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gumballavocadoharry · 2 years

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You found me:

The cold brisk of London only made me move quicker to my house. I was looking forward to the warm aroma where I could sit in my favorite chair, a cup of tea and a good book to relax my mind after a hard day at work. I was a stock clerk at a grocery store and today was just perfect to have 2 spilled milks, shattered bottle of wine and an egg crack catastrophe in the dairy aisle.

October weather did that to you. The orange and reddish leaves falling from the branches while walking down the brick covered road was picture book worthy. My hair that was neatly tucked into a bun, had a few free strands swaying to the best of the wind. My somber mood was non existent this morning, until a few nasty customers, an overly demanding boss because of his recent divorce and all the messes I mentioned contributed to the pushed down aggression that rose inside me the more I pondered on it.

The gray clouds mixed with the fall wind made me sleepy. My eyes started to close a little, but I jerked myself awake once I realized the walk home was still 5 minutes away. I walked past this brick building that I assumed to be a school, but there was this brown cardboard box that was soggy and splotchy. I heard some narrow cries from it.

I took a step back thinking it was maybe a mother cat and her kittens up for sale that nobody noticed. I hesitantly made my way over to the box and peeped inside. That's when I noticed a tiny baby that couldn't have weighed more than 4 pounds crying weakly. He had a blue blanket wrapped around him and he was dirty liked he hadn't had a bath in days. His cry wasn't that loud but I could tell it was a hungry cry from the suckiling sounds he was making with his mouth.

"Poor thing" I mumbled trying to situate the little baby in my arms. He looked like a newborn baby which made his situation worse to me because he was probably just born and no one wanted him. Or maybe his mother just couldn't take care of him. It dawned on me that no one heard his cry because it was so light, who knows how long he's been out here.

Poor baby didn't have a hat or really anything to protect him from the cold other than the blanket. I held him halfway inside my coat and tried to find an adoption agency. It was too cold and we were both tired and hungry so I called it quits and decided to continue this in the morning before work. Me and baby stumbled home to my apartment, where the lobby was empty despite how this morning it was raging with people from a party in one of the apartments from the 9th floor.

That's the fancy apartments at the top where they get more terrace space. I walked through to the elevators where my heart was beating out of my chest. I didn't like the neighbors knowing my business and vice versa. I mostly kept to myself and tried to keep it the same way with everyone else unless I absolutely had to talk to them or if they said "hi" or such.

I fiddled with my keys before going inside and locking the door immediately behind me. it's a useful habit but today it was very obligatory. I didn't want anyone following me or staring because they suspected I stole something or something like that. I was indeed hiding something....more precious than any other secret I've stored within me. It was for baby's protection.

I set him on my couch and carefully took a soft paper towel that I wet with warm water and gently cleaned him up. I knew he was starving so that meant running to the store and buying baby formula along with some toys, clothes and possibly a portable crib or bassinet. I didn't wanna leave baby here alone, yet it would be irresponsible of me to leave him here so I had to take him with me.

I already decided once I got back I would call the police and see if they could locate his mother or any other relatives of his. My gut told me his mother wouldn't want him back and or she's dead or out of the country doing whatever. I thought about what to do about the small little turquoise eyed baby boy laying on my couch with pillows around him to keep him from falling.

It just dawned on me that you're not supposed to keep a newborn on their backs, so I shifted him to his tummy. Tufts of auburn hair were protruding from his little round head. I couldn't help but bring myself to run my fingers over it. He was still making suckling noises, that snapped me out of my daze and made rush to grab a hat for baby. It was a soft blue hat with little duckies on it, one I had kept when I was a baby. I took baby's blanket and made it into a shaw like coat for him, then I took an old scarf and covered him up so he wouldn't get cold.

I scanned the room for anything I could use besides a dirty old box that was baby's home for the first few days of his life. Just thinking about it was gut-wrenching. I looked over to baby who was still laying on the couch, toying with the pillows set on either side for his safety. His eyes looked so tired and full of innocence. Of course he's innocent he's a baby. He was so vulnerable and helpless that the grisly thought of him not surviving one more day if I hadn't found him nearly killed me.

My eyes finally landed on a dresser drawer in my bedroom. I emptied out the books that were inside on to my bed and tucked inside three soft blankets before putting baby in there. I didn't really want the neighbors seeing me take a dresser drawer out in the hallway as it would draw unnecessary attention, Not that it was any of their business anyway. I meant it when I said I kept to myself. Me and baby flew down the hallway, after I finished locking up my apartment.

My car was parked in the apartment parking lot, next to a grey lexus. I clicked the button on my well used car remote that was swinged in with my car keys, and my apartment key as well along with a little green packers logo. I opened the car door and carefully placed the drawer in the backseat rear facing.

I just prayed it was safe seeing how I didn't have a carseat or anything for baby yet. I made sure his scarf and hat weren't too warm so he wouldn't overheat. Once I was satisfied that he was okay, I climbed into the driver's seat and we drive to the store. Target was the closet place. I parked the car and I gently grabbed baby and we went inside. A sense of happiness and relief washed over me. I would be leaving the store with a baby car seat, a bassinet, high chair and food for baby. And possibly more knowledge too.

Baby was too tiny to fit in the seating area of the shopping cart so that meant I had to carry him, but my arms started getting tired. I grabbed a shopping cart anyway and tried my hardest to balance it with one hand. I found the nearest employee working in the baby section and asked her if I could buy a baby carrier right now. "Of course. I can ring you up and you can continue shopping."

"Thank you so much." I grabbed a sturdy carrier and she scanned the price tag and then my card. "There you go you're all set" I smiled. "Thank you very much." I set baby in the carrier and pulled the veil built into the carrier down to keep any germs off him.

"You're son's adorable." The employee said. I didn't bother to correct her so I just accepted the compliment for what it was and thanked her with a smile. But that stuck with me. Son. The thought ricocheted in my head as a sudden pleasure grew on that title. I looked down at baby who was playing with his fingers. Maybe?

I continued on shopping, grabbing bottles, diapers, clothes, toys and a portable bassinet. I found some baby formula asking different clerks if it was safe for newborns. They all showed me different brands, but like with everyone, the most recommended was the one I chose.

I paid for the items and left the store quickly as possible. The medium colored clouds set in and small sprinkles of rain slowly drizzled down. The smush of the wet fall leaves that stood in between my boots and the rain. Me and baby rushed to the car, now feeling satisfied of the new things he has to help him. Somehow I could sense a feeling of relief and solace wash over the both of us. I looked down to be met with greenish-blue eyes and sweet deep dimples that I just discovered he had.

Ongoers noticed the tender sweet baby talk that was spilling from my lips by the minute. Bunches of "Yes you are's" were being spoken to baby which made him react with joy. I'm sure this was the most love that he's had in the little time of his life so far. Surely I was not his mother, just a 27 year old man who happened, completely by chance noticed a small infant in the dirty box that he laid in. Maybe this was fate? I shook it off not wanting to think to deeply about it.

I was just his temporary caregiver until he would be adopted by someone who could give him a stable home. Maybe even a pet? I imagined little baby playing on the swing set with his doggie running up to him desperately wanting his owner's attention that only the love of a child could provide for them. He would have playdates with the best friend he met at school, sleepovers with the boys on his soccer team, meet his first love and dream of marrying her as if she was the one....

I snapped out that daydream. I couldn't get attached. We both weren't ready for that. Adoption for baby would surely be a dream right? We arrived to the car where I unloaded everything in the trunk before picking baby up and returning the shopping cart to the store.

Man it felt nice to hold him again. Whoops...I mean my arms aren't tired anymore. I set baby aside as I was taking the drawer and moved it to the floor of the car and set up baby's carrier. I gently placed him inside and even gave him one of his little toys to keep him occupied. I couldn't feed him until we got home so there was no time to waste.

As I got in the driver's seat and put the key in, turning it...My mind wandered to what exactly would happen to baby. What if he didn't get a nice family? What if instead he would be raised only for the sole purpose of being a slave in a mean family's home? Or he was restricted from living his life normally due to the strictness and harshness of a mother and father who weren't to tightly wrapped themselves?

What if he was left to fend for himself with no one to love him and care for him? The harsh reality of the world set in the more I thought about baby's fate. But everyone always says two is better than one and baby needs two parents. But if those parents aren't gonna parent him in the right way....then would he really be better off?

Surely I could-

"We're here!" I said to myself trying to override the thought I was going to think that would distract me from my sensible thinking. I carried baby inside, and grabbed the things from the trunk and made my way upstairs to my apartment as fast as I could. A few elderly neighbors saw me and cooed about cute the little baby in my was. I smiled and thanked them before getting in the elevator hoping the doors would close as fast as possible.

Baby and me scurried inside once again just in time for baby to start crying. He was hungry of course. After closing and locking the door, I set him down on the couch, propping the pillows around him again and grabbed the formula from the bag and ran into the kitchen to fix it.

I followed the directions carefully trying the drown out the hungry cries from baby. "I know baby I know." I fixed it as fast as I could and while his bottle was heating up, I was successfully able to distract him.

Beep!

I turned around and flew into the kitchen and grabbed baby's bottle from the microwave. I pressed the bottle to my wrist and sat down next to baby. I gently picked baby up and inserted the bottle into his mouth. "It's not too hot is it?" Aw come on as if baby can talk. His button eyes looked into mine sucking away at his milk. Probably the first food he's had in days. "You're a hungry little guy aren't you? I know, I know. You're a little special baby. You're special because you're the sweetest little thing I've seen." I cooed.

I couldn't help but cloy baby. He was so small and new, bright eyes studying the room because he was so new to the world. I just felt this exquisite connection with him whilst looking into his fresh eyes. His mom didn't know what she was missing....or what she gave up. I smiled a warm smile and somehow I think he sensed the connection too.

I removed the bottle once he was finished. He drank all his milk. "Good boy!" I cooed cheerfully. Burp! I expected that.

I ate a quick dinner that night after baby went to sleep. I couldn't sleep a wink partly because of baby crying and needing his diaper changed or wanting to be rocked or something like that and the other because I was worried about him too. I put him in a fresh onesie and threw that old blue blanket in the wash.

I tossed and turned because I knew I was gonna have to call child services soon....but it just....this gut feeling. I mean he was already used to me so why would I give him up? I guess I used that to reason with myself. Who am I kidding? I'm only in my twenties I can't be raising a child! I have so much I wanna do, like travel and get married and start a family of my own one day. But despite all of those...Baby still played in my mind.

I couldn't be attached already right? And besides who would watch baby too? I have to go to work and run errands and he has to be babysat. I couldn't trust just anyone. All these thoughts raced through my head trying to get everything sorted out. Child services, doctor appointment, babysitter. My brain could've exploded.

But my alarm clock went off. Baby was still sleeping surprisingly so I tiptoed out of my bedroom into the bathroom where I took a quick shower. I would constantly check to see if baby was still sleeping and if I needed to change or feed him. That's pretty much what all babies do at the beginning of their first few months of life, eat, sleep and poop,

I brushed my teeth coming out of the shower and changed into my uniform. I carefully took baby from his bassinet and was going to give him his first bath. By the looks of it I don't even think baby was born in a hospital. His umbilical stub hadn't fallen off yet so I was cautious to how I bathed him. I quickly googled how to do it and got started immediately. Baby was so small that I was able to bathe him in the bathroom sink.

I filled the sink with a little water and used some mild baby soap and cleaned up baby. He seemed so happy to finally be clean and to be...loved. To have someone care enough about him to take him under their wing and care for him....I really hoped he would see it that way when he's older.

Me and baby hadn't eaten breakfast yet and I already had to be at work in 30 minutes so I had no choice but to call Gemma and ask if she could watch him. She'd said that she would be over right away, so that gave me and baby time to eat a small breakfast. I had a bowl of cereal and baby had some milk of course.

Gemma knocked on the door a couple minutes after I had put my bowl in the sink. "Hey gem!" I greeted happily. I was relieved to have some help. "Hey Haz. So where is this little bugger that you've been talking about on the phone?" I pointed over to baby who was in his bassinet. "Oi he's adorable!" Gemma cooed. "What's his name?"

"I just call him baby for now. Yeah he's my friend's nephew but right now his nickname is baby." I thought quickly cause I didn't want to explain the whole situation to Gemma just yet. It's not that I couldn't trust her it's just that....it's not like baby was my son. He was still sorta a strange baby without a home or name. Besides...I had to go to work.

"Thank you again for watching him, if you need to reach me you have my number and I left a list of things you're supposed to do with baby on the fridge. Thanks." I grabbed my coat and car keys. "Bye Gemma and bye baby!" I blew a kiss to both of them before dashing out the front door.

Work wasn't any easier. I kept thinking about baby and Gemma and how they were getting along at my apartment. Plus Mr Feltmen was once again being punctilious with the way I stocked the cereals or the way I put price tags on the sealed chicken dinners with my price gun. All because his wife said a few nasty comments on her way along with a big fat stack of divorce papers sent to him a couple days later.

My lunch break seemed to be relieving as I was able to call Gemma and ask her if her and baby were fine. "Oh yeah we're fine. Baby had a little hard time after you left but everything's okay now. He's taking a nap."

"What little hard time?" I asked kinda panicky. "Oh, he started crying because he wanted you. So when I showed him a picture of you, he calmed down." Sentiment washed over me. Baby wanted me? He missed me. My heart swelled with adoration and pride more than it should've for a baby who I'd only known for a day and half. "Thank you so much Gemma. I'll call you when I'm on my way home."

After I hung up, I searched up a really good pediatric doctor at the children's hospital and scheduled an appointment for baby later on today. I wanted to make sure he had his shots and everything he needed by the time social services came and got him. The thought broke me. I grievance pain struck me so I refused to ponder the thought more than necessary.

Baby really tugged at my heartstrings. I didn't wanna dive in heart first taking into consideration the logicalness of the situation. Was I really baby's best person to care for his every need? You're caring for him now. I swallowed hard at that and continued eating my lunch, not wasting time to get back to work.

The mid day night sky fell between 3 and 4 which is when my shift ended. The breeze sang it's fall time song the coziness of being warm in the cold started to take its toll. I grabbed my coat from the breakroom and hustled out the grocery store. "Have a good night Harry." I turned to my right to see my boss with a small tight smile and giving me a small stiff wave. "Thanks you too." I replied befuddled and tired at the same time.

As soon as I got into my car, I didn't waste time calling Gemma to inform her of my upcoming arrival. "Hey Gemma, I just got off work and I'm coming home right now okay? How is everything?"

I heard the sound of baby rattles and muffled cries that partially answered my question. "Oh everything's fine, baby just woke up from his nap and he's just been a little fussy that's all." I could sense Gemma regretted saying that last part. She realized how attached and concerned I was for baby. Way more than if it was just 'my friend's nephew' the way I said before.

"Okay, well I'll be home very soon." We hung up and then I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot very carefully. The drive home consisted of me trying to beat the clock so I could be on time for baby's doctor appointment. I concluded that one more night wouldn't be so bad for baby seeing how it was possibly too late to call social services anyway.

Was I just reasoning with myself?

Streetlights filled the downtown sidewalk. Oh how I missed late night walks and night drives through my city. Summer's were fun for it too, but it was just something about September, October and November that just had that fall time glow. That coziness of aroma around you. It was fun. Just me walking to and back from the library.

I snapped out of my nostalgia once I pulled up to the parking lot of my apartment.

I put the key through my front door lock and opened the door. "Hey Gem I'm home" Gemma ran up to me and hugged me which I returned. "Hey! How was work?" "Oh it was fine." My eyes glanced to baby sleeping in his bassinet. "How was baby?" Gemma looked to the sleeping newborn and back to me. "He was just fine. He was a little cranky today but above all a good boy."

I thanked Gemma who's coat I handed to her on the way out. "See you later be safe bye." "Bye." Gemma's voice trailed going out the door. I took off my coat before focusing my attention to baby. "Hey baby boy! Did you miss me? Yes you did! I know you did cause you're da-" I stopped myself. "You're a special baby! You're a little sweetheart aren't ya?" Oh how I desperately wanted cover those little rosy dimpled cheeks in hello kissys.

I quickly changed baby and put him into a new outfit before leaving for the doctor's. On the way, I put on the radio to some 90's music. He seemed to enjoy it. His little head bobbed to the infamous Alanis Morissette 'Ironic'. I kept checking the rearview mirror, making sure baby was okay. I was still new to this so I didn't spring for the expensive attachment mirror for baby car seats.

London children's hospital.

I turned to the left and pulled into the parking deck. I always loved the murk lighting of the in between ramps and parking spaces. The blueish sometimes yellow aesthetic lights were the only ray of light inside the closed in building that was usually filled to the brim with cars. I got baby's carrier out of the car with him in it and we traveled down to the entrance along with two other couples who either had babies or toddlers.

On the way, Baby was entranced by the colorful cars while we walked to the doors. A green honda, a blue civic, a sliver chevy, all had the baby's attention. We went inside the elevator and took it up to the offices on level 8. Inside, I just kept taking deep breaths and looked down at baby who was sleeping soundly. I hated knowing I would have to wake him up for his appointment.

I just don't know what would move me to do all this? Buying him clothes, baby formula, toys, bottles, taking him to the doctors? I didn't just take him the adoption agency before and let them do all this for him. I guess because I care too much...I care so much about other people and I don't regret it of course, but this time it really took me out of the way. Financially, Physically and Emotionally.

I looked down at baby who was still sleeping. I guess what I'm trying to comprehend is that baby is special, he's more than just some lost, injured puppy dog on the street...he was more than helping out a homeless person with a couple dollars, he was more than giving a tired sad stranger a smile. It was a deeper pleasure having baby.. it was.....it....

Three little words threatened to spill from my gut but I shut them out. After all he won't be with me long.

The sad realization grappled me. Ding! The elevator doors opened and I was instantly met with distance cries of babies and toddlers. The hall was empty and as I stepped out, I could breathe in the sterile air. The carpeted floor held rigid against my shoes as I walked down the corridor trying to find the Doctor Evan's office.

My hand weighed heavy as I held the carrier that was carrying a baby who was now wide awake and hungry. His little fussy whines made me rush inside so I could feed him before those little whimpers turned into blood curdling screams. "Hello." I said waiting for the receptionist to notice me. "Hi." she smiled. It was a young girl that looked to be in 20's. The first thing I noticed was her red bob and bright pink lipstick. Her earrings were the exact same ones my own mother had.

"You have an appointment?" I nodded before responding with a yes. "For?" Her voice trailed once she saw the name I confirmed for baby. "Baby styles." It sounded like I was posting an announcement on my instagram to welcome my new child. But nonetheless was his actual name as of now. "It's a nickname we always go by." As if that would make it all normal. The state didn't even know he existed until now so what was I to do. The receptionist smiled and gave me a clipboard with the patient fill out attached to it.

I thanked her before taking it and moving over to one of the seats in the back. Before I filled it out, I took a bottle of the baby bag and fed baby quickly. He's a fast eater so it wasn't too laborious. But after burping him and putting him back in his carrier, I filled out the form and gave it back to the receptionist. I sat back down and monitored baby. I took little peeks at him in between to make sure he was okay.

Time passed slowly it seemed. 4:25 went to 5:21 then to 5:36. Time went on like that even though we were only there for 25 minutes. "Baby styles?" Everyone in the waiting room looked up at that name which made me more self aware. I quickly picked up the carrier and the baby bag before walking over to the nurse who was holding the door open for the patient to enter.

"Hello..Mr styles?" I nodded. "Come follow me please." We went to a room that was yellow and decorated in Curious George stickers. I set the carrier on the chair next to me before taking baby out and putting him on the exam table that was specifically for babies. The nurse took his height and weight before writing them down. I noticed her eyebrows furrowed. She wanted to comment and ask if he was a was a preemie but she left that part up for the doctor.

She took his blood pressure and typed some things down on the computer. "You said he's newborn correct?" "Yes." I held my breathe. "He was born when?" "I think 5 or 4 days ago?" She continued typing.

"Okay. He is due for his hepatitis B, diphtheria, tetanus, pertussis and polio shots today." "Okay." "The doctor will be in shortly." The nurse smiled and left the chart on the outside of the door. I went over to baby and tickled his tummy a little. He giggled and started smiling. "Oh you're just a special little guy aren't you?" I cooed.

The doctor came in and I took my seat again. "Hi I'm Dr. Evan" she said holding out a hand for me to shake which I did. "And hello to you too handsome!" She said cooing to baby and shaking his hand as well. "You're here with daddy today?" My eyes traveled down. I knew I was gonna have to tell her. "Uh, Baby here is...well...I found him yesterday abandoned by the back of a school and so I took him in and I just brought him here today to make sure he was fine. That's why his name's baby and why he's a little underweight for a newborn."

The doctor took it all in before giving me a smile. "That's very commendable of you Mr. Styles. You did more for him than anyone else could've." I was proud of that statement. "Thank you. I wish he was my son though." I just said that?

