though you want to desperately. He must see an inkling of it on your face, because he goes from charming to smug.
"Whatcha thinking bout, bug?"
"Nothing."
"Doesn't look like nothing."
Your hands are sweating. You press them palm down into your leggings. He slides his hand overtop yours as he ducks to your eye level. "What, are we keeping secrets now?" he asks.
"It's hardly a secret," you say quietly.
"Is that so?" he says teasingly, lips barely parted. The words come out thick like syrup and just as sticky.
"You're being cruel," you whisper, swallowing now as his lips line up with yours.
He laughs suddenly, tipping his head back. The change in plan is disappointing and relieving at once.
You stare unabashedly at the column of his throat and the sharp point of his jaw until he's done, though the smile he gives you when he levels out is just as nerve wracking.
He slides his hand over your knuckles and to your wrist, fingers circling. He pushes his index, middle and marriage finger into the soft dip of your wrist where your veins are closest and you're not quick enough to figure out what he's doing until after he's done it, flushing at his simpering.
"Your heart's going a mile a minute," he cooes, eyes softening at your self-conscious grimace. "Are you nervous?" He pulls away as he asks, the beginnings of worry flickering over his features.
"I'm always nervous around you. I don't expect it'll go away anytime soon," you placate, mouth dry, shamefaced, words skipping together in a jumble.
He leans in fast and presses his nose to yours, hands moving over either cheek to hold you in place. It's abrupt, his tone adoring as he laughs and says, "Sweetheart, I'm literally your boyfriend."
"Of two days!" you defend yourself.
He shakes his head, the tip of his nose rubbing against yours before pulling away just enough to look over your face.
"And hopefully a few more."
You cover his wrists with your fingers and breathe him in for a moment, and then your eyes widen.
"Don't be nervous," he says again.
His heart's going a mile a minute, too.
1K notes · View notes
deepdarkdelights · 3 years
Text
Solar Eclipse (Hoseok x Reader)
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Pairing: Hoseok x Reader
Word Count: 16.9k
Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Forced Relationships, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Devious Intentions, Talks about Mental Health, Mentions of Suicide, Dub Con, Forced Implants, Death, The Afterlife, Heights, Jumping from Heights
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 
Preview:  His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief.
This look on his face, although more genuine than anything else you had seen, was capable of sending your entire body into a panicked frenzy. Something in the back of your mind was telling you, no, begging you to run. The instincts that had been fostered in you from generations before were telling you this man was dangerous, and you were better off fleeing than sticking around to see what would happen. 
“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”
A/N: This was supposed to be 10k...how did we get here. This story was heavily inspired by Beautiful Accident and Wonderful Nightmare! Both amazing movies I recommend that never fail to get me in my feels. I hope you enjoy this wild ride! See you in the comments! 💜💜💜
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Your hands were hurting again.
The light from your computer screen was blaringly bright, causing you to momentarily cease your endless scrolling and remove your glasses from the bridge of your nose. You pressed your cool fingers against the warm flesh of your eyelids and tilted your head back against your seat, giving yourself a moment to relax. 
The once cacophonous tapping of another keyboard suddenly halted as your assistant leaned forward in her seat, sliding her laptop shut. 
“You okay, boss?” She asked, her brows pinched together in concern. “Is it a migraine again?”
You exhaled deeply through your nose as you flexed your fingers in an attempt to dispel the ache from them. You were far too young to already be experiencing so many aches and pains. 
“No, I’m just tired.” You admitted as you folded your glasses up and pushed them aside. 
“That’s because you work too much, honestly do you ever sleep? When was the last time you went home?” She chuckled in amusement.
“Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ll have you know I’m faithful to my sleep number, I come home to him every night.” 
“Him? You refer to your mattress as him? Somebody hasn’t gotten laid in a while.” She snorted. 
“I could have you fired for that, that’s sexual harassment you know.” You shot back, amused yet annoyed she had hit a little too close to home. 
“Please, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you fired me.” She laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
Before you could shoot back your response, an abrupt knock on the door stopped the both of you in your tracks. Without saying anything, she rose from her seat and began to cross the room. Knowing she would be able to handle it for you, you reclined deeper into your office chair and slipped your phone out of your desk drawer to sort through your endless amount of notifications. 
You didn’t look up as you heard the door click shut, two sets of footsteps approaching your mahogany desk. 
You could hear somebody clear their throat, their breaths coming out rapidly as if they were anxious. “Y-your coffee, miss.”
Without looking up you merely held out your hand, the warm cup slotting itself into your waiting fingers. You mumbled out a rough thanks as you continued to scroll through your phone, rolling your eyes at the amount of missed calls you had from your mother who, despite knowing your work schedule, persisted in calling you during your office hours. 
You could faintly hear your assistant walking the man to the door, whispering a soft, “Thank you, sweetie,” as the door clicked shut. 
“Really?!” She hissed, once she was sure the man was gone. “You didn’t even look at him!”
“Who? The coffee boy? I didn’t think it mattered.” You said with a shrug, taking a sip from your coffee.
“That wasn’t a coffee boy! That was your intern, jackass!”
“He’s just an intern, Jenny, he won’t be here for long. None of them last around here anyways.” 
Jenny sighed, flopping down into the seat across from you with a pout. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”
“Oh no, don’t you start one of your schemes again. I don’t have time for men and the last thing I need is for you to start playing cupid. And didn’t I tell you to stop hiring people just because they're attractive?”
“Sweetie, I don’t know if you’re aware, but you're not as young as you think you are. When are you going to settle down, huh? Find a husband, have some cute kids for me to dote on.” 
“Jesus, you’re starting to sound like my mother. I don’t have the time for marriage or for kids, not when I’m busy with this place.” You replied with a stiff tone, this was not the first time the two of you had this conversation. 
“I’m just saying you’re hot, rich, and a CEO, you could literally have any man you want.” She pointed out, the tips of her fingers pressing together in the shape of an arrow. 
“You literally just called me a Sugar Momma.” 
“I mean, they do have websites if you're interested…”
“Okay, you win, I’m leaving early. I can’t deal with your obnoxious ass anymore.” You said, standing up so quickly your chair shot back and turned on its wheels. 
“Jenny: 72, You: None.” Your assistant laughed, adding a point to her imaginary scoreboard.
“I was going to say call me if you need anything, but please don’t.” You chuckled, grabbing your blazer from the coat rack and sliding it around your shoulders before picking up your purse. 
“Don’t worry boss, I’ll hold down the fort.” She said, giving you a quick salute as she stood and began to gather her things. “Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.”
You pressed your lips together tightly in an attempt to hide the hint of a smile on your mouth as she exited your office. She was the only person you talked to like that, you were a rather antisocial boss. You tended to come off as cold and callous to your employees, but in reality you just really didn’t like talking to others when it wasn’t necessary. It had taken four years for you and Jenny to become as close as you did, in fact she was the only person you could truly call your friend. 
You had grown up in an isolated world, one filled with tutors and home schooling as you were groomed to take over one of the branches of your family's business. You had siblings, but you rarely ever saw them. They too were consumed by their work and their families, in fact you were the youngest of them and couldn’t remember a time where all of you lived together in one household. There were four of you in total, you only saw each other at holidays and your parents annual Christmas gala. You were by no means close.
You had grown comfortable being alone and frigid. It was safe and it was efficient. 
Your entire life had been one of isolation, the only amount of warmth bleeding into the bleak monotone schemes of your world was Jenny. And the amount you had let in was minimal. 
It was better being alone, you told yourself. 
You adjusted your purse on your shoulder as your office door swung shut behind you. The building was still fairly active, everyone was in a rush to complete their work before the sun completely dipped below the horizon. That was something you enjoyed about your building. The walls were littered with floor to ceiling windows allowing the ochre tones of sunlight to bleed into the bright white and concrete interior, soft dappled light dancing over hard edges. 
You paused for a moment by the windows, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the warmth of the sun caress your face, its fleeting light still permeable through your closed eyelids creating a golden halo in your vision. You gave yourself two breaths worth of silence and stillness before your eyes snapped open once more and you hastily made your way to the elevator that would send you to your floor of the parking garage. 
You waited patiently for the elevator, one of your legs extended in front of you as you rolled your foot from side to side on the precarious talon of your red bottom heels. Once you heard the doors sliding open and the familiar ding of the elevator you raised your chin slowly, your eyes half lidded in boredom as you met the expressions of your employees. There were two of them inside the metal contraption, their eyes wide in alarm at the sight of you. You tilted your head slightly to the side, and like you had cracked a whip they scuttled out of the elevator and hurried past you without a word. 
You huffed in annoyance to yourself as you headed inside, you had no idea what their problem was and you pondered if there was any reason to write them up for their bizarre behavior. Perhaps not. 
The elevator hummed as it steadily dropped floors, the soft music effectively worsening your mood. You hated elevator music. 
As soon as the doors slid open you jetted out of them, your heels tapping noisily in the quiet garage. You slid your bag from your shoulder and busied yourself by trying to find your keys. You hissed to yourself as you tripped and almost went flying, multitasking and heels did not go together. You stopped for a moment, opening your bag wider as you tried to find the little ring of keys buried in the depths of your purse. 
The second your fingers brushed the cool metal you released an annoyed breath, throwing your purse back over your shoulder as you flicked through your key ring, grasping the fob that went to your car.
Despite having what you had previously been looking for, you did not move. Instead, you looked around warily, pivoting on your heels as you scanned the area around you.
You could have sworn you heard footsteps.
You waited silently for a few more moments, listening for signs that another person was there with you. 
You heard no other breaths, nor the sounds of approaching or retreating footsteps.
You weren’t going to wait around any longer just to find out you were wrong. 
You swiftly made your way to your VIP parking spot, unlocked the doors, and threw yourself into the car while making sure to lock the doors as soon as you were seated. 
Your mother had begged you for months to get a bodyguard. You were a young woman with lots of money and the heir to a massive enterprise. You should not be walking around as if you were a normal person. It was only now that you were beginning to think that your mother was right. 
Not wanting to dwell on dark thoughts any longer, you pushed your key into the ignition, and peeled out of the parking garage a little faster than normal. 
As your anxiety slowly drained from your body, you began to feel the effects of lack of sleep. Jenny was not wrong, you were considering the fact that maybe you had a touch of insomnia. Either that or you were simply a workaholic. Honestly, it could be both. 
You switched the radio on, picking a classic rock station and dialing the volume up to the point you could feel your leather seats vibrating beneath you with each clash of the drums emanating from the speakers. 
But even that was just barely doing its job. Your eyes were still stinging like they had been moments before at your desk. You were undeniably as exhausted as you were a safety hazard. You clenched the steering wheel harder, the flesh of your skin pulling tightly over your knuckles as you attempted to stay awake. It wasn’t that far of a ride, you could make it home. 
But that thought didn’t stop your eyelids from drooping shut, it was nearly impossible to keep them open, they were so heavy you were struggling to reopen them every time you blinked. 
Your eyes stayed closed much longer now than they had before, and upon opening them again a scream of shock bubbled up your throat. 
A flash of black fur shot across your narrow vision as you frantically spun the steering wheel and slammed on your breaks. A band of horns beeped behind and beside you as you swerved dramatically into the next lane.
Your car had been mere inches from swerving right in front of an eighteen wheeler. 
Your hand fluttered frantically against your chest, your heart pounding back against it in shock. 
You had almost died. 
You gathered yourself up before stomping down on the accelerator and speeding away, dodging the massive vehicle you had almost hit in the opposite lane. The shock of adrenaline you were experiencing from that frightening event was more than enough to keep you awake now. You only had one goal in mind and that was to make it home in one piece. 
The minute you slid back into your regular parking spot you allowed yourself to slump back into the driver's seat, blinking wildly as you recalled the sight of the headlights and the cacophony of car horns from moments prior. You really need to get your shit together. 
~~~~~~~
By the time you made it up to your apartment the exhaustion had returned full force. You toed off your shoes tiredly, stumbling over them with an annoyed grunt as you threw your purse down to the floor. You could really do without your sudden lack of coordination. 
Far too tired to even care, you immediately began stripping your clothes off at the front door. You carelessly threw your blazer aside and shimmied off your skirt as you began to walk, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you headed for your bedroom. The housekeeper would deal with it in the morning anyways, it didn’t matter where they ended up. 
Your pajamas from the previous night were waiting for you at the foot of your bed, folded up into a neat little pile contrasting greatly from your current care for your clothing. You happily sighed as you pulled the creamy, cashmere sweater over your head and stepped into a pair of silk sleep shorts. This was what you had been waiting for all day. 
That, and the bottle of Cheval Blanc tucked away in your liquor cabinet. 
You ran your fingers through your hair tiredly as you made your way to the kitchen, the sound of your bare feet patting against the floor echoed down the long, empty hallway. 
You wasted no time, eagerly pulling open your cabinet and retrieving the expensive bottle of wine along with a crystal glass. You eased the cork free from the bottle, allowing it to roll over your granite counter as you poured the wine into your glass, the liquor bubbling as you filled it to the very top. You were a guilty self medicator, that was for damn sure. 
You hurried back into your living room, wine glass in one hand and a small tray of macarons in the other. There was one thing you were certain of, you were definitely going to drink your fatigue away and indulge in your favorite cookies until you passed out on your couch. You deserved it, after all you were a CEO, an overworked one at that. 
So, there you sat, taking languid sips from your glass and delicate bites from your cookies as you began to catch up on a show you hadn’t had the time to watch in weeks. It was incredibly relaxing, the soft hum of the TV, the feeling of your favorite blanket wrapped around your bare legs, and the soft tapping of rain against your windows. You were set on not moving for the rest of the night. That was of course, until you had to pee.
You groaned in frustration at the thought of having to move, but the call of nature was much stronger than your will to remain sedentary. You leaned forward, setting your food and drink on the coffee table before you violently kicked your legs, fighting your blanket as you attempted to untangle yourself from it. 
The second your toes touched the lush carpet beneath you, a shock of lightning suddenly splintered it’s way through the sky, shards of light refracting through your windows and lighting up the dim room. The soft rumble of thunder followed soon after. 
You froze at the sight, the light rain still tapped against your windows, a dull contrast to the sudden shock of light you had witnessed.
But, what was even more unexpected, was the sight of dark fur and glowing jade eyes staring back at you. There was a cat sitting on your balcony. That should have been impossible, there was no possible way that cat could have made its way there, your building was pet free. 
The sight of its slick coat of black fur tugged at your heart strings. He must be so cold, stuck out in the rain like that. In fact, he looked almost exactly like your childhood cat you had loved to dearly growing up. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to let him in, let him get dry and warm and fill his belly. 
With a new goal in mind you carefully made your way to your sliding glass door, not wanting to spook him too badly lest he jump. The drop would not be a survivable one. 
Despite your valiant efforts, the minute the door clicked and slid open he jumped up onto the fencing and rails that surrounded your balcony. 
“Hey, no, no, no, just stay right there, kitty.” You cooed gently, taking slow and careful steps in his direction. 
The cat fixed you with a penetrating gaze, his bright jade eyes trained on you, watching every step you made as his tail flicked from side to side behind him. 
“That’s a good boy, just stay right there.” You hummed, your hands held up in a show of no malintent as you carefully approached him. “Come on, I just want to help you.”
Just as you were within grabbing reach, your fingers mere inches from touching his silken fur, he lept away, settling on the ledge against the building. He was dangerously close to falling off, the distance from the ledge to the ground far enough to make your toes and fingers tingle. 
“Fuck.” You hissed. 
The cat remained there, his gaze still trained on you. Those bright eyes seemed to be beckoning for you to come and join him, to meet him up on the ledge. 
You quickly shook out your hands and feet as you stared back, your vision tunneling in on him. You could feel the cold air nipping at your bare flesh, goosebumps raising on the skin of your thighs. You could do it. 
You wiped your palms against the fabric of your shorts before grasping the metal railing and carefully lowering yourself over to the other side. You could feel the wind stronger now as it swirled around you, a flash of light overtaking the sky once more as a steady rumble of thunder bounced off of the surrounding buildings. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You mumbled to yourself, taking in a sharp breath through your nose as you attempted to calm yourself. Just don’t look down, for the love of all that is holy do not look down.
You steadily rose up on to your toes, shimming your way over as you held on tightly to the railing. The sliver of stone beneath your toes was slick from rainfall, as was the metal of the railing beneath your tense fingers. The closer you got to the cat, the further away it seemed to be, either that was the truth or the reality of how high up you were was messing with your head.
The thought you had from earlier suddenly came rushing back to you, the drop wouldn’t be survivable. What a sobering thought. 
You had come to a point now where you wouldn’t be able to hold onto the railing anymore, not if you needed to be able to reach the cat. So, with a shaky breath you released your grip from the railing one hand at a time and quickly latched onto the stone architecture surrounding the windows. The only thing keeping you from falling was the tiny inches of stone beneath your arched feet, and the architecture you were desperately clinging to. 
You slowly turned your head, your gaze meeting the cat’s once more. It’s eyes were almost mesmerizing, there was something about it that was telling you that you needed to get him, that you just needed to pick him up and stay with him. You had no choice but to retrieve him, you felt like you would die if you had to leave him all alone on this ledge. His eyes were drawing you in, causing you to spiral downwards into their hypnotic depths. You needed him. 
He was not moving anymore, he was settled down on his back legs, his tail flicking out dangerously over the edge of the building. You were certain that you could reach him if you tried. 
You slowly lowered yourself into a crouch, releasing your one hand from the side of the building as you reached out, the other hand still holding onto the stone of the window. You leaned forward as calmly as you could, your arm burning from the stretch as you slid over slightly to grab the cat. 
This time the cat did not move away, it remained still, waiting for your touch. 
Both of your arms were completely spread out, your fingers just barely holding onto the building as you finally made it within grabbing distance. And then, it all fell apart.
As soon as your fingers brushed his midnight fur, he jerked away from your touch causing your feet to slip out from underneath you, and your weak hold to completely detach from the wall. 
And then you were falling.
A violent scream ripped its way free from your throat as you went airborne, the last thing you could see was the penetrating emerald glare of the midnight black cat as you plummeted towards the ground. 
No one would know that you had never intended to end your life when you stepped out onto that ledge.
Unwillingly, you had. 
~~~~~~~
You never felt the impact of the ground, and when you opened your eyes you did not find your body mangled or feel any pain. In fact you were no longer even in the city. 
You were already standing, and you were all alone. You turned frantically, spinning as you tried to find out where you were. There was nothing all around you, just cloudy skies, stretching fields of tall grass, old dilapidated fences, and a dusty road of dirt and rocks beneath your feet.
And then of course, there was the bus stop sign beside you. 
You approached the sign in curiosity. The closer you got the more you noticed how strange everything was. Despite there being stones beneath your feet you didn’t feel pain, and the environment wasn’t cold or hot, it was just neutral. And, it was extremely silent. Not a gust of wind blew, no crickets hummed, and there wasn’t a single chirp from a songbird. There was nothing. 
