#8=/ < I have to fix these before he rears his head again.

[horriblydrawnhoruss]

lame :/

8=D < Yes, yes— I'm well aware. Now, shoo, unless you have anything more e%emplary to say.

8=D < I'm busy.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

All Falls Down - Chapter 8

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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Series Masterlist

taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci1996 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @nbanenefrmdao @arination99 @alyyaanna @m3llowww @harmshake @empressdede @jeysbae @theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @raya-hunter01 @kawaiisadoglu @msbigredmachine @dietothemusic @2-muchsauce @tian-monique @leaderofthebadbitchbrigade @wrestlingprincess80  @saintaquarius @bebesobrielo @venusesworld @babysyhsyh

Kiyana sighed as she hung up the phone with Joe. He had called to see if she was okay after he said Josh seemed down and depressed at the arena. She had told him about Shanté coming to their house and he suggested for her to fly to California and told her he would help her and Josh with their relationship like he used to in highschool to which she laughed at and agreed to fly out to California. 

It seemed like a good idea to fly out and work on her issues with Josh face to face but that whole ordeal with that bitch the other day put a sour taste in her mouth about Josh. But Joe was right, they needed to actually work on their marriage instead of her ignoring Josh when he was home off of the road.  So she sent Joe a text telling him that she was on her way to the airport. 

Kiyana packed a bag for herself before calling her mother and asking if she could come watch the boys for a couple of days, which she happily agreed to. Kiyana had a weird feeling in her stomach, not a bad one just… she knew something was going to hit the fan. 

“Are you sure this is the right decision?” Her mom asked Kiyana who shrugged. 

“I honestly have no idea. I mean I don’t even want to fix our relationship but something in my gut is telling me to get on this flight to California.” Kiyana’s mom nodded and gave her daughter a tight hug before saying goodbye as Kiyana’s Uber drove away. 

The ride to the Chase Center was nerve-wracking. If Kiyana was being completely honest she wasn’t even sure why she was going to the arena. Josh had an affair.  And the woman who had an affair with, thought it would be a good idea to show up to her front door. Honestly Kiyana should’ve been at her divorce attorney’s first thing in the morning but she couldn’t work up the courage to actually do it. 

She sent Joe a text saying she was outside and he replied immediately saying he was on his way. She only had to wait outside by the security entrance before the door opened and Joe walked out. Her heart rate spiking as her eyes fell on him. Odd, she thought. 

“Damn KiKi .Who you tryna impress?” Kiyana rolled her eyes at Joe’s somewhat compliment and opened her arms up for a hug. She closed her eyes and melted into the hug and inhaled his scent. She bit her bottom lip and took another deep inhale of his scent before he pulled away from the hug.  Yup this was a bad idea.  She thought especially since she couldn’t stop thinking about him since the moment they shared in the club. 

Joe pulled out of the hug and smiled. “I’ll have my driver come get your bag.” She nodded as he pulled out his phone to text the driver, who showed up two minutes later to take her suitcase back to Joe’s travel bus.  “You ready to go inside?” She nodded and started to walk with him into the arena but stopped and grabbed his hand so he could stop walking too.  “What's wrong? Having second thoughts?” 

“What's your motive?” Joe his head back reared back as if she had slapped him. 

“Whatchu’ mean KiKi?” Kiyana sighed and shifted on her feet then looked around to make sure they were still alone. 

“I mean like a week ago, you know at the club.” She shifted again uncomfortably.  “And now you’re paying for my flight and saying I should make up with him.” Kiyana shrugged. “I don’t get it.” 

Joe nodded and stroked his beard. “I mean you know how I feel about you KiKi, ain’t shit change since high school,” Kiyana’s jaw dropped open a bit  “But Josh is my family and if I can help y’all out I will.” Joe lied, If he could have his way, Kiyana would’ve been in his bed last weekend after he made her cum in the club. He didn’t want to help Josh, not one fuckin’ bit. 

Kiyana stared at him before nodding and walking around him into the arena. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt disappointed. She knew about his crush on her in high school, everybody did  “He just went out to his match against Reed, but we can wait for him in catering, you hungry?” Kiyana nodded and followed him to catering, saying Hi to WWE superstars she had met before when she had come to shows with Josh.  

Joe had walked her over to a table at the back of the room and told her he would be right back as he went to make them both a plate of food.  It was obvious the majority of Josh’s coworkers knew about his affair from how some of them kept looking over at her and whispering to each other.

“Don’t worry about them.” Joe said as he came back over with their plates. “It’s basically high school all over again.” Kiyana nodded but still looked over at the table where a handful of women were still whispering and glancing over at her. 

“It seems like everyone knew but me.” 

“I mean to be honest KiKi, they were being kinda obvious.” Kiyana narrowed her eyes. “I only found out a couple days before he told you. Someone came up to me and asked if he divorced you and said they seen her comin’ out his hotel room at like two in the morning. She also walks around here wearing his shit.” 

“Oh.” Kiyana said, looking down at the table. Hearing that he wasn’t even trying to hide his affair hurt. This was such a bad idea. Should’ve just went to the lawyers office like I planned.  She rolled her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. She was tired of crying over Josh. She thanked Joe when he handed her a napkin to wipe her tears. 

Josh let out a groan as he came back into the Gorilla Position and saw Shanté waiting for him with a smile on her face. She started clapping as soon as she saw him. “Yay! You won.” She tried to give him a hug but he pushed her off of him.  “Josh, what’s the problem?” 

“How many times I gotta say that I'm done with this shit Shanté? Whatever we had is done aight?!” He brushed past her and started walking towards the locker room. 

“But I love you!” She cried out after him. Josh stopped walking and turned towards Shanté

“No, don’t do that shit. You knew what this was. It wasn’t supposed to go on as long as it did. I’m sorry but I love my wife and I'm not giving her up for nothing.” 

“Yeah, well your precious wife is in catering with Roman right now.” 

“What?” Josh asked, confused. Kiyana was not in California, she was definitely in Florida. “No she not.” 

“Why I gotta lie for Josh. I heard them talking earlier too. You might not be the only one who stepped out on your marriage.” Josh frowned his face up and turned away from Shanté and started making his way towards catering. You might not be the only one who stepped out on your marriage. What the fuck is that suppose to mean?  

Josh was shocked once he entered catering and saw Kiyana sitting at one of the back tables with Joe. He started to walk over to them but stopped as he actually got a good look at them. They were sitting way too close for his liking. , Kiyana was damn near on Joe’s lap and for some reason Joe had his hand on Kiyana’s thigh. Josh felt his anger rise and he stormed over to where they were. 

“The fuck is this?” He asked gruffly, growing irritated as neither one of them moved away from each other. “What is this?” He asked again, gesturing to Joe’s hand that was on Kiyana’s thigh. 

“See told you.” Shante said, smugly as she seemed to materialize out of thin air. “Told you she cheated too.”  Kiyana rolled her eyes and look annoyed but her heart was pounding a furious tattoo. She glanced over at Joe who had a smirk on his face. 