She giggled. "I know it's very easy to get attached." I agreed. "it is." She took out her stethoscope and listened to baby's heart. "Very good." Then she listened to his stomach. "Very good."

"Mr styles, considering your case with baby right now, would you like to take him home today or did you wanna leave him here? I have to ask because you know..." I nodded. "Take him home." Dr Evan nodded and wrote something down. "We'll have to report this to the police and call children services. It's mandatory. But if you were to be interested in fostering or adopting baby then you can provide a word to a agency worker or lawyer. I'll put in a good word if you need it." She winked. That made me hopeful.

She continued the exam and asked me all the questions I could answer like when he eats, and sleeps and if he was fussy or calm most of them time. "I'll be right back with the vaccinations. I have to say Mr styles, when I listened to baby's heart, lungs and stomach....I don't think he would've made it another day if it weren't for you." She smiled. "Thank you!" I graciously said. Tears welled up in my eyes thinking about the actions of mine that save baby's life.

I looked over to baby who was examining the room carefully. Almost with detail as he became fascinated with the curious George stickers. "Yeah, he's funny isn't he?" I cooed. The nurse came back in with 5 shots on a small light pink tray. "Okay Mr styles, could you hold baby's arms please?" I gently intertwined baby's hands with mine. "Okay here comes the first one." Said the nurse after wiping down his thighs with alcohol wipes.

In went one needle followed by a loud cry from baby. My heart broke but i knew that this was the best thing for the vulnerable newborn. "I know baby boy but we gotta do this so you can be healthy." I said sweetly. I couldn't resist pressing sweet big kisses to his chubby cheeks.

That soothed him for a while until the last injection was given. A shriek was released from baby's small toothless mouth and fought back tears. It was painful enough to hear a baby cry, but when that baby.... felt like your own, it hit differently.

After all was done, I scooped him in my arms and hugged him tight. "Shhhh it's all over now." I rubbed his back desperately trying to soothe the little guy's cries. "I'm here for you, it's okay daddy's got you."

What?

I bit my tongue. I didn't mean that, I'm not daddy. It's just Harry or Mr styles.

Maybe not daddy yet. Oh shut up you always think sporadic!

I cleared my throat before setting baby back down in the table. I grabbed the baby bag and my jacket before settling baby in his carrier and then leaving.

"Would you like to make an appointment?" The receptionist asked. "Uh, not right now but I'll call later on." She nodded but I could tell she thought it was strange, I was strange I should say.

We left the office, heading back to the same elevator we came before. We went down to the parking deck and sudden ding! Snapped me out of my thoughts. The elevator doors opened to a mother pushing her disabled son in a wheelchair. I gave a polite smile which she returned.

She didn't think of me as a stranger to the baby I was holding in the carrier. I don't know why but I didn't feel like a stranger either to baby. He didn't feel strange to me despite me only knowing him for two days. I went back to my car with a heavy heart.

"We'll have to notify the police and children services because it's mandatory."

Those words ate at me. I didn't want them coming into my apartment and taking baby away from me.

I loved him.

Yes. I did! From the moment I met him I just couldn't let him go like that. He needed me, I was brought to him and I truly saw him as a priceless gift. Not something you have to pay for to raise. It was here I made a very crucial decision with baby. I was to adopt him.

The next day, children services came by along with the police. I let them in and asked them to take a seat. I brought baby out and set him down in his playpen.

"Thank you very much for welcoming us to your home first off. It has been brought to our attention that you found baby abandoned behind a school and so you took him in and cared for him right?" I nodded. The social worker wrote something down. "You took him to the doctor yesterday for a checkup and you reported your case to Dr Evan?"

"Yes." She wrote something down again. "I'm gonna ask you a few questions is that okay?" I agreed and we started. "Are you interested in adopting baby?" "Of course." "Are you in any relation or do you know any relatives of baby?" I shook my head. "No."

"Anyone in you're house that has criminal activity?" "Nope, it's just me and I've never been to jail or prison."

The social worker wrote something down and smiled. "Well you seem like a good candidate Mr styles. We'll have to take baby now but you still have a chance to adopt him. If you want baby specifically, then you can contact Sunnyside adoption center where baby will be taken and you can call and they'll give you an application and once you complete it and send it back, they'll schedule a meeting with you. The rest of the information is online at Sunnyside adoption center.com."

"Thank you very much." My eyes went to baby who was in his playpen. "Can I say goodbye first?" The social worker nodded and I picked baby up and held him.

"Okay baby this is the end now. I never got to name you or have you for that long but....I still treasure this time I spent with you. I'll try my best to have you again but if I can't..... I'll always love you. You'll always be my baby." His turquoise eyes looked into mine, his soft head with mini bald spots rested against my hand. I kissed his face one last time before giving him away to the social worker.

She smiled along with the two police officers. "Baby is very fortunate. I don't think he would've made it without your love." "Thank you." I said sheepishly. The trio left my apartment and I closed the door after them. I sat on my couch, scanning the room as if you say what just happened?.

Baby's bottle, his crib and clothes lied around the bedroom. Almost like a tornado had came and scattered everything around. I picked up one of his bottles and just... just broke down.

I've never loved anyone as hard or as much as I did baby. All I could see was those sweet little eyes and soft little fine hair. He was a quiet baby who rarely cried unless he wanted something or something was bothering him. Tears dropped on the floor and then on my jeans leaving wet splotches.

Baby. That was all that played on my mind. But it wasn't too late. I was determined to get baby back and adopt him.....no matter how long it took.

#harry styles #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles imagine #harry styles son #single dad harry #son #adoption #baby #adoptive family #adoptive harry!

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pxtitxrosx · 8 months

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For each of the following items, indicate whether you think it's morally okay or not.

An army lieutenant neglects to file a report on a civilian killing done by his troops because he knows it was an accident. Not okay, but I'm sympathetic.

Tina promises her dying mother that she'll visit her grave once a month. After the mother has passed away, Tina finds it hard to squeeze in the time, and her visits drop to about once a year. Completely understandable. Life happens. It's okay.

A man orders a custom-built sex doll designed to look just like his neighbor. SO not okay, and incredibly creepy. Talk about heebie jeebies.

Sarah's dog has four puppies. She can only find a home for two of them, so she kills the other two with a stone to the head. NOT OKAY! There are shelters for a reason! Poor puppies =(

A doctor has been preforming consensual yet illegal procedures one someone in hopes of finding a cure for his ill sister. Okay. As long as it's consensual, you can't fault someone for trying to help their family.

A neglectful husband pushes his wife to an affair. When the affair ends, the wife's partner nearly kills her and her unborn daughter. The husband kills the affair partner. Neither okay or okay. Murder is wrong. But protecting your loved ones is not.

September has run out of food and is facing death by starvation. She begins to cannibalize her family's loyal staff. They do not fight back. THIS IS THE FUNNIEST QUESTION! LOL not okay but SUPER funny!

A mother gives birth to identical twins. One follows their ambitions and the other becomes a shut in. The family make it clear which child they prefer. It's not okay. Hopefully at least someone in the family is still close with the other sibling.

Natalie is so focused on survival she fires a shot without thinking. She did not intend to kill her elderly neighbor, but she hides the body regardless. She denies knowing what happened to the now missing resident. Not okay! Someone is definitely missing them! I couldn't live with myself.

A woman is facing a lifetime of medical issues. She continues to put her family and those around her in emotional and medical debt. She lives a hollow life and continues leaching off of those who support her. Poor girl. It's neither okay nor not okay. It's a terrible, horrible, situation. I can't imagine her guilt.

Please provide a response to each of the following prompts. Leaving a prompt blank will also be considered a response, and you will be assessed for refusal to answer.

In the event of a life or death situation, would you put yourself or others first? Never. What's best for the group is best for the individuals in the group.

How far would you be willing to go to ensure your own survival throughout this ordeal? I don't think I could kill anyone. Or eat anyone.

Is there anyone in the building you have developed strong attachments to? So many people. I've lived here my entire life, I serve most of the people here their coffee every morning since I was in High School. The people in this building are my family.

Do you think it is possible to survive infection through alternative means such as removing the infected limb? Would you be willing to undergo this procedure to ensure your own survival? I don't know anything about medical stuff. If it was between life and death... I guess I would have to. I never ever want to be one of those things.

Will following the general consensus lead to improved odds of survival, or would you have a better chance following an assigned leader? Both. I think there are benefits to having an assigned leader, who also takes into consideration the voices of the general consensus. A deciding voice when the group can't come to one themselves.

What is the appropriate response to the following situation?

Your daughter falls ill and needs a specific, uncommon kind of antibiotic that will be hard to find; without the full course, the pathogen will survive, regroup, and kill her anyway. You are scavenging a pharmacy, where you find another group, and manage to not shoot each other. You ask them about the antibiotic, and they have it, but they also need the antibiotic, for the wife of someone in their group. You cannot share the antibiotic because it would just kill both people, and they have the antibiotic in their pack. This is likely the only complete dose set you will find, as the other stores have been picked totally clean and there are no friendly groups in the area. It's a no win situation. You either spare the wife and kill your child, or kill the wife and spare your child. I couldn't let my child die, but I also couldn't kill someone to get the antibiotic. I could try and barter for it somehow. I don't know. I don't know what I would do.

#Task 02

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ardyn-the-dunmer · 2 years

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A List of Gameplay Build Ideas for Lazy Players

Drem Yol Lok.

Are you an avid Elder Scrolls player who has played through almost all of the main games and almost all of the builds that it has to offer? Are you not ready to give up these games because TES has regulated your unstable moods since you were a child and letting go means resorting to healthier, yet more expensive options, like therapy? Well you're in luck! Here is a list of Unique builds you can try to spice up your game.

Arsonist Assassin- Assassin builds are fun to play as. You level up your sneak, you go behind a bad guy, then you stab them... then you do the same with the next one. It gets boring after a while, huh? Well that is 1000% ok. There are other ways you can serve the Night Mother. Loudly. Fire Magic, Fire enchantments, sneak, and choosing the most insane/violent options can help spice your game up. (Chaotic Evil)

Daedric Scholar- Create a lavish library at Lakeview manor, and fill them to the brim with tales of those who didn't join Lorkhan in his creation of Nirn. Use only Daedric weapons, and specialize in conjuration. Depending on which of the mysterious deities you decide to focus your study on revolve your combat and playthrough style on them. If you're into Sanguine, incorporate alcohol and skooma into your playthrough. Mehrunes Dagon, destruction. Molag Bal, vampirism. Nocturnal, sneaking. Namira, poison spells. And so on. (Alignment is based off of which Daedric Lord you choose)

Nymph - Take on a nature worship based playthrough. Wear either light armor or clothing. Avoid killing natural creatures unless pushed to do so. Invest in Illusion to help calm or fiercen the herd. Depending on the race of your character, become a worshipper of a deity that honors nature (Kynareth/Kyne, Hircine, The All-Maker, Y'ffre). Become a werewolf and protect the forests from poachers. (Lawful Good/Chaotic good, depending on how you play)

The Useless Noble- Don't do anything. Literally. Invest in the most beautiful clothing and armors and houses, collect loyal followers (using a mod that will allow multiple followers), invest in conjuration, persuation, and restoration. If you come across a threat, send your body guards and summoned creatures to deal with it. (This is very hard considering there are some places, like Skuldafn, that wont allow non-summoned followers, and it will take a while, but trust in your own imagination and it'll be fun). Don't even open doors for youself. Ask your followers to retrieve things for you or stand in certain places. (Lawful)

Sheogorath's Curse- This is something you can add into any evil-aligned playthrough. You have a nagging desire to kill. One you have been trying to keep at bay for years, but every single time you see someone it becomes excruciating. Everytime you enter a town, city, or village, you have to kill someone at night and get away with it. Invest in mods that add more nonessential NPCs to the game so you won't run out of people to kill/miss out on good quests. (Chaotic Evil)

Beastmaster- Similar to the Nymph, but a bit more fun. Adopt a dog follower, master illusion and conjuration. Become a werewolf. Control other creatures and become Nature's master. You see nature's creatures as more of a tool, whereas Nymphs see them as a creation. (Neutral)

Play As You- I never really thought to play as myself in a game until I was like "...I wonder how I would respond to every situation in Fallout 4." Now its fun. Base literally everything off of you and what you would pick. Are you good at lifting heavy things? Become a two handed wielder. Do you like going down internet rabbit holes at 4 am to fill the gaping hole in your sole? Become a devotee of Hermaeus Mora. Do you like not getting bitches? Become a sneak archer! (I'm joking.)

»»————-　➴　————-««

Ardynias The Adventurer

#skyrim #the elder scrolls memes #the elder scrolls #oblivion #tes #the elder scrolls oblivion #the elder scrolls daggerfall #the elder scrolls skyrim #the elder scrolls v skyrim #the elder scrolls III morrowind #morrowind #chaotic good #chaotic evil #chaotic neutral #trans gamer #this is mostly related to skyrim and oblivion #if you do this in morrowind or daggerfall #stay 10000000 feet away from me #you are not human

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renneiscent · 2 years

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You Are All That Matters

Chapters: 5/?

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

I don’t like—I never like this kind of situation. This kind of situation when Jake and I have arguments, it feels like the situation is going to be more tense and stressful. I would never want to disappoint him or even break the promise that I have made; going to Duskwood. But this is different case.

JAKE: MC.

JAKE: We must talk about Michael’s demand.

MC: Well then, let’s talk

JAKE: Well. I can only see one plausible explanation for Michael’s demand.

JAKE: He wants to somehow complete his plan in this way.

JAKE: But I have no clue what your role is in all of this.

Until now, I also have no idea what kind of role I’m playing in this case at all. I never knew Hannah and somehow, among every human in this world, she sent my number. Is it coincidence?

MC: He told me about the Ironsplinter Mine of his own accord, Jake

MC: It’s kind of crazy but I think he trusts me

JAKE: At least that is what he wants you to believe.

MC: Michael said nobody would get hurt

JAKE: I do not think you can believe him.

MC: As you can read, the others expect me to go..

JAKE: No, MC.

JAKE: Nobody could expect such a huge sacrifice from you.

JAKE: Thomas may have got carried away by the current events.

JAKE: And I think he is not aware of the consequences this decision would encompass.

Nobody could expect such a huge sacrifice from you, he said. But you asked me to walk with you, in this dangerous path, until the end. I know what I’m about to say next will break our promise, will hurt his heart. But I already made my decision. It looks like this is the role that only made for me.

MC: I’m sorry to not talk about this with you earlier but I’ve made my decision already

MC: I’m going to Duskwood

JAKE: MC.

JAKE: Please listen to me.

JAKE: I cannot say why Michael has made this offer all of a sudden.

JAKE: But I can say with certainty that is merely a trap.

MC: And what if I can really end it all?

JAKE: You will not.

JAKE: I can understand that you want to help Hannah and Richy.

JAKE: But this is not the right way.

Then what is the right way, Jake? The only police we trust didn’t do the job really well. The group is having their own difficulty to leave the hut since the cars tampered. And I.. I can’t risk your safety, not when you are playing cat and mouse with your pursuers. I bite inside of my cheeks, trying to hold myself for not sobbing hard. After all, I’m still in the airport. Even if there are not many people here right now, but I don’t want people pity about me because there is this crazy young lady sitting with so much tears in her eyes. It’s just like cliché scene on those stupid romantic movies when the truth right now there is not romance here at all.

I’m looking up as I try to suck in all of my tears and sniffle, I wipe my cheeks which is really wet because of my tears with my jacket sleeve.

MC: He turned to me

MC: That has to mean something

MC: I’ll get them both back

MC: I can do it!

JAKE: I cannot allow you to put yourself in danger.

He said it again. He said the same words like when I suggested talking with Alan. The words that stab my heart so deep and it feels like my world will collapse because how he always protect me but I disappoint him.

MC: Jake..

MC: We have to see this as an opportunity!

MC: This nightmare will finally come to an end

And you will finally get Hannah back, your family will finally complete. And Jessy, she will meet Richy back, also Thomas who pushed me so hard to meet Michael’s demand and the rest of the group really. And no one fall more tears, no one will lose hope anymore. I really want to say that but my fingers are not strong enough to type and tell him even more. Somehow, I’m not that brave to let it out those unsaid things.

JAKE: It is far too risky!

JAKE: There is no way Michael will keep his word.

Even though I have courage to meet Michael, but to be completely honest, inside me, I’m scared as hell. I really want to turn my back and leave all of this. You probably hate me because it feels like I’m having two-face right now but.. some part of me wishing for running away from this mess, some of it wishing Jake will come and rescue me, some part of me wishing Jake will be there to help if anything happens. But the majority that take control over myself right now is the part that is scared to have responsibility over someone’s death, scared to be haunted with this long nightmare. It’s like what Hannah and Amy’s feeling toward Jennifer; the guilt that haunts the rest of their lives.

MC: You always said I’d become important

JAKE: You always have been.

MC: You asked me to take this path with you until the end

MC: Today I’m the one asking you to do the same

MC: Please don’t make this hard than it already is

JAKE: I

JAKE: I can’t lose you.

JAKE: You’re all

JAKE: All that matters.

I’m hugging my knees after reading the message Jake have sent, letting myself to quietly sobbing. He said I’m all that matters, he said he can’t lose me. I know both of us have mutual feelings toward each other, even though we never say some direct things like ‘I love you’ or stuff, but I realised we deeply care about each other. And after Lilly’s video incident, Jake is showing his feeling more than before toward me. But tonight, his message still surprises me. Those words send some stings toward my chest, I have no clue how and I have no clue why but it hurts more than ever.

MC: I’m sorry..

MC IS NOW OFFLINE

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #jake x mc

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blue-revenant · 6 months

Text

I have fibromyalgia and a lot of people think it’s a fake illness or that isn’t that bad. The truth is, it affects my life on a daily basis. You see, fibromyalgia causes a lot of issues but it’s mainly widespread pain and intense fatigue:

All of these symptoms make it hard to do even the simplest tasks. While the disease can be helped by medication, it will never go away and goes through cycles of feeling better and having a flare up. Here are some examples of what may cause a fibromyalgia flare up:

And for those of you who aren’t sure what causes the pain with fibromyalgia, here’s a brief explanation:

And these are the risk factors:

Unfortunately, mine was caused by emotional trauma in the form of abuse and my main trigger for a flare up is stress. This long explanation is leading to my current flare up. It was caused by verbal and mental abuse at work (I’m looking for a new job but not having much luck yet). Before anyone says anything, I did try to get out of the situation. I asked to be moved to a different team and I also requested my role be changed (I voluntarily asked to be demoted) but both requests went ignored.

The team I work with takes advantage of my tendency to want to help by expecting me to do everything for them. If I tell them they need to do it themselves because it’s part of THEIR job, they go over my head, and complain to the manager who then tells me I need to do what they’re asking. They also make rude comments about me in our team chat and in team meetings. I’ve talked to the manager about this, but again, it gets ignored. This past week was really rough. I ended up crying twice last week and then developed a migraine that lasted 3 days. (Oh! Migraines are also another lovely gift from fibromyalgia). Let me just say, I don’t normally cry. I usually get angry and frustrated but I rarely cry. However, I felt so (I hate this word because it’s overused) attacked and there seemed to be no reason for it other than I expected them to do their job. After the second incident, I had this epiphany that the abuse I was experiencing was exactly like the kind of abuse I escaped from over 2 years ago.

This realization made me break down and sob. I’ve worked so hard to build myself back up after the abuse I’d endured for decades at the hands of a relative and I was doing better. I was feeling stronger and solid and more confident, so to realize I’m right back where I was…it broke me.

How did this happen? I thought I wasn’t allowing people to push me or bully me anymore but here I am, being bullied and attacked at work. People will say it’s just because they’re jealous or insecure or intimidated, but when they tear me down and tell people I’m an idiot and don’t know what I’m doing, it’s hard not to feel like maybe they’re right.

This past week actually triggered the PTSD I have from my past abuse which also triggered a flare up of my fibromyalgia. I woke up this morning feeling like I’d been hit by a truck and then drug behind it for miles. I have no energy, it’s hurts to stand for long periods of time because the muscles in my thighs feel like they’re burning and I feel like a failure. I haven’t showered in days, I haven’t cleaned and I haven’t even put up my Christmas tree. I feel like I’m on the verge of tears for no reason and I have no desire to do anything I usually enjoy.

I’m trying to get myself out of this situation with work for my own health, physical and mental, but I haven’t had much luck. I don’t know what else to do to keep these people I work with off my back. I don’t know how to find a better job with decent, caring people. Is this the world now? People who don’t give a fuck about how they treat others. Am I doomed to keep encountering people like this who take pleasure in tearing others down to build themselves up? If so, how the hell do I keep them from affecting me to protect my mental health?

I will say, I’ve shut myself down when it comes to work. I no longer care about keeping my manager happy or helping my teammates. They don’t care about how they treat me, so I’m not going to care about what they need from me. At this point, they can all go to hell and fuck themselves.

Now, I pray I find a better job with caring individuals who want peace at work. Let’s face it, work is stressful enough without having to deal with jerks.