You leaned your upper body forward, looking from side to side for any signs of life. Both ways you could barely see anything, the field seemed to disappear into thick clouds of fog that were impermeable to your sight. 
You decided in that moment you were better off looking for signs of life than you were waiting for them to come find you. But, to your surprise, the second your foot touched down onto the dirt road a bus came rumbling down the road and screeched to a stop in front of you. 
The doors slid open and light flooded the space around you. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the exposure, your hand creating a visor on your forehead. 
“You getting on or what?” A voice called from inside the bus. 
“Me?” You asked pointing to yourself.
“Of course you, does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?” The voice huffed in annoyance. “I’m already running late. I'd prefer if you didn’t hold us up any longer.”
“Running late?” You whispered to yourself. “And where will you be taking me?” 
There was silence for a moment and then suddenly a raucous laughter that made you jump. “Where am I taking you?! That’s a good one. Come on, let's go.”
You blinked slowly in irritation, the last thing you needed was to be laughed at and dismissed like a child when you had serious questions that you needed answered. 
“Come on newbie! Today!” He yelled, causing you to jump in fright before scurrying onto the bus. 
Upon entering you were met face to face with the bus driver. He had fair skin and pitch black hair with an amused, gummy smile on his face. Apparently, he thought you were hilarious. He said nothing to you this time, he just merely jerked his head in the direction behind him, signaling for you to find a seat. 
Once you turned to face the passengers of the bus you realized it was far longer than it appeared from the outside, in fact it looked like it stretched farther beyond what you could see with copious amounts of passengers. 
The passengers themselves were of all sizes, races, and ages. You could see mothers holding infants and elderly couples cuddled up to one another. Some people seemed to know one another, others looked sad and lonely like the little boy a few seats back. 
You were incredibly confused. 
Unsure as to where you should sit, you finally decided on sitting next to the little boy. 
The second you sat down, you felt his gaze train on you and his little body shift closer to you. 
“Hi,” He whispered, his fingers curling around the fabric of your cashmere sweater and tugging, “My name is Minho.”
You have him a soft smile in return with a gentle whisper of your name. 
“Where’s your mommy, Minho?” You asked, curious as to why this little boy was all alone. 
“I’m going to meet her now.” He replied, with an excited smile, his legs kicking out energetically before he suddenly calmed down. “I wish daddy came with me.”
“Why didn’t your daddy come with you?” You asked, your eyebrows pinching together in confusion. 
“He said I had to go alone, he can’t come with me for a while. He said I’ll be happy with mommy, that I’ll feel better with her.” He said sadly, his lower lip pouting as he rubbed at his teary eyes. 
“You’ll feel better?”
“Mhm, I was sick for a long time. Daddy said it was time for me to see Mommy, he told me it was okay to go to sleep.”
Oh, oh no. Everything was suddenly starting to make sense. You quickly looked over your shoulder and caught sight of the elderly couple you had seen earlier. 
“Hey! You two! What were you doing before you got here?!”
The older man looked up at you with a kind smile as he continued to rub his wife’s shoulder. “We were driving down to visit our son, he was never too good about coming up to see us. Some bad weather hit, we couldn’t see out of the windshield very well. Next thing you know we’re rolling over the guard rail and down the side of the hill!”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
“You! Where were you?!” You yelled at the woman seated across from you. 
“Hm? I went in for surgery, what’s it to you?” She asked with an annoyed grimace on her face. 
“What’s it to me?!” You echoed with a hysterical laugh. You were fucking dead that’s what it was! All of you were!
Your thoughts were racing a hundred miles a minute as you tried to gather yourself, your heart beating frantically as a sick feeling settled in your stomach. You needed to get off the bus, you needed to get far away from all of these people. 
Without thinking you lurched to your feet and gripped the cord above your window, yanking it harshly to signal the bus to stop. 
The bus halted immediately, sending you stumbling forward into the back of the driver’s seat. The bus driver met your panicked face through the reflection of the mirror, a curious light to his pitch black irises. 
“So, we’ve got a challenger? I knew you’d be a stubborn one.” He sighed, hitting the button that sent the doors swishing open. “The guy in charge is out there, you can voice your complaints to him.”
You were far too shocked to vocalize anything, your feet just blindly leading you to the doors. You stopped for a moment, looking over your shoulder to get one quick look at Minho. His little legs were still kicking out in front of him.
“Bye miss!” He called with a little wave and a smile, spurring you off the bus with a quick wave in his direction.
Upon stepping foot off of the bus, you were faced with a dimly lit four way intersection that looked like it had been abandoned for years. You quickly headed towards the center of the road as you caught sight of a tall man waiting for you. 
His face was relaxed, a neutral expression taking over his features. He was dressed fairly well for a man standing in the middle of nowhere. You took notice of his crisp three piece suit and the high shine of his shoes. He was obviously someone who was important, if the bus driver had indicated anything by his statements.  
You didn’t waste any time to hurl your questions at him. “I’m dead aren’t I?! Who are you?! What is this place?!”
“Relax.” He commanded, his voice immediately sending a wave of calmness crashing down over you. 
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before reopening them and waiting in silence for his response. 
“My name is Namjoon, this is the crossroads.” He said, gesturing to the four intersecting roads surrounding you. 
“That is Life,” He said, pointing to the road behind you, “That is Punishment,” the road to his right, “That is Reward,” the road behind him, “And that is Retrial.” The road to his left. 
“Right, that’s fantastic, how do I go back down that road.” You blurted out, pointing to the road behind you.
“Normally, you don’t. But luckily for you, or not so luckily, there was an error made.”
“An error?” You asked. 
“Yes, one of our reapers made a mistake. You aren’t scheduled for processing for quite some time, someone by the same name, sixty years of age, was scheduled for processing today.”
A reaper? What reaper? You hadn’t exactly seen the classic skeletal face cloaked all in black with a scythe in hand had you? Your face screwed up in irritation as you flicked backwards through your memories from earlier that day, trying to remember if you had seen anything that remotely resembled a reaper. 
And then it hit you. 
“That fucking cat!” You screeched, spinning around as you dramatically yelled into the void around you. 
Namjoon winced his posture slightly wilting at your realization. “Yes, that was one of our newer reapers, Taehyung.”
“What kind of operation are you running here? Do I look like I’m sixty years old to you?” You yelled, the panic quelling up in your chest. “You’re going to fix this aren’t you?!”
“Of course! I take my job very seriously!” He shot back. “The only issue is, I can’t send you back to your life just yet.”
“And why not?!”
“Time is a very sensitive and precious thing, as a woman of business I am sure you understand. The other woman still needs to pass and be processed, the events that lead to her demise must be tailored perfectly and set up with the correct timing. Only then can you return, once she is passed with the correct timing the two of you will switch. You can live again and she can be sent down the proper road.” 
“And how long will that take?”
“A few weeks.” He replied vaguely, his body tensed as he waited for your response.
“Weeks?! And what will I do during that time? Do you expect me to follow you around everywhere?”
“Thankfully, no. In the time being, I will have to put you somewhere else, some other place and time. Are you willing to do that?”
“Yes, I’m more than willing. As long as I get my old life back, I don’t care what it takes. Just make it happen.”
“You will, in due time. But listen to me very carefully, you have to follow every aspect of this other life perfectly. You cannot act out of character, you have to act exactly as everyone expects you to. You cannot have contact with anyone from your previous life as well. Understand? If you can’t do that, then you can’t go back.”
You swallowed harshly, a sense of anxiety creeping up inside of you. You had no choice but to accept, your life and had been wrongfully ended far too soon. If that meant doing whatever Namjoon asked of you, you would do it. 
You gave him a swift nod, your hand clenching up into fists.
“Perfect, I’ll have Taehyung escort you down that way.” Namjoon replied, pointing down at the road to his left, Retrial.
Upon hearing his name, Taehyung appeared. He was tall, with honey skin, midnight black curly hair, and bright green eyes. 
The fucking cat. 
Taehyung met you with a sheepish grin and an embarrassed wave, hesitantly coming to your side. He looked nothing like the reaper you had been anticipating. If anything he was a sad excuse for a reaper with the bashful attitude he was presenting you with. 
“Did you really have to use the appearance of my childhood pet to kill me?” You asked, your voice dripping with venom as you crossed your arms over your chest, your bare foot tapping in annoyance. You weren’t exactly the picture of intimidation you normally were.
“I’m sorry.” He replied softly, bowing his head forward in an apologetic manner still refusing to meet your burning gaze.
“I’ll be checking in with you every now and then, please, try to play along with this life.” Namjoon begged, a serious expression evident on his face. Not only did he appear serious, but you could tell he  was also stressed. The fuck up Taehyung had made was evidently a big one. 
“I’ll try my best.” You replied, you knew you had to, or else there was no going back. 
Namjoon gave Taehyung a quick nod, and with that gesture Taehyung grabbed hold of your hand and began to lead you down Retrial. From your perspective, each road was identical, this one too was dusty and littered with stones leading into a seemingly never ending fog. 
The reaper beside you was quiet, his gaze pinned ahead as he focused on his task, leading you down the path of Retrial. 
If only you had known how much of a trial this life truly would be. 
~~~~~~~
You were boiling hot. 
You could feel a mattress beneath your back, one that was far softer than you normally liked. Your body was swaddled with thick blankets and sheets that were sticking to your sweaty skin. You groaned in irritation at the feeling and attempted to bat away the blanket and turn onto your side. 
A sudden grunt behind you had your heart stuttering to a stop, your entire body frozen as you came to the realization that that was not a blanket you had just smacked, but somebody's arm wrapped around your waist. 
Slowly, you turned onto your side to see who was in your bed. The moment you flipped your body over you were met with deep brown eyes that were just barely open and the sight of a lazy smile as your body was suddenly dragged forward and pressed tightly against the strangers. 
A sharp scream bubbled up past your lips as you threw yourself backwards, smacking the man’s hand away from your body as you fumbled out of the bed. In your haste your foot was caught in the mess of blankets, sending you tumbling backwards off of the bed, spurring another cry from your mouth. 
“Baby?” A voice called, it was raspy and deep from just waking and wrought with concern. 
You quickly yanked the sheets off of your sprawled out form and ushered yourself to stand on shaky legs. The man in the bed was propped up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down off of his chest to settle and pool at his waist. He was absolutely shirtless, revealing a stretch of honey skin and a toned abdomen. 
Holy shit, what the fuck was going on?
“Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, this time he appeared to be more alert, all signs of sleepiness dissipating from his body. 
Worried from your lack of response, he rushed to stand up, the blankets falling away to reveal he was clad in boxers. 
What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? It had to be illegal to have thighs like that, right?
“Stay right there!” You yelled, throwing your hand up in fear as he ignored your command and quickly began to approach you. The closer he got the more steps you took backwards, tripping over stray clothes on the floor until the wall at your back stopped you from retreating any further. 
The man, clearly ignoring your pleas to be left alone, walked right up to you. He was so close that his bare chest was pressed up against you effectively sandwiching you between him and the wall as heat flooded your cheeks. His hands fluttered around you worriedly, checking you for any signs of injury before he rested his hand on your forehead checking for a temperature. 
“Are you sick, hunny? You’re acting...off?” He asked, petting your hair in anxiety as he tried to meet your gaze. 
“Don’t touch me.” You finally said, brushing his hands off of you once more as you attempted to slip away from him. 
“Why are you acting like this?” He asked, obviously confused before a sudden smile overtook his features. He had a sweet smile, one that made his entire face light up in joy. “It reminds me how you used to act around me all those years ago. Are you trying to get me going this early? We really shouldn’t, you know, I have to be at work soon.”
Holy fuck, what kind of person are you now? 
The man in front of you pulled you out of your stupor at the feeling of his hand on your jaw as he leaned down to your height. 
Realizing what his intentions were, you let out another scream of fright and shoved him away, darting for the bedroom door. As soon as your hand gripped the doorknob you ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind you. 
You leaned your head back against the wall as you rested, you hand over your heart, taking shallow breaths as you attempted to collect yourself. 
That didn’t exactly go as planned.
With your eyes closed you didn’t see the incoming form running up to you until it collided with your legs, winding around you tightly in excitement. 
“Mommy!” A little voice cried. 
Your eyes snapped open in surprise as you looked down at the little child wrapped around your legs. Despite his small and non threatening form, you couldn’t stop the scream of fright that escaped you as you unlatched him from your legs and raced to the first open door you saw, yanking it closed behind you and twisting the lock shut. 
You were in the bathroom. Finally, a place where you could gather yourself. You stood at the sink, resting your forearms on the counter and your head in your hands as you breathed in sharply through your nose. You needed to get your shit together and stop panicking. 
You couldn’t help but feel cheated, panicked, and pissed all at once. Not only had you died, made a deal with some crossroads entity, but now the life you had been plopped in for the time being was the complete opposite of your previous one and you had not a single clue as to how to navigate it. 
You let out a few more huffs before standing back up and raking your fingers through your hair. A sudden sparkle of light caught your attention, causing you to pull your left hand free from your hair. There was an engagement ring and a wedding band on your left ring finger. You hissed at the sight of it, your entire body shuddering. 
You were married and a mother. 
“Are you fucking serious, Namjoon?!” You whispered to yourself in the bathroom, knocking your head back against the wall three times in frustration. Jenny would be having a field day if she knew about this. 
Jenny. 
You wondered what her reaction was, when she heard that you had flung yourself from your balcony. You wondered if she blamed herself for sending you home early even though it wasn’t her fault. You wished you could tell her you hadn’t done that to yourself, that it wasn’t her fault. You just hoped that she was okay and that she wasn’t crying over you. 
You could get through this, you had no other choice. It was time to get your shit together. 
You straightened your spine and shook out your hands with a deep breath before you unlocked the door and swung it open. Standing outside the door was your “son.” He was practically the spitting image of your “husband” who had yet to leave the bedroom. He was staring up at you, with big brown eyes, as he raised his arms up and clenched his hands in a grabbing motion. 
You knew what that meant. You plastered on a forced smile as you bent down and picked up the small boy before settling him on your hip. He easily nestled his head into the crook of your neck, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in your warmth. 
At least he was cute, you could manage that.  
You curled your arm securely around his back as you walked into the kitchen, your bare feet padded dully against the cool tile of the floor. 
“Are you hungry?” You softly asked the little boy. You could feel him nod into your shoulder slowly, his fingers curling around the collar of your sleep shirt. 
You carefully unhooked him from your clothes and gently set him down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He whined in refusal, reaching out for you once more before becoming distracted by a coloring book that had been left at the table. 
Unsure as to what exactly you should make for the young boy, you searched the kitchen cabinets before settling on toast. Simple and easy. As the bread sat toasting, you decided to investigate the new environment you had been put in. 
You could tell you were still in the city, just a different section of it. You could see the towering skyscrapers through the windows of the apartment. This apartment was definitely not your own. For one, it was much smaller with a completely different layout. And, it looked to be in disorder with toys scattered everywhere in the living space. It certainly was not to your standards, but you could manage it for a few weeks as Namjoon had instructed. All you had to do was follow this life perfectly, and it couldn’t be that hard. Right?
You pulled yourself away from the windows, the drop off sending a familiar shiver down your spine, and rushed back into the kitchen to finish up the breakfast for the boy coloring away furiously at his book. 
Once you had the plate situated in front of him, you caught sight of a wallet on the opposite side of the table. Without hesitation you rounded the table and snatched it up, rifling through the items inside until you caught sight of what you were looking for. An ID. 
“Jung Hoseok.” You mumbled, the name tingling on your lips and echoing in your mind. So, this was your temporary husband. 
“What are you doing?” A voice asked from behind you causing you to jump in fright. 
You pivoted on your heels to face the man, your husband, Hoseok. Despite the fear his voice evoked in your body, he was presenting you with a blinding smile. One that sent chills throughout your body for reasons that were unknown to you. 
“Hoseok?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. 
“Hoseok?” He chuckled, “What did I do, am I in trouble? What happened to Hobi or hunny?” 
Well shit, you were already fucking things up weren’t you?
“You know if you need anything you can always ask me, baby. No need to go sneaking around.” He said, his smile still pinned to his cheeks as he struck you with a penetrating gaze.
He said nothing for a moment, he just stared at you with that smile in absolute silence. It was so quiet you could hear the blood pulsing through your ears and the soft ticking of the clock in the corner of the room as you tried to avoid his gaze. Despite the high position you once held in your previous life, you had never been very good with eye contact. He was really testing you today. 
He remained quiet as he grabbed the wallet from your hand and slipped it into his pants pocket before straightening his jacket out. 
“Jihoon, you’re going to be late for school. Go get ready.” Hoseok said, his voice and face still appearing cheerful as the little boy shuffled out of his chair and darted down the hallway to his bedroom. 
You didn’t know why, but you were struck with the feeling that something was very wrong here. 
You remained motionless as Hoseok raised his hand, cupping the side of your face rather gently, much softer than you originally expected. 
“You’ll be good for me while I’m gone, won’t you baby?” He whispered, his lips lightly brushing your cheekbone as his fingers gently swiped over the smooth skin of your cheek. 
You said nothing, you merely nodded in agreement so that he would finally release you and leave you alone to process what you had gotten yourself into. 
Without warning, he pressed his lips to your own in a hard kiss spurring a cry of surprise from you. You attempted to pull away from him only to find his hand at your back, keeping you pressed close to him as he sighed against your mouth, a shudder shaking through his body. His grip was becoming stronger, borderline bruising the more you squirmed against him as he tongue swiped over the flesh of your lower lip. 
“Ew! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled as he reentered the room, fully dressed for school with his little backpack slung over his small shoulders.
Hoseok pulled away from you with a laugh, allowing you to stumble away from your supposed husband, your hand cupping your mouth. You took back whatever you had thought about Jihoon before, he was your saving grace. 
“Sorry buddy, Daddy just loves Mommy so much!” Hoseok said, his voice full of glee as he gave his son a quick hug before standing up again. “I’ll see you after work.”
Hoseok headed to the door, stopping for a moment to look you over one last time. “I’ll be seeing you later as well.” He said with a wink before exiting the apartment.
Thank fuck he was gone. 
Jihoon quickly approached the now closed door, sliding his shoes on and reaching for the door knob. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked as you watched the young boy open the door.
“School?” He asked slowly, his little brows furrowed in confusion. 
“By yourself? No, give me a minute to get dressed. I'll walk you to the bus.”
“Mommy, you can’t!” He cried, causing you to come to a stop. 
“I can’t? And why not?” 
“Because, you never do.” He replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
What kind of mother was this person? She didn’t even walk her own kid to the bus to make sure he didn’t get kidnapped? Jihoon was so young, he couldn’t have been older than six by the looks of him. He was practically still a baby. 