“Tell him what happened at the club.” Shanté said, now talking directly to Kiyana. Kiyana looked around catering and was glad to see that it was almost empty and the few superstars who were still there weren’t paying them any mind. 

“Nothing happened - “ Kiyana started but was cut off by Joe. 

“What we did ain’t nothing worse than what y’all two did.”  What. The. Actual. Fuck?!

Another cliffhanger I'm sorry 😭 (no i'm not)

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x11 Going Home

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 670

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She’d had the dream again just before her alarm went off.  The details were fuzzy and indistinct and she could never quite remember what happened when she woke, but it always ended the same way.  She and Henry were in her car.  She looked in the rear view mirror, and she saw this group of people standing there.  One of the women had her hands raised, and there was green and purple smoke enveloping all of them. She didn’t know why, but Emma always felt an intense sadness at this point in the dream.

And then it was all gone–the people, the smoke, the sadness.  It was just her and her kid cruising down the road on a bright sunny day.

There was probably some deep underlying meaning in it all–or so she’d think if she went in for all that dream interpretation crap.

Anyway, she had the dream pretty frequently, probably about once a month, although for a few weeks there at the beginning of the year she’d had it nearly every other night.

Emma shook her head slightly and went back to her task at hand, stirring the eggs, flipping the pancakes, thinking about her day ahead.  It was Saturday so she and the kid were having their normal weekend big breakfast.  After that, she needed to get to work.  She was so close to catching her latest skip.  If she was lucky, she’d nab him tonight and still have time to make it to her date with Walsh.

She couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing when it came to her relationship with Walsh.  Oh she loved him and all, but he was just…comfortable.  Somehow she felt like there should be more in a relationship, more passion, more desire, just…more, but hey. Walsh was a good guy; he got along great with her kid, and they just kind of meshed.

Better a kind of boring relationship than an exciting one where the guy left you holding the bag for his crime and you ended up going to prison for it.

She had just handed the cinnamon to Henry and sat down to dig into her breakfast when the knocking started–and her heart started pounding in time with the knocking.  Sometimes in life there were moments where you get a sixth sense, where you just know something momentous is going to happen.

Brushing aside her fancy, Emma went to the door and opened it to see him.  She didn’t know who this strange man dressed like a pirate was, but she knew him.  It made no sense, but she was pretty sure he was one of the people in the dream she was always having.

He was spouting nonsense about her family needing her and how he knew she didn’t remember but he could make her.

And then he swooped in and kissed her, and God help her, for a split second her knees almost gave out at the rightness of it, the relief, the feelings, the joy.

But then reality set back in, and she did what she should have done the moment he took a step toward her–she kneed him in the family jewels and slammed the door in his face.

Her brow furrowed as she licked her lips, still tasting of him, and the unsettling feelings continued. 

“Who was that?” Henry asked, going back to his pancakes.

It was enough to snap her out of it once and for all.

“No idea,” she said, ambling back toward the table. “Someone must have left the door open downstairs.  Come on; let’s eat.”

Notes:–How could I not write my drabble on this scene?  I am fairly certain I literally screamed when I watched this episode live and saw who it was on the other side of the door.  This was the moment I was 100% certain that Captain Swan was endgame and it was glorious.  Given that this was the mid-season finale, I considered this scene my very first Christmas present of the year.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[penflicks]

Bloom held onto Sky for what would be the last time in maybe forever. What had previously been a desperate need to stay with him in the hopes of clinging on to a future was muffled under the crushing weight of knowing she was the monster that haunted the otherworld. Perhaps something on the other side of the conduit would be able to take this monstrous thing inside her, but she was far past hoping.

A noise that sounded like the dog yip came from up the stairs. Bloom could only stare at the wriggling puppy in Saul's arms. Behind was Andreas holding a piece of what looked like the convergence crystal.

"You told them I was leaving?" Bloom turned to Sky.

"We guessed, this little guy almost didn't arrive in time." Saul closed the distance and pushed the little Dalmatian/Border Collie cross into her arms.

Bloom stared at the cutest puppy she'd ever seen and the puppy licked her nose. She felt the tiniest thawing in her chest, as an emotion over than numbness peaked out.

"He's all yours, just sign here please," Saul held out the piece of crystal to her. "Just pop a bit of your dragon flame in that and it's all sorted."

Sky was looking at Saul with a slight frown of confusion, but 8 year old Bloom who had begged and pleaded for pet despite her dad's allergies reared her head. Bloom found herself unable to refuse this buried need inside her for a fluffy companion who would love her even when the school bullies had turned everyone else against her. Tearfully, she touched the crystal and discharged some of the dragon flame into it.

It seemed it really was a piece of the convergence crystal as she could feel the magic returning to her just as soon as she'd charged it. Andreas grabbed it from Saul's hand before the dragon flame had fully dispersed and yeeted it through the conduit.

The conduit flickered and closed from the dragon flame on the otherside. Her path out was gone. She was trapped here. Always trapped. Bloom let out a heartrending sob and slumped her head forward. Her face pressed into the puppy's soft fur who batted her ear with his wagging tail.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed. You're exhausted. This will all feel more manageable in the morning." Saul wrapped his arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the stairs.

"I can't! What if I hurt someone while I'm sleeping? What if I loose control?" Bloom wailed. The tears finally uncapping the vault of misery that had been brewing deep inside her.

"We already thought of that when you arrived, why do you think you were roomed with a water fairy?" Saul rubbed her arm soothingly. "I'm sure we can leave the magic blocking bracelets in you room if that will help you feel better."

"It won't help! They don't work! I can feel it still. One slight push of the dragon flame and they'll break! You should have let me leave!" Bloom cuddled her new puppy tighter and felt its rough tongue licking her wrist.

"Dogs like that need jobs, just tell him to guard, and he'll raise the alarm ap Aisha can come put you out. Her name is Aisha right?" Andreas said from behind them where he seemed to be the only thing holding Sky up, whose legs were failing him from the shock and grief of almost losing Bloom.

"You could call him Suiteheart. Y'know S-U-I-" Saul was cut off by Sky's groan.

"He's cracked. The last few months have been too much and Saul's finally cracked to the point of dad jokes," Andreas had the tone of mock exasperation.

Bloom hiccuped through her tears in an almost laugh. The puppy yipped again and wagged his tail harder.

"Oh no," Bloom sniffled. "I think he liked the name."

Suiteheart the puppy only snuggled deeper in her arms.

As they returned her to the suite and Saul tucked her up in bed while Sky argued that he should be able to sleep on her floor with Andreas, Suiteheart curled up against her chest to guard her sleep.

"Don't worry about anything, Bloom. We'll have Farah up and about again in no time and she'll help us fix everything Rosalind broke." Saul stroked the hair out of her face in a fatherly fashion. "Forget about Luna, she won't get her hands on you again. I promise."