#fibromyalgia #fibro problems #trauma #mental health #complex ptsd #fibro flare #emotional abuse #narcissistic abuse #abuse survivor #abuse mention

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diary-of-someone-invisible · 1 year

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27th January 11:18am

I am now wondering if moving countries was a terrible decision. I haven't slept in 24 hours so bear with me. I know I'm romanticizing my old life too much. I know it was a different kind of hell but it was also a protected hell. I know I fundamentally changed as a person on 22nd September '22. The first time I had a psychedelic. I have been a different person ever since and can't really say for better or worse. To be honest, it feels like worse. It feels like the evil part of me just took over. I lost all my impulse control. I have been getting into riskier situations. I have been encouraging myself to get worse. I will not claim that I don't like it. I certainly love it. It has been everything I've dreamt of. But my dreams were formed in wrong situation. These dreams were formed when I needed a strong escape mechanism. I don't think I need them anymore. I'm in a headspace where I am very prone to impulsively delete myself. It takes a lot in me to stay because I know people do care about me and my death would affect people. I am fighting really hard to stay here. At moments where I want to die, it becomes really difficult to convince myself to care for the people that I matter to. When I'm back to somewhat normal, it brings on so much guilt. But this isn't the point. The point is, if I didn't move here, I would be stuck in a situation where I was pretty much soul dead. I know I have made some progress related to finding who I am and what do I actually like but it is still pretty fickle. It's a lot of work. I barely want to get out of bed. I feel extremely alone. Like I know I have people a phone call away but also, I would like to meet people in person more. The amount of time I spend alone is extremely too much. It is an overload and I can not seem to take it well. But also, the past wasn't significantly better. It did push me to extremes where I felt drugs were the only proper escape I could have. That is a whole thing I need to rethink. I've finally reached a point in my life where I've spent months being constantly high. Mostly on caffeine and nicotine. Some might say overdose level high. But yeah, my mind is finally starting to fight back. It has had enough. Maybe I'll start forming a new personality from all that I've learnt in the past few months. At least I am not soul dead like I was from 2020. At least I have found myself. Breaking myself out of that frozen mode has been hectic. It has been her acting out violently. Maybe we'll find truce. So that way, I have to admit, moving here was great but finally trying out weed and psychedelics wasn't. But that had a positive effect too. Or do I just want to believe that it did? I was in a well protected bubble before it. A bubble free from addictions. At least I don't drink any more. Weed is highly under control as well. I am able to resist most of my urges. I am not physically addicted to weed but I am psychologically addicted to it. Which doesn't bode well when I don't say no to anything I want. But I would still live in a scared bubble if I didn't try psychedelics. It broke me out and gave it complete freedom. That isn't nice.

It all simmers down to would you rather be current you or the early 2022 you?

I want to be the current me without addictions. Without the damn urges. And that is something I can work on.

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

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hollyhomburg · 3 years

Text

Before I leave You (Part 2)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: On the worst days, Yoongi is judge, jury, and executioner. But he judges you and finds you worthy of protecting (and loving too).

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Dead bodies, blood, murder/crime themes, guilt, childhood trauma, drugs (cocaine, heroine), domestic abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, controlling behavior, implications of omega mistreatment/discrimination, anorexia, blood, graphic depictions of violence, manipulation, morally gray Yoongi, graphic (dreamed) death scenes

W/c: 16.0k

A/n: ahhhh somehow this part gave me a lot of trouble and i just feel like i can’t get it the way i want it T-T it’s so long holy fuck, it’s hard to believe that before editing this was only 4k words. i hope you like this chapter! im upset with myself for how long this is

Previous part — Masterlist

Part 2: The Don

Maybe this is the better time to tell you how Yoongi found you- and why he left in the first place. Like with most good tragedies, this story starts with a death and a secret.

While betas are valued mostly for their level heads- they’re also more valued as secret keepers. Yoongi is probably the best secret keeper in the whole state- maybe the whole country even. Most of the time- he keeps his family's secret so well that he doesn’t even let himself think about them.

Yes, his blood family. Not his found family. I get that it’s confusing, but ‘blood family’ couldn’t be more accurate when it came to talking about the people that Yoongi was actually related to. They're the ones that painted Yoongi’s hands with blood like they were painting the mona lisa, when he was barely old enough to drive a car, let alone learn how to be a murderer and get away with it. You're one of us now- no escaping it. Down to the marrow in your bones Min Yoongi- You are one of us.

Being a beta born into a mafia family is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand- Yoongi was expected to have little hand in most of the violence. Tradition said that the betas shouldn’t sully their hands with blood and gunpowder on the daily, doing the dirty work only when the situation called for it. A special touch- a unique ruthlessness.

On the worst days, Yoongi is judge, jury, and executioner.

He’d grown up outside of the normal hierarchy that was inflicted on the rest of his siblings and cousins, immune from the constant warring families and jostling for power, Left to his own devices through childhood and most of his adulthood. It didn’t matter which family was really his- because Yoongi would serve the greater interests of the pack.

That didn't mean he hadn't seen everything; the peoples whose lives they'd ruined with drugs. Rich socialites, and college kids alike turned to wraiths in months by his family's heroine. The prostitutes that looked at Yoongi’s father like he was their next meal ticket.

Yoongi was 13 when he first touched a dead body, and he remembers the vile of it. He’d thrown up afterwards pushed by the realization that one day- he’d be still and rotting like that.

The other mobsters had laughed at his squeamishness as if he’d made some sort of childish joke. His father petting down his hair like he was just some little kid who had the flu. "It’s okay, he'll get used to it in time" if anything, this was something to laugh about- look at the kid and his squeamishness, he'll get a handle it on it soon- you know how you were at that age.

It was then that Yoongi realized that he wasn’t like them. He’d never get used to this and never find it something to revel in. He'd either find a way to bring it all down, or he'd leave, and never come back as soon as he was able. Foolish dreams, you can't wish the bad blood out of your veins and off of your hands no matter how hard you try.

Blood is blood, no matter who it’s in or what it’s on.

Having him on a job was considered both an honor and a threat. Because if the beta was checking that your operation was up to board then only the mafia Don had put him to the task. Even though Yoongi’s position has been decided for him- that doesn’t mean he’s exactly immune from the more political aspects of his birthright.

Favors and kind words are a currency he traffics in, more than drugs or money or ghost guns. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to drop the shipment off, I’m sure you’re sympathetic, our baby beta- you’re growing up so well your mother must be so proud. She knows how stressful it is- having so many pups at once. Make sure you take a gram for yourself.” and that’s how Yoongi would end up trekking kilos of cocaine across the city as a teenager.

Yoongi’s sub-gender was a tremendous advantage on the more difficult jobs. How many times had he been the getaway driver during a murder? Death sitting in the backseat of his car and yoongi in the driver's seat, a body in the trunk, stopped by the police. The officers always straighten up when they see Yoongi, his scent hitting them and making them flinch. “I’m sorry officers, but I’m really in a hurry, you don’t really need my license and registration do you?”

And of course they’d always replied with “We’re sorry to bother you, have a nice night sir.” He’d been sir since the first second he’d started to lose his baby face.

You just didn’t interfere with the business of a beta, even if that business was murder, racketeering, prostitution, drugs, and illegal firearms among a dozen other institutions that the mafia was involved in.

What had once been more than a dozen different organized crime families with decades of war between them had joined nearly three generations ago as one united front. They’re unstoppable and more organized than the local government to be perfectly honest. There is no larger organization on this side of the country. Only Yoongi’s crime family, all others that begin to sprout like weeds get firmly squashed under their heal once they reach a certain size.

Now that he lives away, Yoongi’s only job is to settle internal disputes. Like which out of two twins would inherit a father’s title, spats between the families, and slights dealt that required mending for the good of the organization. He’s far enough away that he rarely has to actually commit a crime. He’s gotten used to the calls at all hours of the day, encrypted conversations that he can’t avoid.

Leaving has been a source of contention ever since he left, after his parent's death when he just couldn't handle being surrounded by death anymore. They’d died suddenly, and Yoongi doesn't even really remember the last time he saw them. It had been a regular morning that had passed as thousands of others had, unremarkable except for the fact that it was last time he would see them alive.

Yoongi’s always had a sensitive heart, and rest of the family just thought he was dealing with the grief of losing his parents when he ran away. They thought it was that- and not a dedication of his soul and a rejection of what they wanted to make of him. Yoongi wouldn’t let himself become a monster.

There are maybe two dozen Min’s left. And as the holder of the successive beta, they’re awarded more power than the other families, that and the fact that the don was also the child of a min, gave them a near controlling interest in the business of the pack.

Without his parents, Yoongi’s older brother had been put in charge, 23 and ready to prove himself just as much of a ruthless leader as Yoongi’s father had been. His older brother might have flourished under the new title of head of house, but Yoongi felt like he was drowning without his parents. Without his mother to remind him of what it was like to live and not just survive- Yoongi felt like he was dying.

His upbringing had made Yoongi leader, and had made Geumjae, his older brother, a killer.

While Yoongi had grown up with the safety of his sub-gender to shield him from the worst parts of mafia life, Geumjae had not had the same luxury. Pulled into backroom deals and showed the finer points of torture at an age young enough to be proper and polite about it (And to not alert the federal government or the police.)

One of Yoongi’s cousins had tried to go to the FBI after being grounded before- a foolish reaction to not being allowed to go out with his friends. A stupid child- but the family hadn’t seen that- no- the family had left barely a thimbleful of him left for his parents who had barely even cried for their son. There is no room for moles or dissent in their family. You’re either with them and alive or against them and dead.

Geumjae had found the bloodshed something to reveal it- something to love just as much as Yoongi had found love in those 6 souls across the country. Geumjae had only blood and money to pad the inside of his heart.

It feels weird to think that he doesn’t know his own brother. But they haven’t even seen each other in the nearly ten years since their parents died and Geumjae took his father's spot as the head of household.

It had been easy to leave him behind, they’d never been close and Geumjae hadn’t tried to stop him when Yoongi had put what little money they had in the house in a bag and run. He’d made it 4 months with no contact; foolishly, he'd assumed that they just didn't know where he was until one of his uncles had turned up at his shitty apartment. A cell phone held out to him and his grandfather- the Don- On the other end of the line. Who’d lost his patience with the youth at last.

It helped that he wasn’t the only beta in the pack and the only one to bear the brunt of the decision-making. The other beta kept themselves firmly in the pocket of the Don, rarely every more than a few feet away from him. That was Yoongi’s fate, shackled to whoever had the position next. Though their partnership has more to do with love than any sort of business agreement.

Yoongi’s grandfather was a sweet man despite his title and the thousands of deaths he’d build his empire upon. Yoongi’s proximity to what was dubbed as the royal pair, was a lucky thing- they’d mentored him for years to prepare him for his eventual job. All of this, the murder and the secrets- was all an internship essentially. He needed to know how every faction of the family worked in order to make sure it ran smoothly in the future. Connections he built now would serve him years down the line.

They’d both been soft on him, With no children on their own, Yoongi bore the brunt of what parental urges they had. If he’d been anyone else, they would have sent an assassin to drag him back in a body bag, but they hadn’t. “As long as you come back Yoongi- none of us care, I know you’re a good kid. You know what’s expected of you.”

The same uncle had helped set up a secure phone line at the coffee shop, and a few months later a statuesque omega had started working there and that was that. Yoongi's distance from the family was conditional at best but tense at worse. And Essencial once Seokjin worked his way into Yoongi’s life, like a delicately cultivated flower.

He missed a call once, and the gang sent someone to make sure he was alright. Yoongi had narrowly avoided leading them straight back to his and Jin’s apartment. They probably know who Seokjin is. It would be stupid of them not too keep tabs on their beta and whom he was shacking up with.

But that didn’t mean Yoongi could explain why an alpha with as many tattoos as scars was knocking on their door at three in the afternoon. It had taken a few hours to convince one of the mobster that he was alright. Hours in which Seokjin had called, his texts getting increasingly more worried. Yoongi had put his phone on silent.

They can’t know- no one can know where most of Yoongi’s money comes from. He was fine living just paycheck-to-paycheck before Seokjin. But once the pack started growing, Yoongi took on more and more responsibilities as a moderator just to provide for them.

His goals has changed over the years; tearing down the gang was a stupid childish dream, as impossible as it was suicidal. He knows they'd kill him in a second if he so much as walked into a police station. It’s Better to operate from within and try to lessen their damage. If Yoongi can save a few lives, that’s better than losing his own life and letting the system continue unchecked over his dead body.

It makes him feel better about taking money from his family (Though that money was only given to him with expectations attached to it). He gets a monthly stipend that fluctuates, his cut of their profits. Sometimes it’s a little more than a few hundred and other times thousands more than they could use. The blood money gets hidden away in a bank account that only he can access, that he uses here and there whenever they really needed it.

Like when Seokjin’s car broke down and they needed to buy a new one. Or when Taehyung had needed to get a new computer for work, or Jungkook's endless medical expenses. It’s a good cushion- the only safety net that they have beyond each other.

He’d never use enough to make the others suspicious- because as much as he trusts them, years of witnessing life in a gang has taught him one thing; that it’s better not to know than it is to know what’s going on. Ignorance is bliss and plausible deniability can save your life. He does not doubt that the rest of the family is well aware of who their prized beta is hanging out with, that they keep close tabs on the seven of them and how much they might know. Yoongi often hides behind the power awarded to him because of his status to keep his real family safe.

Simultaneously he has all of the power and none of it. No responsibility to actually carry out any of the bloodshed- but every major decision of succession would go through him. and that alone was enough to put a target on his back.

The only reason why the organization can survive is because of Yoongi. Without him, they’d tear themselves apart. All of the others might be the killers, but Yoongi is the enabler. The one who walks hand in hand with death and gets to decide when to sick his beast on the world.

Should we eliminate our rivals Yoongi? Should we clear that little apartment block just to pad our pockets with a high-rise? How about this pack that saw too much? Do you think the pack alpha deserves to live? Live or die Yoongi, what's your choice?

The leash goes both ways, He came when called. To help the elder beta and the don talk through his decision on who would inherit the title of the next Don when it became clear that neither of them would be alive much longer.

He didn’t expect them to die while he was in transit. The beta had passed first, and then the Don a few hours later. It’s strange for many of them to think of a beta loving someone so much that they’d stay in one place for a year- let alone the 40 that the last Don’s partner had stayed.

But Yoongi knows exactly what it feels like to love someone enough that society’s expectations are only a backdrop. Yoongi knew the beta woman well even though they weren’t blood-related. And that weekend- he mourns her just as much as he mourns his full-blooded grandfather.

Many in the family think them dying so close to each other is a little bit too fortuitous to be entirely accidental or age. The shadow of an unseen threat hangs in the balance. Murdered or dead, what does it matter? The effect is the same.

There is no Don right now, there is only Yoongi. And the decision of who will inherit the empire lies solely on his shoulders.

The rules of secession are simple and laid out in terms that the families do not argue with; to be eligible a contender must have direct lineage from one of the founding families. No adopted members or outsiders, older than 25 but younger than 55 because the fewer changes of power the better. If they kept merely picking the eldest, the don would die and change once or twice every decade. And last- no omegas or betas, the Don can only be an alpha.

Yoongi will choose the successor by himself. And If by chance he dies before choosing one, it would come down to a vote between the 12 heads of house.

Coming back feels like walking into a nightmare.

Yoongi’s always been able to put a subtle swagger on, he can walk like one of them and talk like one of them. And he feels his persona drape over him like a shroud. He knows how his eyes look when he tilts his face downwards, when he lifts his lip in a soundless snarl and stares at them like they’re all beneath him. He lets his angry ocean scent roll off of him in waves- a warning before he appears. They expect it from him- the disconcerted beta.

He hasn’t thrown up because of a dead body in years, but the matching caskets almost do it to him.

He gets more than a few tearful hugs and reunions when he walks into the cathedral. The guards at the front do not stop and ask him who he is, Anyone who's anyone knows who Yoongi is. Arguably- he’s the most important (alive) person at the funeral.

He wades through the crowd. The hundreds of people packed tight to pay their respects. All members of the family have pinned roses to their lapels as a sign of respect, white for the omegas, and red for the alphas. The omega youth who hands them out at the front desk eyes Yoongi upset, unsure which to give him, hand shaking as he flutters between white and red.

“It's fine really- I’ll just take a white one-”

“I’ve got you” a woman steps up from the crowd gathered. She’s already got a red rose pinned to the lapel of her smooth suit, and she plucks a pink rose from a nearby bouquet and tucks it into his breast pocket. “We didn’t think you’d be coming.”

She’s got short cropped brown hair, an alpha from the scent fluffing around him, peppermint- it almost has a numbing effect on his nostrils. an artificial edge that cuts the sweetness and makes it more alpha. Yoongi doesn’t recognize her until but knows they must be related. It takes him second of searching her face before he recognizes the tuck of her chin.

“Moon Byulyi”

She smiles tensely, “it’s been a while Yoongi” Moonbyul he remembers well- from childhood's spent running around in too tight tiny stuffy suit jackets at formal occasions like easter and christmas. Playing underneath tables, one of the few pups that was brave enough to talk to him.

Even as a pup, he’d been infamous. In the cathedral, people whisper, pointing him out in the crowd to their companions.

Many families choose to send their children away from the mafia life before presentation. If you’re not a beta, those formative years can be a little bit dicey, with your scent and hormones changing every few days often provoking fights and spats with others your age. An improper and dangerous volatility in a family like theirs. Scents changing too quick until they solidify during a first heat and rut cycle.

Not like Yoongi- who’s smelled like chocolate and seasalt since the second he was born. The marker of a beta is the immediately presenting scent, usually before the first year- unlike the other subgenders who smell uniform at birth. The soft pup smell that's ingrained into people's brains- to protect and provide and nourish. They’d known who he was and who he’d set out to become the second he was born.

There are boarding schools and private little Colonies of the mafia where unpresented pups can have a more dedicated education away from the families eyes. Yoongi hasn’t seen Moonbyul since just after she turned 13. And though the year’s stretch between them but she’s still the same, the mischievous lilt to her words more diffused here, she looks as tired and as anxious as they all feel.

There is only one person in the room that Yoongi’s even a little bit afraid of. “Have you seen my brother?” she makes a noise, sending a glance behind him. Yoongi knows to turn before Geumjae can get too close, but it’s still too late.

There are crows feet beginning to pull at the corners of his eyes, Geumjae must be nearly 33 now. His brother looks exactly like he did the last time Yoongi saw him, not taller than yoongi, but broader, his shoulders saying ‘alpha’ before his scent does.

He pulls Yoongi close with a hard hand at his neck digging into his scent gland and Yoongi almost lets out a strangled growl. Geumjae forces them to embrace, the picture of brotherly affection and comfort as he presses Yoongi’s face into his shoulder, mouth pressed to his ear hidden in yoongi’s hairline so that no one can hear what he has to say to his younger brother.

Yoongi wants to recoil from the closeness- the sensitivity of having anyone near his scent gland but his pack mates has his body screaming to react. But can’t pull away or else risk making a scene.

There are no hello’s, no farce, just straight to business.

“I hope you’re not planning to change anything Yoonie.” Geumjae says the childish nickname with a sickly sweet lilt to it. “It’s been so long since we’ve all seen you that you’re practically an outsider. There’s a lot you don’t understand. You should let your older brother teach you how things work again.”

Yoongi can’t push Geumjae away- can’t- no matter how much his burning wood scent is sticking in his nose and making him want to cough. Geumjae’s expensive suit reeks of cologne at odds with his scent. Geumjae smells and acts like wildfires and burning houses- destructive and unpredictable.

The funeral is a time they all should be mourning their elder not making plans over his deathbed. But Geumjae seems to have a different idea of what is proper. He’s eligible for the next don position, and having his brother decide who gets to wear the crown is as good as having won the title already.

Geumjae knows of Yoongi’s only weak spot.

“All this talk has me thinking- if you died I guess we’d have to invite your pack huh little brother? And none of us would want that. I wonder why you didn’t bring them. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were afraid of us getting our hands on them.” he pulls back, smiling- though it’s not friendly- more of a bearing of teeth. Geumjae must have had implants put in because his canines seem sharper than should be normal. “But I know we’ll never have to find out.”

Yoongi’s blood runs cold- he knows enough to read between the lines. They’re not even thinly veiled; these are real threats. Yoongi does his best to school his face into a somber frown. If Geumjae was threatening to bring his pack here with Yoongi’s death- he could only assume his life and theirs would be forfeit If he didn’t choose his older brother as the next leader.

Even though there were others that would have done a better job. Even if Yoongi didn’t want him to have it. Geumjae is an eligible alpha it’s only natural that he’d want the power and money awarded to him the the Don position.

He has to act carefully- deliberate. Maybe call Namjoon and tell him he’d be gone for a few more weeks than he thought, Though even that might be a risk.