“Well I am now, wait right there Jihoon.”
You were still dressed in the baggy T-shirt you had woken in, the fabric rumpled and hanging loosely over your shoulders revealed a fraction of your collarbone. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was Hoseok’s shirt. You hissed in annoyance and ripped the shirt from your body, filing it into a corner of the bedroom. 
The closet was filled to the brim with clothes, both yours and your “husband’s.” You swept the various suits and shirts aside until you stopped at your own clothes. You found it strange the amount of formal attire Hoseok possessed and your lack of it. Your side of the closet was filled with comfortable clothes, the only “formal” attire you owned was a wedding dress tucked all the way in the back of the closet and stored away in a plastic case. 
You sighed in frustration, settling on a pair of leggings and a large hoodie. One that was, presumably, your husbands as well. Did this woman have no desire to take pride in her appearance? Apparently not. 
“Come on, Jihoon!” You called with a clap of your hands as you made your way to the front door where he waited, his small hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack. 
Jihoon didn’t say anything in response, he merely held up his hand and slipped it into your own. He was a cute kid, a perfect reflection of Hoseok, but eerily enough you could see your own features reflected in him. 
You released a deep breath through your nose, pushing those thoughts to the back of your head. You needed to focus on getting him to school for now. 
The door clicked shut behind you as the two of you began making your way out of the building. The weather was still warm, not that much different from what it had been in your past life. It was nice, being able to take in the fresh air for a moment and be able to process what exactly you were going through. 
Jihoon had taken the initiative for the both of you, considering you had no idea where the bus picked him up for school everyday. His hand was still clutched in your own, his arm outstretched as he walked quickly in front of you. He was talking a million miles per minute, the most random things leaving his mouth. And, just when he was about to get to the point, he would find something new to distract himself. 
“Oh, Mommy! Look at that butterfly!” He was painfully cute. 
“Oh, it’s very...pretty.” You said, unsurely. At first glance, the creature was beautiful. It’s wings wide yet delicate, painted with bright colors like paint splatters on a fresh canvas. But, it had a large chunk missing from it’s right wing. The injured wing fluttered every now and then with the gentle breeze. The poor thing was trapped in the flower bed it was lying in, it would never be able to fly again. 
You were pulled from your reverie as Jihoon tugged on your arm sharply. He beckoned you to lower yourself down to his height. As soon as you had settled down on your haunches he threw himself against you in a tight hug, squeezing you twice for good measure. 
“Bye Mommy, I love you!” He yelled before pressing a kiss to your cheek and turning on his heels, darting towards the school bus. 
You stayed there for a moment, your hand frozen on the spot he had left a kiss. So, that was what it was like to have a family. To have someone love you. You had never had that before. 
You rose back up to your feet, taking a moment to gather yourself back up again. You could see there was a park nearby, and getting yourself over there seemed like a good enough idea. You didn’t want to go back to the apartment just yet, you still had no idea what you were supposed to do. You didn’t like the thought of just waiting at “home” for Jihoon, or worse, Hoseok to come back. 
Jihoon was easy, predictable. But Hoseok, he was uncharted territory. A raging sea you didn’t know how to navigate. 
Damn you and your incapability to foster stable relationships. 
It was only day one of this temporary life and you were completely out of your depth. A husband? A son? A stay at home mom? You had and were none of these things, but now you had every single one of them. Whether you wanted them or not. Namjoon gave you orders, and if you wanted to survive, you had no choice but to follow them. You had to play along.
You walked slowly, tiredly, through the park. The tips of your sneakers were dragging against the ground, kicking loose stones off to the side. A few weeks he had told you, just how long exactly was that? 
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the incoming footsteps approaching rapidly. It was the feeling of fingers gripping your shoulders and violently spinning you around that finally caught your attention, a cry of shock escaping you. 
“What are you doing?!” A voice cried, their hands shaking you to garner your attention. 
The sun that had blinded you finally lightened as it slipped behind a thick cover of clouds, disappearing out of sight. You could see now, and the man that was holding you so tightly was none other than Hoseok. 
“H-Hoseok?” You stuttered, your hands gripping his wrists as he ceased to lessen his hold on you. What was he doing here? He had left for work no longer than half an hour ago. 
“Did you hear me? I said, what are you doing?!”
“I’m going on a walk? I just dropped Jihoon off at the bus.” 
“You did what?!” He yelled, his face stricken with panic and a deep, hidden anger. His hold on you was only becoming stronger, near bruising as he shook you once more. 
“Hoseok! Stop it, you’re hurting me!” You yelled, taking a step back from him. 
That seemed to do the trick, his voice quieted and his hold became much lighter than before. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like you had just committed a crime. 
His eyes slipped closed as he took a deep, calming breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the motion. “Baby, you don’t leave the apartment. You know this, we’ve been over this.”
“What?” You asked, utterly confused. 
This seemed to shock Hoseok, his brows raising and his eyes widening. The both of you were standing there, a gap between the two of you as you stared at one another with equal states of confusion. You not knowing what he meant, and him wondering if you were experiencing some sort of memory loss. 
“Come on, I’m taking you home, you need rest.” He finally said with a gentle smile, he was firmly set on the idea that you must be sick from how strange you were acting. 
You didn’t trust him or that fake smile he was giving you. Something was going on here, and it was terribly wrong.
“No.” You said firmly, taking a step backward when he tried to grab hold of you again. 
His smile drifted away, it was like watching the moon slip over the sun into a solar eclipse. The Hoseok you were left with was one that had a cold, stricken expression that bled disbelief. 
“What did you say?” He asked you, slowly. 
“I said, no.” You spat back, your voice sharp and firm despite the tingles of fear and anxiety creeping through every muscle in your body. 
This look on his face, although more genuine than anything else you had seen, was capable of sending your entire body into a panicked frenzy. Something in the back of your mind was telling you, no, begging you to run. The instincts that had been fostered in you from generations before were telling you this man was dangerous, and you were better off fleeing than sticking around to see what would happen. 
“I dare you, say that to me one more time baby and you won’t like what happens next.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Hoseok.”
That did it. As soon as he took one step in your direction, you spun around and booked it like a track star. You paid no mind to where you were going, not caring who you had to shove aside to clear a path for you to get away. You were trusting your gut, and it was screaming at you to get as far away as possible. You could hear Hoseok behind you, yelling your name and telling you to come back, but you paid him no mind. You just knew that this was your one and only chance to get away from him before you lost it. 
Everything he had said and done had raised red flags in your mind, the way he talked to you and touched you, it was all wrong. It was possessive and dark, whether he intended it to be or not. 
What husband doesn’t allow their wife to leave their home? What father lets their six year old child walk themselves to school? What caring man demands you obey his every will? There was something wrong. 
You couldn’t hear Hoseok behind you anymore, the crowd had thickened substantially the further away you got from the park and the deeper into the city you were. People were staring at you strangely as you shoved through the crowds, grunting in annoyance as you squeezed yourself through them. 
The crosswalk was fairly empty, you could make it through and keep going, you had no time to stop and question how far away Hoseok was. So, you broke through the final band of people and began to sprint through the road, despite the sudden cries and warnings that were being shouted behind you. 
Fuck, there was a reason the crosswalk was empty, wasn’t there?
You turned your head to the side as you ran, only to come face to face with an oncoming car, coming in so fast you knew it wouldn’t be able to stop. No matter what you did, it was going to hit you. You threw your arms up in front of your face, blinding yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut and prepared yourself for the impact.
But it never came. 
“Day one and you’re already fucking things up, aren’t you?” 
The sounds of the city had fallen silent, there were no more car horns, no people talking, nothing. It was dead quiet. You slowly peeled your arms away from your face and opened your eyes.
Namjoon was there, still dressed in that three piece suit of his as he leaned up against the hood of the car that had almost hit you. He looked beyond pissed with you. You looked around, taking notice of your environment. There were people still looking at you, their faces frozen in shock and horror. There was a bird above you, it’s body frozen in midair with its wings spread wide open. And there was a little girl on the corner of the street, her popsicle stuck freefalling a foot above the ground. 
Time had been suspended.
“Namjoon! You don’t understand, this life you put me in, I can’t do it! I’m not a wife or a mother, I can’t do it! And my husband? There’s something wrong with him, I don’t know what but he isn’t right in the head.”
Namjoon rolled his head back, a sharp sigh leaving his lips before he righted himself and pressed his fingers to his temples. 
“You need to go back.” He simply said, his frustration evident.
“I just told you I can’t -”
“It’s either you go back to him and play house for a few fucking weeks, or I take you back to the crossroads and process you!” He snapped. 
You jumped in surprise at the sudden intensity of his voice. When you had first met Namjoon he was calm, collected, even a little embarrassed at the mess up that had occurred. Now, he was frustrated. 
“I told you before, you need to follow this life perfectly, you cannot let anyone know that anything is amiss. That means you need to be Jihoon’s mother and Hoseok’s wife. Whether you like it or not, that’s reality. So, you need to decide right now what you are going to do. Are you going to grin and bear it for a few measly weeks, or are we both leaving right now?”
You remained quiet for a moment. You already knew what your answer was going to be before you even opened your mouth. You needed to stop panicking and start thinking efficiently. What was a few weeks of unease and fear in comparison to years of your life you would gain in return. It was a good investment. 
“I’ll do it.” You finally said. 
“Good,” Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief as he popped off the hood of the car, “No more fuck ups, for my sake and yours.”
And then he was gone, disappeared into thin air. 
The world was moving around you again, and you were no longer standing on the crosswalk but instead in the middle of the sidewalk as the crowd of people that were previously waiting to cross the road dissipated and made their way to the other side.
And then, those same hands were on you again, but this time they pulled you into a warm chest, crushing you like a boa constrictor in a desperate hug. 
“You scared the shit out of me!” Hoseok cried, his hand settling on the back of your neck as he pulled your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. 
How ironic, you had scared him. 
~~~~~~~
Hoseok hadn’t even taken the risk of walking you back home, instead he flagged down a taxi and ushered the both of you into the back seat. The ride was spent in silence between the two of you. You sat there, the side of your head pressed against the window as you listened to the music from the radio and the feeling of Hoseok’s hand on your thigh keeping you immobile. 
You allowed him to grip your wrist when the cab arrived outside your apartment and when he dragged you back inside. It seemed so much darker now after you had been outside. You really didn’t want to be trapped in that small apartment with just you and him and no Jihoon to protect you. 
His hold didn’t lighten until he had dragged you into the bedroom you had woken up in the morning. It was then that he pressed his hand against your shoulders and shoved you backwards on the bed, quickly climbing on top of you as you began to flail your limbs wildly in surprise. 
“Calm down, hunny.” He cooed, a genuine, sadistic smile on his face now. All the other smiles before had been so fake now that you had seen this one. This one was beyond thrilled. 
You flinched as you felt cold metal encircle your wrist and snap shut. He had you handcuffed to the bed, there was no running away now that was for sure.
Your heart was thumping frantically in your chest, your limbs shaking as the adrenaline that had once faded was flooding through you again. Your instincts had been dead on accurate, you should have kept running when you had the chance.
“Baby, baby, baby,” He laughed, tilting his head to the side as his eyes shone with glee. “I haven’t seen you in so long, I thought you were gone.”
You were shaking beneath him as his eyes traced over every inch on your body, his fingers playing with the loose strands of your hair. 
“You’ve been acting so different today, almost like how you were when we first met all those years ago.” He hummed, his face pressing closer to yours as he lightly brushed his lips down the side of your cheek before stopping to press a kiss at the curve of your jaw. 
You flinched to the side in discomfort, spurring a delighted giggle from his lips. 
“As fun as it is to have you like this again, that doesn’t mean I can let your bad behavior go unpunished. You left without my permission and you said no to me, I can’t have that baby, I just can’t.” He sighed, the puff of air against your flesh spurring goosebumps to rise in response. 
“So, be a good little girl for me, and don’t move.” He instructed, pressing a lazy kiss to the bared column of your throat.
“You’re in timeout, a couple hours to yourself should help you think long and hard about what you did today.” He laughed, pulling himself off of you and retreating towards the bedroom door. 
“I’d think of a good way to apologize to me if I were you.”
And then he was gone. Once the door shut you could feel your heartbeat steadily falling and returning to normal. “Play house,” Namjoon had said, “Grin and bear it,” he told you. You weren’t so sure if those sentiments applied to your situation anymore. 
It was confirmed, you were married to a sadistic sociopath. 
Hoseok had left you chained to the bed for hours on end like the asshole that he was. You were rightfully scared of him, like you had previously thought, he was unpredictable. One moment he was kind and gentle and the next he was angry and after that he was filled with a corrosive glee.
How were you supposed to make it through the next few weeks like this? It was impossible. 
All you could do was lay there, stewing in anxiety as you were drowning in your never ending stream of thoughts about your fate at the hands of your so-called husband. 
By the time you heard the front door unlocking the sunlight had completely shifted in the room. The light was now entering at a different angle casting long, dark shadows over the room. It looked like the light was being chased away by the tendrils of darkness curling at its soft edges. 
You could hear a loud thud coming from the main room and the sound of little footsteps approaching the bedroom quickly. 
“Mommy!” A voice called before the door was shoved open. Jihoon. “Found you!” He giggled, kicking his shoes off before scrambling up the side of the bed and crawling over to you on all fours. 
Jihoon seemed undeterred by the sight of your wrist bound to the headboard behind you as he curled up against your side, his head resting on your shoulder as he wrapped his small arms around you. A chill traced its way up your spine, this wasn’t the first time he had seen his mother like this. No, this was common for him. 
Jihoon was already prattling endlessly about his day, much like he had on the way to the school bus that morning. His chatter suddenly came to a stop as he ran out of things to say, instead he let out a little hum and asked you: “Daddy put you in time out?”
“Yeah, Jihoon, Mommy’s in time out.” You replied, your jaw clenched and your eyes pressed shut. 
“I told you, you can’t leave. Daddy always finds you.” He said, nodding his head in agreement with himself as he began to play with your hair.
Your eyes snapped open, you head turning to the side to look at Jihoon. That definitely meant something, didn’t it? In fact, how had Hoseok found you at the park in the first place? Or on the sidewalk you had run to?
“Jihoon...how does Daddy find Mommy?” You asked him.
Jihoon continued to play with your hair, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration as he twisted and knotted your hair in a sloppy braid. “Your boo boo.”
“My boo boo?” 
Jihoon stopped his shaky braiding for a moment, meeting your eyes as he grabbed your free hand and led it to the back of your neck. That was when you felt it. 
Right there, at the nape of your neck, was a small bump beneath the flesh. You smoothed your finger over it a few more times in disbelief, making sure that what you were feeling was actually real. 
He had microchipped you, like a dog. 
A pit settled itself into your stomach as the reality of your situation finally hit you. The life you had been injected in was far more dark and twisted than you had first thought. This went beyond overprotectiveness and time outs, this was a clear show of obsession and possessiveness. In Hoseok’s eyes, you belonged to him. 
And, upon having that realization, your husband returned home from work. 
The bedroom door had been left wide open, giving you a clear view of Hoseok entering the apartment as he shimmied his jacket off of his shoulders and loosened his tie. Your arm curled around Jihoon tighter, pressing him even closer to your side like he was a life preserver, the only thing keeping you from being dragged down into the dark trenches of the sea. He felt safe to you. 
The minute Hoseok looked up and caught sight of the two of you, the bleak and tired look that adorned his features drifted away and was replaced by that same fake smile, the one that never reached his eyes but lit up his entire face. 
“There’s my two most favorite people in the world!” He called, pulling a laugh from Jihoon who raised his arms up in a gesture suggesting he wanted Hoseok to hold him. 
Traitor. 
Hoseok bounded into the room, lifting Jihoon up from underneath his arms and spinning him around before settling himself on the bed beside you with Jihoon on his chest, excited giggles shaking his entire body. 
It startled you how normal this would have looked from the outside, minus your hand being cuffed. To anyone else it could have looked like any other family spending time together after a long day. A stay at home mother with her busy husband and their young son. Oh, how far that was from the truth. 
“You hungry, buddy?” Hoseok asked, tickling his son's sides. “How about take out tonight?”
“Yeah!” Jihoon agreed enthusiastically. 
“What do you think, Mommy?” Hoseok asked you, pivoting his head to the side, his dark eyes fixing you to your spot. 
Play along. 
“That sounds good.” You nodded, attempting to do some damage control from your actions earlier that day. 
“Good answer baby,” Hoseok smiled, popping Jihoon off of him as he slid over to you, fishing the keys to the handcuffs out of his back pocket. His thumb gently stroked the reddened flesh of your bound wrist before freeing it. He held your wrist in his hand for a moment before pressing a long kiss to the irritated flesh. 
“Behave.” He whispered into your skin, looking up at you through half lidded eyes before he flipped his switch again and bounced off of the bed in glee. “C’mon Jihoon, you can pick where we order from!”
~~~~~~~
The air had been thick with tension for the rest of the night, unbeknownst to Jihoon who was too excited to be with both of his parents to realize that there was anything wrong. 
Jihoon had become a buffer between you and Hoseok, the little boy seating himself between the two of you on the couch with his food in hand while his legs kicked back and forth excitedly. A little hum of happiness left him with each bite of his food, completely oblivious to the dark look Hoseok was sending you over his head. 
You had somehow managed to equally piss him off and excite him all in one day. You were scared of what it would be like when Jihoon had to inevitably go to bed, he wouldn’t be there to protect you anymore. 
There were few things you had been scared of in your previous life, and they were normal things for a person of your stature. You had been scared of being mugged, being kidnapped for ransom, having someone break into your apartment, or becoming a disappointment to your family. 
Most of those things could have been remedied with a bodyguard. Never in your entire life did you ever think you would come to rely on a six year old boy, your “son,” to be your protection.  It was strange how much could change, all in the course of one night, one mistake. 
Once again, you had found yourself cradling Jihoon to your side, his body relaxing under your touch as he snuggled up against you. He gently guided your hand away from your lap, and onto his head, a sign that he wanted you to play with the short strands of hair. 
You pulled your hands away from your legs and allowed your son to lay his head down as you softly stroked his hair in a calming, soothing motion. The light of the television was flickering, casting a blue glow onto his young features. His eyes had fluttered shut, his long lashes casting smooth shadows against the skin beneath his eyes. His breath was coming out slower now beneath your touch, the rise and fall of his chest becoming slower and deeper than before. 
Jenny had been right about one thing, you would have had cute children. When you went back, a part of you was certain that you would miss Jihoon. Your little protector. 
You jolted at Hoseok’s unexpected touch, his arm sliding behind your shoulders as he moved closer to you on the couch. An annoyed whine sounded from Jihoon at the sudden motion causing him to press his face against your legs in an attempt to escape whatever was disrupting his sleep. 