Sky had apprantly won the argument with Andreas and was settling down on the floor beside her bed. Bloom sniffled and nodded and felt a comforting wave of sleep slide over her. Crying always did make her tired. She closed her eyes and barely registered the two teachers leaving.

[harmonie-writes]

Gold Eyes pt. 8

werewolf! Woozi x fem!reader

AN: (—–) are time lapses and pov changes, italics are thoughts/bonded connection with pack members

Warnings: fluff, slow burning romance

Word count: ~1.6k

Summary: A professional photographer who just wants to show the world the beauty that you see. You mainly take photos of nature/wildlife. What could possibly go wrong in a world with the hidden supernatural?

-----------

Previously:

“So… after breakfast we are picking up some things from my apartment right?” you asked, trying to avoid the awkward silence you managed to create.

“Mhm, I’ll go with you and someone else to help carry things down to the car,” he nodded once keeping his eyes fixed in front of him as the two of you moved back toward the kitchen. It was quiet for a moment so you spoke in a whisper, “Thank you again Jihoon.”

Jihoon glanced at you from the corner of his eye before directing his gaze forward again, “You don’t need to thank me.” I do this because I’d do anything for you. You’re my mate, Jihoon thought.

----------

You watched the scenery change as you looked out the back window of Wonwoo’s car. The trees thinned ever so slightly before the outskirts of the town started moving by. Jihoon tilted his head to look over his shoulder at you from the passenger seat. Your chin was resting in your hand as you gazed out the window, and the only sound in the car was whatever station was currently playing on the radio.

“Thank you for letting me stay with you guys. You really didn’t have to,” You told them, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes in the rear view mirror.

“It’s not a problem at all. Besides, your company is always welcome,” Wonwoo said to you, but his eyes glanced at the wolf sitting next to him. Jihoon nodded his head slowly as he played with his fingers. The tension that seemed to fill the car dissipated slightly, and the three of you were left in a comfortable silence only to be broken when you gave directions to your apartment.

----------

“Here we are,” you mumbled, glancing up at the grey building in front of you only to be hit with a small amount of dread. You glanced at the stairwell that led up to the third floor where your apartment was before letting your forehead thump against the window. You had the option of getting a room on the ground level, but no, you just had to pay that little bit extra for a room with a view of the forest canopy.

Frowning slightly at hearing you bang your head on the window, Jihoon shifted in the passenger seat and gently pulled on your sleeve. “Everything okay?”

Playing with your fingers you chanced a glance at Jihoon’s face only to meet his eyes. Whether he realized it or not you fidgeted slightly under his intense gaze and swallowed thickly. “Normally everything would be okay, but my apartment is on the third floor.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes as he opened the car door, and Jihoon nodded slowly as he realized your predicament before he too got out of the car. Walking around to your side of the, car Jihoon opened up your car door before squatting down in front of you with his back to you.

“Um.. what, what are you doing exactly?” You mumbled.

Jihoon glanced over his shoulder at you and rolled his eyes like it was obvious enough. “I’m giving you a piggyback ride, now come on.”

Nodding once, you set the weight of your body on your good leg before clinging onto him. Wonwoo closed the door behind the both of you as you made your way to the stairwell.

Not completely sure what compelled you to do so, but you felt at ease in Jihoon’s hold. The warmth radiating from his back onto your chest and his hands under your thighs had you relax enough to the point that your chin rested on his shoulder. Being this close to him you could smell the rich earth-tones and plum blossoms, and it brought a smile to your lips.

Jihoon’s lip quirked up on one side as he felt you ease into him. Although, when he felt your eyes on his face his smirk fell from his lips as he tried to seem indifferent. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest begged to differ, but he honestly hoped that your hands wouldn’t be able to tell.

The group climbed the stairs and reached the landing before you handed Wonwoo your keys. “It’s door 17.” Nodding he took the keys and went ahead to unlock it. It was silent after Wonwoo had gone to unlock your apartment door, and Jihoon didn’t seem to be in any rush to get there. But you couldn’t help but fidget with your fingers that were hanging loosely around Jihoon’s neck.

Briefly glancing at you, Jihoon asked, “Are you ok?”

“Hm? Oh, just slightly nervous I guess. Just the thought of having to leave my home, and stay with strangers is not the most settling thought right now,” you murmured.

“Well… You know Wonwoo.”

“I guess there’s that.”

“It won’t be all bad. I promise. It’s… temporary,” Jihoon swallowed deeply, not at all liking the way he had to force the word temporary off his tongue when you were his mate. Albeit, unknowingly to you. It’s supposed to be permanent. He just doesn’t know how to bring it up, at least not without you freaking out.

Walking into the apartment the first thing Jihoon noted is that it was cozy, and covered in various photos, ones that he could assume only you would have taken. “So do you want to stay in the living room or the bedroom?” Jihoon asked.

“I think I should be in the bedroom to handle the more personal items, don’t you think?” You gave him a small pat on the shoulder before pointing in the direction of your room.

“Ah… right,” Jihoon muttered, feeling the tips of his ears get warm at what you were talking about.

“I mean unless you want to be the one to pick out my underwear then so be it. I can stay on the couch,” you teased.

“Nope! No, that's totally fine. We are already heading to your room!” Jihoon flushed furiously as his pace picked up. Jeez what happened to being nervous! Jihoon could hear Wonwoo’s snort coming from another room, having overheard the entire conversation.

Following his nose he found the room that smells the strongest of your coffee scent giving the door handle a twist and allowing himself inside. Jihoon helped you slide off his back gingerly before watching you hobble about your room to the closet to pull out a suitcase before lugging it over to the bed and flipping it open.

Turning back to your closet you asked, “I didn’t tell you which room was mine. How’d you know?”

Stiffening Jihoon glanced at you, “Just a lucky guess.”

Humming you let it slide as you tossed a sweatshirt into the suitcase before making your way to the dresser. Seeing as you began pulling out various pairs of undergarments, Jihoon quickly turned his attention to some of the knick-knacks that lined your bedside table and walls. Photos that held pressed flowers and different animals adorned the walls, but there was a specific photo that sat on your night stand. There in the photo was an ash colored wolf napping in a meadow clearing, and it just so happened to be the one the pack saved you in.

Picking up the photo he turns to you, "how'd you manage to take this picture?"

Glancing up from your folding you eye the picture in his hands. "Oh, I had a set of long range lenses on me for that one. It's the only one like that. The other photos just don't really compare to that one," you shrug slightly as you give him your response before adding. "It's my favorite photo that I've taken so far."

Nodding his head, Jihoon sets the picture back in its place while you finish packing your things.

A small rap on the door frame drew both of your attention to see Wonwoo with a couple of bags in hand of small things he thought you'd want to take along. "Ready?"

Nodding your head they grab your things. "We'll take these down, and then come right back up to get you, alright?"