But still, Geumjae has more cards he needs to play to secure his title. And the next Don won’t be chosen for the next 120 days as is tradition. Until then Yoongi’s the one who will govern the affairs of the family who will be the voice of reason.

There will be no death and no punishments, A time for everyone to gather and mourn and talk about what needs to be done each voice heard in equal measure. It’s his job as the only beta left to make sure the family doesn’t fall prey to infighting while the next leader is being chosen.

As for the matter of succession, His older brother was the clear favorite among the families. Though the 20 or so other eligible family members who could take the role of the next Don would probably accuse Yoongi of being nepotistic. the rest of the families expected Yoongi to choose wisely.

He wasn’t the only alpha or the oldest male alpha by far and In Yoongi’s opinion, Geumjae was probably the worst alpha for the job. In Geumjae the others saw a gangster more bloodthirsty and crazy than half of them, and in their minds that was a good thing.

Yoongi doesn’t meet you at the funeral, but at the next family meal the following Saturday.

Though the Don’s house will sit vacant until the next one is chosen, they still have family dinners there. Not many of them are in possession of large enough tables to fit more than thirty people though Yoongi’s sure half of them are preparing their mansions otherwise. To have these meetings on their own turf might give them an advantage.

The Don’s compounded mansion is neutral ground and yet, a reminder with its sprawling decadent expanse of what they all stand to gain if they convince Yoongi to choose their sons or daughters.

The heads of family are sat at the table done up in their finest suits and gowns, all black- it will be a little while before anyone feels comfortable wearing any color. Some family dinners are cooked by the grannies and the omegas- but this one is catered by a small staff.

Your red lipstick is the one splotch of color at the table, and Yoongi spies more than one of the elders eyeing you with distaste. He doubts anyones explained to you the rule of ‘no color for the first 13 days after a death’.

You’re at Geumjae's side, carefully poised, not a hair out of place as you smile and answer the questions asked to you politely- never instigating a conversation with another soul at the table. You’re his brother’s new omega wife (the fact that Yoongi never attended the wedding is something he’s teased about- but no one really minds. It's chalked up to his flightiness as a beta).

You might be married to Geumjae, but that doesn’t mean you’re a head of house like the other wives. You’re an outsider, and as such- are always treated with a little bit of reluctance. You’re not related to any of them by blood, and that makes you dangerous, a risk.

The wolves at the table eye you like you could be easy prey.

At first, you’re unremarkable- if not for the gentle sweet scent that flicks across Yoongi’s nose, something refreshing that Yoongi can’t place. It’s something that makes him instantly miss his omegas back home. The yearning for them lighting little sparks of heat on his cheeks.Yoongi tells himself that’s the only reason why he finds his eyes hovering on you.

Throughout the whole evening, you stick close to your husband’s side as a good omega should. One of the grannies praises you for it, for knowing your place, Yoongi rolls his eyes internally at that. You only find old sentiments like that here- gender roles are more strictly enforced within older packs.

Not all couples wear mating marks and neither do either of you yet. Getting marked is more binding than a marriage pact- it’s as much as agreeing to share your soul with someone. Mating marks are a dangerous thing; If one part of the mated pair dies then the other has a strong chance of doing so too. It's one of the reasons why it’s not done so much anymore.

Which is probably one of the reasons why most people in the family choose to have mating marks- especially if they commit to bringing in an outsider. You can’t snitch on someone who can smell when you’re lying; you can’t kill someone who dies if you do. One of Yoongi’s female cousins asks you about it you that admit- sounding a little too relieved to escape notice- that you’ve decided to wait until your next heat to solidify the mating.

Yoongi doesn’t miss the way that Geumjae’s fingers dig into your neck- a little too hard when you say it. Or the way that he can see faint bruises on your wrists when your sleeve falls down. Hidden partially by a set of thick silver bangles. A gift from Geumjae you say when Yoongi compliments them. Though Yoongi doesn’t say that they look more like shackles than like bracelets. You meet his eyes over the table and your gaze quickly flickers away. Your attention as fickle as a butterfly in a garden full of thorned roses.

Yoongi has his suspicions already- and he’s only had one meal with you.

“Maybe you could show me where to find something like them” he comments idly, talking to omegas about trinkets isn't suspicious. The other omegas sat at the table are dressed like a bunch of haughty crows, bespeckled with enough diamonds to put a jewelry store out of business. “I think my omegas might like them something like that.”

It’s a lie- both Jungkook and Seokjin hate heavy jewelry. Yoongi just wants to ask about the bruises he’s seen and get a read on you. You’re his sister in law for Christ’s sake- he should get to know you a little especially since you’re a part of the family now. Yoongi knows from experience how daunting they can be.

He’s the one person that you cannot refuse a request from, and neither can Geumjae. Though Yoongi can tell he wants to stop you and Yoongi from having a day to talk away from him when Yoongi insists that you go alone. More than one head of house nods encouragingly at Yoongi. They still see him as the youth who had a hard time handling bloodshed. All of them probably think he's going to check up on you and make sure the outsider isn't a threat.

He picks you up in a taxi the next day, and Yoongi treats you to coffee and shaved ice that you pick at. He can’t help but notice that the shirt you’ve worn is tighter today too- no possibility of the bruises on your wrist being spotted. As you talk about the wedding he missed, about the family, about anything but your husband.

You rarely meet eye contact but you’re both good at steering the conversation into safe territory. You like a lot of the same music, and you’re a fan of the same drama that Tae and Seokjin like to watch. That’s the first time Yoongi sees your face light up. Yoongi wonders what you have to escape if you’re this invested in a story that is not your own.

Yoongi doesn’t think he’s liked someone this quick, not since Namjoon or maybe the three Maknaes. Though that was less slow burning. Yoongi has barely spent 6 uninterrupted hours in your company and yet, he finds his hand hovering by yours, ready to pull you back when you almost step out into the street when a car speeds by.

You lean into his space a little, blinking at the sudden loud noise, the car speeding past and honking at you to get out of the way. His hand still a vice around your upper arm pulled you in closer than should be proper. Whispering a small thank you with wide eyes that look up at him, Like you’re surprised that he thought to make sure you weren’t in harm's way. Yoongi doesn't know how you almost walked out into traffic, how you didn’t see the car coming.

You remind Yoongi of a clumsy baby kitten or maybe like an alley cat that hasn’t committed, like you want to trust him but can’t yet. You look at Yoongi like you're half scared of him and half hopeful. He remembers feeling that way, so desperate for something to hold onto but so conscious of the fact that to hope means to invite in disappointment.

He understands it, Yoongi is a patient man. He thinks of trying to make up for the bloodshed he’s caused- life by life that he can save to cancel out the guilt in his heart. You might be a good place to start.

on your day out Yoongi actually does manage to find a small gift for Seokjin. Delicate gold rings that should fit the omegas hands. “You know his ring size?” you tease, Yoongi nods. Blushing, somewhere in his things back home, there is a wedding ring that he’d never given Seokjin. But Yoongi has known seokjin’s ring size since the second month he knew him.

“Must be one lucky omega then.” Yoongi blushes and you smile. It feels good against the cold. Your scent is cold and sweet, a little fresh and he struggles to place it. Fall is starting to end, and soon winter will take hold. While you walk to another shop Yoongi decides that he’ll call his pack later this week and tell them he needs to spend a little more time with his family- they’ll understand, they always do.

He’s been worried about breaking the news to them, doesn’t know how he’s going to tell them that he has to stay for the next few months. Maybe he’ll be able to slip away for a weekend. But seeing them again might just complicate things. There’s no telling what the family will think if he leaves them at a vulnerable time like this.

There's no way he can avoid staying the customary 120 days, it's only 3 months, they can survive without him. But then there is the matter of what happens after. Will the family let him escape back to his old life? or is that part of Yoongi’s life done? will he be shackled to Geumjae for the rest of his life as the last beta left? it's not written into their laws that the beta has to stay- but it might as well be.

But Yoongi wouldn't be the only person shackled to Geumjae's side if Yoongi doesn't find a way around naming him Don. No- you would be shackled to his side too.

You’re both lost in thought when the rain starts up, a sudden downpour, the kind of rain that will soak you in only a few second. Yoongi doesn’t care about getting the gift wet- he’ll just re-wrap it before he sends it to Seokjin, probably with a few other gifts as an apology for not being able to come home. But You use your body to shield the present you’ve gotten for your husband, a pair of silver cufflinks, Rather than let it get wet.

But then you tilt your face up, letting the cold hit your skin, the raindrops like little kisses from the clouds that hit your cheek. And Yoongi is bewitched for a moment- as he finally places your scent; you smell like the rain, the sweet scent of petrichor. Being in a rainstorm is like being surrounded by you. It’s an unusually clean scent for a omega and nothing he could place just by smelling it once.

In the rainstorm, Yoongi feels like he’s surrounded by you.

He’s just watching the raindrops dance on your skin, doesn’t even really realize it when he lifts his hand to touch your lips- and wipes away the water- unknowingly smudging the concealer and revealing the bruises on your cheek. your puffy lower lip- swollen from whatever hit it and not just full like he’d first thought. The scarf around your neck sags with the heavy rain- and Yoongi sees the marks of fingertips there too, bruises left from hands around your neck.

You recoil like you've been shocked. Just by the touch, you don't realize what the touch has revealed until you notice the way Yoongi's eyes are locked on your neck and your jaw. The marks that Geumjae left when he got rough with you last night

Your scared look is something that he’ll never forgive himself for. Especially when you clamp your hands over your chin and your cheek. Now that Yoongi knows what’s there he can see all of it. The mottled bruises are covered with just slightly off-color concealer, yellow toned to offset the purple.

Yoongi wonders how long you’ve had to hide them and If the abuse started before or after your marriage. Knowing Geumjae- he probably waited to show you his true colors after you were already married, when you knew about the family and didn’t have a hope of leaving without losing your life. The family doesn’t allow divorces.

You don’t say anything to each other until after a second. And it pisses him off When you immediately try to do damage control. Yoongi doesn't even have to ask where you got them before you're defending your husband. “He’s not- he’s not that bad.” Yoongi can barely hear you over the roar of the rain. He knows he probably smells like the ocean right now.

You smell like rain and yoongi smells like the ocean. Together you are a typhoon.

“Don’t,” Yoongi says with a raised hand, realizing what he’s done wrong seconds later. His words of ‘don’t defend him’ dying in his throat when he sees you prepare to be hit. Like you’ve learned how to handle hurt and compartmentalize it. If you’re getting abused by your husband it stands to reason that his brother will do the same.

His touch on your chin is gentle but you still flinch from it. Yoongi’s bags- gifts for the omegas that deserve this man in front of you (who is as beautiful as he is kind, The kind of man that you don’t deserve) fall to the ground in favor of grabbing you gently before you can bolt.

You're beginning to realize that Yoongi is nothing like his brother. You’ve seen the way he acts around the others in the family; always ready to offer an encouraging touch to the young pups and a helpful hand to the old grannies. As intense of a man as he is dangerously kind. And after today you think that out of all of them, he’s the only member of the mafia that you could ever learn to like.

Not love, because love isn’t something you’d ever get.

An omega like you didn’t deserve love, you were barely worth the shirt on your back. Though maybe that was because it was an expensive shirt- your husband likes when you’re dressed to impress, in burberry and balenciaga. It sends a pointed message to the other families,Even if it makes you feel like an accessory. Feeling like an accessory is better than feeling like a nuisance, like the dirt under his shoes- so you take what you can get.

You’re only valuable when you open your legs for your husband in the evenings and provide him the other slight comforts, like the food you meticulously make for him the house you make into a perfect home. You’re as much for decoration as the fancy designer couch or the crystal chandelier.

You don’t know how long it's been since you’ve started to believe the horse shit that Geumjae shoved down your throat. That you should let him hurt you when he felt like it because he was the one with the money and the power. That you were lucky he didn’t treat you worse. You don’t know when you started to believe that his job was stressful enough to make the abuse justified. You don’t know when you started to believe that you deserve it.

But now- Yoongi in front of you feels like a tease- the person you might have had if you’d chosen the right brother. You’re not worth his kindness or his gentleness when he cradles your face in his hand, thumb on your bruised chin. So light it doesn’t hurt.

His promise tastes rotten in your mouth. “I will never hurt you, you don’t have to be afraid of me.” You stare at him, stepping back out of his grasp- keenly aware that no matter the empty rain-filled streets are there could always be someone watching. Someone who could tell Geumjae that Yoongi had put his hands on you. However gently, it doesn’t matter when it comes to your husband.

Your skin belongs to him; your body belongs to him. You’re everything his domain. When you find time to feel something other than fear- you hate it. And hate the man that you once said you loved. No matter what your family and friends had told you about your boyfriend, then fiancé, and now your demon.

They didn’t come around anymore; you haven’t spoken to them in years. Whenever they call, Geumjae gets a notification on his phone. You know he has it tracked as well to keep an eye on you. And it's easier to just not pick up than have him question you and demand you turn over your phone. Even if nothing is telling in your text messages he’ll find something to be mad about.

Your husband is as possessive of you as he is violent. The last time another man had touched you- just a hand on the small of your back- Geumjae had carved his initials into the place he touched and cut off the other man's hand. the scars would have stuck if you hadn’t used scar cream, and really- it wasn’t that deep or that bad, you hadn’t even needed stitches. If he’d been truly angry- he would have cut you deeper.

Even in your own mind, you make it out as less bad then it is.

As much for your safety as for Yoongi’s- He can’t get close to you or else risk Geumjae’s wrath. You eye his offending hand and it curls to a loose fist by his side. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Yoongi.”

Yoongi brings up the abuse to Geumjae (which is probably questionable- but what else can Yoongi do to help you?). Predictably- he dismisses Yoongi . “She’s just an omega- you know how they are- they need a firm hand to keep them in their place.” Yoongi scoffs thinking of his omegas. Anyone who even dared to think that Seokjin and Jungkook did not wear the pants in their pack had another thing coming to them.

He watches Geumjae cut another line of cocaine. The amount of drugs in this Geumjae’s study cost enough to feed a small family for a year. But Yoongi knows better than to partake. He pretends to take a Bump and taps it off when Geumjae tips back a shot."Omegas aren't even fucking worth it if you ask me, brother, you're supposed to give half of yourself away, and for fucking what? A glorified bed warmer?"

Yoongi boils and stays silent, letting Geumjae get himself wasted on drugs and alcohol. He can't tell what distresses him more; that Geumjae has such little regard for life that he can't recognize that omegas are fucking people- or that he's so freely sharing this with yoongi.

He knows he’s toeing the line. More pushing might hurt you more, if he provoked aggression from his brother- it would no doubt come back to bite you. Yoongi can’t imagine wanting to hurt someone he loves or speaking with the same callousness that Geumjae speaks. “Don’t you love her?”

Geumjae laughs at Yoongi’s childish question “Oh little brother, don’t you know that love makes you stupid?”

Those threats from the funeral linger. And it's not only your life and Yoongi’s at stake here but the rest of his pack. He has to fool Geumjae into thinking he is on his side.

“Work with me here- what will the other omegas in the pack think of you if they find out what kind of shit you pull? And they’ll take their concerns straight to their alphas and say you’re unfit to lead. You know I have to listen to the bulk of them regardless of what you want.”

If he can’t appeal to Geumjae’s humanity- he can appeal to Geumjae’s better interest and common sense. His image in the family is arguably the most important thing in geumjae’s mind, and Yoongi can tell by the way that Geumjae stiffens when he says the words that it’s stuck.

Geumjae might have been trained in torture, but Yoongi was trained in manipulation. And he take the bait- hook, line, and sinker.

After that, he has the good sense to act softer with you in front of the rest of the family. But he fears he might have done more bad than good when he sees the way you stiffen and fail to meet his eyes more consistently as the days go on. You’re sensitive about eye contact, Yoongi gets it; You don’t have as much control over your facial expression as the rest of these robotic mobsters.

Group dinners are routine, and while Yoongi could find an excuse to see you during the day, he’s also often pulled in 50 different directions by the expectations of his family.

He finds himself reading for dinner in a hurry most nights, eager or maybe a little panicked to check in with you. You never request his presence, you never text (though he made sure you have his number just in case). the family dinners are tense between the two of you. You maintain none of the easy friendship you’d started that day in the rain or that closeness. You avoid him like the plague at dinner, and It’s like that day in the rain never happened.

Geumjae sticks to your side like glue too. A hand that probably looks protective to anyone else but looks possessive to Yoongi slung around your waist. Yoongi sees the harshness and pain in your body when Geumjae’s hand tightens digging into the swell of your hip. You’re soft in the way that most omegas are a little soft- and it’s as expected as it is distracting.

He manages to corner you during one of the dinners, here in a forgotten side room you both hover. You can hear the omegas and the grannies gossiping in the kitchen and outside, the alphas have disappeared to smoke cuban cigars and appreciate a new rolls royce that one of the uncles bought.

You both occupy the space, and Yoongi watches you out of the corner of his eye while you both look out at the garden, speckled with lights sipping on your champagne.

The corset portion of your dress makes your chest soft looking, plump and inviting if Yoongi was the kind of man to get distracted by something like that. As it is- all he notices is how it’s making your chest heave. Breath uneven, he thinks he can hear the boning in the dress creek. It’s a designer thing, but it looks too tight on you. He can tell how uncomfortable you are.

“Are you okay?” he asks, though it's clear you’re not, you don’t reply, looking down and away worried. Hand hovering over your stomach in an anxious way, “I won’t get mad whatever it is.”

You bite your lower lip. Hand catching yourself on a side table before you teater over, dizzy. Yoongi grabs your forearm to steady you startled. “He did my corset too tight, it’s hurting my ribs. I feel like I’m going to pass out.” Yoongi quickly looks around, but there is no one around in the part of the house right now, you’re alone.

Yoongi turns you around quickly, setting his champagne to the side and grabbing yours out of your hand before you can spill it. He undoes the top knot of the dress and you inhale gratefully, gasping as he tugs at the strings looser, fingers touching your bare skin. “Is that better?” he has to be quick. This isn’t exactly scandalous- but its not quite proper.

Especially when Yoongi’s hands hover on the bare skin of your back. You have freckles here, he wonders if you know. His finger hides a beauty mark.

You inhale deep and grateful. “So much better, thank you.” you barely have a second to both straighten up, Yoongi's fingers pulling the bow back together. grabbing your champagne and sipping at it a careful distance away from each other. The picture of propriety as Geumjae and a few other alphas return from smoking cigars out front in a puff of rich smoke.

“Don’t mention it.” Yoongi says it softly so that only you can hear it.

More than once. Geumjae catches him staring at you during the dinner. You look so much more comfortable now that it’s been loosened. Your hand hovering in front of your dress to conceal your cleavage under the guise of fiddling with your necklace. During those moments, Geumjae rewards Yoongi’s wandering gaze with bold touches. A hand sliding from waist to hip and your sudden straightening in pain.

Geumjae’s harsh fingers digging into a bad bruise on your hip. You’re so trained, you barely flinch when he does it. And still- Yoongi’s hands tighten in his slacks. Gritting his teeth and biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from making a scene and reaching across the table to stop Geumjae from hurting you.

Many of the other members of the family notice Geumjae’s sudden dogmatic approach to your presence in his life. Confirming what Yoongi suspects. That he’d never given you too much attention at these family meals before Yoongi came with his wandering eyes. He should do better be better not to put you in harm's way.

Yoongi keeps his eyes firmly trained on his plate full of spiced soft-shelled crab as one of the grannies comments on how sweet the two of you seem. Yoongi wants to gag. “You know how new love is. I feel like we’ll be in the honeymoon phase forever. I want her all to myself so bad I think she’s worried I’ll chain her to my bed” he says- feigning drunkenness. You laugh too- trying to play it off but Yoongi can see your barely concealed fear.

He’s not the only one who notices how uncomfortable you are either; his cousin’s mate, a curly-haired omega also looks at you more than she should. Measuring your wellbeing with every long searching look. Yoongi see’s Geumjae smile at her. It’s not a kind of happy gesture, showing his teeth an inch away from snapping at her.

Byulyi, The omega’s mate notices. Coolly leveling Geumjae with a challenging look. She doesn’t instigate a fight at the obvious show of aggression and while others might see that as weak Yoongi sees it as a sign of grace. No need to engage with here.

There is a place that the family keeps only for the betas when they come into town, not an apartment but more of a safe house. The small yellow cottage that’s been owned by them for almost longer than the city was a city. It’s shoved between two apartment buildings and a 7/11. In a hidden ally way that’s barely wide enough for a car; most people wouldn’t even know it was a driveway with all of the shrubbery.

From the bedroom. Yoongi can just see the neon lights from the street, the glowing seven just over the trees. It’s an interesting mix of quaint old world and blinding toxic neon.

At night, the street has a large amount of foot traffic, perfect to disappear into if you needed it, so much so that it was nearly impossible to be followed to the place or tailed out of it. It feels like the cottage barely exists on the same plane as the rest of the city.