Hoseok leaned closer, his warmth seeping into your side. He joined your hand on Jihoon’s head, lightly smoothing over his hair before speaking. “I think it’s time for bed, little man.”
“Noooo!” Jihoon whined, “I wanna stay with Mommy.” 
“Not tonight, buddy. You need to be a big boy and sleep in your own bed.”
“I don’t wanna!” He cried. 
Sensing an impending tantrum, Hoseok scooped Jihoon up into his arms and cradled him to his chest. He started rubbing his back in slow motions, bouncing lightly with each step that he took. Miraculously, you could see Jihoon’s eyes begin to droop shut, his fatigue returning in full blast. 
Your parents never did that for you. 
You watched as Hoseok retreated into Jihoon’s room, presumably to get him ready for bed.
Shit, your bodyguard was falling asleep. 
Your body moved before you could think, flinging itself from the couch and sprinting for the bedroom. You couldn’t think of what to do, you knew that as soon as Hoseok was done with Jihoon he was going to come after you and you didn’t know what to expect. So, you did what any other grown woman would do. 
You hid under the covers. 
Your heart was beating loudly in your chest, the sound echoing through your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut in fright. All you could do what lay there and wait for him, you were doing nothing but delaying the inevitable. 
When you heard his footsteps rounding the corner you tried to slow your breathing, forcing your chest to rise and fall slower to make it seem like you had fallen asleep. If he bought it, then maybe he would leave you alone. 
Unlikely. 
He did the exact opposite. You could hear him close the door behind him, shuffling around the room as he got ready for bed. Your breath hitched in your throat as the lights flickered off, and the mattress dipped beside you from his weight. 
It was dead silent in that pitch black room, the only sounds you could hear were the ringing in your ears, your breaths, and his. 
You flinched in surprise when he latched onto you, dragging you backwards into the warmth of his bare chest. 
You tried your best to remain calm, to breathe lightly, and to not move. But Hoseok was no idiot, and you were daft if you thought you could fool him. 
“I know you’re awake.” He whispered, his nose pressing against your hair as he took in a deep breath, sending a sharp chill down your spine. 
He remained quiet for a moment, his arms wrapping tighter around your body. The feeling was the same as if a boa constrictor was curling around you. Slowly increasing the pressure, tightening its grasp in an attempt to squeeze the life out of you. Slow, calculating, and intimate. 
The arm that had looped around your middle lightly drew backwards, allowing his hand to slide beneath your shirt and rest on the bare skin of your waist. 
“I think I know a way you can make it up to me.” He mumbled with his lips pressed against your throat. 
His palm smoothed over the skin of your lower abdomen, just above the hem of your underwear as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, lips and tongue tracing over the bared flesh. Like a little lamb you had found yourself caught in the jaws of the predator, one snap away from the clutches of death. 
You remained frozen from a blend of shock and fear, all sense of fight or flight leaving you and rendering you immobile. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to move, to pull away, to throw yourself off of the bed. But your muscles were tense, frozen in a state of pure anxiety and fear, you knew nothing more than the thought of keeping still like a rabbit in the face of danger. 
He moved to the side, dragging you onto your back so he could settle himself on top of you. He braced himself with his arms on either side of you, caging you in with no room to escape. He gave you no warning of what he was thinking of doing, he merely swooped down and pressed his lips to your own. 
A muffled squeak rattled in your chest, your heart suddenly thudding louder than before like an alarm sounding to wake you up. Your hands moved first, sliding onto his chest and barely applying any force, struggling to push him back. His skin was warm and smooth against your palms, an alluring honey shade that you would have been enamored by like you had been that morning, had you not been exposed to his true nature. 
“Hoseok.” You said, finally breaking free of his kiss. 
Your call of his name had the exact opposite effect of what you had hoped. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he pressed his hips against yours, effectively pinning you to the mattress beneath him. 
“Hoseok!” You tried again, trying to grab his attention. 
“That’s it baby, keep saying my name.” He sighed, expertly rolling his hips against yours. 
Oh. Oh no. 
The sudden wave of arousal that washed over you was unwelcomed and even more frightening than anything else. You weren’t even in control of yourself anymore, that was what his presence did to you. 
“Play along,” The words that Namjoon had told you were suddenly echoing in your mind. 
Your breath got caught in your throat as he pressed himself closer to you, you could feel the smooth roll of his hard length pressing against your core, light sparks of pleasure tingling throughout you. Shadows of fear still crept around in the back of your mind, the nape of your neck throbbing in a twisted reminder of the chip that lay beneath the skin. 
Hoseok was in his own world, hell bent on teasing you until he grew tired of it. He shifted his weight onto one arm allowing his hand to delicately trace up the length of your body. His fingers just barely brushed your thigh, trailing upwards to trace the hollows of your hips before settling on your waist and rising up over the barrel of your ribcage that was exposed so nicely for him from your arched spine. 
You were laying there, helpless for him, frozen from a state of arousal and fear that was blending perfectly into its own dark, tempting cocktail. You pressed your lips together firmly, smothering any whine that tried to force its way free from you when he pulled back, the motion of his hips stilling as he played with the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know if you wanted to yell at him to go away, or scold him for stopping. 
Either way, you didn’t have much say on the matter. 
He tilted his head from side to side, his dark eyes tracing over your form from head to toe. A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched the heavy rise and fall of your chest, your wrinkled shirt, and the way your thighs and hips jerked from the loss of his touch. You looked adorable to him, he couldn’t deny the powerful feeling it gave him to see you so helpless beneath him. He was sick, and he loved it. 
His fingers were still tracing the hem of your shirt, like he was contemplating removing it despite the both of you knowing it was inevitably going to come off. Hoseok was an impatient man, that much you could tell. He firmly gripped the bottom of your shirt and began to roll it up agonizingly slowly, that satisfied smirk still pinned to his handsome features. 
“Whaddya say, hunny? Should we give Jihoon a sibling?” He laughed, his tongue flicking out to swipe over his lower lip at the thought of getting to see you full with his child again. He would be a liar if he said the thought didn’t turn him on. 
All of the blood rushed to your face, your thighs tensing reflexively against him where he was settled between your legs. 
“Is that what you want?” He hummed, hands settling on your hips and roughly pulling you down the mattress against him. “You want me to fill you up again, sweetheart?” 
You didn’t get a chance to even consider answering his lewd question, a sudden shock of lighting and a deep roll of thunder caught the two of you off guard. The once pitch black room had been lit up by the blast of light, the windows shaking from the boom of thunder. 
And then, there was the sound of crying and little footsteps. 
Hoseok hung his head backwards in distress before rolling off of you with an annoyed whine echoing through the room. “God fucking dammit.”
“Mommy! Daddy!” Jihoon yelled before throwing the door open and scampering up over the foot of the bed, his little face wet with tears as he scrambled over the sheets and settled himself in between the two of you. 
If you had questioned it before, you weren’t questioning it now. Jihoon was your savior. 
“Jihoon, it’s just a little thunder, it’s nothing to be scared of.” Hoseok said, his voice a little sterner than normal, most likely from his case of blue balls. 
“It’s scary!” The little boy rebutted, “I wanna sleep with you!”
“Jihoon -”
“It’s okay you can sleep with Mommy and Daddy tonight.” You cut Hoseok off, opening your arms for Jihoon to snuggle into. 
The look on Hoseok’s face would have been humorous if you didn’t know you were going to have to pay for it eventually. 
Everything came with a price, eventually. 
~~~~~~~
Hours melted into days, and days slowly migrated into weeks. You had begun to lose track of how much time you had spent in this other life of yours. But you knew you couldn’t stand it for much longer. 
You could handle Jihoon, you liked Jihoon, you could stand even being there because of him. Hoseok...he was another story. He never hid his true intentions from you, that was for sure. But the more time you spent trapped inside that apartment the more you began to feel like you were going to lose yourself.
Sometimes you could forget what Hoseok really was, and other times he made sure to remind you. In this life, whoever this person was before you took over, they had never left the apartment since Jihoon was born. That was six years of their life spent trapped within these walls with no one to talk to except for two people who were only home for a few short hours a day. 
It was isolating. It wasn’t unlike the lonely life you had lived before in those regards. 
You were trapped, chipped, and alone. Any attempt you had made to leave by yourself, for any reason, had been swiftly thwarted by Hoseok. The knowledge of the tracker embedded in your neck reminded you that there was no point in running anyways, he would always find you. 
You tried to remind yourself that this would all be worth it in the end, that you could handle these weeks if it meant getting your old life back. But as each week passed, you weren’t so sure that was true any more. 
You were in a cyclical hell that you couldn’t manage. 
You had opened the door one day at the sound of someone outside it, it had been a new neighbor, a young man with full lips and an unusual laugh. Your heart had soared at the opportunity of being able to speak to someone other than a six year old or your possessive husband, but that had been quickly thwarted. 
Hoseok had pulled you back into the apartment and exited into the hallway, shutting the door behind him with a grim glare.
You never spoke to that neighbor again. 
Hoseok had become more needy as each week passed and you had taken to sleeping in Jihoon’s bed with him as often as you could, feeling protected by the boy you called your son. But your distance didn’t help in any manner, Hoseok was becoming more aggressive and more irritable. Not with your son, never with your son, but with you. 
He grabbed onto you more, touched you more, kissed you harder, and eventually forced you back into sleeping in your bedroom. 
You faked an illness for a few days to keep him at bay. That was how you got to this point. He was desperate. 
Hoseok was taking you on a work trip, just you, without your son. It was a city or two over, you would be staying at a hotel and having dinner with his coworkers there that same day. He was a desperate man calling for desperate measures to be alone with his wife. That meant that you had no more excuses and no Jihoon to protect you. 
Jihoon had cried when you said you had to go away with Hoseok, he didn’t want to go and stay with Hoseok’s mother, he wanted you two. And that part of your heart that had grown to accommodate him was slowly breaking with each tear that rolled down his cheeks. 
You would be lying if you said you didn’t love him. 
You knew that you weren’t the best mother, you didn’t know what a good mother was like. Yours was efficient at best. So you dug down deep for what maternal instincts you had, held him close, dried his tears, and kissed his chubby cheeks. 
And you told him you loved him. The first person you ever loved. 
So, that was how you found yourself here, at a table with a bunch of boring men and their partners talking about their work with Hoseok’s hand gripping your thigh, his finger rubbing circles into the skin beneath the length of your dress. 
You were incredibly bored of this ordeal. All of these men were business executives and their concepts of how to run a business were rudimentary at best. It took everything in you to keep your mouth closed to not correct them in front of their higher ups and embarrass them for the everyday mistakes they were making. 
“Play along.” Namjoon had said, so that was what you did. 
Although you may be a mother now, you would always be a business woman and a successful one at that. They didn’t deserve your expertise. 
Your eyes lazily drifted away from the table, zoning out as their voices became reduced to a low rumble. And that was when you saw it, a flash of black fur and glowing jade eyes on the ledge outside the window. 
Taehyung. It was time. 
Your heart leapt with joy, a smile carving into your once stony expression. You could go home now, you could finally wake up from this nightmare. A sharp squeeze to your thigh grounded you, a pit rolling in your stomach. You had to get away from Hoseok. 
He was staring at you, confused by the sudden appearance of your joyful grin. 
You leaned close to him, whispering lowly, “I have to use the ladies room.”
“I’ll take you.” He replied, going to scoot his chair away from the table. 
You gripped his forearm, bringing him to a halt. “No, this is important for you, I’ll only be a moment.”
He stared at you in silence, assessing you and trying to figure out what you were getting at before he spoke. “Behave.”
You nodded quickly before excusing yourself from the table and rushing down the hallway. You had seen a large balcony on your way to the restaurant on the top floor, it was only a little ways away. 
As soon as you stepped foot onto the balcony, you saw him. Taehyung was there, resting on the balcony as the sun slowly drifted away behind a cover of clouds, a gentle rain was beginning to tap the marble floor beneath you. 
You approached him quickly, your heart pumping in time with the gentle rumble of thunder above you. Taehyung came to a stand on the railing, the sharp drop off beside him glaring at you. 
“We have to do it this way, again?” You asked, your hands wrapping around the railing beside him as you peered over. You were even higher now than you had been the first time, sharp tingles were shooting through your hands and feet as you stared down at the streets below. 
Taehyung stared at you in silence, his eyes blinking slowly twice. You would take that as a yes. 
So, you carefully sat yourself up on the railing and turned, allowing your feet to dangle over the ledge. You watched in horror as your heels slipped off and went plummeting down to the ground. It took them a long time to meet the pavement, it would be a long fall for you.
“Fuck, are all of you reapers this dramatic?” You hissed at the cat. He looked amused at your predicament. 
“Okay, let’s do this thing.” You huffed, reaching your hand out to touch the reapers silky midnight fur. 
And that was when you heard the panicked call of your name. You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting Hoseok’s. His face was ashen, his hands held up as he attempted to approach you. Your eyes caught sight of his phone held up in one of his hands, a blinking dot on a grid staring back at you. He had accessed your tracker. 
“Baby, what are you doing?” He asked you, taking small, slow steps in your direction. “Come here, let’s talk, okay?”
“You can’t stop me,” You replied, “I won’t do this any longer.”
“You don’t know what you're saying, you're just stressed and scared. We can get through this.”
“I know what I’m doing, Hoseok. I’m done, my time is up and I need to go.”
“And what about me? What about Jihoon?” 
Jihoon. A chill spread through your body, your eyes suddenly stinging. You didn’t know that would be the last time you would hug him or say goodbye. He didn’t know that was the last day he would have a mother. 
“Jihoon will be fine.” You said firmly, Taehyung was creeping closer to you now at the same pace that Hoseok was. Your time was coming to a close, Hoseok was trying to compete with death. It was obvious who was going to win.
“I won’t let you do this.” He snapped back, frustration, desperation and fear taking over him as he flung his phone aside and began to run to you. 
“You don’t own me.” You spat back.
And then you grabbed Taehyung and clutched him to your chest before slipping off the edge of the balcony, Hoseok’s fingers just brushing your skin before you plummeted off the side of the building. 
Death was easier. 
~~~~~~~
First, there was darkness. 
And then there was the sound of monitors beeping around you.
Your eyes felt as heavy as lead, refusing to open on your command. And for a small, brief moment, you were afraid that when you opened your eyes he would be there. You were afraid that you had missed the window and you were trapped with him again.
But when you did manage to open your eyes, the person sleeping in the chair beside you was Jenny. 
You did it. 
Everyone was surprised by your survival and your recovery. The fall you had should have shattered your bones, mashed your brain, drained you of your blood. But you survived with minimal injuries. Some people called it a miracle, others thought you were a medical mystery. 
And Jenny though you were stupid. 
“What the fuck were you doing on that ledge? Were you that drunk or are you just that fucking stupid!” She yelled through her tears. 
“Both.” You answered, your face completely deadpan as she rained down a series of hits to your arms in retaliation. 
You laughed through it until she finally calmed down, a huffing mess in her chair beside you. “In all honesty, there was a cat on my balcony and I was trying to save it.”
“Oh my god, you are that fucking stupid aren’t you?” She said, shaking her head. “If you want a cat’s attention you lure it with food you dumbass! You are the dumbest smart person I know.” She sighed into her hands. 
The two of you remained quiet for a moment as she collected herself and you took in the room around you. There were no cards, no balloons, and no flowers. 
“So, I guess none of my family could clear some time in their busy schedules to come see me.” You said, quietly. 
Jenny raised her head, sympathy etched into the features of her face. “Do you want honesty, or do you want me to sugar coat it?”
You bit your lip in thought before making up your mind. “Honesty.”
Jenny took in a deep breath before scooting her plastic chair closer to your gurney. “Your family is...distancing themselves from you for the time being.”
“Distancing?” You echoed in confusion. 
“The media hasn’t taken too kindly to your...accident. Every tabloid is talking about the woman who has it all trying to throw it away. The public isn’t very happy with you at the moment.”
“The same wouldn’t be said if I had died.” You mumbled, because that was the truth. Nobody cared until it was far too late, their true intentions hiding beneath their masks of sorrow. It didn’t matter how much money you had, you had never been happy, and had your accident truly been an attempt well, maybe it was only a matter of time. 
“And what does my family think?”
“They aren’t too happy with you either. Your mother and father have put on a face for the public, wishing you a speedy recovery, but they left you a memo. They aren’t ready to speak with you yet, not until you do something to find your way back into their good graces. Your siblings, on the other hand, have said nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
You had forgotten how lonely this life was. Thoughts of Jihoon tugged at your heart strings, his little whispers of “I love you’s,” your after school snacks and cuddles, and the soft voice he used when he would wake you up in the morning with a gentle: “Mommy?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you!” Jenny said quickly. 
Your brow wrinkled in confusion before you felt it, the cool, wet, glide of a tear rolling down the side of your cheek. You were crying. 
“It’s not you, Jenny. I’m just thinking about someone I love.”
~~~~~~~
You had returned to work almost immediately upon being discharged from the hospital. Jenny called you stupid, you called it trying to return to your only family. You knew you shouldn’t care about their opinion, not when they so clearly showed their disappointment in you and their lack of care. But they were all you had, they were your family, your blood. They made you what you were.
Right?
So there you were, back to wearing those red bottom heels, those tailored suits, and those glasses you hadn’t touched in so long, hidden behind your desk in your office. 
You had kept your cool and your composure when you entered the office, doing your best to show you were unfazed by the shocked stares and the hushed whispers between your employees. You kept your composure only to throw your office door shut and slump against it with panicked pants for air. 
No matter how hard you tried, you knew you were never going to be the same anymore. Not after your fall, not after the crossroads, and not after Hoseok. You were broken in ways you couldn’t even comprehend. 
Even now, sitting at your desk, eyes trained on your computer, your finger swept over the skin at the nape of your neck, mindlessly feeling for the bump, the tracker that was once buried there. You were only met with seamless skin and irritation from the constant rubbing. You wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up rubbing the back of your neck raw. 
A soft knock to your door had you sighing in relief, you needed some respite from the thoughts that were racing a million miles a minute in your mind. You were mentally exhausted from everything you had gone through. You removed your glasses, pressing your cool fingers to your eyes. Your hands were hurting again. 
There was a loud crash as the door clicked shut, the sound of liquid spilling violently all over the floor of your office and the thick, strong odor of coffee. And then, there was the shocked gasp of your name.
A familiar chill traced down your spine at the voice, your heart kicking into overdrive. No, it couldn’t be. You rose from your chair causing it to spin away, your breathing quickening as you began to panic. 
It was Hoseok, standing there in your office in a puddle of coffee.
Jenny’s words from all those weeks ago came flooding back into your mind. “The poor thing was so nervous, you really should be nicer to him. He has such a sweet smile…”
You stepped backwards in fear, your world suddenly crashing down on you in one fatal swoop. 
He called your name again, a similar panic on his face as he crossed the room in distress. “Please! You, you have to help me! I don’t know what's going on but it feels like my head is being torn apart!”