Nodding again, you watch the two of them walk out your front door before letting your mind wander. You recount the day you encountered thirteen wolves who seemed… friendly? And a singular wolf who thought you'd be an excellent meal. Shaking your head you realize it was probably only a matter of time before running into such a larger predator.

—-------

"She's seen me Woo, like she has seen my wolf before," Jihoon spews, once they're far enough away from your apartment.

Wonwoo hums before looking toward the older pack mate. "I'm surprised the link didn't happen then."

Jihoon just shrugged as they loaded the bags into the trunk. "I don't know, she mentioned something about long range lenses. Do you think my wolf would've felt the bond though?"

Eyeing Jihoon a little bit he just shrugs, "well you didn't know until she came into the store so I'm going to say no."

Huffing, Jihoon closed the trunk before marching back to you.

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[saphira5]

Jordan Parrish x Ghost Rider Reader Part 2

Y/n then opens the front door and calls Shadowfax.  

Y/n turns around and locks the door, and you place the key under the rocking chair. Y/n then hears a neigh, you turn around and see Shadowfax a couple of feet from the porch stairs. Y/n walks to Shadowfax, y/n opens the saddle bag, you see y/n whip, and revolver.

Y/n mounts Shadowfax, "let's go check out the shop, Shadow". 

 Y/n rides Shadowfax to the Mechanic Shop y/n grandpa owned in the outskirts of Becon Hills. Y/n had many good memories of that place, y/n grandpa taught you how to fix cars there.

Once y/n arrived at the mechanic shop, y/n dismounted Shadowfax. Y/n walks to the back to turn on the generators to the shop. The lights turn on, y/n walks to the front and sees the sign still works. No missing letters or messed up bulbs, it reads "Rider's Mechanic Shop". Y/n smiles, you then walk to the garage doors, y/n opens the two garage doors.  

Y/n walks in, nothing had changed, tools line the wall. Two blue hydraulic lifts (used to lift cars in the air), lay a couple of feet from the garage doors. It was a small shop, but it was everything to y/n grandpa.  

Y/n began checking the tools and Hydraulic lift, y/n looked outside and saw the sun was already out.

Y/n looks up at the clock that is in the middle of the garage doors, it reads 8:00am, y/n chuckles. Y/n walk outside and heads to the back of the shop to smoke. Y/n pulls out the cigarette pack out of y/n pocket, when y/n hears a car pull in the gravel driveway.

Y/n puts the cigarette pack in y/n pocket, you begin walking to the front, you see a black and white dodge charger that has Becon County Sheriff on the side. 

 The car door opens and out steps a cute sheriff, y/n walks over to him.  

"Good morning, my name is y/n, how can I help you", y/n stick out your hand, the cute sheriff shakes it "Good morning, y/n, Jordan, I believe I have a nail in my tire".  

"Which tire", Jordan walks to the right rear tire. Y/n sees that it is a bit low, "let me get the jack", Jordan nods. Y/n walks inside and grabs the jack, also the air wrench to take off the lug nuts. Y/n walks out with the jack and the air wrench. Y/n places the air wrench on the floor, y/n then starts jacking up the car. 

 Y/n takes off the tire, y/n places the lug nuts in your pocket.  

You then roll the tire inside the shop, y/n fix's the tire, you roll it back outside. Y/n puts the tire back on, y/n lowers the car back down. Y/n digs into your pocket and pulls out the nail that was in the tire. "This was in your tire", y/n passes the nail to Jordan. "Wow, it's huge", Jordan looks at the large nail in his hand. "Thank you, y/n", Jordan passes y/n the nail, y/n puts it in your pocket. "No problem, Jordan". "How much, y/n", "its free". 

 Y/n picks up the air wrench and jack, y/n walks in the shop and places the wrench and jack back in place. 

 Y/n then walks to Jordan, who is waiting near the driver door. "Thank you again y/n", Jordan pulls out his hand, y/n shakes it "no problem Jordan". Then Jordans walkie goes off, "duty calls", Jordan looks at y/n and smiles. 

 He climbs in and begins pulling out of the driveway, but before he left Jordan waved at you, y/n waves back. Y/n decides to close the shop, you turn off the generators, then you lock the shop doors. Y/n then whistles for Shadowfax, he comes running to y/n. You mount Shadowfax and head home.  

Y/n walks up the porch steps, y/n moves the rocking chair.  

Y/n picks up the key and unlocks the door, y/n takes of your boots and y/n places your Boonie hat on a hook near y/n cowboy hat.

Y/n walks to the couch and lays down, y/n closes your eyes. Y/n fell asleep, then got woken up by the phone. Y/n gets up and walks over to the kitchen where the landline phone is.  

Y/n picks up the phone "hello", "hello y/n, it's Jordan", "hello Jordan, how can I help you".  

"My boss's car is smoking, and I was wonder if you can check it out". 

 "Of course, Jordan. Where are you at", "I am at the sheriff's department". 

 "Ok, I am on the way", "ok, thank you y/n".  

Y/n hangs up the phone, y/n walks over to the closet door that is near the back door. 

Post 9/16/23 Late

[camaro-and-smokes]

First date - The Love of My Life PT 1

Rating: Mature Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Warnings: just fluff (enough to make even me nauseous)

Part 1 [PT 2] [PT 3] [PT 4] [PT 5] [PT 6] [PT 7] [PT 8 in full only on AO3] [PT 9] [PT 10]/ 10

Read on AO3 >>

Author notes: This is my very own, very first fix-it Stranger Things AU, probably first out of many. If you don't like the characters or the setting, instead of leaving nasty comments I have a solution for you: Don't read.

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Billy parked his Camaro on the side of the road, close to the gate of the old mill, and as close to the trees as he dared to keep the car pretty much hidden from drivebyers in the dusk.

He was early, and was ashamed that he was so excited about the date. He was the one who always made sure he wasn’t the first one anywhere. If anything, he was the one who was always late, just to assert his dominance.

Now, however, he wasn’t able to stop himself from driving to the mill way before he was supposed to be there. He kept checking his hair on the rear view mirror, and that there was definitely not a stain or anything else on his white t-shirt, again and again. He tried to keep his breathing slow to stop his heart beating so damn hard but it did shit nothing. And his fucking palms kept sweating, even though he kept wiping them to his jeans again and again.

Headlights flashed in the curve ahead, and the car neared the mill on a speed that was probably a bit slower than the limit. His heart pounded in his throat and he set his hands on the wheel to keep them from trembling.

Just before the car was at the gate of the mill, it sped up, and when it passed him, he saw that it was an old Chevrolet.

He took a deep breath and decided that maybe it was time for the cigarette he had tried not to smoke to be able to use it when he would step out of the car when it was time: casually getting out, closing the door, donning his jacket, walking in the front of the car, leaning on the hood, and lighting the smoke.

He took out the pack and saw, to his utter dismay, that there was only one left. In his excitement he had forgotten to buy a new pack.