It's considered as good as hallowed ground in the gang world. No blood can be spilled there or else an instant hit will be ordered on the person who has. It’s law, people need a safe place to come and seek council. The betas need to be preserved. It belongs to him now, no one else has the bloodright to this place. after the first two weeks when Yoongi got tired and a little nervous about staying in a hotel. He moves in.

Most of the last betas stuff has been moved out, put in storage for however long it takes for someone to be tasked to go through it and burn anything that might be telling. There isn’t anyone to inherit their things nor much value to them. Their beta wasn’t a fan of designer clothes or fanciful trinkets that were paid for with blood money.

The cottage is physical representations of that. It has drafts under the windows and bad heating, the green velvet couch in the livingroom sags from the weight of years of use, but at least the mattress is new. Honestly- Yoongi would stay somewhere else if dealing with another hotel or a short-term rental wasn’t going to wreak havoc on his bank account and be more trouble than it was worth.

Yoongi fingers the rotten edge of a window and daydreams about maybe getting a house of his own one day. He even contemplates fixing it for his short stay here.

He thinks that the rest of Namjoon’s pack would like it. They wouldn’t even have to get a new house because Yoongi would love to learn how to fix it up himself. He’s always been the handyman of their pack.

And he’d never say it- but the affectionate looks he gets from Seokjin and Namjoon when he fixes the leaky faucet for the third time that month and the short pets to his hair are something that reminded him of early happy times when their shitty apartments maintenance men couldn’t be trusted.

If he owned this house and wanted to stay in this city- he’d put a second story, maybe a writing room and library for Tae. And more windows to look out on the garden because Jimin’s always complaining about the lack of natural light in their apartment. He could add sunrooms and skylights and re-do the squeaky floorboards. He thinks the wood is pine, Namjoon would know. He contemplates calling his alpha, his heart giving a pang of grief before he thinks better of it.

Grief consumes him for a moment as he flops on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. When he closes his eyes he can almost smell the members of his pack. His hands tighten in the sheets and he daydreams that they’re there with him. curled up close in this queen bed, too small for the seven of them. They’d have to press close to fit.

Most of this visit has been too stressful for him to even think of them. But now he aches and aches and aches, like grief is a plant that's taken rest in his chest, prying open his ribs with its greedy roots.

How many days had he taken their easy affection for granted? Yoongi’s body burns with the need for his mates. Burns a little as he blinks back a stinging in his eyes that has nothing to do with the dusty interior of the cottage. He sighs out a heavy breath, thinking of a future, them, pups maybe, in a house somewhere that Yoongi could build with his own two hands.

Then the next second, he finds himself laughing at the ceiling because that’s a pipe dream. It echoes in the empty house, dark with no one to wonder after it. getting his pack back again, owning his own house, and having the money to re-do it is something that’s completely out of reach. As is surviving this unscathed.

Yoongi puts his odds at being able to leave this at 50%, maybe 60% if he’s lucky. Maybe he’ll get a cool scar out of it. But that only brings up bad ideas in his head, because there is one person whose odds of getting out of this unharmed are next to zero at best; And that’s you. You’re both fucked.

He wonders what you’re doing right now, the only person in the gang whose as trapped as he is. Maybe you’re looking up at the ceiling of your bedroom like he is. He wonders if you’re wishing that you were anywhere else right now too.

Geumjae inherited their families’ wealth when their parents died as well as the property they both grew up in. He wonders what Geumjae has done to the house in his absence. The house that you’re no doubt trapped in just like Yoongi was growing up.

As much as Yoongi would love to help you and steal you away from this place- it would be stupid. Even then, he wants to try.

The idea of a beta wanting a house and a place to stay is a ridiculous dream, and yet- Yoongi dreams it anyway. He dreams of navy blue rooms and floor-to-ceiling windows and skylights that he could watch the snowfall through. And he dreams that the ones he loves are stretched out with him below a skylight, on top of a plush red blanket that shields them from the cold.

He blinks and the person curled up next to him changes with every flicker of his eyelids. One moment Jimin is lying next to him, his hair splayed out all pretty, and the next Hoseok is pulling him in for sweet kisses, and then jungkook looking at him like he does when the youngest gets all scent drunk and hazy and so on and so forth.

The last time he opens his eyes before he truly wakes, he sees you, your eyes staring unblinking at him, so still. The red blanket below him is wet, it’s not a blanket at all, but a pool of blood. Someone's shot you between the eyes, and Yoongi feels the gun in his hands and tastes the powder on his teeth before he wakes from the nightmare with a start.

He blinks back the wetness in his eyes and rubs furiously at them. Yoongi can see his breath in the air and when he walks to the windows and finds the cottage and the garden dusted with a thin coating of ice. He turns the heat on as high as he can make it.

It’s no surprise that the last beta and the late don turned the beta safe house into something of a love nest. There’s still an “I love you” sticky note stuck to the yellow fridge. And it makes a discomfort rise in his chest so thick. It makes Yoongi sick to his stomach that the late Don and his beta had to hide their love away here. He takes the note off the fridge and puts it in a small side drawer full of rubber bands and junk so that he doesn’t have to look at it.

It's one of the few things that makes him pick up his phone and text- not anyone from his pack (that’s too risky)- But you. Maybe you’re doomed, but that doesn’t mean that Yoongi can’t try and make it a little bit better. He thinks of the dream. Thinks of your blood and the gun in his hands and types the message furiously. Hitting send before he can consider his own instincts of self-preservation.

“Let me know if you want to go out again somewhere, you probably know the city better than me at this point, and I’d love to see it again.” Maybe it’s a flimsy excuse. But Yoongi hopes that removing you from your husband’s presence for just a few hours will make a positive difference. Maybe he can show you that life doesn’t have to be painful.

You remind Yoongi of himself just before he left. So uncomfortable and alone- and Yoongi thinks that if there’s one thing that having a broken family teaches you- it’s that softness and vulnerability aren’t things that you should seek to squash. You have to struggle and fight to remain soft, That there is a certain strength in knowing when things are wrong.

Yoongi doesn’t know when his plan turned into “make sure we both get out of here alive. And break up their marriage in a way that results in her survival.” versus “get back to the pack.” but he can’t say he hates the idea of you two no longer being together.

The first snow of the season makes the city fall to almost a standstill and he’s glad to spend the morning uncalled on at the cottage. Busies himself with cleaning up and making little changes around the house. Happy to have something for his hands to do and ease his mind. Like fixing a squeaky door and righting one of the cabinets that have sagged, making it flush with all the others.

His text remains unanswered, but thats okay. He didn’t expect you to get back to him right away.

He tries to stop himself from hoping when his phone lights up just after dinner, but it’s just one of his family members who’s in his part of town and wants to go out for drinks. It’s not one of the cousin’s whose in line for the throne so Yoongi’s not worried about being pitched so late in the evening.

In all likelihood it's probably just them come to bitch at Yoongi about one thing or another. There aren’t many safe confidants. And Yoongi gets paid because he’s sort of the mafias therapist.

He wishes he could ask Jin for some tips when a few hours later he’s got an omega crying into his shoulder, drunk off his ass. It’s good to reconnect with them and the rest of his family. Makes him feel more certain in his resolve of preventing Geumjae from disrupting this peace.

He doesn’t get drunk- not even close. He’s not stupid. It’s not until he’s nearly home that he recognizes the empty weight in his pockets. That’s funny- his wallets still there- but his phone isn’t. Not usual for a pickpocket. Maybe he just left it back at the cottage.

None of the locks in his apartment sabotaged though he’d been careful to lock them all on his way out. It would be completely normal and unassuming; his phone sitting on the bedspread where maybe he left it.

Yoongi would chalk it up to his own forgetfulness if there weren’t a bullet hole clean through the top corner.

Yoongi fingers the hole. The phone is as good as a paperweight now. There is a sticky note on the front. It only says a few words but they make Yoongi’s blood go cold regardless.

“Someone named Namjoon called and he wants you home. We want you to leave too” there’s a little bit of blood on the corner of the note. And when he lifts it to his nose- he smells your fresh rain scent, colder than ever with something that Yoongi might recognize as fear. Not even a hint of sweetness.

Most people have two scents- a primary scent that usually indicated happy emotions and a secondary scent that’s usually a little harsher- meant to draw in one's pack members, to communicate to others that you’re in distress without having to say it. Most people hover somewhere around the middle between the two normally but Yoongi has never smelled something from you other than the rain.

Yoongi has always smelled like cocoa when he’s happy and sea salt when he’s angry. He wonders what you smell like when you’re happy and truly comfortable. He wonders if he’ll ever get to smell it. Are you all rainstorms and thunder, or is there something sweeter that you’re capable of?

What are you like when you’re happy and not just afraid?

It’s been years but Yoongi still recognizes Geumjae’s handwriting. And it's then that Yoongi decides that he won’t leave- not until he can secure your safety. Maybe Yoongi can’t stop Geumjae from taking the crown, but Yoongi as sure as hell can make sure you don’t get caught up in this life.

You’ve only been married to Geumjae for a little more than a year and you don’t have his mating mark yet. There is still time for you to survive this- to get out. And Yoongi knows before he names his older brother as the next Don he’s going to have to make you disappear.

Things get worse before they get better. Geumjae takes the fact that Yoongi didn’t leave the first second after that note as a personal treat.

Yoongi’s at his brother’s house for dinner when he backhands you after you drop a plate. Yoongi Doesn’t keep himself in his seat- can’t stop himself from standing and grabbing his brothers arm before he deals another blow. And maybe it only makes it worse for you but Yoongi’s hands shake with the way you’d looked at him from the floor- holding your cheek defiant and alive. Like you still have a fight left in you.

It’s a look he tries to remember as time goes on and your fighting spirit fades.

You don’t deserve any of this from Geumjae, not the backhanded compliments that have you pushing the food around your plate. The ones that make you starve yourself so bad that you collapse one day when Yoongi has come over.

Checking up on everyone in the family during mourning times and making sure they’re all right is one of his responsibilities as beta. And he can guess for certain that his presence in your house will be easy to excuse. He just wants to make sure the newest member of the family isn’t a mole. That excuse satisfies everyone, even Geumjae.

None of them suspect what he’s planning, not even Geumjae worries that his younger brother has a certain unhealthy attachment to his wife. Yoongi isn't just a good manipulator, he’s the best.

He makes a show of it, and it has the double purpose of undermining geumjae’s position in the family when they have a meeting after the first month, only the head of houses, 13 people sat around the table. Yoongi standing at the head. he infuses his words with enough venom to kill everyone at this table.

“I cannot believe you’re foolish enough to bring in someone as incompetent, and as stupid as you did brother,” Yoongi lies- they’re all lies- lies- lies- “you clearly haven’t been making decisions with the families best interest in mind, i expected better from you.”

5 out of the 11 heads (save Geumjae) nod at Yoongi’s words. It would have been safer for a head of household to pursue someone from within the family, let alone an outsider who had a clear lack of money or connections. that much is true. “This matter requires my personal involvement.” Geumjae won’t contradict Yoongi in front of the other heads of household. Merely nods at him somberly, accepting his criticism.

Yoongi is a good actor, he wonders what they think he’s doing with you, maybe interrogating, maybe torturing, whatever it is- it’s a far cry from his twice weekly visits to you. Knocking on the door before he lets himself in. You’re already pink cheeked and smiling shyly, ready to take his coat. “i’ve got it- i’ve got it” he tries to insist. But he suspects it has more to do with your trained countinance than any real want to take care of him. He lets you hang up his coat.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner- grannie was a little distraught” in truth- the old woman had cried into Yoongi’s arms for a good two hours; it had eaten up most of his morning. You never fail to smile at Yoongi when he appears in your kitchen. Practically bouncing on your heels, your house always smells sweet, vanilla and sugar and milk. Scents that make yoongi ache. You bake every day- unaware of the fact that the scents you conjure with your hobby make Yoongi think of people he loves and misses daily.

He doesn't know what his family think he’s doing with you, but having tea with you and just talking- probably isn’t it. The house that yoongi grew up in has been turned into a modern monstrocity, all black and glass steal. His brothers taste not yours. And only your kitchen doesn't feel cold and impersonal. though that has more to do with the fact that you’re in it. He spends his afternoons with you munching on the sweets you’ve created and tea and coffee, once you learn that's what Yoongi likes- you always have a pot ready when he comes knocking.

On the days where it doesn't hurt as much, you ask Yoongi about his pack, always small questions. It’s not exactly a safe topic, and you go into scary territory, tip toeing here and there around things that you really want to say, filling up on lemon tarts and custard filled pastries.

You don’t know them by name, only by scent. And Yoongi only brings them up when he feels like he can handle the pain. It helps that with every day here he makes them safer. He’s a dangerous man to love and he knows that. he knows they probably don’t see it that way, but it makes yoongi feel better about leaving them.

He’s going to have a lot to explain to them, if he ever makes it back.

“Jungkook-”

“The one who smells like honey?” you clarify, “your honey?”

Yoongi tips his head good naturedly, “yes, my honey” the sweetness coats his tongue, almost making him think the youngest omega was here. “He would love stuff like this, he’s a total muscle pig, but he only really works out so that he can eat as much food as he wants” Yoongi says the words hushed. Like they’re a secret.

You hide your smile in the lip of a teacup. “I’ll have to make it for him one day then.” it’s a soft sentiment even if it’s another impossibility.

The next time he comes over, it’s after a particularly hard morning. regardless of the don’s position remaining unfilled- bloodshed can’t be avoided sometimes. A doc worker who didn’t want to pay the usual fee, who had thought foolishly that things would change now that their isn’t a sole person in control.

Yoongi had been called into help, and he’d had to leave the man a bloody heap, barely breathing. Yoongi had been able to leave him alive. Walking away with heavy footsteps.

He’d made sure to wash the blood off of his hands change his clothes, but he’d forgotten his shoes, walking all over your rug and tracking blood in to your house. You don’t level it or him with any distaste, No matter how much he apologizes. But he can tell you don’t really mind. He wonders how many times you’ve had to clean up blood in this house.

And how many times that blood has been your own.

“Did you kill him?” Yoongi can’t breath around the tension in his chest. You touch his hands, and somehow- you don’t expect them to be as warm as they are. warm monsters cannot survive the coldness of hell like you can.

“No. But I could have.” you trace along one of the bruised knuckles delicately, making a small noise in the back of his mouth. He’s soft like me, you think, just simply, and you’re right. Yoongi is soft- too soft for this life, you can see it in his eyes.

That day, he walks in to your kitchen and smells Jungkook all around. sweet honey cakes sitting on the smaller kitchen table not the stately dining room that you must use for more formal occasions. They’re perfect little hexagons with delicately piped bumblebees on top with butter cream. They look so pretty and they smell so good, but not better than they taste.

He doesn't say anything and you don’t expect him too as he starts eating them, a cup of black coffee in a teacup for him too. And you watch and wait, not saying anything when the soft tears start falling with every bite. Yoongi will treasure every honey tart on the plate.

Fuck- he misses them so bad. coffee like namjoon, honey like Jungkook, the buttercream on top reminds him of Seokjin and the sugar on the table to hoseok.

Rain sparks, distressed. “Yoongi-” you clink your glass on the saucer, and it makes you both flinch. “Are you Okay?” Yoongi doesn't move to wipe away his tears. he lets them fall- lets it hurt because there is no avoiding his guilt and pain at this.

“I’ll be alright.” he eats, and you let him without asking why he’s crying. you knew when you looked up the recipe that it might not be the right choice, that it might be too much for yoongi to handle. But you want to show him, in the limited way you feel allowed, that it’s okay to miss them. That he doesn't have to hide how much being away from them hurts. You’ve never known a beta before, but you get the feeling that no matter your prior expectations. Yoongi will exceed them.

The food fills the place in him where love should be (with you they might as well be the same thing). Outside the window in the stately garden sits with not a leaf or branch out of place, you’re similar, accept for a single strand of hair that escapes it’s careful confines. In another world, Yoongi might tug all of your hair free from its pins. let it hang around your face pretty and wild. In another world you would sit on the same side of the table.

You both watch golden hour fade to blue. It feels nice to sit like this, maybe it's not interesting. But it’s the companionship that you’ve both been craving.

Yoongi can’t see you as much as he’d like but Monday and wednesday afternoons are reserved solely for you. Partially because on this day Geumjae has to attend to his business of the gang and it's the only time you're both free from him. The Min’s have always been in charge of opium, heroin, and cocaine, and the shipments are regular. Usually, you have a good block of time to spend with Yoongi, so he can reassure himself you’re not hurt.

But not all hurts can be physically seen, he doesn't know how he should broach the topic of you running away with you. It's one of a dozen goals he has at this point to disrupt the movement of the family. It has to be done slowly over time of course, no one can second guess Yoongi's motives. It has to look like he's helping even if it's anything but.

Faking your death would be an easy option, Yoongi could easily say you couldn't be trusted, procure a body that looks like yours, and plant it somewhere- fire could take care of dna and dental records. No one would question it if Yoongi was at the helm of the operation.

That way- you might be able to slip away unscathed. He’s got a fair bit of money he could lend you, maybe not enough to buy you a new life but certainly enough to start. He could make sure you disappear into the hazy backdrop and carve a new life for yourself.

But somehow, the idea of you leaving leaves a strange taste in his mouth. He doesn't like the plan in its entirety. But he can’t figure out what about it sets him off- makes him feel uneasy.

The rest of the families jostlings for power gets worse as the time goes on, and they get closer and closer to the 120 day mark. He helps the ahn’s carry out a deal that almost goes south and misses two meetings with you in a row.

more and more of the families want to have Yoongi supervise, want him to see how each of their candidates behave in hopes of swaying him in their direction. But a good portion of them are either too young, too stupid, or too disinterested in actually leading- lead to the post by their parents and heads of house.

The Ahn’s are in charge of weed and meth and prescription drugs, the Moon’s guns, the Kim faction in charge of prostitution, and the others- one in charge of shipment, another in charge of hushing the money and turning it legitimate at one of their many casinos. One murder for hires, the other for cleaning that murder.

12 families in total. A few of them have intermingled enough that there are blood relations on both sides. Yoongi’s mother was a Moon before she married his father. The blood mixing is kept track of carefully, with no need for unintended incest. there is a dating pool of eligible young omegas and alphas. Orchestrated by the grannies and omega heads of the house. The more they intermarried, the better, the less likelihood of fission they'd have down the line.

There are a few arranged marriages each year, one gets announced at a family dinner. The moon head of house and the kim head of house shake hands, the perfect picture of a business deal.

Which is probably why most of the grannies don't like you, you've squashed their plans of having their third or fourth in line omega grandchildren marry a head of house. Yoongi doesn't have to ask himself why Geumjae chose you. It's clear.

You're as beautiful as you are easy to get along with, more than one man has been tempted to possessive anger by a countenance as graceful as yours. When Yoongi comes to check on you you've always got something prepared.

You need too, because that's the only sure fire way you’ve ever found that made Geumjae’s anger immediately subside. A way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and it’s your only way to safety.

You learned after the first day you don’t have something prepared, that Yoongi doesn't mind if you don't have the food ready when he walks in. "I-I'm sorry- they're taking too long to cook- I dont know what went wrong and-" Yoongi's presence is so soothing, like a fresh breath of air as he swoops into your kitchen, opening the oven and checking it while you watch anxiously.

"It looks like it needs a minute, do you want to teach me how to make frosting?" it's the first time anyone cooked with you in years, and Yoongi dons your apron so easily. Letting you tie it behind his back. There are little strawberries embroidered along the hem, and it contrasts with the dark silk of his button down.

He’s got nice shoulders, you realize, ones that are wider than you first thought. for a second, a vision pops into your head of you wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your front to his warm back, burying your face and rubbing your nose along his hairline. But you shake it off. When Yoongi’s not looking you press your cold hands to your cheeks to try and calm down.

Now every Wednesday and friday you've come to look forward to his visits, a few recipes set out for him to decide which one he wants to make with you. You often wait for him at the door, ready to bounce ideas off of him.

One Wednesday- you'd opened the door to find your husband. And he'd taken the cookbook and slapped you across the face with it. Yoongi and you hadn't cooked that day. No- that day he'd made soup while he made you sit at the counter with a cold cloth piled with ice to your cheek.

"I'm sorry I can't make it better." He'd said, breath uneven. But he’d made you soup- and that's more than anyones done for you in a long time.

There isn't much that soup can heal, but it makes you feel unbearable warm that Yoongi will even try. You know it could result in hurt for him and his pack. he talks about them alot. Endless little tidbits about people you will likely never meet- it's better than talking about other things; like the drugs in the study a few feet from here, or the illegal business of the family.

It seems you both crave domesticity. Both need a little sliver of gentleness in your week. And you find it in each other on stolen afternoons. Sometimes- he's the only reason why you smile that day.

Today, you're baking a cake, and your body relaxes with Yoongi's next to you. Most of the time when he comes over you’re making something for Geumjae. Yoongi has seen the way he gets when he comes home- angry and ready to take his anger out on you calmed by the sweets you proffer with shaking hands.