Tears were rushing down your cheeks in endless rivers now. You had walked so far backwards that you were pinned against the tall windows behind you with nowhere left to go. 
“I have two lives, two sets of memories running parallel in my head and I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t!”
You closed your eyes, your body shaking and shutting down the closer he got. And then his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you in his grasp as he began to hyperventilate. 
“Where’s Jihoon?! Where did he go?! He cried, his body trembling in tune with your own as he was bombarded with memories he knew and ones he didn’t. He was too close now, his body pressed tightly to your own in that same suffocating manner as he panicked, his mind being torn apart for reasons unknown to him, holding onto you to ground himself.
You were beginning to understand now amidst the haze of panic. Namjoon had said he was putting you in a different place, in a different time. He had never said in a different life. You hadn’t become someone else, you had been moved six years forward in time. Those painful weeks you had lived through with the guise of them being temporary had all been for absolutely nothing. You were doomed to live out the life you had been trapped in. 
It was fate.
“Where is our son?!”
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yuyuntianyu · 3 years
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[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot
I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.
Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !
Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.
Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.
1. I used to like you a lot
At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.
2. I gave you a new title
Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.
3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems
On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:
“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **
*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem
These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.
4. You are all I have left
In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:
“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.
This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.
Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed
5. Are you still mad?
This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.
6. I did not think you would really leave me.
On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:
“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.
Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?
Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.
The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:
“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”
So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me \( ̄▽ ̄)/
Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.
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extravaguk · 3 years
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sweets&ink
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part of my opposites attract! series. 
ksj / knj / myg / jhs / pjm / kth 
pairing: tattooartist&tattoed!jungkook x baker!reader
summary: jungkook was everything you feared but exactly what you needed to heal your broken heart.
wordcount: 5k
genre: fluff - angst - smut (s2l!au)
rated: m (?
warnings: some cursing, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationships/trauma that might be triggering, a lil of making love at the end. it’s overall just suuper fluffy, trust me. jungkook is a s i m p. we love that for him! slow burrrnnnn.  
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Jungkook knows it was love at first sight, but doesn's know how to really explain it.
He knew from the moment he entered the small shop, pastel green walls welcoming him  replete of sugary treats, a sweet and heavenly scent engulfing him as soon as he stepped a foot inside.  With a new found sense of calmness and serenity within he hadn't experienced in a long time, he searched for deserts of his liking, mouth watering while assessing the many options of baked goods available and bright colored frostings stealing his attention.
"Hi. How may I help you?"
Then he looked up and found you. It wasn't easy to appreciate your whole appearence with the counter hiding the lower half of your body, but it was enough for Jungkook to think to himself that he had never seen a prettier girl in hiis entire life. And that's when he knew it. Any type of movement in his surroundings coming to a halt, his heart skipping a beat, his favourite song playing inside his head. And that particular sensation. The same one that had made him feel so at ease since he found your bakery. For a moment he thought his doe eyes might have actually turned into heart eyes until you raised your eyebrows, a concerned expression replacing your previous warm smile. 
Blinking his eyes and clearing his throat, coming down from cloud nine into the real world, he stuttered his order as best as he coud manage, heart pounding inside his chest and later feeling mortified for not being able to pronounce "gingernap cookies" correctly. 
At first he kind of hated Seokjin for blackmailing him into going to his favourite bakery to buy his favourite cookies (Jungkook really should've known better than accidentally spill ink all over Jin's new script), but when he comes back home with a goofy smile on his face and dreams of your face, he makes sure to text him he'll go get his cookies anytime he wants.
But Jungkook is a masochist apparently. 
Because a week after your first encounter he realizes that not being able to get his mind off a girl he's literally only seen once in his entire life is not exactly normal. Not for anyone, but especially not for him. Realizes that the way he embarrassed himself in front of you and probably looked like a bluberring mess (or a creepy weirdo who had never interacted with any woman before) is not reason enough to not keep wanting to try again. And the way you just giggled at him and simply shook your head as you wrapped the ginger cookies he had asked for in a pretty packaging has kept him aching for more. 
So he comes once a week now. Still as nervous as the first day, but content to see that your face seems to light up at the sight of him stepping through the door the same way his does. He likes to see you in your cute pastel dresses, and if he didn't know better he'd think you were just trying to keep up with the bakery's aesthetic. But the more he frequents your shop, the more he realizes you're exactly like the treats you bake. He likes how your vividly honeyed persona contrasts with his darker and reserved one. Likes how you're all colors of the rainbow and he's just a scale of greys.
They are small interactions. Just courtesy and cordial exchange of words everytime he visits. He doesn't even know your name and you don't even know his, but sometimes he asks how was your weekend and sometimes you ask how many people had he inked that week. Sometimes he tells you how pretty you look, and sometimes you blush in response. Sometimes you add an extra macaron in his order and sometimes he debates on whether or not he should write down his number on a napkin and slide in right on the countertop before he waves goodbye. 
And although Jungkook has never been one to shy away from women, he feels a certain way he can't exactly pinpoint. A way that makes his confidence falter and leaves him feeling like a little kid who's afraid to confess to the girl he likes. Because as cliché as it sounds, you're not like any other girls he's ever met. You don't feel like any other girl he's ever met. Not the older than him, tattoed and pierced type of girl he's accustomed to; not the type of girl that's addicted to trouble and believe him (maybe even hoped) to be something he's not. So it takes a while for him to summon up enough bravery and determination. It takes weeks of pining and overthinking, and a single push from Yoongi ('stop being a fucking pussy and just do it') to ask you to have coffee with him.
"I... I'm sorry. I can't."
And it only takes those words leaving your mouth to shatter his heart into pieces. 
 It's fine though, he told you and himself. He wasn't going to be one of those guys who believed the 'friendzone' was an actual thing and tried his best to not make you feel uncomfortable, really tried his best to erase the guilt across your face as you rejected him.  So he scratched the back of his head and mustered up a big smile before leaving the shop with a bag full of cupcakes and an unsettled stomach.
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Letting out a deep breath you didn't even know you were containing, you observe as the handsome stranger exits the shop. Running a hand through your hair before gripping the counter with your hands, you try to steady the heavy throbbing insde your chest. 
The boy in question had been unknowingly tormenting you and flooding your mind with thoughts of him for almost two months now. That day you first had spotted him eyeing the desserts in display in amazement and then you in the very same way. It was sudden and precipitated, but it had almost made your head spin, something you hadn't felt in a long time unexplainable tugging at your insides. 
You had kept your cool as best as you could, as best as you had taught yourself in the past. Wrapped those cookies he had asked and then waved goodbye, hoping under your breath he wouldn't come back but silently wishind he would. But then he did. He came back once. And then again. And again, and before you realized he had become a frequent costumer. Trying whatever treats you'd recommended him, creating small talk, sending friendly smiles here and then. 
You had learned to expect him at the very same time, the very same day of the week; had learned to manage the fluttering in your tummy and the reddish warmth spreading through your cheeks whenever the eye contact was prolongued. Everything was innocent, it was brief and, most importanly, it never went beyond, even if sometimes you hoped it did.
However, after all these years, there was still something you hadn't learned to control yet. And as he spoke, clearly nervous, hesitant and clearly out of his comfort zone, wondering out loud if he could ever treat you to a coffee sometime, your body shut down. The fondness and excitement you had been harboring over the last few weeks quickly replaced by that which made you want to recoil, made you want to back to your well to let its darkness and loneliness envelop you.
That horrible and ugly wave of crippling fear and axiety all mixed together; a little monster that you had successfully concealed, now displaying its ears in warning and the same smile that had been haunting you for years, now advising you, reminding you and most of all, threatening you, to go back to your own comfort zone. And so, powerless, there was nothing else you could really to but to comply, muttering an apology and a rejection that probably pained you more than it pained the boy in front of you.
You knew you did the right thing, but it definitely didn't feel like it. 
Especially a week later, as you expected his arrival- as always, ready with a tray full of fresh baked scones you had particularly made just for him, but were left severely disappointed when time passed and he was nowhere to be seen. Or two weeks later, after spending an extra hour making cake pops that you had specifically designed with him in mind (covered in dark chocolate and white sprinkles), only to realize it was closing time and that he never even showed up.
 To say you were bummed was an understatement. You knew you always looked forward to him coming in every week to grace your day with a smile and a polite talk, but you didn't come to terms with how much you would miss it until now. So three weeks later, you still bake with him in mind, trying not to lose hope but still chastising yourself for not being brave enough and accepting his offer. It was just a coffee date, for God's sake, not a marriage proposal! Trying to busy your mind with work and customers coming in and out, even if your eyes dart in anticipation everytime you hear the door swinging. 
When hours pass and the sun hides to make room for the moon and stars into the sky, you look at the clock and, with a defeated sigh, finish cleaning and tidying around the shop. But before you can gather your things, the door swings open and there stands the stranger you had been praying to see again. 
"Am I too late?" he asks, and you don't exactly know but can tell his words hold a double meaning. You smile, a genuine smile, because he looks bashful with a hand scratching the back of his head like he had done the last time you saw him, and because there's a warm sensation spreading through your chest, like your heart is smiling for you. 
"I was about to close, but I can make an exception." you accomplish to say and surprisingly don't sound as nervous as you feel. He mirrors your smile as he walks closer to the counter. "So, what would you like?" 
That takes him by surprise because he really had nothing in mind when he decided to come here and now he feels like an idiot. 
"Uh, um... I would like... maybe cupcakes?" he sounds like an idiot too. But you nod and smile at him and start gathering his cupcakes into a polka dot cardboard box.
"You missed the cake pops I made last week." you say, trying to keep your voice in check as he hands you his credit car. "I think you would've liked them."
"Ah, sorry... Work has been really hectic." and even if it's true, it's also true the fact that he chickened out and was frightened to face you again. He likes how even when you're alluding to his absence, there's not a malicious tone behind your words. He likes how you're still smiling at him even after he's been acting like a pussy for two weeks. But that's why he's here. "I also would like to apologize for... you know. I didn't-...If I made you feel uncomfortable, I'm really sorry."
With your eyebrows raised, your smile dissipates. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong, really. It's not- It's not that. I just...can't." you stumble through words, trying to explain how much you actually wanted to go to that coffee date, to get to know his name and more of himself, but unavailable to. You can feel it again. The same anguish that always seem to creep up on you and numbs you altogheter. But him, worriedly sensing your distress, waves his hands in front of him.
"No, no. It's fine, you don't have to explain anything! It's alright!" his smile seems to soothe you and you return his smile in gratitude. "Anyways, I'll... I'll get going. See you next week?"
You nod, anticipation already making its way into you. "See you next week." and then he takes the box filled with cupcakes and says goodbye. Before he can open the door though, a tingle of impulsivity and fearlesness makes you say:
"I'm _____, by the way."
He pauses, clearly taken aback.
"Jungkook."
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Jungkook hasn't stopped repeating your name in his head ever since you gave it to him, grinning like a fool and thinking about how good it sounds next to his. He hasn't stopped frequenting your bakery either and has lost count on how much money he's spent on muffins and whatever else you sell. He doesn't care though. All he cares about is how much likes seeing you even if it's only for fifteen minutes in your floral dresses, and as long as you keep looking like you're glad to see him every time, then he's fine. 
He's more than fine. He feels amazing. Sings tunes while he works on customers, feels his creativity flowing more than ever and he feels whole. It still baffles him how a minimun interaction with you once a week can make him feel on top of the world. 
He's got a bouquet of white and pink lillies next time he visits, so sappy and romantic he doesn't even recognize himself. He doesn't tell you he googled their meaning and his mind instantly associated them with you. Purity is exactly what he thinks of you and admiration is exactly how he feels about you. Hands it to you and the surprised look on your face and the spreading of pink all over your cheeks makes his heart burst. You thank him and he tells you he didn't know what your favourite flower is. You answer it's carnations. He writes it down somewhere in his mind, for next time. And then you're the one surprising him.
"Would you like to have coffee sometime?" 
There's uncertainty in your voice that doesn't go unnoticed by him, and for a moment he thinks he's dreaming. He's cool with what he's got right now with you, but you repeating his words back to him makes him feel euphoric, like he can't believe it. He knows he looks dumb, the way he's looking at you. 
Completely dumbfounded. He stutters like the first same he met you, but he says yes (omits the part where he tells you he could almost die). You exchange number in each other's phones with shaky hands, set the day and hour, and then wave each other goodbye. 
You instantly regret it as you watch him leave. Keep regretting it the following days. That voice in your head telling you 'it'll happen again', telling you fairytales didn't exist and this most likely wasn't one, even if it felt like it was, suffocating you like it had done many times before. Screwing with your head until you consider canceling. 
But you power through it, like you had taught yourself to do. This time it's harder though. Because this time there's a new romantic interest at hand, one that's making you feel things you buried a long time ago and made you swear to yourself you'd be smarter and stronger than any man could. 
It's Hoseok's encouraging words that help ease the panic. It was also Hoseok's words who encouraged you to ask Jungkook out. Said you deserved something good for once and that you couldn't close yourself to love your entire life. 
Thought it was time for you to write a new chapter after a rather sad one. 
So on Saturday, Jungkook insists on picking you up and it already feels like too much for you. Especially when he shows up with a bouquet of carnations in his hand and a smile that takes your breath away and definitely doesn't help to ease your nerves. 
Takes him by surprised how pretty you look.  maybe because it's the first time he's seen you out of your shop and even though you're still loyal to your clothing style, he still fumbles with his words like an idiot to try to express how beautiful you look. Seeing he's as much of a mess as you settles you a little bit. Then he takes you to a cute café that almost makes you laugh, because seeing him, inked arms and piercings and a closet that consisted mainly of black oversized t-shirts and pants in such a bright environment reminds you of the first time he entered your shop. 
You're surprised to see how well the conversation rolls, how easy it is to talk to him beyond the usual brief interactions you two have. You like how he makes you laugh and how he seems to love hearing it. You like how his attention is solely focused on you, even if his gaze on yours sometimes feels too intense and his overall character intimidates you. You like how soft spoken he is, how careful he is with words and the sound of his voice. Sounds like a lullaby without melody. 
And when the date is over, he drives you home, walks you to your door and respectfully wishes you a good night. You kiss him on the cheek spontaniously before hiding the embarrassment on your face and stepping inside your home. You miss the way he stays at your doorstep for a whole minute before getting in his car and driving himself home. You also miss how peacefully he sleeps that night, dreaming of cupcakes and you. You don't miss the heart emoji he sends you before going to bed, making yours quiver.
You're glad you didn't cancel, and now you're sure you don't regret it at all
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It goes on. The dates, getting to know each other more and more, Jungkook's visits to your shop and spending way too much money on sweets and carnations, the butterflies in your stomach everytime he's near and the birth of something inside of you that's starting to make you feel alive after feeling dead for so long. 
It's still new, still wholesome, moves in slow motion. You're glad Jungkook doesn't push, doesn't ask for anything, never demands more than a kiss on the cheek everytime he drops you off. He is nothing like he looks like, you realized that right away.
But with every brand new beginning that requires feelings like this, especially as unique and exceptional as the ones Jungkook is causing within you, comes the evil monster trying to scare you off, to make you back off and remind you that not everything that shines is gold. The voice inside your head that keeps bewitching you back into a dark room, reminder in your head everytime that one day Jungkook will want more. He'll want more and you might not be ready to give it to him. 
A voice that keeps resonating and has kept you unmoving for the past few years and now is making you feel more frightened than ever. 
You've been more quite than usual and Jungkook can tell something is not quite right. It's a friday night, and after having dinner that he insisted on paying, he decided this time to drive you away, to a secluded space somewhere where you both can appreciate the city lights on the hood of his car. He can tell, so he asks you, but you give a vague answer. He wants to ask again, but he's afraid of overstepping your boundaries. He wants to get to know you in every level, want's to scratch the surface until he can see everything. He wants to learn you inch by inch. Wants to love every part you bare to him, because he's sure he will. 
"My ex partner was abusive."
You finally say with a voice that's not entirely yours, and it doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel real to say out loud and letting the words sink in. It's taken all this time of excusing behaviors that were not excusable, trying to make light of a situation that wasn't and blaming yourself for things that you were not to blame for. Jungkook stays silent, but his attention immediately focused on you as soon as you spoke. Eyes slightly wide and mouth starting to open as if to speak himself. But you go on.
"Not physically." you swallow a lump in your throat. "Sometimes he would throw things at me, but they didn't always land. Or... one time he pushed me while we were arguing. Never raised his hand at me though. It was mostly psychological and emotional. He was extremely jealous and possesive. Didn't like me hanging with my friends, would never bring me to hang out with him and his friends. Though I' was cheating on him with anyone. The cashier at the supermarket, a randome dude on the street that simply looked at me. Anyone." tears prickle your eyes, but you'd learned to hold them back.
"He would always get mad at me. Would already wake up angry and take it out on me. Without reason. Would always blame me for everything. He would get mad, insult me, call me any terrible name you can imagine, tell me I wasn't worth shit. That I wasn’t worth living.Then he would punch the wall, or break whatever was in sight. Everytime, I told him I was terrified of him. Would cry in a corner and beg him to stop. Sometimes he would just laugh at me for it." you sniff, still looking straight at the city lights, and trying to keep a composed tone throughout. You had grown up a lot since then, and you knew Jungkook deserved to know you. He deserved to understand. 
"Then he would calm down, apologize while he cried and promised he loved me and would change. He never did. It took me a long time to finally walk away, but the demons still haunt me to this day. You," you choke, because comparing your ex to the guy currently sitting next to you was like day and night, like heaven and hell. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. I always felt like asking for respect was asking for too much. And then here you come, like a knight on shining armour ready to sweep me off my feet. It felt like a dream. Still does..."
Jungkook's hands are balled into tight fists, his whole body rigid as he listened to you. His own heart breaking, like he could feel himself inside you and experiencing your own heartbreak. His blood's boiling, jaw so tight and eyes blinking. Pushing down his anger, because this is about you not him, he lets his body relax before sliding your hand in yours. 
"I like you so much,_____, it literally kills me at night how much. Not as much as hearing all of this, though. From the moment I saw you, I was whipped. I wanted and still want to give everything I can to see that smile of yours. It's me the one who can't believe you're paying me any attention at all." you're still not looking at him, but he still sighs in relief when your lips quirk up. "Just having you here next to me and letting me take you out on dates is more than enough for me. Whatever you give me, whatever your terms are, I'm content with that. You're healing, and while you do, I'll be right here."
You look at him now, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down your face anymore.
"What if I never heal completely?" there's fear in your voice as your eyes meet his, but just the dark brown in his gaze help you feel secure, less worried about the future and more serene about the now.
"I'll still be here."
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It doesn't take long for you to call it love.  