He remembered that it had been on his mind when he had been taking Max to her friend's house, just to make the drive his father had told him to do 'or else...' longer and more agonizing for Max. Then, the BMW had been parked in front of the mall, and he had forgotten everything and just kept driving. He had even forgotten his favourite thing of annoying Max with a rude remark when she stepped out of the car. He had somewhat registered her actually rolling her eyes, but then he just had wanted to get away. He didn’t care what the fuck the brat thought she knew. She had no idea.

Now he had only two options. To wait and do nothing now - which was a shitty option - or then smoke the cigarette now, and then, when it was time, to just casually cross his arms and look cool. Another shitty option. He wanted it to be perfect, not almost, and now his plan was already going south, even before everything had even started.

He shook his head and cursed. He put the smoke between his lips and lit it. Damn it felt good. He relaxed a bit and hung his arm out from the window, to keep up the cool even when he was in his car alone, in the middle of fucking nowhere, and to his surprise, suddenly not sure at all if he wanted to be there.

He panicked. What if what he was doing was a massive mistake? What if this would forever be the biggest mistake he ever made? To show his true self to someone he barely knew? And even worse: that person spilling out his secret to everyone else? Had they actually understood the real meaning why he wanted to meet up?

His thoughts were interrupted when a set of headlights blinded him through the rear view mirror. Despite now seeing mostly just the two lights that were lingering in his vision, he kept staring at the mirror and followed the car as it came closer. When it was close enough, he recognized the grill. It was the BMW.

He put out the smoke quickly and back into the pack. There was still two thirds of it left, he could still use it without making the act look pathetic.

The BMW parked further ahead, on the other side of the gate, similarly as close to the trees as possible. The tail lights turned off and the inside light lit up when the driver’s door opened.

Billy swallowed. Showtime.

A dark shadow walked towards him from the BMW. Billy opened the door and stepped out, seeing Steve already almost by the Camaro. Billy walked in front of the car a bit too quickly, mentally kicking himself for missing the timing, and donned his jacket as he leaned on the hood as Steve stopped in front of the car.

Billy raised his chin quickly in greeting. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Steve didn’t say anything, but Billy noticed a small smile on his face.

”Shit. Too eager, you asshole, and totally out of character,” Billy internally scolded himself. But now was the time to put on the show he'd planned so many times in front of the mirror. The smoke came out from the pack easily, just like it had done thousands of times before. He lit it and looked back up to Steve.

“I’m good,” Steve finally replied.

Billy was sure all Steve saw was his trembling hands, the sweat that had for some fucking reason started to gather on his forehead and his overall awkwardness, feeling that was absolutely unnatural to him in every fucking way.

Steve leaned on the hood of the Camaro next to Billy. Billy's first thought was that Steve was too close for his comfort. Then the second one recognized that it was exactly where he wanted Steve to be. Where he had wanted to have him for a while. Billy looked at his feet. He inhaled through the cigarette and held his breath. When he let out the smoke, he took a glance at Steve.

Steve had still that annoying amused smirk on his face that Billy didn’t quite know how he should react to.

“What?” he asked, slight annoyance in his voice.

“Nothing,” Steve replied and the smirk turned into a smile.

“You know what, Harrington? Fuck you!” Billy snapped. He stomped the cigarette under his boot and started towards the driver’s door.

This was an epic mistake. Legendary, even. He was barely holding in the tears, for that this, the most important thing to him ever, too, had turned out to be just another disappointment in his sad, pathetic life.

Steve came after him and grabbed his arm when he already had his other foot inside the car.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Steve asked, baffled.

“Fuck you, Harrington,” was everything Billy managed to say. He tried to pull his arm off but Steve had a tight grip on it.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I did something wrong. This is new to me too,” Steve said, clearly upset as well.

Billy bit his lip, showing an alarming amount of feelings for his own taste. He felt like a deer in the headlights, ready to run away as fast as the Camaro would take him from the first sign of alarm.

“I'm just happy to see you. I didn’t think you’d show up,” Steve continued, easing his grip on Billy’s arm.

Fuuuuck. In his panic Billy had read the signs wrong.

He clenched his jaw and looked at Steve. He realized that in the dusk Steve probably hadn't seen his discomfort in the situation at all.

Billy coughed. “Right,” he said and took his foot out of the car. “Sorry,” he said to his own surprise and closed the door leaning to it.

Steve leaned to the door as well, next to him, so close that their arms touched. They looked at each other, both unsure what to do next. Both feeling the other one trembling.

Billy had actual butterflies in his stomach. He had never felt like this on any date he’d been on before. And now all he wanted to do was--

His thought was interrupted when Steve suddenly turned to him, cupped his chin in his hands and kissed him.

Billy melted. Utterly and totally. Every single thought left his mind. He put his arms around Steve and returned the kiss, hard. He had waited this moment as if for forever. To kiss someone he had wanted so bad for a long time. Really wanted. Not to kiss to play his alpha male game, or any other games he’d played. But to show that he felt something.

They broke the kiss after who knows how long, maybe forever, as it had felt like. They leaned their foreheads against each other, still hugging.

Sound of a car in the distance woke them up from the dreamy situation. They let go of each other and Steve took few steps away looking at the passing car casually as if they had been just talking.

“So...” Billy asked quietly when the car had passed. “What now?”

“What do you mean ‘What now’? Wasn’t I clear enough?” Steve asked, smirking.

“Yeah...I mean, sure,” he replied, feeling his cheeks starting to burn.

Shit shit shit. He hated to feel like this. Not knowing what to do. He felt so fucking vulnerable and he hated every bit of it.

"Hey, you want to go for a ride?" Steve asked and glanced at the Camaro. "Or we could break into the mill. I don't like being outside like this."

Billy's heart sank. "So, you're ashamed to be here?" he asked, his hands immediately starting to clench into fists, and him getting ready to give Harrington the beat-up of his life.

"No. I mean that I want to talk properly somewhere where you can feel safe."

Steve took the few steps back to Billy, and leaned both his hands on the Camaro, leaving Billy between them. Then he leaned so close to Billy that their noses almost touched. "I, Steve Harrington, want to get to know you, Billy Hargrove. Right now I feel awkward and shy and all that shit people feel when they meet for the first time like this. I can tell that you feel the same way. And because neither of us feel safe to be here right now, and all I want is to you to feel safe. With me. Always," he whispered.

Billy blinked as his mind went blank, again. This was too much. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He hadn't even dared to dream that this was the way the meet would be. Yet he was so out of his comfort zone that it wasn't even funny any more. Steve had totally taken over and left him no option but to just follow his lead.

So he did the only thing he could: he shook the keys of the Camaro in his hand. On the driver's seat, he hoped, he would at least feel a bit more in control.

[cherrywrites626]

WNGTI Chapter 8 Sneak Peek

It didn't take long after their arrival for the station wagon to pull up and park beside the van, the occupants inside filing out to the tune of rich laughter and smiles so large you'd think they'd already forgotten the town was in peril and that they were some of the only people who knew what to do to fix it.