You stumble when he moves away, and Yoongi’s startled when he catches your shoulder. “Woh- you okay?” you feel dizzy and cushiony. “I’m fine,” you say- because that’s all you can say, Yoongi’s eyes are discerning when he ducks down to your level. His hands are still on your shoulders- and you feel so starved- maybe not for human contact but for love.

You can’t resist leaning into his hands. “Have you eaten anything today?” he asks, like he already knows what particular method of harm you’ve chosen to inflict on yourself today. Though it’s not your fault at all. Yoongi knows by the way you duck out of his eye contact that you haven’t eaten a single thing.

Yoongi makes you eat something when you confess you haven’t for several days, because Geumjae had complained you’d gained a little weight on your honeymoon, and he also sees you nearly dry heave when you see your husband in the door, come home early. Geumjae knows Yoongi is here, when he visits and when he leaves, but it still startles the both of you. Geumjae has the forethought to Feign concern. His thumb on your tongue when you open your mouth to reply- keeping your words back forcefully.

Yoongi leaves, but shakes in his rental car outside, unable to leave you in that house where he knows you’re being hurt, where you’re dying slowly. He’s not sure if Geumjae is just honestly abusive or if he’s actually trying to kill you.

He takes you out of the house for as long as he can just to make sure you’re safe. Until Geumjae comes and finds you- and drags you back to that house that has become a prison.

But soon- you won’t even come outside when Yoongi comes knocking. gone are the days of easy baking. Now you can’t even manage that. It gives you too much anxiety. Yoongi has worried after you pushing the food around your plate enough times. And after the first time he refused your sweets if you wouldn’t eat them too you’d stopped cooking for him altogether.

Yoongi wishes he’d never said anything at all, never tried to play hardball with you. It’s not the way to get around this. He can’t convince you to eat when you won’t. When the idea of putting on another pound makes you shake in fear and anxiety.

“Come away with me, just for a day- please, please sweetheart just come outside” Yoongi is not a man who begs often, but for you he will.

Your hands stay fisted in his sleeve, eyeing the door warily “I can’t, He’ll get mad at me- you know he will Yoongi.” Yoongi swallows and then guides you to the fine sitting room. He knows just from sitting on the couches that they’ve been cleaned of blood recently. The type of cleaning solution the family uses has a peculiar nutmeg pumpkin scent.

He wonders if it was yours. And shakes. trembles with the force of his anger. quashing it in a second when your face turns up at him. Worried that he’s angry at you. He forces himself to think of happier things forces himself to smell like chocolate to soothe you. It's hard, but not impossible. And he's rewarded when you sink into the cushions, you can’t hold yourself up right now. Your body sagging into the cushions like you have nothing left.

You’ve got more bruises today, new ones, and he can tell by the way that you’re holding yourself that there are probably more unhidden. He extends a hand to touch your cheek, to get a look at the purple ones by your eye.

A voice that sounds suspiciously like Namjoon’s warns Yoongi of the kind of trauma that can result in ocular damage and he’s concerned- his instincts are screaming at him too soothe you. Maybe a nip to your scent gland if he was brave or a good cuddle if he was stupid enough to think you could both get away with it. Omegas are supposed to love cuddling and nest making and Yoongi doesn't think he’s ever seen you do either of those things. Omegas only nest in places they feel safe.

He can’t do what he wants, so he goes to the kitchen and gets an icy cloth, lifting it to your cheek and this time. You let Yoongi dab at it. You shift, and all of a sudden your knee is touching the outside of his. “Come here. I’ve got to get the ones on your shoulder.”

As much as closeness is a bad idea, it also feels good. You and Yoongi don’t talk. Mostly because he knows you can’t say anything positive. Only more of what he’s come to expect. The lies you tell yourself just as much as you tell him. “it’s getting better Yoongi it really is- it’s not nearly as bad as it was before you got here- And really- I do it to myself by going outside when he’s so worried about something happening to me. he gives me clear rules and im a bad omega by not following them.”

You’re so poisoned. Your worldview so skewed. You keep thinking that as long as it doesn't get any worse. You can make it better. And all the words that Yoongi wants to say are kept at bay by how honestly and ardently you hope; “you know that’s not really why he wants to keep you here right? That keeping you protected is all a disguise for what he really wants- to control you. to own you”

Your abuse goes deeper than anything physical Yoongi realizes when you even refuse comfort saying, “I don’t deserve it” when he offers it. Even when he can get a read on your scent- how you’re practically reaching out for anything to hold onto.

Yoongi watches you disappear through his fingers, like smoke or steam. the softness you’ve shown him going away as the abuse gets worse.

You become more and more silent as the weeks go on. During The weekly family dinners, you look more and more thankful that no one asks you to speak. Even Yoongi across the table who can't tear his eyes away from you. He has to keep his seat- not make an issue out of it under the hawk-like eyes of the heads of the family.

If he extends his legs as far as he can go without slouching in his chair, he can get his ankle side by side with yours. Your skin feels cold most of the time. Most of the time that you’re not covered with bruises Geumjae forces you to wear increasingly more low-cut things. Shorter skirts. He can tell you’re uncomfortable with what you’re wearing by the way that you fidget. But Yoongi guesses that it's just another way for him to control you.

When- he sees you next- and you’re vacant. Nothing behind your eyes that looks like life. You stare blankly as the weeks go on, you barely even flinch when Geumjae hurts you. Why flinch when you’re already expecting it. If anything the times that he touches you gently surprise you more.

When Geumjae invites him in and you’re just sitting there, you don’t meet Yoongi’s gaze when he says your name- replying in a soft voice that only barely shakes when Geumjae prompts you to speak. A doll, perfectly trained. Sitting pretty and slutty in the clothes that your husband has picked out for you. “See Yoongi? I told you she only needed a firm hand- she’s as good as tamed now.”

You need help- and Yoongi can’t ignore it. He doesn’t know when he started to fall in love with you. Whether it was the time when he visited during another spring rainstorm and you strip him of his dripping clothes and clad him in softer ones- not clothes from your husband- that much he can tell.

In all reality you don’t have that much of a height difference, it’s just you curling in on yourself that adds to the illusion that you’re so much slighter than him. You are slighter. The soft swells you had when he first met you are gone now. The clothes that drown you out hanging on his frame delicately as you smooth the soft fabric over his shoulders, holding on for a second like you want him close before you let go.

Yoongi feels like he smells like you when he’s covered in the rain, imagines for a moment that you’ve pulled him close and scent marked him. He Leaves his windows cracked on the nights that it rains and doesn’t snow and closes his eyes and imagines that you’re here.

He still hasn’t figured out what you smell like when you're happy.

Does he fall in love with you because of the way you touch him when you can manage it- when no one is there to see? Maybe. He treasures the secret brush of your hand on his forearm that makes his whole body shiver. Makes him lean in close.

The day comes where you come over to the hallowed beta ground with tears in your eyes, holding a dishcloth to the gash under your jaw. It’s a deep mark, from A thrown glass and it probably needs stitches. It bleeds so much that Yoongi has to give you a change of clothes. A sweatshirt so large on you that it dusts your knees. It makes you smell like him and if the situation where any less dire it would make Yoongi purr.

Yoongi wishes he could call Namjoon- wishes it hadn’t been months since he’d seen his pack- missing them aches like Yoongi is missing something in his chest, something vital, whatever connects his head to his heart missing. Namjoon would know what to do- would know what to say and how to get you out of here. He’d soothe your pain and your aches better than Yoongi ever could.

And Seokjin and jimin would know how to comfort you when you shake so bad that Yoongi can barely do more than dab at it with a cloth. Try to make sure it’s clean of all the glass shards. Taehyung and Hoseok would know how to make you smile after this and Jungkook, Jungkook would hold around your waist. Yoongi is useless at this without them.

They must be going crazy without Yoongi there; he wishes he could reach out. Just to make sure they knew he was all right.

They’d love you, he’s sure of it.

While He picks the last of the glass fragments out of your hair he voices what he’s wanted to say for months. He’s tired of dancing around it. “You know- I could get you out of here if you wanted. If you asked, I’d make it happen.”

You recoil like Yoongi’s the one to throw a glass in your face. “I can’t- I can’t leave Yoongi- He’ll get better once you name him Don- then he just won't be so angry all the time right? And he’ll be out of the house so much it will hardly feel like we’re even married.”

You look like you’re begging Yoongi to reassure you. When you both know that nothing is going to change, some people are just rotten to the core. And Yoongi can’t be forceful with you when you look like you might run out of here just as quickly as you came. Yoongi wonders how long it will take Geumjae to find you and how badly he’ll hurt you this time.

He doesn’t even speak gentle words anymore or try to tell you that it will be the last time he hits you like he used to. Now you both know there will only be more of this- more of you trapped by his blood. Unless you trust Yoongi.

If you trust Yoongi.

Yoongi speaks- trying to figure out what will keep you here the longest, just as long as he can keep you out of harm's way. “You don’t deserve this sweetheart- you deserve to be loved” Yoongi sees from the way you recoil- he must have touched on something sensitive. A soft spot or an open wound that Geumjae had made in you.

How many times as he screamed at you that you’re worthless. You won’t show Yoongi it, but there's a scar going down your stomach. Each letter hurt when he carved them into your body. Worthless- written on you in scar tissue. There are countless other scars that he doesn’t know about. The worst are the mental ones.

“Who’s going to love me Yoongi? Not when I’m like this,” you gesture to yourself, failing to meet his eyes. Holding yourself like it’s the only thing that can give you comfort. And all Yoongi can think is that there is nothing about you that deserves the utter disgust in your voice- the low self-esteem might be something that you hadn’t meant to show him. Another side effect of the abuse. damage that goes deeper than any physical bandage or medicine can heal.

And it goes without saying- his whispered confession is true as he holds a cold cloth to your bruises and cuts- he hopes his words will soothe that spot too. Any and all damage his brother has done, Yoongi wants to heal.

“I could love you.”

You shoot up, standing so quick that the blood rushes to your head and you teeter, you can’t see Yoongi’s concern through the tears clouding your vision. Shaking your head vehemently. Your shin knocking against the coffee table hard as you back away from him. His hands go out to grab you but he thinks better of it. You don’t look like you want to be touched right now.

“You can’t Yoongi- he’ll kill you too- and I won’t be the reason why you die- I won’t.” you gasp the words, “You need to get back to your pack, they need you.”

“But you need me too.” You do, that you can’t argue with no matter how much you want to. “Don’t tell me it’s too late to save you when we both know it’s not.”

“It’s not, but I wish I was beyond saving so that you wouldn’t try.”

“You think I have a choice? That I meant to love you?” Yoongi realizes his mistake the second you flinch. Sometimes words can hurt too, can hurt worse than physical damage. When your voice goes soft rather than Forceful. Here Yoongi is, trying to make it better and only succeeding in making it worse.

You duck away from him, hair covering your face. You don’t grab your jacket when you make your way towards the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a burden, let me make it easier for you” you fold the cloth, put it on the kitchen counter and walk out the door.

By the time Yoongi runs after you, you’ve already disappeared down the garden path and into the maze of neon lights. Sinking into the crowds of drunk college kids and businessmen hoping to nurse their hurts in a bottle of liquor. You disappear like a shadow, or a wraith. like you’re already a ghost, already dead.

That night Yoongi dreams of you again. it’s the same dream as before, with the skylight and the red blanket that feels silky and cool like blood.

Only this time- you’re the one with the gun.

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tracksidequeen · 2 years

Text

Trust Me?

a/n: This one has it all.. protective Lewis, Dom Lewis, sweet aftercare Lewis. I LOVED writing this !!! I hope you like it as well <3

Summary: After you get ambushed by reporters Lewis feels guilty, but later that night he fucks his frustration out on you.

Request: We definitely need a dominant Lewis! Fic.I don't even mind about the general premise of the story but I just need angry, dominant Lewis followed by really sweet aftercare. - @bekybekybeky

Warnings: Dom!LewisHamilton, rough smut, spanking, spitting,- sweet aftercare and delicate, loving Lewis.

Words: 1.7K

For the first time Lewis takes you to the paddock, making your relationship public for the whole world to see. He was proud to finally be able to show you off, and you were proud to stand besides you man. You walk into the paddock as an absolute power-couple. The stares from everyone, the gaping mouths, and whispers said enough. You left an impression on everyone, and Lewis loved it.

He had to do some race-prep with Bono, and you decided to just look around the paddock, explore a bit in the unfamiliar environment he calls his second home. As you’re walking you notice people are taking pictures from afar, but all of a sudden you hear footsteps running up from behind. You feel your heart pound in your throat, because within seconds you're surrounded by dozens camera's and herds people shouting questions your way. Frantically you look around trying to find a way out of there, but they were all blocking your way.

"EY! What the fuck do you think you're doing!" You see Lewis running up to the crowd.

"Get the hell away from her!"

He takes your arm and pushes away then men circled around you. Skilfully he manoeuvres you away from the herd of people and takes you to a quiet place. "Are you alright, love?" Worried eyes scan yours as you smile reassuringly. "Don't worry, Lewis. Baby, I'm completely fine." He shakes his head in anger.

You were completely fine by now, you were just taken by surprise for a moment. However, Lewis... you tried to calm him down, but he was so worked up. After talking for a while he had to leave to continue his race-prep, but he was clearly not okay.

At the end of the day both of you sat quietly in the backseat of the car on your way back to the hotel. The frustrated expression on his face said enough. One hand was on your leg which he didn’t let go for a second, a protective instinct you know he has.

When you enter the hotel room he slams the door shut a little too hard, making you flinch. "Babe, calm down,” you say in another attempt to ease his nerves. “Don't be angry at them. I mean.. I'm not saying it's alright, but they were just doing their jobs."

He trows his bag on the sofa and sits on the arm rest, clenching the fabric with his hand. "I know, I know. I'm also not angry at them anymore, I took care of that already." A light chuckle left his mouth, and he shakes his frowning head.

"Then what's going on? Talk to me, baby." You can see he is fuming, eyes filled with anger and his muscles tensed. "I'm so angry at myself- Sweetie, it's my fault you got caught in that situation." He walks over to you and roughly grabs your waist, but you know he means well. "I should have been more careful. Sweetie, you're mine and I want to protect you, but I failed."

You cup your hands around his face. "Yes, baby I'm all yours, and I trust you- that you'll keep me safe and that you’ll protect me."

These words in combination with his anger brought out his dominant side within seconds. He placed his hand in the nape of your neck and grabbed your hair lightly, with the other hand he pulled you in closer by the waist. His lips hovered above yours. “Do you trust me?” he says with a husky low voice that suits his British accent perfectly. You nod ‘yes’ and he kisses you passionately, roughly, not holding back.

He pulls you by the arm taking you to the bedroom and sits on the foot of the bed, with you standing in front of him.

“Strip for me, babygirl.”

You turn your back to him, and while you look over your shoulder you slowly unzip your dress. Sensually you sway your hips from side to side to let the thin fabric slide past, and you bend down to step out of it. With your ass sticking in the air towards Lewis, you look back at him. You saw him stroking the bulge in his pants, not for one second taking his eyes off you.

“Fuck, you look so good when you do that,” he growls.

He stood up and grabbed your ass with a loud smack, and the clinking of his rings against your skin made you wet between your folds. He took off his shirt and with your back against his naked chest his hand traced the wet spot in your panties.

Both hands held your waist and he bucked his hips onto you, pressing his big hard cock between your cheeks and pushed it up and down your ass.

“I know you want it all inside, don’t you?” He bites the back of your shoulder making you breath unsteadily and he slaps you ass.

“Bend over on the bed for me.”

His eyes follow you as you walk over to the bed, leaning both knees against the side to hold yourself steady, and bend over. You close your eyes and bite your lip, not knowing what comes next.

You hear the brush of leather and metal clinking of his belt. The sound of his zipper being undone and the denim sliding against his skin made you quiver in anticipation. His footsteps approach you and before you could understand what what going on you feel his teeth clenching on the sensitive skin of your ass.

He took the lace fabric between his teeth and slid it down your legs with his mouth. While kissing up the back of your thigh he kneaded your ass, and soft moans left your mouth.

“You gotta use your words, love.”

You muster up all your power to try and form a coherent sentence. “Fuck baby- fuck all your frustration out in me.”

“My babygirl is so eager- good girl.”

He traces the tip of his cock against you drenched folds and bucks his hips to apply more pressure. The mix of your wetness and his pre-cum made him enter you smoothly. Without holding back he split you open and pressed himself against you, deep inside you and your walls fluttered around his shaft.

“Fuck, baby you feel so good around my cock.”

He grabs your hair, pulling your head back, and as he holds his hips still, you push your hips backwards thrusting onto his cock. With every pound you feel your pussy clench tighter around him. One hand in your hair and the other grabbing your ass, he pulls you in deep and all you can do is let out a cry of joy. He grinds his cock deep in your slit making you feel every inch of pleasure.

“Get up baby.”

Lewis was still holding a hand full of your hair and used it to guide you up, with your back against his chest. From one moment to the next he started pounding at an unrelenting tempo, while his finger circled your clit. Euphoria shrieks through your body and your walls start contracting against his hardness, but he doesn’t slow down for one second.

“Fuck- babygirl,” he grunts in your ear, before he flips you on the bed facing him. With one motion he grabs you by the waist and enters you again, sending shivers down your spine. Whilst thrusting into your sensitive wetness, he pinches you mouth open and without losing eye contact he spits on your tongue and kisses you deeply.

Chest to chest, kissing and biting you neck, he pounds into you full force. You feel his breathing become unstable and his growls in your ear become deeper. Close to your peak of pleasure you lock your legs around his hips, allowing him to reach a new depth and you feel his steady thrusts become more erratic.

“Fuck!!”

You bite down his shoulder as your walls start milking his twitching cock and with your muscles tensing uncontrollably, you arch your back and reach you climax moaning loudly. Lewis pounds into you with a powerful thrust, his head tilts back and his hand clasping your waist, and cums all over your stomach.

Completely out of breath he lets himself fall all over you, and you hold him in your arms, kissing his glistening forehead. He nuzzles his head into you neck, as you feel his heartbeat on your chest calm down with every second that passes. “That was amazing,” you hear him say with a muffled voice.” You are amazing, love.”

He strokes your hair and kisses the tip of your nose, before standing up to get a towel to clean you up. The soft towel feel good against your skin and he traces his hand all over your body with a look of admiration in his eyes. “Hun, have I ever said how beautiful you are?”

“Baby, you tell me that every day.” He shakes his head displeased. “Hmm, no that’s not enough... from now on I’ll tell you every hour. That way you’ll never forget.” You run your hand through his braids and can’t help but smile at him.

Lewis had a way of letting out his dominant side, and taking all control, but as soon as you reached your climax he always became so soft and sweet. Making sure you enjoyed every second as much as he did, and making sure you felt comfortable and loved.

He whispered softly in your ear, “you want to take a relaxing bath with me?”

“Yes, I’d love that.” He rolls off the bed and after a while you hear the water running in the bathroom. You walk into the steaming bathroom where Lewis was busy laying out all your bath oils and scented candles. “Which one do you want babe?”

You walk up to him, hugging him from behind and tracing your kisses on the outline of his tattoos. “The new vanilla scent you got me is really good. Let’s do that one.” He puts a few droplets in the water and steps into the steaming bath. With his arm reached out, he invited you to come sit between his legs. You step carefully in the bath to sit down, while he traces his wet hand on your ass, up you waist and onto your neck. He massages your shoulders, knowing exactly which muscle he had to focus on to make you feel relaxed.

With you back against his chest you look back, up at him. “Babe, I love you so much.”

Exposing his pearl whites he smiled from cheek to cheek, and places a delicate kiss on your lips.

“You are the love of my life, sweetie.”

————

Masterlist + More Lewis Hamilton x Reader:

Hotness in Monaco

A Little Patience, Birthday Boy (requested)

The Perfect Night ✨new✨

————

Tagsquad: @wetforwolff @panic-on-the-disco @black-repunzel99 @babywolff @amylizzy91 @misswolff @amylizzy91 @reveliodemure @bekybekybeky @ritajammer21 @burningcloudcookielover @laura-naruto-fan1998 @washababe @piceous21 @fede18 @amoregia @jujugrins @hereforthegoodtimesx @nomnomnibblenibble @dr3-fangirl @isentyouanemail @langdonsluxiouslocks @liadamerondjarin @vroom-vroom-bitch @kepanchillysbxtch @bekybekybeky @tiredbuthappy

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 smut #formula 1 #dom!lewis

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pufflocks · 3 years

Note

Ok ok lady kuroo oneeeeee..

Kuroo fucking bottom male y/n in the school bathroom by pressing y/n again a wall and just fucking his brains out

Summary: Skipping with your boyfriend sounds fun. Right ? You were being rather bratty during lunch.. Maybe some discipline in those dirty stalls would whip you up straight. ♡

"-Come on, speak up. You were just saying how you'd much rather be doing something else." -T.K ❣

An: Please excuse errors. I most definitely rushed this out my drafts.