Not when Jungkook keeps proving himself to be so different and so special. Not when his gestures never cease to make you feel so special, so worthy of recieving and sharing love. Because Jungkook makes you feel invincible, makes you feel one in a million. 
"What to you even see in me? We're like, polar opposites." you ask him one day. And it's true, you are. So different from each other, yet the same. He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, still holding your hand in your doorstep about to kiss your cheek goodnight. 
"I see everything." he simply says, eyes boring into yours in adoration. "I see the sun, and the moon, the stars, the entire galaxy when I'm with you." your heart clenches as he interlaces his fingers with yours. "Before I met you, I felt like I was blind. Like I was lost and was looking for an exit that I couldn't find. But then I saw you, in your little bakery, with your cute dresses and those eyes, and it was like my eyes opened for the first time. Everything made sense. Everything has been filled with so many colors ever sinc-" 
You shut him with your lips on top of his, emotions pulling at your heartstrings the same way you pull him down by the neck. He takes a few seconds to respond, but then this hands are dropping to your waist, their warmth immediately spreading through your skin against the chilly night.
"Would you like to come in?" you whisper, breath fanning over his lips. He nods, hurriedly, and he knows he looks like a damn idiot for the hundredth time, but he doesn't care. Because coming in doesn't only mean stepping in your home. Coming in means you're letting him in. Means you trust him, means you want him there, means you're allowing him inside your heart. 
Again, Jungkook doesn't expect nor demands much. Your presence is everything he needs. You kissing him is like winning the lottery to him. Like completing a marathon, like climbing the Everest, like getting his first tattoo. Kissing you is sweet, fills him with something strong that makes him feel on drugs, like nothing matters but you and him. Like nothing has ever mattered to neither of you. 
So it's you who leads him to your room, it's you who straddles his thighs and pushes his hair back as his hands carress your sides. It's nothing fiery. It's slow, tentative, and full of care. Of lingering touches, low sighs against each other's mouths. 
It's you who reaches inside his shirt, hand sneaking past the hem of the fabric and trembling cold fingers coming in contact with firm skin. It's also you who asks for more with a small roll of your hips. It's you who asks him to take his shirt off. It's him who complies. Still tells you you don't have to, you tell him you want to. 
It's you who asks him to touch you. He's scared like he's never been, because you're you, and you're so perfect and everything he's ever wanted and suddenly he's afraid of you're too good for him. Jungkook only wants to make you happy, never wants to see you cry, just wants to treat you the way you deserve. 
It's you who begs.
It's you who tells him you need him. Need him take care of you, need him to show you much you're worth, need him to help you write a new chapter, probably even a new book where you're both the main characters and nobody else has ever existed. You say it with tears in your eyes, and he's quick to kiss them away, tongue entangling with yours. He's quick to undress you as well, with hands that still ask for permission even after you've granted it already. Hands and lips that are also quick and eager to learn your body, to find every mole in your skin as he lays you back to look at you in admiration. He keeps kissing you. From head to toe, muttering praise, making sure every 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' that leave his lips stay fire engraved in your being forever. 
He first makes you cum with careful fingers and skilled tongue, thighs wrapped aro around his head, eyes still looking for yours as his hands keep your body still and yours crumple the sheets beneath. Tells you how good you taste, how long he's been dying to have you like this. Tells you this you his favourite sight as he kisses his way up. 
You beg him again, asking him to please, please, fill you up. He groans against your mouth and he tells you again, you don't have to. He says he's happy like this. Repeats he's in no rush and just wants to please you and make you feel good. That it's about you, and will always be about you. You beg him again, and again and again, enticing him with a trail of wet kisses down his neck, up to his eralobe. You whisper there, tell him you need him to fill you with his cock so bad. His whole body goes rigid as your legs wrap around him, legs pulling him closer to where you want him, his erection grazing your entrance and his teeth nibble your lower lip. 
Jungkook doesn't move for a while, eyes closed shut, jaw clenched and head buried in your neck. He doesn't move because his mind is somewhere else keeping him stagnant, pussy wrapping around him so good and wet and tight he's about to bust. Takes a while for him to move, but when he does he makes sure to grip your thighs around him, keeping you close, never wanting to let go as he tells you you were made just for him. Just for him. Tells you how good you feel. He tells you he loves you. Kisses your lips as you sob, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He tells you he loves you. Tells you he'll love you forever and will always keep you safe and happy. 
You're crying now, cheeks wet and he stops for a moment to look at you, concern written all over his face as his hands craddle yours, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head no. Pull him back into another kiss, urging him to go on. You tell him you love this, love him so much. That it's a good thing. That they are happy tears. That you've never been happier. And then his hips start moving again, your words egging him own, soft whimpers and sobs leaving each other's throats until you cum at the same time. 
He then removes himself from you, rolling onto your side but he's quick to pull your body close, arms wrapping around you and lips kissing away the wet stains on your cheeks. 
It doesn't take long for you to know Jungkook would be the healthy forever and after you had always dreamed of.
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noritoshiikamo · 3 years
Text
worth my time
pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: porn (is fingering enough to call it porn??) without plot ish??? tags//warning: established relationship // slight smut???, fingering, emotional drained reader, reader dated character but then forced into arranged marriage and doubt the whole rs note: unedited, lowercase intended, just me and my nori brainrot dont mind the plotholes and everythingn, its not accurate according to the manga/anime like i just wanna feed myself and i haven't write in ages pls sent some ideas so i can get my lazy brain going, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it  directory: read the first part | second part | third part | bonus
“how long have you known?”
noritoshi shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. the way he took time to answer her question drove her mad. “noritoshi, how long?” her voice strained. “would it make any difference if i’d known today or 10 years ago?”
her eyes shot wide opened, “10 fucking years?”
a small smile appeared on his lips as he lowered the cup, “hypothetically.” she grabbed one of the pillows from the pile on the bed and threw it to his face, embedded with what little left of her jujutsu power. they have been going on for hours and she was clearly too stubborn to let it go. it was clearly weak; he dodged it with a flick of his wrist switching the pillow’s trajectory. “you’re a fucking asshole,” she gritted through her teeth, falling on bed as wave of anger and sadness crashed through. “you think i wanted an arranged marriage? you think i like having every aspect of my life set since i was a child and scrutinized? i’m a bastard sitting on a throne. unlike you gojou clan, i had it much worst.”
she pulled her hair, fighting the tears that was already streaming down, “it’s not a competition. we are in the same school, i sat next to you for years and you’re telling me you have no idea that i’m your future wife, bullshit!” her eyes flickered as she threw the next close thing within her power’s vicinity; a vase. something hit the vase midway, breaking it into ashes and she watched as a drop of blood stained the floor. he broke it with his power. “you can throw every single thing in this room, y/n, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we are already married.” it was that one sentence that completely broke her. falling on her knees, she let a cry out, clutching on her chest as she cried to her heart’s content. this can’t be happening to me, no, no, no, her mind echoed as she forced herself to surrender to the fact that they are married. it’s not something easy to undo. it pained him to see her like this, but his wife needs to understand that he could do nothing about it. she cried for what seems to be like hours, the sleeves of her yukata wet from the tears and sweat. she fell on the floor to her knees, resting her body against the bed before finally looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. he could see defeat in her tired eyes. “we dated each other,” she sniffled, “was that real or was it just you scouting for your future wife?” her words sound like venom to him “i know you won’t believe me, but it was real. i would still marry you even if the marriage isn’t arranged.” noritoshi stood up, his barefoot echoed on the floor as he walked to his weakened wife. her body was hot, he suspected the skipping (refusing to eat) meals, raging and throwing tantrums after another had put her body in so much stress. he reached for the sash, trying to undo her yukata and she freaked out. grabbing his wrist, she shook her head, “what are you doing?” she asked shakily. “would you listen to me for once? you need a cold shower, you’re burning up, it would help.” she stopped fighting. his tone was a mixed of annoyance and tired. dating him made her realized that noritoshi has a high level of patience; but not right now. letting go of his wrist, she slipped the yukata off her shoulder herself, whined about how she disliked cold shower below her breath. he wore a small smile as he hoisted the naked girl up. it’s a small victory on noritoshi the husband, he’ll savor it for now. 
the girl kneeled on the floor of the shower as noritoshi slowly ran the shower head slowly up her body. her arms wrapped tightly against her chest; she cursed every time the cold water reached new part of her body. ignoring the fact that his yukata was getting wetter, he kneeled behind her and let her rest her back against his chest. with the shower gel, his body froze every time she whined at his touch. something about the way she whined under his touches made him weak. he wants to kiss her stupid face so badly. “it’s cold,” she mumbled, her eyes closed as he ran his palm against her stomach. he pressed a kiss on the side of her face, “better?” he asked as his hand travelled lower. her eyes widened. he continued his kisses, down her jawline and her neck, bruising every spot as his fingers traced a lazy circle on her clit. she moaned out a throaty yes. he continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, promises of how he would take care of her, how he’s going to be a perfect husband, how she would be a perfect wife, how they’ll live happily together. she nodded her head in delirium, the pleasure of his fingers had her grinding her back on his crotch and emptying her thoughts. she could barely think straight. “tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, slipping a finger inside, “i can take care of you, baby,” her eyes rolled back, his words were not helping, it was just pure gasoline thrown into a burning fire. “nori, i want to cum,” she muttered, clutching desperate on the now two fingers. she felt his warm breath on the crook where her shoulder meet her neck, his fangs brushing threateningly against the sensitive skin. “open your mouth,” he urged, she whined at the lost feeling of his lips on her neck. she felt something dripping between her lips, his thumb brushing the lower lip. it painted her lips red. it tasted metallic, almost like a blood. it was his. he watched in satisfaction as his blood marking appeared on her right eye. he can control her blood, heightened her senses, throwing her body’s sensitivity off the wall, driving her off the edge with every spot of her body he touches; it sends pleasure twice as much. it wasn’t long until her velvety wall spasmed around his fingers. her body jolted forward; her shaky hands pressed against the wet tile preventing her from falling face first as orgasm washes out. she could barely make any noises, her throat was so dry, she felt like it might bleed.   she won’t deny that the orgasm eased her pain, but she would deny if he dared brought it up; he would not get the pleasure of knowing she enjoyed that.
his palm brushed against her thigh, causing her to look up. he raised his eyebrows in question which she brushed it off with a nod. she grabbed his hand and steadied herself up.
“i’m okay,” she voiced out.
he undressed, continued their shower from square one. they’ve done this before; sharing shower after mission washing blood off each other but this time, it feels different. she sighed at the pleasure, letting her hands rest against his toned chest. we are married, the sentence echoed in her mind as he massaged the shampoo on her head. never ever she thought that this is how she’ll be married. it’s not like she dreamed of a huge wedding. he did throw a small gathering, respecting her boundaries and her anxiety but everything just moved so fast. her parents are dead, her only remaining family is satoru, a distant cousin who finds it a no issue for her to marry her boyfriend. it is not an issue for her to marry noritoshi kamo, she loves him so much, but not like this.   she wished she had more choices in this.   he hummed a song, a habit of his that he caught from his mother, a lullaby his mother always sings. she wanted to hate him so much, for befriending her, making her fall in love with him and then forced her into a marriage. but when she opened her eyes and stared up into his, to see such loving look in his eyes, it weakened her. her heart is a wreck. “why do you do this to me?” she whimpered, slamming her fist into his chest. he refused to answer.
she was tired of his silence.
he turned the shower off, opening the glass door letting waft of cold air out. he left to fetch her towel and she stalked toward the nearby mirror. “how long until the thing wears off?” she asked when she caught a glimpse of herself. she reached to touch the blood marking on her eyes. he wrapped the towel around her body, hugging her from behind and through the foggy mirror, he brushed his thumb on her cheek, whispered something she couldn’t catch as the mark subsided.
“this doesn’t change the fact that i’m mad at you.”
he laughed it off, “i didn’t say it does. you always feel better post orgasm, you know how i know it?” he kissed her temple, eyes burned into hers, “because i dated you.”
her teeth gritted in annoyance.
“you think if i dated you to scout my future wife, i wouldn’t waste my time learning how your body responds to me, the way you yearn for me,” a kiss fell on her neck, “learn how well you control your shikigami and goes through lengths to teach you how to use my bow,” another kiss went up her jaw, “teach you my own blood techniques because god, why jujutsu needs to be such an exclusive thing,” arms went around her waist, “worried sick every single time utahime send you off for a mission, taking care of your wounds, being there to catch your reckless ass,” his breath lingered on her ears, “completely falling in love with you wholeheartedly for 3 years. i’d abandoned my father’s choice. you are arranged to be my wife, on my own accord. i choose you. you weren’t my father’s choice, but even in million years, even if sukuna’s vessel reincarnated again and again, even if the world split open and sent you miles away, even if i’m not the head of kamo clan,” his hand grabbed her chin, hard and forced her to meet his eyes, his words send shivers down her spine, “i would still choose you.”
she’s completely putty in his hand. she let out a soft whine as his body abandoned her, his warmth gone and came the cold biting her bare skin. her eyes followed the back of the man as he stalked to the wardrobe leaving the girl alone to ponder on his words.
“now, wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time, my wife?”
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glowingbadger · 3 years
Note
The Sylvain and Dimitri arranged marriage stuff made me think of a claude version of it. Maybe an AU where Claude never came to fodlan and reader has to marry the prince/king of Almyra to improve countries relationships. Anyway seriously love your stuff thank you so much for the content!!
Oh hoo Anon, this is a wonderful take on the concept. Let's see what I can whip up for us~
((side note I feel like we never learn whether Almyra speaks a different language from Fodlan?? But being multi-lingual is sexy so idgaf))
((And also I used Bengali for Almyran because I have Bengali family and the language is so beautiful even though the english alphabet phonetic spellings are weird af))
Claude x Reader - Arranged Marriage
NSFW 18+ (like only towards the end tho idk)
Overall, you do what you can to stay out of the way. You'd been sent to Almyra as a symbol- a token, more than anything else. Now that you were in King Khalid's possession, very few throughout the castle paid you any particular mind. You were provided for, of course. Anything you cared to ask for was given. But you didn't speak a word of the Almyran language, and those who bothered to use what they knew of Fodlan's to communicate with you seemed to view you as a pet to be kept safe and healthy, and little else.
By week's end, there was to be a lavish banquet in honor of your union with the King- though of course, your input on the proceedings is entirely unwanted. In some ways, Almyra is quite similar to Fodlan. Court life is much the same. As you wander through the royal gardens, wondering at a range of colorful and exotic flowers you'd never heard of, let alone seen, a voice speaks smoothly behind you.
"Did you know you can actually eat the petals of this particular flower? They're very sweet."
You whirl around and nearly bump into King Khalid. You're about to stammer out an apology, but he reaches out and plucks a single white petal and holds it before your lips.
"Go on, I think you'll like it."
Whatever possesses you to eat a flower petal from this man's hand is something you'd rather leave unexamined for the time being- but he is right about the flavor. It's sweet, but not overly so, and quite pleasant.
"Hm! Yeah, it's nice," you say, then glance up at him as another thought occurs to you that you'd considered once or twice before, "You speak the language of Fodlan very well, my Lord."
"I'm flattered," he says with a disarmingly handsome smile, "and please, just Khalid. I don't think I could bear to have my own wife stand on such formality with me."
He says it so naturally, as if you'd been planning this union for years. Though, once again, he's right. This is only perhaps the dozenth time you've exchanged words, but you are wed, and you ought to get used to addressing him as your husband.
"Khalid..." you say tentatively, "Did- did you need something from me? I hope I wasn't too much trouble to find."
"Not when you find such pleasant places to hide," he replies, still wearing that easy smile, "but to be honest, I was actually hoping you'd accompany me for the day. I can finally afford to take a bit of time away from the castle, and I think you and I both would appreciate some space to breathe. What do you say?"
Correct once again. You nod, and take the arm he offers you. As he leads you out from the gardens, he points out a few more plants native to your new homeland. They're incredibly varied, each more strange and vibrant than the last. All the while, he's somehow made you feel as though you're chatting with an old friend. You leave the gardens and wander towards the area you vaguely recall to be designated for horse stables and wyvern stalls.
From there, a few things happen in sequence. Khalid asks if you're afraid of flying. He asks if you trust him to hold on to you. He helps you up onto the saddle that seems impossibly high up on its own right, and then, you're propelled into the air with a force your body has never felt before. You tense and shrink back against his chest, clinging to whatever part of the saddle you can find purchase on for dear life. Up here, it's difficult to pick up, but you feel your husband laugh behind you, then his strong arm wrap around your waist.
"Relax, I won't let anything happen to you," he says against your ear, his voice sure and steady, "I've got you."
And it takes a few miles of flying and a lot of Khalid distracting you by pointing out different buildings and shops along the streets below, but eventually, you do manage to relax- at least a little.
The castle town is positively buzzing with activity. Even from your distance in the sky above, you can see clusters of people moving around each other like fish up stream, and even hear the faint echoes of a merchant advertising goods.
"It doesn't seem at all like the Almyra we're taught about in Fodlan."
"Oh, it is," Khalid assures you with a bemused chuckle, "But it's also much more. I imagine it's the same for your people. There's a lot we can learn from one another, I think."
By the time the sun is high in the sky, you've passed the most densely settled part of town and are gliding over farmland and the occasional pocket of forest and rivers that split and cross through the earth like veins. Though, the warmer climate of Almyra will still take some getting used to, and it seems your husband considers this.
"Let's land for a bit and find some shade,"
You nod, and he directs his wyvern to begin a slow descent.
The King had thought of everything for this little day-trip, it seemed. Having evidently packed everything you'd need in the saddlebags on his steed, you now recline beside him on a plush blanket in a clearing amidst the trees. A small brook bubbles down from stone to stone in small waterfalls beside you, and the air feels positively alive with birdsong and rustling leaves, all foreign to you and all part of your new home. And so is he, you think as you glance over at the handsome figure of your husband beside you.
You'd been sitting in a comfortable quiet, munching on a couple of very dense pastries which Khalid had told you incorporated an extract of the flower you'd sampled earlier. He gives a satisfied sigh as he finishes his first and lies back on the blanket, taking in and savoring a deep breath. As you finish the last bites of your own treat, you reflect on the day thus far. You'd learned much about the locals and their daily lives by observation and Khalid's description in such a short time, and he'd even taught you a hand full of basic words and phrases in Almyran.
"Uhm, Khalid?"
He opens one eye and gives you a sideways glance.
"It was... dhonnobad, right? Thank you?"
His smile his open and warm, his eyes practically shimmering in the reflected sunlight from the nearby brook.
"Well, we'll have to work on your pronunciation, but I'm impressed you remembered," he beckons you down onto the blanket beside him, and you follow, lying on your side as he turns towards you. You're closer than you'd anticipated, even given the limited realestate of the blanket, and you internally scold yourself for being shy about something so silly- like some naive adolescent.