"Hey Steve, enjoy the nap," Robin teased as she trotted over to where he was still in the process of unlocking the front door, foisting a greasy bag into his arms far too heavy to be for his consumption alone and snatching the keys away to finish the job in his stead.

Eddie didn't wait for him to adjust to the new role of bag boy in the slightest, crowding into his personal space a heartbeat later in order to tear into the contents with reckless abandon, frowning over at the girl a moment later with an adorable little pout.  "What, no curly fries," he huffed, apparently displeased with the selection offered to him.

"Sorry, Munson," she replied with a shrug, attention focused on her hands attempting to find the sweet spot without a porch light to illuminate the area.  The lock clicked a moment later, and the girl swung the door open wide, glancing over her shoulder as she stepped into the darkened foyer with a grin.  "The kids and Wheeler wanted food from the diner.  You were outvoted one to five."

"Heathens don't even know what's good," he muttered, arms crossed over his chest as he followed closely at her heel.  "Honestly, who doesn't like their potato with a little extra wave?  It's literally the superior technique in every sense of the word."

"I like curly fries," Steve chimed in as he brought up the rear, shifting the bag around to avoid the potential of grease stains marring his white tee.  "But then again, I like most fried foods."

"See, Buckley.  Even Harrington knows how to be adventurous," Eddie announced, snaking an arm around his shoulders and giving him a good shake to emphasize the point.  "You could learn a thing or two from him."

"Steve's opinion doesn't count in this case," Robin proclaimed with a dismissive wave thrown over her shoulder, flicking on lights as she passed through the kitchen into the dining area and then circled back around toward the couch.  With the final one lit, she turned to face the two of them with a wicked smirk, hands fisting her hips and eyes locked onto his with a weighty purpose.  "I'm pretty certain he's into both."

"You're just mad he agreed with me first," the other continued, releasing his hold and heading in the same general direction as if nothing about that statement was amiss. 

They continued to argue back and forth, but Steve didn't hear what more was said, face aflame and ears deaf against the rush of blood pounding through his head at the implication and possible truth therein.

So maybe he'd discovered after a bit of soul searching that he was slightly less on the straight and narrow than most believed him to be given his past habits of speed-running the small pool of available females in his age range as if they were oxygen he was a man in desperate need of a quick breath.

It wasn't a crime to find certain qualities attractive in another person no matter their gender.  Objective observation of what features he liked and didn't wasn't the same thing as inherent interest, per se.  Robin of all people shouldn't be giving him shit for figuring things out before he was ready to have a repeat of their very private discussion the year prior.

And that was if he ever decided it was actually a thing he was willing to explore further, which was unlikely given the grief it caused his friend on a near daily basis wondering at the deeper meaning behind every look and smile and laugh she received after carefully masking all attempts at flirting into something passable as innocent friendship all while still making a point to be direct enough any receptive party would understand the underlying intent.  

Sticking with girls only for the foreseeable future sounded far less exhausting to him overall.  Plus there was the small matter of having nobody he liked enough to try.  Certainly not with the world on the brink of annihilation.

--------------------------------------------

Read the last chapter on Ao3 and stay tuned for this one coming soon

[and-but-so]

Deflated

The day began as any morning before an exam: with anxiety, feelings of unpreparedness. I sloshed some cereal into my mouth while gulping iced coffee and frantically scrolling my notes for chance nuggets of information. As prepared as I might ever feel, I slid into the car and drove out on 76 towards the suburban Jefferson campus to sit for an exam that would be immediately followed by a day-long intensive. My body tightened up as GPS took me winding down Lincoln drive, a narrow parkway with a 25 mph speed limit that sees an average of 40 mph. I managed clueless mergers, reckless speeders, and regular pedestrians walking the sidewalks of Mount Airy with their dogs. At last, I turned onto Stenton Ave escaping the dangers of the parkway when I noticed a flapping sound. Unsure if it was the souped-up Dodge Charger in the lane to my left with a loud muffler, I went another block or so. I pulled onto Willow Grove Avenue on the next turn, still in denial about the possibilities and stopped to check out my fender which, perhaps was just flapping the wind. The fender and front tire appeared normal. Then I glanced back and saw my left rear wheelrim and flaccid tire tread in touch with the ground. I groaned audibly, got in the car and looked at the GPS: 8.2 miles of suburban road to reach my destination. Test start time 9:35, current time 8:44. I could never make it on the flat. Even the sound of driving a short distance had me reeling. I pulled over in a panic on the next block, a quiet, tree-lined paradise, aptly named Pleasant Street. 

After a few seconds of figuring I remembered how, in undergrad, I was heading to a suburban clinical site with a classmate when she got a flat tire on the same stretch of road where mine probably occurred. We ended up getting a tow to a nearby auto shop where we sat and waited for a flat fix while our instructor threatened that we would have to make up the whole clinical day if we didn’t show up soon to feed the retirement village residents their rice pudding.

I looked up a Lyft and decided to book the most expensive option, a rapidly arriving $33 ride to Jefferson’s Dixon campus. I cursed, let the appropriate people know my status, and stood on the humid summer roadside with my bag awaiting my chariot. Nestor pulled up minutes later in a black Toyota. 

I got in and sighed audibly, 

“Thanks a lot for picking me up, I have a test this morning and I just got a flat tire.” ”Wow, that’s something. You know, everything happens for a reason.”

I pondered that as I sat in the car listening to the morning broadcast on 106.7 K-Love, a Christian devotional radio station. I gazed around the car, seeing his phone slanted in a horizontal orientation providing GPS instructions that read sideways. On the inside of his windshield was a decal, mostly worn off that said “B- Str--- Coura--”

At one forking intersection, Nestor asked me almost rhetorically which road he was supposed to veer right onto. I shrugged as if as the passenger I was supposed to know. We got to the nursing school satellite campus with time to spare and I thanked him again. He wished me good luck. At 4:15pm, after the dizziness and claustrophobia of my sardine-packed intensive school day settled, I got back to the car with assistance from my classmate Madeline, making panicked moves to contact State Farm the whole way there. They were not responding and their online form led me continuously into a digital brick wall. “Policy number not found”, “VIN not on file”.

I got there with the intention of just doing it myself at this point. I unloaded the hatchback full of useless junk jammed in a milkcrate to uncover the spare tire and found the only real gift of the day: my missing pair of vice grips that I had all but given up on finding. One good thing from all of this.

I gratefully used the vice grips to forcefully yank a 4cm triangle of jagged, pointed metal out of the tire’s tread.

Next, I removed the lugs and jacked up the vehicle, but when I went to unseat the wheel, it wouldn’t budge. I yanked, I pried, I lubricated the hub with motor oil, leaned on it, spun it, kicked it. I dripped sweat onto my shorts, my shoes, my eyes as I awkwardly tried to land a blow with my foot that would make the wheel move. I pried with the tire iron and at last, it came free. I sat on the curb for a second before thrusting the spare into place and tightening it down. I lowered the jack and sank into the driver’s seat, enjoying the one sip of water that remained in my bottle.