Warning: Degrading • Dacryphilia • Minor Gagging • Minor Slapping • proof read

Cast: Bottom!M!Reader x Tetsurou Kuroo

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

It was lunch time. Or passing time some others call it as for some people would play on their devices or talk to their friends.

That's exactly what you were doing earlier, you decided to drag out the topic of how you think your boyfriend is just so protective in your conversation.

"Sometimes I wanna fuckin' breath-"

That's what you said, no ?

You were sitting next to and telling this to your boyfriends bestfriend, Kenma. He however just gave a light sigh saying something how could he help. Fingers diddling with his switch frantically. He obviously wasn't much help in situations like this, you know, but your mind was side tracked with your boyfriends glare.

'Hm..'

He was eyeing you down word for word as he silently watched you across your guys' table with your friends.

Watching you move shy hair strands from his bestfriends face and giving Kenma tips on his game. Not tha you had any particular idea in the game.

Why are trying so hard to be buddy buddy with him ? If you didn't even interest Kenma in any sexual form or other.

Tetsurou most definitely wouldn't let this just go by easily.

Lev only looked at his friend beside him then back at you in awe.

Yaku on the other hand had his eyes darted in his lap to his phone. No need to be in this conversation.

'Did he actually say that-?' He thought.

The chopsticks in Kuroos hand slipped from his fingertips as he chuckled under his breath. He didn't think you were this fucking down bad to get some dick.

All you really had to do was just ask. How fucking hard could that task be ? Could have easily fuck after school or at one of your guys' house. Gladly.

No doubt you would be coming back to this table with a dazed expression.

"Meet me in the bathroom, bubs." He whispered to you as he got up from his seat his dark aura following him out of the lunch room doors.

Yaku rose his head from his lap as his eyes darted your way, in disbelief, you were giggling happily as if you weren't about to get folded in half.

You got up from your seat leaving your barely eaten meal and two stunned friends, and one who's eyes were glued to his switch.

'Which one did he go to-' Thought unable to finish as you got pulled into a hard warm chest of someone you could only guess your lover.

You sensed his tense form as you shyly looked up to his face to only be met with dark pools of jealousy known as his eyes.

A shiver transferred to your head all the way down to your toes as a boner slowly began to form in your pants. Even when he was jealous and frustrated he could always be seen getting flat out drunk on his cat like existence alone.

And right now all you wanted from his noir existence was a dead. Good. Fucking.

"There something on my face or something ? Or are you imagining me as my bestfriend instead of me ? Your fucking boyfriend."

His words felt cold with a tinge of heated anger. He couldn't be truthfully angry at you could he ?

The only response he got from you was a shy shake of your head 'no'.

Gotta play like you didn't want your arse pounded like a dog in heat just a second ago.

You thought about your next moves as your pants got tighter by the second and your now playful and mischievous boyfriend glared down at your form.

'Ah–'

Not all the time did you see the man get hot and bothered up front like this, not in school at least.

Close within eachother faces, hot tension in the air. The heat coming off his body specifically was close to a bonfire in the summer, and you were his slightly charred marshmallow being close to the heat.

Melting into something deliciously horny.

" 'M just horny 'n wanna be fucked really hard today-" You whined. Never being the one to exactly whine and beg, but the last time you masturbated was about half a month ago !

It wasn't your fault he was so busy and such with volleyball though. He msdevsyre to have time for you every so often. Outside and inside of school he was the best boyfriend.

"Oh. Didn't notice you were so greedy. Why not ask me after school ?" He bluntly stated. Funny his he asked this and your erection is straining against fabric as you speak.

You tugged on the bottom of his uniform catching him off guard slightly. "If you don't fuck me right now, Tetsuro Kuroo I might just consider getting with Kenma !" You barked.

Tetsurou only smirked like the mischievous damn cat he was.

Leaning closer down to your face, "Alright then. When we get back from the stalls, I dont wanna here a word about the cum leaking out of your abused ass." He whispered for your ears only as he flicked a slightly erect nipple outside of your school flannel shirt.

¤ y.p.o.v ¤

"Yes, yes." I mumbled. My nipples were being stupidly played with.

"Bathroom.." I said. He only nodded, retreating his hands.

Making our way down to the bathroom was audibly quiet. Only our footsteps being heard throughout the silent halls.

My eyes skimmed his posture and tall stature as I noticed his bulge. Soon enough it was going to be forcefully filling me in some dirty stall.

I look up at Tetsu and see his unusual stoic face fall into something familiarly mischievous as he caught on to me.

The sexual appeal and aura was never lost as we made our destination. Thankfully, we made it to the bathrooms without me jumping on him right there and then.

"We're here and let's hurry this up, pretty boy. I dont feel like getting in trouble for fucking you between classes again." He stated. I only scoffed and chuckled lightly.

At this point I dont care if we skipped a few minutes just to fuck. Did it once, I'm sure we wouldn't get caught twice.

Walking in the bathrooms, the first thing I do is pull him down for a kiss. Reminding him that I'm still feeling it.

He chuckled in the kiss. Wrapping his rather long arms around my waist, picking me up as I tossed my legs over his waist. His muscular body holding me up as if I weighed like air.

"Bubs.. About fucking you into these stalls. You know why I'm gonna go rough right," I nodded slowly. Giving him a few small hickies on his neck.

Faking my innocence for a better fuck is always worth while. He took that as a thumbs up as he once again let out that noir chuckle of his.

"That's good to know babes~"

Further movements were heated skin to skin touches and kitten licks and bites of each other. Some movements pornos could never mimic.

His calloused fingers gripping my throat, forcing eye contact as he smirked on how wrecked I already looked. I would say it was embarrassing if my mind wasn't attracted to his knee gliding across my tight pant front.

"Looks like you need to get that attitude fucked out of you from earlier, hm ?"

My mind barely focusing on his wolfish voice as he licked a long strong underside of my jaw, making me visibly shake and quiver slightly. The contact we shared in this cramped stall has me gasping for air the more I think of someone barging in. Any second I could literally bust thinking of how he would fuck me harder, the two pairs of feet on ther other side of the stall merely nonexistent to us.

"Tetsu please- I want it really bad~ I was bad wasnt I ?" I was becoming desperate as I slithered my hand down to his own very visible, erection.

He groaned lightly before chuckling and kissing me once more. I know he knows that my actions with his bestfriend weren't intentionally to hurt him, but what if I had fucked his bestfriend-

My thought was intruded as he flipped me over the stall door and shucking my pants off my body. Doing the exact same to his own as he harshly pushed into me.

I choke out a long groan of surprise as he held me against his clothed chest. "Ah-! Wait Tetsu!~" I was hushed by long fingers. Poking and prodding on my tongue to my throat.

He whispered in my ear, "Shh, now what if we get caught and I get in trouble for fucking you ?~", nibbling on my earlobe tantalizingly slow.

Hot breath we shared as his dick ushered in and out of my puckered hole. Minding you that we had no lube so the burn of him dragging himself in and out of me was a blinding pain.

My hands made attempt of pushing him away. Drool just at the corner of my mouth, fingers still at work.

He got the idea, pulled out to the tip, and lazily drooled on his shaft. His shape successfully returning to it's desired place.

"Can't have you hurting too bad. Even though this is a well deserved punishment~" He smirked at his own comment.

Right. I got myself in this situation and every second of it I loved. So close to the spot aswell-

"NGH–! Hah~ Shit Tetsu~ Right- Right thereee~!!" I shut my eyes closed tightly. My dick dripped precum as every few thrusts directed to my prostate.

"I found your spot, hm ?~ My baby finna cum soon ?~ Want me to jack you off or should I not, keep in mind your not off the hook, love.~" He mocked as his hands gripped my left leg, sandwiching between the stall door and my lover.

His other hand on my dick refusing of ejaculation. The new angle and pressure on my cock making my head fall back.

God I felt like I was going dumb and on his dick !

"PLEASE— I NEE- AH!~ I NEEF TO CUHM!~" I babbled. I doubt he heard me clearly though

Tetsu spat in his hand as his hand rapidly started to glide across my shaft. The slick palm feeling heavenly on my member. It was all so overwhelming !

Drool finally making it's way down my chin and hicked up throat.

"Bubs- Fuck-! Babe I'm finna cum in this sweet ass. Better keep in too~ Let Kenma and everyone else know you have a boyfriend~" He grunted near my ear as I frantically nodded my cockhead probably a pretty red now, completely swollen and wet.

"Cu- Cuhminggg!!~" I slurred as a particular harsh thrust shoved me off the edge and the knot in my stomach grew and snapped.

I felt a gush of his semen flow in my abused hole as he grunted and stilled ministrations. His cock head snug on my sore prostate.

"I- I hope you remember my words from earlier bubs. Wasn' playing." He scoffed as he checked out my blotchy neck and slobber slicked face.

The sight, I'm sure was obscene as he spread my cheeks. Cock head only inserted by the tip in hopes none of his hit substance fell on the bathroom tiles.

"Fuck Y/n.. Do this shit again I might just have to fuck you in front of Kenma~" He said tauntingly, slapping my ass aggressively as I eeked I surprise.

"I'm gonna leave first and you get cleaned up alright ? Don't want people to notice that we fucked like rabbits in the stalls." He said helping me with my clothes back on my body. I was too braindead to do about anything.

" Kiss.." My words coming out slurred. He looked up at me as he was helping me put my slacks on now. Leaning in giving me a long kiss.

My body leaned into his as I dragged my arms around his neck. Humming in satisfaction as I parted the sensually deep contact.

"You're so cute after sex !" He exclaimed as I ruffled his hair giggling now off my high.

He cleaned up after a few more shared pecks and left first as I sat on the toilet for about 6 minutes.

I checked my phone fir the time and I saw that it was nearing the end of the lunch hour.

'Fuck !'

I splashed some water on my face quickly before ushering to my next period. Being early wasn't so bad I suppose.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x male reader #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo testuro #smut #haikyuu smut #bottom reader #bottom male reader #degrading #choking #tw dacryphilia

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donat-senpai · 2 years

Text

Squid Game AU.

Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere!

Pairing: Yandere!Player!Kagami x Reader

tw: obsession, death of characters, description of the murder, swearing (little)

I almost brought myself to tears as I wrote this ._.

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine. We can handle it."

Kagami says this and puts his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. A lie is bitter. Should she continue to feed you with deception? The girl looks around dubiously at the other players. Then her gaze returns to your cheered face again and she realizes that she is standing. Anything is worth a happy sparkles in your eyes.

Kagami prefers not to think about what awaits you. She just comes up with clever tactics when the situation calls for it. Sometimes she does not do what is needed, but what she wants. In moments like this, she just pretends what it is tactic. As now, when she covered the disgusting face of this bastard and cut his throat with a quick, well-aimed movement. A piece of broken glass from a bathroom wrapped in a piece of T-shirt turned out to be an excellent weapon. These actions are dangerous. This can provoke another night riot. You may even get hurt in the process. Therefore, she is especially careful. She needs to render harmless this person before he harms you. This is a tactic to protect you. He was dangerous, and you didn't even notice what a dirty look he was throwing at you. You didn't notice how his hands itched when everyone was crowded and you got too close. You didn’t notice how he immediately asked to go to the restroom when you went there. Each time, Kagami was there, interfering with his plans. She will end it today. She's had enough.

The next night you lie with a girl on her bed. You are fast asleep. The game was especially hard today. But Kagami can't sleep. Her eyes got used to the darkness and she finally saw something that no one else had seen. Drawings of games on the walls. There are still many beds. This overlaps most of the drawings. But the girl sees enough. She sees geometric shapes and two human. And why didn't she think about it right away? It's so obvious. There can only be one winner.

Kagami is a cunning person. But today the game turned out to be trickier. It happened faster than she planned. She squeezes a pouch of glass beads and smiles regretfully at you. The look on your face breaks her heart, but she doesn't say anything. There is no point in lying further. Everything is clear. In this game, only one of you will cope. The girl remembers her promise to take care of you. Would it be a care to send you on to risk your life? Or is it better to leave you here. If she can't be there, then you won't last long. Perhaps you will lose in the next game. Or maybe you will reach the final and these cruel people will snatch the last grains of hope from your hands. They will leave you to die alone. Cold-blooded soldiers will put a bullet at you. They won't even remember your face. And she will not be there to comfort you in the last minutes of your life. None of these choices qualify as caring.

You are so distracted by your own pain that you do not notice its actions. Kagami holds out his hands, clenched into fists, and offers to solve everything at once. You just need to guess in which hand the bead is. You reluctantly point to her right hand. She opens her hand to reveal the cursed item. You win. In a panic, you ask for another round. The pink guard is slowly approaching you. He saw the agreement and the outcome of your game. Kagami hurts, but she smiles. This is the only time she thought about herself and realized that she could not leave you behind, even if it was best for you. She cannot take the future away from you. She doesn't need a life that doesn't have you. The girl shoves her pouch into your hand, along with the bead, and pushes it towards the exit. She orders you to win. For her, for herself, for anyone. Just survive.

The guard points a pistol at Kagami. She thinks of you for the last time. A lie is bitter. And the other glass bead in her left hand is very, very heavy. But she knows it's all for the happy sparkle in your eyes.ki

#miraculous ladybug x reader #yandere miraculous ladybug #squid game #mlb x reader #kagami tsurugi x reader #yandere x reader

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

One Last Time 06 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

‘‘ I swear I am going to have someone beat your ass Park Jimin!’’

‘‘ It’s not my fucking fault! I broke up with her but you lead her to the apartment knowing she’ll follow!’‘

‘‘ Damn it Jimin im going to kick your ass!’‘

Your eyes pop open just in time to see Jungkook on-top of Jimin hitting him repeatedly on the face while Jimin manages to push him off of him and begin his fist fight against him. He straddles Jungkook to the floor and punches are thrown left and right. Now the sudden headache of seeing the two brothers fight has began in your head and you cannot stand hearing the groaning and yelling between them. Bringing your hand up to signal them to stop, you realize they don’t even know you’ve awakened.

Jungkook on the other hand is not having it so he throws Jimin off of him harshly making Jimin groan. The way he grabs Jimin’s collar with venom fast strength finally gives you the courage to yell out to them.

‘‘ Stop! Damn it, you two are like literal fucking teenagers. Act your age!”

The both of them turn their heads toward you slowly. Jungkook drops his fist, which was going to connect with Jimin’s face. You take a good look at them. Freshly bruised from each-other. Great.

‘‘ You think fighting is going to solve this problem huh? Get over here now.” You say, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Jungkook gives Jimin a death glare before rushing to your side and feeling your forehead. You slap his hand away and pull him down by his shirt only for him to recieve a harsh slap to the forehead.

‘‘ Shit!” He stumbles back and rubs his forehead. He shoots you a glare, wanting to yell at you but doesn’t. You motion for Jimin to come to you too. He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

‘‘ I don’t think it’s necessary for you to do that..” He says, as if your death glare towards him isn’t enough to tell him you aren’t joking whatsoever.

He gets the memo when you disregard his comments before hanging his head low and bending down a little to your height. One slap against the forehead and two across the wrists.

‘‘ That’s for you fighting He was only looking out for me. The last two were for having a psychotic girlfriend who almost killed me. Look at my wrist!’‘

You hold them out to see two I.V’s, one for blood transfusion and the other a regular for nutrients on your right wrist. Both of them bandaged up which does need to be changed because of the old blood.

‘‘ I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would be this upset.’‘ Jimin says, hanging his head low. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him out of annoyance.

‘‘ Whatever. I already called my lawyer for your case. Since Isabel tried to attempt murder to you, you will win this case for sure.’‘ He proudly leans against the wall hoping to atleast crack a smile from you.

You don’t smile though. The last thing you need is another scandal. If this were to make the news and blogs right now then it could be a bad thing. You’ve just started your modeling career again and right now would be the worst time to have something like that.

Jimin leans on the wall with his hands in his pockets, still avoiding locking eyes with you which is something he usually does. Something tells you that he’s hiding something. Something that you just can’t put your finger on.

‘‘ The police will come shortly for witness statements and your statement. Then they’ll call for a court date as soon as possible.’‘ Jimin’s voice low, illuminating with a hint of sadness.

Out of curiosity you want to say something more. To ask him whats going on and why he’s acting rather like this. It’s really not like him. He’s hiding something for sure and you just cannot put your finger on it. You just agree and pull out your phone. A missed call from Ryan. You try texting her and she almost always responds immediately. This time she doesn’t. What’s really going on?

You don’t know but Ryan took it upon herself to pay Isabel a visit. Usually visitors aren’t allowed for people in holding but with a little sweet talk of hers she got to get atleast 10 minutes to talk. That’s all she needs. When it comes to you, her bestfriend, she never messes around. Hearing the news from Jungkook yesterday she almost went luncatic. Throwing things at him, calling his brother every disrespectful name in the book. Oh she hates him now for sure.

Jungkook had to stop her from going over to the hospital to beat his ass into a bloody pulp for causing you pain and getting together with that crazy girl just to break up with her. Ryan was heated.

But now she can take this heat and serve some to Isabel right now. She walks with confidence into the room. Nothing and nobody can stop her and if they even try, she’ll chew them up and spit them out. Catching a glimpise of Isabel sitting at the table with her hands cuffed and security next to her, Ryan shoots her a devious glare.

‘‘ What brings you here? I expected my boyfr-’‘

A harsh slam from her hands hit the table as she bends a little to her seated level, ‘‘ He’ not your fucking boyfriend. You were lucky I wasn’t there to beat your fucking ass.”

The guard tenses up at the sounds and sudden movements. Ryan notices, and decides to take her seat to calm down before she’s the one sitting behind the jail bars too.

‘‘ Ryan.. I thought we were friends?’‘ She frowns, pouting her lips while fake wiping tears away.

Ryan scoffs,shaking her head ever so slowly with a devilish grin on her face. “ We aren’t. Don’t let me catch you un-attended without your manager or body guard.. Isabel.’’

Isabel laughs one of her evil laughs, throwing her head back then coming back up, “ Oh how cute. Is this a threat from little ol’ you? Me and Jimin were doing just fine before your bestfriend had decided to enter his life again. I’m not the only bad guy here. She should know boundaries for taken men. Ex’s aren’t supposed to be firendly and lovey dovey. Spending nights and going everywhere with each other. Especially when one’s a famous idol with another idol girlfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“ Maybe you should take that up with your hoe of a boyfriend. He’s the one who can’t leave her alone.” She yells, inches away from Isabel’s face. The two stare at each other long and hard. Isabel is no match for Ryan though.

The guard clears his throat to break the two’s glares. The tension is thick in the air.

“ If you ever touch yn again, I’ll make sure you’re the one in the hospital this time around.”

‘‘ You’ll all see. I’ll win this court case. Trust me… there’s things you do not know.”

Ryan rolls her eyes, strutting her way out the room with the sound of her heels clicking right behind her. Consider the message recieved.

It’s been one week after the situation. In which in between those days you were dismissed from the hospital and have been in at Jimin’s house ever since. You didn’t want to be here. You want to be at home with your cat, Clara. Jungkook’s been going over to feed and play with her. Jimin kept pleading for you not to return home just yet because it could be a danger to you. It makes sense. You never know what Isabel has up her sleeve.

So you’ve been sitting here doing the same old thing everyday. Eat, watch movies and netflix tv shows, sleep, and repeat.

Jimin would come in and out of his home studio to check in on you. He still has to work on producing and singing his songs. He’d bring the food and your medicine he prepared per usual, kiss your forehead, and go right back out to producing his highly anticipated album.

It all seems fake to you. Something is off. Something is not being told to you. You can feel it in your gut but can’t put a finger on it.

‘‘ This is so cliche.’‘ You murmur to yourself, switching the flat-screen T.V off.

And as if on cue Jimin comes inside your- well his room with a glass of water and prescribed pain killers for you. The slight smile on his face makes you want to smile but you don’t.

‘‘ Smile for ocne yn. Do you not like staying here?’‘ He says, sitting next to you on the side of the bed and places the glass in your hands.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, taking the two pills out of his palm. “ No.. but be honest with me Jimin okay?”

His face turns a quick shade of pink then pale as if you had said the wrong choice of words at the wrong time. As if he had seen a ghost at this very moment. That’s not a good sign at all.

‘‘ Are you.. hiding something from me?’‘

The atmosphere is thick and silence fills the room. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t either. Your eyes meet his and for once they don’t pull away first.

Jimin doesn’t know how to break it to you though. It’s now or never.

‘‘ She will never leave me.”

You bite your lip hard, “ What do you mean?”

“ That she said that she’d do everything to ruin our relationship if we continue to persue one. She’d spready rumors about you to Dispatch. Make a scene whenver you’re near me. Anything she can do, she will do it.”

You don’t know how to take this all in. You knew Isabel was possesive but not this possesive. The thought of her doing things on purpose for you to make everyone hate you makes you want to cry. To just bawl your eyes out right here right now. You can’t.. you won’t do it.