"Let's try a couple more words, since you've been such a diligent student."
"Okay," you say with a smile, "try me, I'll do my best."
"Hmm..." he looks around your private clearing, then gestures towards the brook and says, "Jala"
"Jala," you repeat slowly. He nods,
"Right- that's 'water'. And, uhm..." he points toward a patch of wildflowers at the edge of the brook, "Phula. That's 'flower'."
Again, you repeat as best you can, and though you know your pronunciation must be off, he's encouraging nonetheless. Then, he leans in towards you, and brings his free hand to your cheek, his fingertips brushing your skin lightly.
"Now try sundara."
"... Sundara?" you make an attempt, and you're sure you got something about that 's' sound mixed up, but Khalid just gives you a slanted smile. He doesn't clarify at first, so you ask, "What does that one mean?"
His fingers slowly weave back into your hair, and his voice is low and soothing as he replies,
"That means 'beautiful'."
Your face warms immediately, but you hardly have a moment to feel bashful about it before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you slow and deep. His movements are effortlessly sensual, pulling you towards him and sending your pulse pounding through your veins. You part your lips to him almost instinctively, and the way he uses his tongue is sparing, but oh-so effective. When he finally pulls away, your head is spinning and it's all you can do to meet his gaze.
"So... that's how they kiss in Almyra." you say, barely above a whisper. Khalid smirks and turns you onto your back, sliding an arm around your waist.
"Oh, no- there's no tradition in this, only skill."
Goddess- if they'd warned you of the King's supernatural charms, you wouldn't have believed them. But now his lips are on yours once again, and he's holding your body to his, and you can't think of anything else. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and faster than you can track, your bodies have met in a tangled, impassioned embrace. It was hard to imagine that mere kissing could feel so erotic, but something about his pace, about how his lips and hands move in tandem, about how thorough he is in exploring you, makes you feel like it would be only natural to give yourself over to him completely.
His kiss travels along your jawline up to the shell of your ear, where he nips briefly, then murmurs,
"I was hoping to apologize for how little time we've had to get to know each other before today," you bite at your bottom lip as his hand slides down to the curve of your hip, "if that would be pleasing to you, my dearest wife."
"Ye- yes..." you sigh into the open air as his lips reach your neck. The single word is all either of you need. He never stops pressing lavish kisses to your lips and neck as he pulls your clothing out of his way. By the time he's satisfied, your clothes are draped off your arms and pooling around you on the blanket- and he doesn't seem to care to remove them entirely. He has a goal in mind.
Slowly, painstakingly, he makes his way down your body. You feel him everywhere- hands tracing and memorizing your frame, breath hot across your skin as his lips spoil you with adoring kisses. Soon enough, he's kissed his way to your lower stomach, and he urges your thighs apart beneath him. You suppress the instinctive wave of embarrassment at being exposed to him for the first time- he is your husband and your King, afterall- but then, his head dips down towards your plump lower lips, and your mind goes white.
"Khalid-!" you gasp out as his tongue trails coyly up the crease of your folds. He hums contentedly, and places a disarmingly chaste kiss to the soft skin. Then, his thumbs gently spread you open for him, and your entire body burns while he takes a moment to merely admire you- your pretty little hole already wet, your clit already hard and flushed dark. When his head lowers once more, his green eyes meet yours steadily, as though to promise without words to be good to you.
And in a moment, his mouth begins to gently tease your clit, and your head tilts back on the blanket. Your hips jerk just a bit with each pass of his tongue across the sensitive bundle, and occasionally you can't hold in a gasp or whimper of pleasure. This only encourages him, of course. The more you moan and sigh, the more dedicated he becomes to your body. He presses himself more firmly to you, his lips surrounding your clit and the surrounding tender flesh, and he suckles on you, licks you, kisses you. You don't know when it happened, but your hands are at the back of his head, fists tangled in thick brown hair as he diligently works.
The unbearable tension is winding tight and anxious in your lower body- you know he'll drive you to climax before long, and the mere thought feels like falling in love. And then Khalid moves lower, and his tongue dips inside of your entrance. You gasp and unwittingly tug on his hair- but he certainly doesn't seem to mind. With a lustful groan, he presses more firmly to you, truly buried against your body as his dexterous tongue curls upward, stroking the vulnerable spot behind the nerves of your clit.
"Khalid!" this time it's nearly a scream, and you're grateful that your voice is lost in the surrounding foliage. Your thighs begin to shake, and your hands release him to instead clutch the blanket behind you. And at last, with a whimper in a voice you hardly recognize, your lower body floods with soaked warmth as your orgasm sweeps through you. Panting, twitching, you moan out for your husband over and over, until finally, the wave begins to subside, and Khalid pulls away to position himself above you on all fours.
"That's a nice expression..." he says with a grin, directing you to look at him with a hand at your chin, "I hope I'll get to see it often."
When your eyes finally refocus, you look up at him somewhat apologetically,
"I should... attend to you."
He laughs and kisses your forehead,
"There will be time for that tonight, don't you think? Once we're a bit more... put together," he says with a glance at your bare form, "we should head back to our ride. I'll bring you back to the castle, and we'll get the cooks to prepare something very 'Almyran' for you."
You nod- it probably wouldn't do for the first time with your Lord Husband to be mid-day in the woods. Though he'd certainly failed to make it seem unappealing.
"And then," he goes on, bringing a finger to trace the curve of your bottom lip, "Well, maybe we'll excuse ourselves to our bedchamber a bit early this evening, and we can continue this little... cultural exchange."
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lovesanmotion · 3 years
Text
ateez reacts: in a serious arguement with s/o
💌 This is: requested
Hongjoong: 
When you met Hongjoong, it was the happiest day of your life. Everytime you get sad, your brain takes a trip down memory lane and reminds you of the day when you met him. Of course it brings a smile on your face. However, a happy memory can no longer bring happiness to you. 
Arguement after arguement, nothing seems to be coming to peace between you and Hongjoong. One heated night, tensions arose once more between the two of you, arguing how Hongjoong so desperately wants a child but you say you still weren’t ready. 
“We’ve been married for three fucking years! If only I knew our marriage is going into a shithole, I shouldn’t have married you or should have opted for a second marriage!” Hongjoong slams his fist onto the wooden table that broke and slid down on the floor. Tears brimmed your eyes at the impact and weight of his words. You felt guilty and to blame for. 
“Y-Y/N- I didn’t mean that..” Hongjoong spoke, his features softening as he tries to approach you. But you looked up to him, your visions blurry at the tears ooling in your eyes. 
“No it’s okay. It’s really okay. It looks like you’ve made up your mind and why should I get in the way? I hope you’re happy with the choice you’ve made.” You smiled at him, despite the pain and emotional stress you’ve pent up for weeks, you let it all out by crying yourself to sleep, And when the morning comes, you quietly slip out of the shared apartment and Hongjoong’s life. 
Seonghwa: 
Days spent with Seonghwa always felt like walking into a flowery road that would lead you two into happiness. And the road is endless, you were sure that he’s the one for you. But you spoke too soon. 
Now, throwing plates are being thrown at one another, dodging those plates as they hit on the walls and picture frames. As Seonghwa throws a plate, it narrowly misses you and smashes into the picture frame that you took on your first date. And suddenly, the world made you two stop and stare and take in everything that happened for the past few minutes. Neither of you two could speak, let alone look at each other in the eye. What happened, happened. And now the silence spoke for the two of you. 
Yunho: 
Your parents were against you dating Yunho. Why? They know for a fact that relationships between an idol and non idol partner were uncommon and would never work due to the fact that the idol’s schedules are hectic and almost has no room for them to breathe into their personal lives. But you still wanted to be with Yunho. At the same time, Yunho’s parents were aginst him dating you as well. Why? To put it simply, you are non idol. They want someone for him who walks down the runways or sings in sold out arenas, but you didn’t fit in any category. 
And lately, it seemed to you that Yunho was slowly giving in to his parents’ wishes. The photos he uploads on his Instagram stories includes different women every night, all of them are not like you. It pains you that this silent arguement kept on going between you two. And one day, while on a walk with Yunho, you stopped walking. You were somehow hoping that he would stop from his tracks and look back at you, if you were catching up to. But to see him continue walking without even going back to look at you is already enough to know where you two are heading. 
Yeosang: 
Yeosang coming into your life was the best thing that has ever happened to your existence up to day. Though you two have different worlds, you solely depended your life and happiness to him. And the world seemed to be in favor of you, after a year of dating, he got down on one knee and married you in front of hundreds of people. You were the happiest, nothing in this world could ever make you sad, as long as Yeosang’s beside you. 
But what if your world’s the one that decides to hurt you? Weeks after the marriage, Yeosang had a complete change of heart. He stopped coming home to you and was always spotted with a certain someone whenever he is outside. Whenever you confronted to him about it, he tells you not to worry. But you knew it was a lie and without knowing, you unconsciously raised your hand and swung it across his face. 
Was it enough to make him feel the pain you feel? Maybe not. But was worth it? Yes. You hated yourself for being not good enough, but most importantly, you hated yourself for depending your happines to a person. 
San: 
They say “nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same”, but you love to disagree with that saying. What about the elderly couples who found love and comfort in each other and are growing old together? What about those couples who, after so many lifetimes, still find each other in different life times? 
Being young and naive has its cons, but you believe in the idea of love and all its forms. And that is what brought yout to believe that San is the one for you. Talking about your plans together, what you two would want to be in the long run, how many children he wants to have. You are young and naive but believe in the idea of love and all its forms. 
But when everything comes spiraling down, a false rumour spreading against you and San chooses to believe whoever spreaded the rumour and never listened to any word you say made you think about the saying. You never confronted San anymore as you let the relationship that you so love and dear fall apart before you. 
Mingi: 
When you got into a relationship with Mingi, you never suspected anything. Nothing was suspiscious and out of the place at all. But after a year of dating did it only made you realize why you were somehow suspiscious: not once did you two fight each other. You couldn’t believe how a year of dating Mingi and is the most healthiest relationship you have ever been. This is exactly what you wanted that others want too, and you were lucky and thankful at the same time. 
But you never got along with his friends, and so did your friends with him too. Whenever they would go out and drink, they would often talk about you and often make up lies about you. This went unnoticed to you, how toxic his friend group. Until one day, Mingi confronted you with all the things his friends have said about you. You argued back by saying how could he believe them instead of listening to what you have to say. THe night went on you two cursing at each other until it was inevitable to fix whatever you two had build together. 
Wooyoung: 
After being married to Wooyoung, you thought everything would fall into place. However, three months into the marriage, not one day did he initiate any itimacy with you. It was always the “good morningy/n” and “i’m going to work now”. He was never like that before when you two were dating, you wondered what caused him to be so cold towards you. 
“When can we expect a grandchild?” Your mother in law asks. 
“Having a child is too early. Y/N and I are still enjoying each other’s company, that’s what matters, mother.” Wooyoung smoothly answers for you. You felt small in the eyes of your in laws, unable to tell them the truth. 
“Do you really think its too soon for us to have a child?” You ask as you cleaned the dishes once his parents left. 
“Having a child is too much right now. My parents even want you to stop working.” 
And that’s when your soft facade cracked. First, Wooyoung has been so cold towards you, second, his family belittled you earlier and now they want to take away the career you’ve worked hard to get. You couldn’t help but let out a dramatic, long sigh and ranted everything that you’ve been feeling. 
“And do you think I have it nicely for me? That you think everything is going well for me? Maybe marrying you was a mistake.” 
Jongho: 
Jongho was never almost always home. He was always outside, impressing his bosses by taking them out to restaurants, treating them to lavish parties and women while you were left at home, having to take care of your eleventh month baby and worried sick if he’ll ever come home. As a good wife, you’ve made everything for him - cook his food, iron his home and work clothes, kept the side of this bed warm and always makes sure he still has hot water to use in the shower. But then, those things that you do for him tires you out now, and you no longer continue to do them for him. 
When he complains how he comes home with no food and a cold shower to use, you kept yourself quiet and moved around like a ghost. Jongho walks up to you and takes a hold on the back of your head, motioning you to turn around to him.
“If I ask you something, you should respond. I’m your husband.” He spat, but you looked at him with hate and pushed yourself off his hold.  
“Husband? You’re always and never home, if only your son could talk right now, he would always ask for you. It’s always me who runs around this house! And I got tired of waiting for you! You don’t how it feels, because you’re too busy kissing other people’s asses!” 
Jongho’s pushes you away from him, maybe a little too agrressive when you landed on the floor with a loud thud. That night, Jongho slept on the couch, and you on the little bedding inside the baby room. Maybe a divorce doesn’t sound so bad after all. 
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russadler · 3 years
Text
All That Remains: Chapter Two
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PREVIOUS CHAPTER
A look back to happier times and a defining conversation
A/N: Hey lol once again sorry I took so long. This chapter is relatively shortish (?) because it was originally part of the next chapter, but I decided to split it since it was getting long lmao. The next chapter will actually be coming soon I promise I was like almost finished but decided to publish this section since it was done and yall need to get fed.
Also another note I guess? I refer to Russell as “Adler” even though its third person Sophie centric. I believe since they came to know each other through work, Sophie only initially heard/knew of him by his last name and will still refer to him in her mind as such. I didn’t do this much in the first chapter but I thought about it and also it felt weird calling him Russell all the time LMFAOO
August 2nd, 1980
“…I’m surprised you never had kids.” 
It’s more of a question than a statement, and an admittedly nosey one. They’re currently in the midst of a very picturesque picnic in a field of their choosing, the pair of them eating lunch while sprawled across a spare blanket pulled from the back of Russell’s car. The man in question is currently laid on his side, chewing a strawberry and peering up at her with a curiously cocked eyebrow making an appearance over the rim of his aviators. 
Sophie wriggles under the scrutiny, a blush rising to her cheeks as she redirects her eyes towards her leather boots with a timid huff. They had been together for more than enough time by now, enough time for the lustre of having Russell Adler as her boyfriend to have worn off. Yet, even all these months later, a mere glance from the man was enough to leave her flushed and stumbling over her words. 
“I’m sorry —“ She rushes to apologize, sandwich suddenly forgotten as she picks sheepishly at a loose thread on her dress. She had meant to word things a little…differently, but who was she kidding? it wasn’t her place to ask such things in the first place.
With Russell, the more you pressed him, the further away he pulled. His trust came with patience and time, a small price Sophie didn’t mind paying. There were things he held close to himself, his marriage being one of them. It was obviously a sensitive topic, or at least one he didn’t enjoy talking about. She hadn’t intended to interrogate him about the fact he didn’t have any children despite being married for a little over a decade, it was his business. Only recently had he begun sharing that part of his life with her, and it was a sign of his trust that she deeply valued.  
And here she went, utterly obliterating that carefully constructed confidence because she seemed to lack a brain-to-mouth filter.
“You’re fine, kid.”  Russell soothes, interrupting her scattered thoughts. The woman manages to to will herself to look at him again, where his enlivened grin signaling he was more amused than offended by the statement. 
He sits up, and one of his hands moves to rub at her thigh in reassurance. “I admire that you’re always pretty straight to the point.” He notes lightheartedly, subtly pacifying her current flustered state.
The woman huffs, self conscious despite the comforting words. "It gets me in trouble way too much.” She confesses, biting into her sandwich a bit too harshly. It was true. She had a terrible habit of being too honest for as long as she could remember, and it had made for some terribly awkward experiences throughout her life.
“I’d argue telling the truth is a pretty good thing to get in trouble for.” Adler remarks in return, his hand remaining on her thigh as he continues with his lunch. She could tell he was making a point of appearing relatively unconcerned about the whole thing, likely in a bid to provide her some sense of consolation. The man was leaving little room for her to feel upset at herself. 
Sophie releases a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and relaxes, shoulders loosening as she finishes the last of her sandwich. 
There’s another beat of silence, and then it occurs to her that Russell had managed yet again to wriggle his way out of talking about himself. It was a common pattern, nearly every time she attempted to make conversation that centered around him, he would artfully steer the conversation away from himself and find a way to redirect the topic towards her. 
He was annoyingly good at it, too, and she was just starting to catch on that he was doing it in the first place. 
“Wait! You didn’t answer the question!” The brunette gasps, exasperated. “You always do this!” 
“Do what?” Russell retorts, behaving as if he were completely ignorant of what was the matter. He always acted as if he didn’t know.
“You always find a way to not answer me! Every time you change the subject and then hope I forget!” The woman laughs, failing miserably in her attempt to come across as annoyed. His behavior was maddening, but Sophie often found she was less irritated and more awestruck that the man was so artful at playing people. 
“I’d never do that, you’re just making things up.” Russell quips, mouth twisted with a lopsided smile as he continues the playful banter. “I love talking about myself, actually. Could do it all day.” 
Adler just keeps smirking, stuffing a strawberry into his mouth as he does. The younger rolls her eyes, because as much as she loved him, the man could seriously be a pain. “You don’t actually have to answer the question if you don’t want to. ” She adds, humor now absent from her voice as she quietly rearranges the bundle of wildflowers she had picked.
“I said it was fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.” Russell tells her again, his voice calm and even as he continues to rub circles into her skin. There’s a brief pause, and suddenly the hand on her thigh stops moving. “Wait, do you want kids? Is this your way of asking?” He asks, his head suddenly shifting to level her with a steely gaze. Despite the presence of the aviators on his face, she can feel the intensity of his stare. The man’s demeanor had grown suddenly serious, alert even.
“No! I mean…kids are nice and all and I don’t mind them…but I’m not really dead set on having them.” She explains, her own hand darting to grasp Russell’s larger one. From one moment to the next, it had suddenly become her turn to offer reassurance. “In all honesty, I feel I’d quite rather do without them, really.” She returns the man’s heavy gaze with one of her own, both in search of his reaction and in the hopes of communicating her honesty. "I was just…curious.” She admits shyly.
It was the truth, she wasn’t one of those girls whose ultimate life goal was of being a housewife with the white picket fence, apple pies, and endless kids. There was nothing wrong with that ideal per say, but it wasn’t something she saw herself wanting. 
The woman wasn’t really looking to make children a part of her life. If it happened, it happened, but she could go without them and feel just fine about it. 
Russell, on his part, seemed relieved. Accepting her answer with a nod, his gaze moves towards the sky above as he gives her hand a short squeeze.
Then to her complete surprise, he decides to answer the question anyways. Sophie turns to look at the taller as he begins to speak, shifting to lay on her left side and face him as he leaned back on his hands. 
“Well...there’s a lot of reasons, really. First, my job.” Adler then pauses to spare her a brief glance, as if to ensure she understood what he was attempting to convey. It was no secret that Russell was often away, leaving her for weeks and sometimes months on end. She was never allowed to have any hint of what he was doing or even where he was going, all that she could know was that his work was very important and very dangerous. 