I remembered all the while that yesterday I opted to take an offered escape pod home from my scheduled 12-hour clinical shift. With that graciously given time I studied, I breathed, and I enjoyed a short respite at Mike Vee’s Name-That-Tune quizzo to top it off. I’m left seeing the many squandered opportunities and blaming myself. 

After I change my tire, on my way back down Cresheim Valley Drive, towards home, I saw on the shoulder a miserable-looking, sweaty family sitting on the roof of their car, its front left tire obviously flat. I breathed out. Not 200 feet later, another car was on the shoulder with a flat, and within sight, a third vehicle disabled with the same. “Everything happens for a reason”, I thought.

[egipci]

ten first lines game

Tagged by the wonderful @amiwritesthings

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have

Five Nights at the Super 8: "In Omaha Dad has another one of those nights, and all a fifteen year old can do is pour the rest of the whiskey down the toilet, look through Dad’s jacket for the car keys and the wallet and through the wallet for a twenty, pull the curtains shut, pull his baby brother by the wrist, turn the lights off, make sure the salt line is neat and thick along the threshold, make sure the do-not-disturb sign is facing out on the door handle, say nothing to the gum-smacking chick with the track marks next door, smile and wink at the housekeeping lady, hold his baby brother’s hand all the way down the stairs, puff his chest out as they make their way hand-in-hand to the car where it’s parked in the lot, make sure his baby brother is inside and his door is closed all the way and only then get in the car, drag the bench closer to the wheel, fix the rear-view mirror, fix the left-side mirror, turn the key in the ignition and let the engine warm up first, turn Robert Plant’s wailing down, put both hands on the wheel, lean up enough to see down the hood, take a deep breath, remember that he has known how to drive already for eighteen months, turn right out of the parking lot very carefully and when there are no other cars to be seen, turn the high beams on because it’s very dark, keep both hands on the wheel, stick to the speed limit on that long lonely road, sigh in exaggerated relief when they make it to the strip mall, grin at his baby brother and say c’mon squirt time for dinner, order two burgers and fries to split and a vanilla milkshake, smile and wink at the waitress, turn the straw wrapper into a soggy worm for the one thousandth time, remind his baby brother that Dad does important work out there in the world — that he saves people — that sometimes he deserves a break and that he will soon be okay again and that he will always protect them, order another burger for Dad before they go so it’s still warm when they get back except Dad probably will never eat it and it will spoil, stop at the convenience store for a PayDay and the Lucky Charms his baby brother loves to eat with no milk, keep his head down and ignore what the four men standing outside say about his pretty boy mouth, smile and wink at the lady behind the register, ignore what the four men standing outside say about candy and all the other things they can give him, drive very carefully back to the Super 8, tell the receptionist lady working the night shift that they will be staying another night and can you please charge it on the same credit card, smile and wink on the way out, open the room door very quietly and without turning on the light or breaking the salt line, lock the door behind them, make sure his baby brother brushes his teeth before bed, pull his baby brother by the wrist and feel around in the dark for the way to the bed, make sure his baby brother is tucked in, get into Dad’s bed and scoot close enough to hear his breathing, put his hand on Dad’s arm and say very quietly we just got back Dad, say we got back safe, say we got you something to eat, wait for Dad’s hand on his shoulder, imagine Dad saying good job."

New Year's Eve, 2002: "The I-70 stretches winding through the Rockies between Grand Junction and Denver, and on it the cars race, their metal hot and gleaming in the setting sun, and among them there is a car black as night coming from Moab and inside the car there you are and there is your father beside you."

Bedside Vigil: "Babies just die in their sleep sometimes, his wife had said, for no reason at all, so the father, fatherless almost his whole life, would stand by the crib and look down at his baby sleeping and panic when he could not make out the movement of his tiny chest, the rise and fall of his ribs stretched so far apart the silence could stop a father’s heart so that more than once the father had shaken the baby awake so that the baby had screamed and more than once the father had only looked at his baby unmoving in his crib and was paralyzed by fear, frozen by fear, could not touch his baby for fear the baby’s lungs had given out or his heart or his brain, whatever it is that makes babies die in their sleep, so that more than once the father had screamed for his wife and his baby had screamed and his wife had screamed and run up the stairs and taken the baby into her arms and held his head up with her hand and shushed him and swayed him and said to the father what the hell is wrong with you you keep making him cry and only then was the father comforted because as long as the baby was crying he was breathing and as long as he was breathing the father was sure he was alive. "

excellent as the cedars: "John has this dream where Dean grows to be forty years old."

Colorado, what now?: "Dad said they’d meet back here, but he isn’t here, and Dean — after he takes inventory of his surroundings: some high school kids at the pool table, a girl leaning her cheek on the back of her hand atop her cue, twirling her hair with the other; a couple at eight o’clock, the man’s hand over his wife’s on the table, speaking in a fast, serious-looking way; no cold spots and no signs of fangs or claws and no eyes of non-human shape, quiet all around — after he smiles widely at the bartender and asks how do you do and how is business and a little too cold for October don’t you think, and she says great thanks and slow it’s one of those weeknights and yes indeed heard there might be a storm with her head tilted and eyes narrowed, because he’s been here in this bar before — after he orders a whiskey neat, having little cash because he drove all day from New Orleans, enough to pay for his liquor but only just, but ordering still for the tightness in his chest and because he is already a high-functioning alcoholic and not trying to stop — sits and sips his drink and waits."

Epilogue: "Next time it will be brighter so he can better see his boy."

Doll Parts: "Before the Sierra Dad had another car, a Plymouth he had gotten for next to nothing from Bobby’s yard when he’d decided having two cars was better than one for the committing of felonies and quick get-aways and so on, when he’d decided to leave the Impala to Dean."

March Madness in Carson City: "Dad just saw him, he’s pretty sure."

Conversion Story: "They sat on the right side of the aisle— Dean next to Sam next to Dad, and to Dean’s right there were feet of old pew with the polish peeling."

Hospice: "You and your brother are in a motel in Ypsilanti, on Christmas Eve, and you almost died today and were saved by fruitcake."

[strawberry-nugget]

𝙈𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘 | E.Kirishima x Reader

Pairing: Kirishima/ reader, Bakugo/ reader (mentioned)

Summary: You shouldn't want him and he shouldn't want you, it's sinful and forbidden. But he can't help coming back to you, and you can't do anything but take him in every single time. Until today that is.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Aged up characters (twenties), NSFW 18+, plot with some p//rn but it's not very detailed, unprotected sex (please use condoms everyone), cheating, casual penetrative sex, jealousy, the seggz is pretty vanilla though

↪A/N: tennis player Kirishima, tennis player Kirishima, idk how I came up with it but I can't get it out of my head, written for @doinmybesthere 's 3k event collab and based on The Hills by the Weeknd, don't be shy to tell me if you liked it, I almost wrote 4k in a day which is unusual for me

5.30pm [Missed Call: Red]

5.31pm [Missed Calls(2): Red]

The bubbling notifications are spamming your phone, each call, succeeding the other in persistence and length, making your phone crawl onto your coffee table in restless buzzing. To your salvation the device is on silent; you're just unable to bear the overwhelming sound of your ringtone echo through the empty walls of your apartment, to let it bounce between concrete like a slimy ball, only for it to hit you on the face with tremendous force.