You won’t give in because thats what she wants. To make you cry. To ruin your reputation and work. Jimin came back into your life and of course you don’t know what to do or how to deal with it. But this is what you wanted right? You’ve been longing for you and him to get a second chance. It’s you. You’re the one who’s been putting things off and not letting things go with the flow. Maybe he came back to you because he realized how wrong he was for cheating on you. For leaving you behind. For not seeing things for truly how it is.

You knew Isabel was bad luck from the beginning. Now is the time to try and take back what was originally yours. That will hurt her more than ever.

“ She needs to have a reality check. Not everything revolves around her.”

‘‘ I agree. Putting her behind bars might give her a reality check. It should serve her right for harming people.” Jimin sighs.

The silence is thick. You both don’t know what to say and it’s sure as hell awkward more than ever right now. Until that silence breaks.

‘‘ I feel like you aren’t being your true self to me. If we are getting things out now.”

His sudden comment makes you lift your head up from playing with the comforter. “ What do you mean?’’

‘‘ You.. don’t want to take actions on what you feel, say, or want to do with or about me. It’s killing me inside.”

He’s right. You do try to push your feelings aside no matter what the cause is. It’s just you trying to not set yourself up for hearbreak again. You do want him. You do want everything to do with him. Considering the things that happened in the past, it’s no doubt theres a fence guarding your heart from intruders.

You exhale out heavily, “ Im just.. scared.’’

‘‘ Of? “

‘‘ Being hurt again.”

Dead silence again. This time he’s the one trying to come up with words to redirect your view of him. Yes, he broke your heart in the worst way possible. He wants you to see he’s changed.

Jimin bites his lip, voice shaky when he begins talking again. ‘‘ How can I show you that i’m not the same anymore. Im not I promise you. I want you to see I have changed. I know it’s my fault. I destroyed you but let me fix it.”

It’s all come down to this. You’ve wanted this and now is the chance to get it. Now is the chance to have what was once yours. But the feeling of doubt had taken its course on you at the worst time.

‘‘ Jimin.. how do I know that for sure?’‘ You say, unintentionally fluttering your eyes at him. To you it’s to prevent from letting tears fall.

Jimin see’s it as that specific thing you used to do when you wanted him. When you craved him and would drop hints. To be completely honest, you do crave him. You do want him. Make-up sex was something you two used to do often. It was your toxic way of saying im sorry.

Somehow you want to put that toxic thing into action right now. As fucked up as it is, that’s how you two know you’re sorry towards each other. Actions speak louder than words.

He closes his eyes for a quick second before clenching his jaw to contain himself. Your weak spot.

‘‘ Stop doing that. Unless you want to start something you don’t want to finish.”

You smile just a little, hoping he’d get the memo. “ What if I do want to start and finish it..”

As if a car alarm went off, Jimin’s eyes pop back open with a suprised look. That’s the last thing he’d thought he’d be hearing from you. “ Are you sure about that? I mean we don’t have t-”

You lean in closer to where you guys are inches apart, his lips softly rubbing against yours. “ I’m all for it.”

Within seconds, Jimin’s shirt is removed off of you only revealing your blue panties which have became a little soaked with your wetness. He takes in the scent of you before his mouth connects with your thighs, slightly sucking to leave bruises on you.

‘‘ Jimin.. don’t tease me.” You sigh, laying fully down to spread your legs even more. He hums against your skin making you catch chills up and down your spine.

‘‘ That’s my specialty baby. You know that.” He trails a kiss with each word all the way down to your core where he dips a finger inside. You tense up attempting to close your legs. He doesn’t allow it, spreading them open harshly again.

‘’ Jimin-’‘ You barely utter before he begins to move his fingers in and out of you slowly. You let out a whine to try and make him go faster but it doesn’t work.

He comes up to your mouth and plants a wet, sloppy kiss. “ No whining. You’re gonna get what you want. Just relax baby.”

Is all he tells you before he goes back down to your core to tend to your desires.

The first lick between your legs is ever so gentle. Too gentle for you right now considering that you want release badly and Jimin knew exactly that. He opens his mouth and swirls his tongue up and down your slit. A groan leaves his mouth once he gets a taste of you which sends a vibration to your sensitive bud.

Each time his tongue laps against you your body jerked and shook but that only makes his tongue go faster. Sending you into a moaning and groaning mess as you tug on his hair.

“Mmh you even taste the same like always.” He moans with a smirk.

“Jimin please-” you cry out, locking your fingers into his hair when a finger is inserted into your dripping wet hole.

‘‘ No whining babygirl.’‘ His voice gentle as ever when he removes the finger inside of you making you pout a little. But that pout soon turned into your eyes becoming wide when he starts to take off his shirt, then grey sweatpants, then his underwear where his thick cock springs up.

Your eyes can’t leave his body. God it’s been a while. He looks pretty damn good. You wan’t to take all of his length in your mouth right now. To hear him praise you about how good your mouth feels against him. God you want it right now.

He gives it a few strokes before walking over to you. Just before hovering over you, he gives you a passionate kiss while lifting up your legs and positioning them to his liking. Missionary.

The tip of him pokes at the entrance of you, teasing in and out. Soon enough he enters you slowly making both of you moan together.

You still wrap and fit around his member smug as ever, and he could not believe it. The feeling of familiarity of being inside you sends him into a moaning mess with each stroke. You can’t contain your moans and screams. He feels way too good.

Jimin begins to deep-stroke you by pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You scream his name out in pleasure as your nails scratch up his toned back. Wet sounds fill the room with him picking up his pace. You take a glimpse of him only to admire his figure right now. Forehead forming sweat beads while he groans and moans biting his plump pink lips.

Your breathing becomes faster when that familiar feeling soon starts to take over. You turn your head to the side and let out a string of moans. Jimin isn’t having that though. His hand grabs your face gently and makes you make eye contact with him. Your legs start shaking as your head tilts back moans getting more faster. You finally let out one last one in sync with him, his hot sperm shoots inside of you.

Jimin pulls out, breathing heavily and collapses ontop of you. You let out a small grunt with the sudden extra body upon you, then giggle at him when he lays his head lays against your chest. This is what you wanted. He’s true. He’s sorry.

‘’ I love you.”

That word surprises you. You weren’t prepared for it. Somehow though, you enjoy the fact that he’s said it to you. Love. Jimin’s love. Your love.

‘’ I love you much more Jimin.’’

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happyselves · 3 years

Text

Pacify Him { Daniel Ricciardo x reader } /// WARNING EXPLICIT ///

Chapter : One shot Rating : Mature / Explicit / NSFW Words : 3,622 words

“Pacify her, she is getting on my nerves, hold your bitch before I push her away. You’re free to bring anyone here as long as they are behaving, but her … I don’t judge the person you are seeing, obviously I could give two shits about it but please tell her to calm herself down … This isn’t professional.”

You were fuming as you entered Daniel’s driver room,as his PR assistante you never interfere in his frequentation, but when it was impacting the reputation of the team and bugging people visiting the motorhome you had to step him. You calm yourself after a few breaths, stepping aside from Daniel a bit before looking at him again.

“ I didn’t mean to come that hard on you Daniel, but please you know how this is important right. You always ask for my honest opinion and there it is, I didn’t mean it for it to step out this hard on you but I can’t apologize for my words when I was thinking about them. She is toxic for you, she brings the bad in you when you are someone adorable usually. What is happening to you that you don’t trust me enough anymore to tell me when something is going wrong ? And before you are shushing me off, you know I am right, you and I are a package deal. “

He was defeated, not even looking at you, his whole body was shutting down and his legs were giving up on him. He takes the closest seat near him, almost falling and barely able to sit gracefully like he used to do.

“ I don’t know … I am so lost, I keep doing stuff wrong, I can’t find my soul anymore, I’m not very myself recently, I can’t even find my smile being genuine in the morning when I wake up in the morning. I’m putting a mask for people to see, but I’m like an empty shell. This bitch as you call her is only here to distract me and try to make me feel alive. She is nothing and it was a mistake to bring her… “

You were very concerned about Daniel’s attitude, it was the first time since you have known him that he worries about you right now. You were kneeling in front of him, trying your best not to invade his personal space. It’s something new for you, not invading it, you never ever thought he needed one but he looked so fragile, then you were under the impression that if you were touching him he would vanish into dust.

“ You are scaring me, what’s happening, is it the team ? Something personal ? You know you can tell me everything … “ A long silence got installed, your eyes were starting to water by all the pain you were seeing in him. You thought he wouldn’t open up, he was shutting you out by the way his body was curling up and turning to avoid your gaze on him. He was protecting himself like a kid that was terrified of a big stormy night.

You wanted to be the one to reassure one, but you were practically sure you were part of the problem. You stand quietly, ready to leave him alone in his driver room because there was nothing you could do if he wasn’t letting you.

His reaction was imminent, the driver inside of him was popping up and his muscles memories acting for him as it was his turn to get up and close the space between you, shutting the opened door. You yelped out of surprise before feeling his pressing body against you. You were stuck between the wooden door and his warm torso. Feeling his heretic heartbeat pounding in his chest. You couldn’t speak, you were too shocked for that. You and him were friends, close friends but not that physically close. You never cross that boundaries, but today was different, you felt it was.

The seconds looked like hours waiting for the confirmation of your assumption. Daniel seems to be as surprised as you to have acted the way he did, it was too late to back away now.

“ Don’t leave … don’t walk out that door “ His forehead was now resting on the back of your head, slightly not to hurt you and put weight on it. You wanted to ignore all the fuzzy feelings flooding in your whole body, but you couldn’t. Having him so close to you awakens a deep feeling hidden in you. “ The bitch will go away I promise, I am sorry “

Why was he apologizing to you, he didn’t disappoint anyone, yet. You weren’t even mad, you learn better to not judge someone's fucked up attitude when you could recognize the coping mechanics of someone keeping a secret and trying to turn the attention away from himself for nobody to catch the true meaning behind these actions. Does that make it acceptable ? It was each individual to have their own opinion. It was annoying you, that Daniel was suffering but preferred to distract himself and run away from his problem instead of talking to you or anyone else.

You close your eyes, your own forehead finds the cold surface of the door, his own head following yours not breaking the contact. HIs hands find the side of your hip.

“ The bitch isn’t the problem isn’t it ? “ You asked without any certainty he will give you a proper answer to that. His thumbs were caressing the skin of your hips through the tissues of your teamwear shirt, drawing a circle. You were sure he didn’t even notice he was doing it, his body was only responding to one mood and it was the auto-pilot one.

You were searching for breath and the driver’s room was starting to get tighter by the meanings, you were about to suffocate if the situation in which you both were wasn’t going to change fast enough.

“ You are the only one that can take away my pain … “ It could pass for a simple sentence if it wasn’t so Daniel, you had learned the code of conduct of Daniel Ricciardo and that … that was a declaration. “ It was you and I before, remember ? “

You were missing a piece of puzzle here, what was he talking about, is he drunk ? You never act differently around him, nothing changes, it never does. Yes it was him and you, always have been.

“ What are you talking about Daniel, you are confusing me “

“ Why did it change, the two of us … “ He was responding to your question by another one, like he was having his own conversation in his head, you were tempted to let him speak his mind to discover the bottom of the problem.

“ It didn’t change Daniel … “ You were trying as much as you could to put everything together, in vain.

“ It did change, I can’t look at you the same way as before … “ There it was, a little clue. If only he knew that it has been a long time since you have been able to look at him the way he used to when you meet him the first time. It was more than annoying you that he had brought someone with him for the weekend, more than it should. You were fuming when you saw the unknown name on the list of guests and asked someone to lighten it for you.

“ I know you are lying, why would you react the way you just did before if you weren’t “ You wanted to look at him, but his body was still pressing you against the cold wood. You had so much to say and him as well, all this unspoken tension you both tried to make yourself believe was a liar. You were both frauds, your friendship switched into something more months ago after a drunk night. Nothing happened that night, only looks were exchanged. The battle you both had as a joke at first turned into something way more deeper than you both were expecting and when you both tried to pull out of it, the damage had been done. That night was an epiphany moment for you, awaking the true desire between you. Your bodies couldn’t lie, the need for them to touch, the flaming sensation of his skin against yours like it was happening right now. Everything happened before and since that night, it never was the same thing for Daniel and everything went downhill.

You move your hand, posting on the door and Daniel understands the message and detaches himself from you. You slowly turn, god he was a mess and you bet you weren’t better.

“ You bewitched me that night, seduced me with your eyes. It was a game at first and now look at us, where is the game now ? “ He wasn’t accusing you of anything, it was a simple statement, an understanding between you. Two people were playing the game and two people ended up losing.

“ That wasn’t my intention, I tried to pull away, it was too late “ Who sounds defeated now, the tables have turned and he brings you down with him to the bottom of his misery. A couple bruises on your heart that he created was all you needed to have the proof that at least you two had shared a moment. It had to stay professional, but as his face was closing up the gap, all your convictions were being erased one by one.

You didn’t wait for him, you joined him in the middle, your lips connected quicker than he had anticipated, your eyes shut down in synchronisation. You didn’t who reacted first and kissed the other one back. That lip was perfect, far from it, it was messy just like him, but it was passionate. His teeth were teasing your bottom lips, asking permission to tear the flesh of it apart. You moaned when his tongue was inviting you to open your mouth. The taste of your two saliva was so intoxicated that you almost fell and he had to catch you with both of his arms, supporting you from your lower back. His smile came back to life against your mouth, letting out a childish giggle and you hit his arm to make him stop making fun of your lack of stability.

HIs reaction was quick, if you couldn’t stand up anymore he would use that door to help you. He pushes you toward it and your back gets lean on it, his arms unlocking themselves to explore your body, finding where they were before except this style the hem of your shirt came loose, letting the palm of his hand directly enter in contact with your skin, sending you shivers.

You had forgotten your environnement, too busy burying your own hands in his dark curls, bringing him closer as much as possible. Your teeth were still clenching and air was starting to lack in your lounge. You didn’t want to let go, scared for the reality to be brought back. You have been dreaming for months about this. Having the fantasy in your head when the night was setting and the moon shining.

DSaniel didn’t let you think for another second as he used this little moment of rest when you stop kissing him for a second, to lift you up, grabbing your ass, his palm firmly around it. He moves you and remembered to lock the door before turning back his focus on you as he finally break the kiss to look at you. Lust could be seen all over your two faces. His face was not showing any sadness anymore, only mischievousness and happiness. If you knew that all you needed to do to bring back the Daniel you knew was to let your own desire take over you, you would have done it sooner.

He took the direction of the massage table beside him, putting you on the edge before finding your neck and kissing the soft skin. You let a snort escape when his scruff tickles a sensitive spot behind your ear. He laughs against the skin and the vibration changes the snort into a whining complaint. He traveled all the way down to your clavicle but the fabric of your shirt was stopping him. He didn’t wait for your approval to remove it, the force of the removal making you lift your arm automatically. They fall back on his neck when he throws the piece of tissue somewhere you will have a hard time finding back.

That was extremely hot from him and by your legs starting to spread a little bit and the heat you were starting to feel between them, he noticed acknowledge the effect he had on you and smirk, visibly proud of himself. It was not the time to hide yourself even if you could feel embarrassed, this man in front of you was everything you had dreamt of and it had the talent to make you feel confident of your body, just by the way he looks at every detail of your body.

You were eager to let him take the situation under his control and only his, not doing anything and just being the prize he was working on to have for so long. All the torment, the torture and the conviction he will never have you, he deserved it. You will get your prize another time … it was only the beginning for you.

He was taking his time with you,no matter how much his desire was waking up, he had one mission and one mission only; your pleasure. You could see the forming bulge in his pants and felt for him, imagining how inconfortable it must be for him.

It all went to dust when his hands found their way under your bra cupping your breast and his lips traveled your chest as he was kissing his way down. He was leaving wet kisses and blowing air on it, goosebumps started to appear quickly, head being jolted back.

You wish you knew what to do with your hands but they were gripping the leather of the massage table so hard your knuckles were getting white by the second. He didn’t seem to care as his hands found your pants, he pushed you a bit behind, making unspeakable demands for you to lift your ass so he could slide the piece of clothes down for it to join your shirt somewhere in the room.

You could barely keep your eyes open as you witnessed the extremely hot scene in front of you. Daniel between your legs, keeping the same pace with you, kissing his way up toward the inner of your thighs. You sensed his teeth nibbling your skin, licking every spot afterward, like he was trying to heal the pain he just caused you. Little did he know that pain you were feeling was arousing you even more, your panty was starting to visibly licked your excitement. It was feeling like torture, you thougth that Daniel would be like the others partner you had, your skin would get used to the touch after a moment and the horniness would stop at a certain level, thinking you had reach the maximal of his possibility. How wrong were you when you were on the verge to cum without him actually pleasuring you in this area. You knew it was coming, Daniel kisses were more hungry, teasing the flesh of your thigh turning red by the bite and the kisses.

His lips were swallowing, getting bigger by the unusual exercise they were carrying on, his tongue would feel numb if it was for the desire he had to taste you, letting it survive for a couple minutes still. You watch him, leaving a kiss on the wet fabric of your underwear, your eyes were blurrying by the anticipation of him finally finding your clit. His teeth end up moving the piece of dentelle that was the last barrier between you and him.

It was like he was home and belonged there, here with you, right in this instance, it was you and him against the world. Forgetting your environnement you let a cry escape a little bit too loud as soon his thick tongue was licking arousal. You thought that seeing the start was a legend, a fantasy, but Daniel had made you become reality as your head was banged back, finding the cold wall, your neck was stretching so hard that the blood was lacking in your brain making you see some sparkling spot. He needed you to stay quiet and as he tried to put one of his hands on your mouth he ended up finding the neck instead, squeezing it enough for you to moan his name as he was continuing his exploration of your pussy.

Your hands finally leave the grip of the massage table to find their new place around Daniel's arm. You were stretched out in front of him, so vulnerable, just for him and you were unable to give a proper reaction to being buried in the pleasure he was giving you. His tongue was teasing your entrance, making it hardening, pushing himself in you as you will. The thumb of his free hand was moving in a slow circle around your clit. He didn’t know the dilemma you were encountering, keeping your eyes shut and your head back or fighting his firm hand on your neck for you to see him eating you alive. You sure had to make a decision quickly because you were soon to arrive at the edge before you will let the orgasm consume your whole body.

By the sound you were making, Daniel had the confirmation he was doing everything in the right way for you. He never experienced such joy to make someone lose their composure due to his actions. He was feeling proud that he was finding it out with you. Every woman he had been with didn’t sound or look as beautiful and real as you spread in front of him right now. He could spend hours tasting you, how good you were for him, how reactive and sensitive your skin was becoming after being torn apart by him. How the thought of fucking you with his tongue had haunt his dream for the past couples of month now, but the reality of this was surpassing all his expectations. He wanted to be rough with you, all the dirty thoughts came back rushing into his brain, overwhelming him and sending twitch to his dick. Rather than being dominant, it was all about showing you how much he had wanted you and how willing he was to give you anything you wanted, because you deserved it. You deserved for him to make you forget every man you had sex with. Replacing all the bad and good memories with his own. Changing all the faces in your dream, planting his own in the own DNA of your imagination.

He could feel that you were holding it together for it to last longer, even if that meant losing the self-control you had in you. Your wall was tightening around his fat tongue. You were completely losing your mind at the foreword of sensation throwing at you at the same time. You were sure it was too much for one person and you could care less about the verbal explosion you might have in a couple of seconds. Daniel however, foreseeing your release, put two fingers in your mouth holding your jaw from your mouth, your lips closed themself around them and your tongue was soon relaxing on them. You bite his knuckles when his tongue replaces his thumb in one flick of the tongue, finally letting cum. Your legs were shaking and Daniel had to hold you for you not to hurt yourself, your eyes were rolling back as your orgasm hit you in small waves, sending you jolts of electricity around your body. Your brain was shutting down, the stifled moan never reaching the exterior of your mouth, dying down on Daniel’s fingers in sensual vibration that made his bulge react, begging to be taken care of.

It tooks you minutes to come back to the open world, Daniel’s eyes not leaving you for a second, admiring his work. You slowly come back to reality and automatically search for him, missing his touch already. Your eyes were still not open when you found the collar of his shirt and pulled him rather violently, crashing your lips together, taking a taste of your own juice still lingering on his lips. You sigh in the kiss, reassured that what just happened wasn’t just a dream and that you were far needing to wake up from it.You rest your forehead on his, the wave of pleasure was still leaving some after effects on you including dizziness.

You had to clear your throat as you realised no sound was coming it out the first time you tried to speak.

“ That bitch needs to go, tell her you replace her with a more living version. “

You couldn’t help but laugh at your own words and Daniel was smiling at the way you just described yourself.

“ She’s already gone, she was already gone before you burst into my room.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, but one thing for sure is that you will have a hard time making people outside of this room say that nothing happened between the two of you. At least you would not pissed them off and you were able to pacify him at any time.

MASTERLIST

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