Sometimes she found herself sitting at home and just hoping he was still alive. Confirmation that he was okay only came when he either called her to say he was coming home (which was rare) or until he appeared out of the blue. It wasn’t a feeling she liked having, and a sentiment Russell hated subjecting her to.  
It was just the way it was, the way it had to be. Their relationship would always come second to work, Adler had made that very clear from the start. She was either in or out, and he made sure that she knew the price that she would be paying in being with him.
Russell sighs, the exhale sounding deep and tired before he continues. “It would be unfair to do that to a kid, they wouldn’t understand why their dad was away all the time...And it would have been unfair to my ex, she would have had to essentially raise them all on her own.” 
Sophie nods silently in understanding, the living scenario was on she had come to understand personally. The periods of absence would be difficult on both mother and child for various reasons, and it was good that the couple had weighed the risks.
“Some of the guys at work are okay with that, and have wives that were okay with that, but for us..?” He continues, voice even as he grasps one of the flowers she had stuffed into the picnic basket and begins rolling the stem between his thumb and pointer finger. “We didn’t want kids that bad. We were okay, just it being the two of us.”
“You both ended up going your separate ways, too. I could imagine if you had kids that would have been a nightmare.” She adds, a relatively astute observation but one that she felt was worth mentioning. They had made the right choice after all, it had seemed. 
“God, I’m thankful we didn’t for that reason especially.” Russell replies with audible relief, thankful that children hadn’t been something to consider in their subsequent divorce. 
There’s a moment of silence, and she thinks he’s finished speaking, especially seeing that he officially answered her question. 
But then he sits up properly, clearing his throat before speaking once more. “And all these years later my feelings about it are the same and I don’t regret it.” He tells her, sounding confident and assured as he rips most of the stem away from the main portion of the flower with a powerful yank. “Even if I wanted them now, I’m a bit too old to be a dad. So that ship has long sailed.” 
Sophie nods. Russell was a man of very few regrets, and his sense of judgement was one she had come to trust wholeheartedly. He turns to her, an arm reaching out to tuck a few locks of her hair out of the way before placing the remainder of the flower behind her ear. 
The woman smiles so hard her cheeks ache. Russell Adler was a romantic, despite the fact he vehemently denies it. It was true and no one was going to believe her ever. “I don’t think you really missed out, everyone I know who has kids just complains about them.” She states, still smiling.
The taller’s chest rumbles with a chuckle. Having carefully maneuvering the food out of the way, he then wraps an arm around her shoulders, he pulls her down to lay at his side as she lets out a surprised squeak. “Have we been talking to the same people?” He asks. 
“If one of them is named Jason Hudson, then yes.”
Russell laughs then, and it’s music to her ears.
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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years
Text
Of Kings and Beasts  -  Seven
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Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve
Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.
Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Violence, Language (Maybe)
Word Count: 3.7K
A/n: hello friends! Enjoy this plz. also idk what’s wrong but I’m having a hard time remembering things and my brain is just super mush. I think I’m like, malnourished and exhausted but I really don’t know. Goodnight though, I love you all!
THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!
Series Masterlist
~*~
“How many times must I explain this? I hardly remember anything. I could barely see his face through the snow. I know not his name nor his rank, all I know is that he was wearing the armour of a Knight.” You’re getting frustrated now as you explain for what feels like the thousandth time what happened before you ventured out into the snow.
James and Steve exchange glances.
“I did not send for her. And I know you would not trust her safety in the hands of anyone who has not fought alongside you in battle. I believe-” James stops speaking abruptly, shaking his head. He’s not sure who is trying to sabotage his marriage, and he doesn’t want them to know that he knows.
“What?” You ask softly, stepping towards him. He takes a step back and you frown. You’d thought that after the night you had spent with the man that he would be more open to having you, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
“Nat!” The redhead is in Steve’s office as soon as he says her name.
“I want you or Sam with (Y/n) at all times. You may only leave her side if you are directly dismissed by one of the three of us. Do you understand?” She nods, guilt heavy in her gut at the fact that you could’ve died because of her carelessness.
“Have Clint bring the stable boy here. I want him to give me details. I need to know who the traitor is and why they want my wife dead,” Steve says after a moment, his eyes hard at the thought of someone wanting to bring you harm.
“I’ll go,” James pipes in, avoiding your eyes as he walks to the door, closing it tightly behind himself.
Your shoulders slump and you shake your head sadly. “I had thought that after our night... we may be starting to rebuild our relationship. However, it seems as though he does not wish for that to happen.” Steve sighs, walking around his desk to wrap his arms around your frame.
“He is sad and afraid. He has not been himself for a long while, but he will come back.” Your bottom lip quivers and you curse yourself for being so emotional.
“I do not wish to be the cause of his unhappiness. At times I wonder if it would be better if I stayed away. If I allowed the two of you to continue as if I were not here at all.” Steve turns you around and lifts your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
“You are very important to both of us. If he truly wanted you out of the picture he would not have gone out to find you. You matter far too much to the both of us. He will come around again, he just needs some time.”
A knock on the door pulls your attention from him and you sniffle, wiping a stray tear off of your cheek.
“Come in.”
The door gets pushed open and a red-faced young man scurries in, his eyes focused on the ground as he bows.
“Y-you called for me, Your Majesties?” Your heart warms at the obvious nervousness.
“What is your name?” You ask, cutting Steve off. He raises his eyebrows at you and you simply smile, taking a step away from him and towards the boy.
“P-Peter, Your Majesty. A-and I did not mean for any harm to come to you. I was led to believe that the man was indeed a knight of the king and that the business transpiring was none that should involve me. I ask that you are lenient in your punishment, for I truly enjoy my position and I am so grateful that you have given me the opportunity to work here. I-” You raise your hand, silencing his rambling and looking every bit like the queen you are.
Steve watches from behind you, never having seen you truly take control of the title you have.
“You will not be punished for following the orders of someone who seemed to be an honest man. No harm came from it. We simply would like to know if you have any recollection of his name or his rank. Or perhaps a description of his appearance.” The boy stares at you in shock before looking to the King. Steve simply nods and the boy inhales deeply.
“I did not gather his name nor his rank, Your Majesty. But he seemed tall. Not as tall as the King, Mind you, but still taller than most knights. And his build was slimmer, which I found surprising. I should’ve questioned it and I will spend my days regretting that I did not because our Kingdom could have lost its queen due to my carelessness and-”
“Peter, please stay focused,” Steve says. The boy swallows hard and nods, clearing his throat before speaking again.
“He had... dark hair and dark eyes... bared no resemblance to any knight I’ve ever seen before. He lacked the composure of a knight as well. It almost seemed as if he were trying to mimic the actions of one.” You turn to Steve, brows raised at this new information.
“Thank you, Peter. That will be all.” The boy bows again then hurries out of the room.
“So someone was able to pose as a knight? But who? And why? I hardly have a purpose in the kingdom. Why did I become a target?” Steve shakes his head, wishing he had the answers of which you seek.
“I know not. But I will be bringing this up when James and I meet with the council next. Any threat against our wife is a direct threat against our kingdom, and justice needs to be served.” The mention of your other husband has your heart aching.
“Do... do you think he would talk to me were I to find him?” You ask. Steve purses his lips. James seemed so comfortable with you the other night. He hates the thought, but maybe it’s his presence that is making James so distant.
“There is no harm in trying. Have Natalia accompany you.” You nod, gathering your skirts and hurrying out of the room, the redhead hot on your heels.
“I offer you my sincerest apologies, your majesty. I should have been there.” You shake your head at her, smiling softly.
“Do not apologize, Natalia. No one was harmed.” you pause just as you’re about to walk past the glass doors leading to the gardens, a glint of silver catching your eye.
“You may wait here. I fear having any more of an audience will only have a negative effect,” you whisper, pushing the door open and venturing into the snow.
Natalia stands just outside the door, watching with her hand on the hilt of her sword as you walk down the path towards the brooding king.
“James?” You call, waiting until he looks at you.
“You should not be here,” he murmurs, his eyes closing tightly and his hands clenching into fists. He huffs out heavy breaths through his nose, the air forming a misty cloud that dissipates slowly.
“James, please. I cannot stand the distance you put between us. I am begging you to let me in.” He grinds his teeth together, his face contorting in what looks like pain before suddenly going stoic.
He’s quiet for a long moment, long enough for you to slowly approach him, fingers prickling in the cold winter air.
“James?” You ask softly, hoping he’s ready to open up to you again.
His eyes snap open and in a flash of silver, he’s got his metal hand wrapped around your throat, fingers flexing and nearly crushing your windpipe.
Your eyes widen and you instinctively grab at the metal appendage.
His face is devoid of emotion as he lifts you nearly clean off the ground, the tips of your toes hardly brushing the ground. Your lungs burn and tears of pain and discomfort well up in your eyes.
There’s a whooshing sound and then he grunts, toppling to the left and dropping you to the ground.
You collapse in a heap, hands grabbing at your throat protectively as you draw in huge lungfuls of air between painful coughs.
The sound of metal clanging against metal has your eyes shooting upwards just in time to see two swords connect above you, one belonging to the king and the other belonging to Natalia.
“Your Majesty, get back!” She shouts, her eyes on you for a brief moment.
You scramble through the snow, trying to get to the palace and call for help.
James overpowers the redhead with practiced ease, and then his murderous gaze is focused on you again.
Fear freezes you in place and you stare up at him with wide eyes while Natalia is screaming for him to stop, for someone to come to your aid.
His sword comes down right as a powerful hand jerks you to the side.
The blow that was meant to kill you draws a red line across your cheek, blood spilling out and trailing down your chin.
The hot liquid splatters against the frozen snow, melting a hole and staining the white.
For a moment you’re reminded of your place in the world. A stain against purity. A mistake.
You’re wrenched back to reality by hands yanking you backwards, away from where the two Kings fight each other, Steve with desperation and James with determination.
“Come, Majesty.” Nat helps you inside but you don’t move past the doors, heart hammering in your chest as guards rush out to help the blond king.
“Your Majesty, you’re injured. We must-” you shake your head at her, eyes far too focused on the fight.
James manages to knock Steve’s sword away but is quickly distracted by the other men, giving the blond an opportunity to deliver a nasty blow to the back of his head.
The brunet collapses in the snow, groaning and grabbing his head.
You watch with nothing but terror and tears in your eyes as he slowly pushes himself to his knees, familiar blue eyes looking around in confusion.
They land on you, blood on your cheek and fear in your eyes and he nearly throws up as he realizes what he’s done.
“James?” He shakes his head at Steve, stumbling to his feet and hurrying into the Palace.
“James!” He runs straight past you and down the hallway, disappearing after a few moments.
Steve stands in the snow, blue eyes narrowed and pink lips parted. He pants, trying to gather his thoughts while the cold air bites his cheeks and the tip of his nose.
Steve is at your side in a flash, his hand cupping your cheek and angling your head to allow himself to inspect your wound.
“Just a scratch,” he murmurs, brows drawn together as he glances to where his husband was.
Your eyes, however, are drawn to a movement in the garden.
A familiar pair of muddy brown eyes stand out against the snow and you inhale sharply.
“Steve, it’s him.” He follows your gaze to the garden,
“Guards!” He shouts, grabbing his sword and hurrying out into the snow.
“Please, your majesty. I need to tend to your wound.” You finally allow Natalia to drag you away, but not before hearing Steve mention something about the dungeon to one of the guards with him.
~*~
You toss and turn all throughout the night, missing the warmth of your husband and beyond afraid at the events of the day.
Not only were you attacked, but you also potentially caught the man who wants you dead.
The worst part? Steve has given you zero information. No matter how much you asked, he refused to say a single thing about James or the stranger in the garden.
So that is how you have ended up here, pacing through the dark palace halls in search of your blond husband.
As you’re leaving his empty office you hear a whisper of your name, followed by a soft laugh.
You frown and follow the sound, the voice beckoning you closer and yet getting further away every time you approach.
The voice leads you through the halls for what feels like hours until you find yourself in front of a wooden door that nearly blends in with the walls around it.
Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you push the door open. It creaks loudly and you instinctively look around to make sure that no one heard.
Once deeming the coast to be clear, you slowly walk through the doorway and nearly fall.
It’s a spiral staircase going downwards.
Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you take the steps one at a time, getting reminded of all the times you snuck around the Palace back home.
Through the darkness, there’s a yellow glow that you identify as candlelight.
You dare not step into the light, so instead, you stay tucked safely around the corner, ears straining to hear... anything.
You make out two voices, one of them far more familiar than the other.
“I am going to ask you one last time: who is it that is plotting against me?” Steve demands.
The other man sounds weak, his breath coming in ragged pants.
You risk a glance around the corner, eyes finding the two in the dimly lit room. Th man on the ground is bloody and bruised and you can hardly recognize him until he speaks.
“You’d best be careful who you allow into your circle, your Majesty. I serve my Kingdom, but not all who are close to you are true to their word. Is it not suspicious that so many terrible events have occurred so soon after the Queen was brought here?” Steve's hand comes down hard against the man’s face and you hold back a gasp.
“If you do not cooperate and answer truthfully, I will rip your teeth out one by one and force them down your throat.”
The man spits blood onto the ground then chuckles weakly.
His bloodied face is too much for you, and you turn on your heel and run up the stairs as silently as you can, hands trembling with fear and disgust as you realize that both kings are brutal in their own sick ways.
“You know I speak the truth. The change in your husband has only occurred since your wife has been here. Has Orlen always been a friend to us? Or have they been trying to get into our Kingdom to take what they wish?”
Steve is silent for just a moment too long, long enough for the man to know he struck a nerve.
“If you wish to kill me, do so. But remember my warning. And do not be surprised when she turns on you, too.”
~*~
He doesn’t return to his chambers for nearly an hour after that, and as much as you try, you cannot fall asleep after what you witnessed.
Sure, you expected there to be consequences, but you never imagined that Steve would torture the man with his own hands.
When he finally returns to you, he climbs into bed without noticing your stiff figure.
His arm comes around your waist as it usually would, and you try your hardest not to flinch away from him.
A single glance down shows you his split knuckles and you have to bite your lip to stop from making a noise of fear.
He falls asleep quickly behind you, and you’re horrified at how comfortable he is with being so brutal to another human being.
~*~
The King paces in his office, the question of the prisoner echoing in his mind.
He had not even considered the possibility of you being responsible for the change in his husband’s demeanour, but it only started since you came to the palace.
A weight settles in the pit of his stomach and he takes a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down.
He needs to speak to you immediately.
Just as he pulls the door to his study open, you raise your hand to knock.
“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing your chest and taking a sharp breath.
“You startled me. I was just coming to find you. H-have you any news of James?” Your eyes stray down to his split knuckles and Steve takes notice of the tension in your shoulders.
“He’s locked himself in the east wing. He refuses to speak to anyone but doctor banner,” he says, voice stiff and mechanical.
You nod slowly, stepping into the room when he steps aside and motions you to come in.
It’s silent for a long moment, the pressure nearly making your eardrums burst.
You want him to say something, anything. Explain what happened last night or what’s going on today. You’re far too terrified to ask him, however. After witnessing what you did... you do not want to anger him.
That seems to be a futile wish, however.
“Is he alright?” You try, hoping that this is a safe topic.
Steve doesn’t reply. No, instead he paces slowly around the room.
“Do you take me for a fool?” He asks, eyes finding you for the first time.
“What are you talking about?” You’re genuinely curious, trying to think of what you could’ve done to make him ask you this.
“I will ask you again, and this time you will answer. Do you take me for a fool?” He’s walking to you now, steps purposeful and intimidating, a walk that he has practiced and perfected.
You back up a step, fear coursing through your veins. “N-no, of course not. What is this about, Steve?”
“You will address me properly.” You’ve never seen this side of him before. Except for last night.
“I-I don’t think I am understanding... Your Majesty.” You’re not sure if you are more disappointed or sad, but you drop your eyes to the floor.
“Rumours have been spoken, words whispered of a traitor among us. Someone who wishes for the kingdom to fall. Someone close to myself.”
You furrow your brows, taken aback by the accusation.
“And you think me capable of that?” You demand.
He shrugs but his eyes are anything but calm. There’s a fiery storm in his blue eyes, accusation and rage simmering just beneath the surface.
“I hardly know you. It would be foolish of me to think you are anything more than a spy sent by Orlen.” Your heart hurts and you need to take a few deep breaths before you speak.
“I have been nothing but loyal to you, your husband, and your kingdom. Who might I even have to conspire with? I have not been allowed near the people, and I fear my own ladies because their loyalties lie with you.”
Your words ring with truths that even you didn’t consider until now. Steve opens his mouth to speak but you do not allow him a turn.
“I have not breathed a word of the brutalities I have experienced at the hand of your beloved. I have not even dreamed of leaving the castle walls for fear of what consequences would await such thoughts. From the moment I arrived, I have been treated like dirt and yet you stand here with the audacity to question my loyalties!”
He’s taken aback for a moment. He wants to trust you, he really does, but he just can't. Not after what the man said last night. It makes too much sense that you would do this.
“You speak of rumours... as if you do not have your own to worry about. Your brutality is spoken of throughout the continent. Clearly, the rumours hold true, for your brutality extends far beyond the lines of the battlefield. The kings show no mercy, not even to their wife in the privacy of their bed chambers.”
He grabs your forearms tightly, face full of fury.
“You will watch your tongue, woman!” You huff out a breath and shake your head, face contorting in pain as his grip tightens.
“You are so quick to accuse me when you were nowhere to be found in a time that I needed you.” His brows raise nearly to his hairline.
“Are you implying that I had a hand in that?” He demands, a vein in his forehead throbbing as he only gets more furious.
“I imply nothing, your majesty. I am simply taking note of the fact that you were conveniently away during a time when I was in peril.”
His hand comes up before he can register what’s happening, and then you’re tumbling to the floor, the crisp sound of a slap ringing in his ears.
Your hands tremble and your cheek burns. You stay rooted in place, eyes squeezed shut in fear as he towers over you.
He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes wide with horror at himself.
“Your actions only further prove my point,” you whisper, blinking your eyes open to suppress your tears.
“And do yours not prove mine?” He counters, glaring at you as you rub your aching wrists. Seeing you cower beneath him, so small and so fragile, his anger starts to melt away.
“I would like to remind you, Your Majesty, that I do not benefit from being here. I have only traded one prison for another, and I am not sure how much longer I will endure such treatment.”
He opens his mouth to speak, one hand extending to help you to your feet. His eyes find a line of red on your cheek and he glances down at his hand, the mark on your cheek matching his wedding band.
Now you have matching scratches on either side of your face.
“Do not touch me,” you hiss, glaring up at him with wet eyes.
He’s crouching down when there’s a knock on the door. Sam pushes it open without waiting for an invitation but the look on his face is enough for Steve not to snap at him.
“There’s been an attempt on Doctor Banner’s life.”
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