It's one of those days that you can't answer Kirishima. Too perplexed in the wields of your mind, blaming yourself for this horrendous situation, delivering raw swears at him for simply existing.

You don't know how it came to this nor when was the exact moment things switched. Was it at the party that you met him? Or the thousandth time you took him in and let him ruin relationship after relationship. Either way it was horrible for not only you, but also him, and all the people that have been caught up in the sidelines of this rotten affair.

You shouldn't want this anymore and truly, you don't. You're tired of being the second choice, of hiding behind your little finger, crying yourself to sleep at night, only to put on a sultry face for every time he comes. Once, twice a month.

[New Messages: Red]

Babe, you there?

Read 5.38pm

[New Messages: Red]

Babe I got practice at 8.

I know you're reading those.

Read 5.39pm

[Red is typing…]

[New Messages: Red]

I'm outside btw

A fresh, tremendously sharp wave of anxiety rushes through you at the little notification -it can't be like this again, not today. The thudder in your chest is unbearable, heart too weak to stomach the weight of your decision, fingers too reluctant to type out your response.

He's probably smirking while staring at his phone, not a single care in his head. It's loathing to your mind as you confirm your speculation, shooting a glance out of your window, landing your eyes on his car.

He shouldn't be here.

His thousands dollar car doesn't belong in your urban street, not in your side of the town. And it's so dangerous that he's doing this to see you. You've played the worst scenarios in your head a thousand times, millions of headlines on sites and the news about this; Eijirou Kirishima, on his way to claiming a fifth Grand Slam, caught in affair with university student.

Atrocious, degrading, exposing. A hit to his career that would bother the media for a couple of weeks and paint your name in mud along the way.

Why can't he just be content with the model that he's with? You're nothing like her, not as pretty and you don't have her body, you don't have her face, but he still says he finds you better, says he knows you better, but he just can't be with you.

[You]

Can't do it today

Sorry

You're good to yourself, only when you deny him and only when you feel the satisfaction of being the one to do so. It's pointless to sulk over saying no. He can go fuck other girls, play with their hearts and leave you to your otherwise peaceful life. Even if it is just for today.

You don't have the chance to let a smile creep to your face when your doorbell rings. The jiggling sound bursts into your eardrums once and twice, three dreaded times and they're enough to make your stomach churn, your neck tight and your skin ache.

You contemplate on opening the door for him, subconsciously letting yourself feel like a vulnerable prey, who, after running away to save yourself, is choosing to walk into the wolf's den, so willingly that you can feel yourself drifting away with each step you're taking towards the door.

"Babe,"

The swing of your door handle, the crack of your wrist, the creaking of your door as it opens to reveal him; they're all embarrassing. You can't tell if they fall short on his ears, too caught up in the way he looks -all swollen muscles and tall legs. You're running out of courage to say no and he knows this.

He's not as innocent as this cheeky smile frames him out to be, he's not the sweetheart everyone wants him to be either.

He's Eijirou, who's selfishly standing on your door, who's barging his way in your apartment, who's grabbing your cheeks and slamming your face in his, biting your lips until he draws blood, just to punish you for standing up against him.

Your door is slammed behind him, one bend of his knee and it's falling into its rightful place. To shield the sins of your affair, to bring you comfort and privacy as he attacks parts of your neck, your chest. Places that only squeeze perfectly under his touch.

"Babe," He calls again, in between soft kisses. "What's gotten into you?"

You frown and try to look away, past his cocoa colored orbs, past the swelling that's taking over his lips -and yours- with a numbing, tingling sensation.

"Eijirou—"

"I don't have much time in between training, I got a game the day after tomorrow."

It's always like this, you know. He doesn't have to tell you twice or try to excuse his own self for what he does or how he acts. You're pushed between schedules, or slammed into his timetable like a truck when he feels like indulging with you again, hidden between the lines of his free time.

You're sure at this point that it's the thrill he's after. The sinful taste of your lips on his, how he feels in control while chasing after you, when you can't keep up with him.

His lips don't taste like sour cherry anymore, but you let them wiggle against yours with triumph, you let him want to catch his breath as he pulls back and you put the minimum effort in returning the passion you receive.

You pull back, ignoring the words he's whispering against your face, only to take in his features once again.

Soft black hair pulled into a low ponytail, spiky bangs that fly all over his face and his tips drowned in a fiery, foxy red. The only reminder for who he was before his tennis career blew up. For who he was before he turned into this cocky womanizer whom you're desperately after with a longing heart.

"I'm just not in the mood today."

"Well let's get you in the mood then huh?"

He smiles, nose scrunching and chapped lips hiding behind his gums as his hand moves to your thigh, tagging your shorts with furry. As if he's desperate to have you, right here and now. As if bending you over the couch will help put out a fire in him. That's how he always convinces you to keep this going.

He's making you feel like not having you this way is insufferable.

You're buried in the crook of his neck while being pushed onto the couch, nibbling a soft spot that you've found, rubbing his skin on the top of your tongue. You know how to do this without leaving a mark, you can hold back from wanting to take all you can get from him.

But today it's different. It's going to be the last time.

It's not like any other time you've told yourself that you are going to end this. Today you're going to leave a mark, you're going to bite your way into his skin and drink from his poison -the intimate attention he's only ever willing to give- and you'll get drunk in it.

"Fuck," He grunts against your lips. "Fuck, don't stop that feels good."

You don't stop, eager to listen to him, to breathe into his neck before you wrap your lips a little lower and closer to his collarbone. You should be asking if this will cause him problems, but gone is the guilt that veils your coinsense otherwise. You suckle on a spot and then another, stealing his groaning moans one by one as they fall from his lips, plushing them softly in a spongy part of your brain, where they can rest forever, until you've forgotten them.

"Get your shirt off Eijirou," You plea, ogling eyes watering from the pressure that's applied in the apex of your thighs and he's quick to follow your command, lips curling upwards in a sweetheart smirk.

You're going to miss the way the apples of his cheeks cover his eyes when he smiles like this. But there's no going back for you and him.

With legs that feel like burning rubber you hug around his horse, watching the way his muscles flex and fold with his snappy movements. His shirt, tousled and wrinkly, tossed in an unknown corner of your living room, only for him to guess where it is after he's gotten his fix of you.

Thick fingers probe at your sides, pulling your shirt downwards in a silent plea, take off your shirt, give him the satisfaction that he wants, indulge into this as much as he wants you to.

But today, you're not in the mood for this. So instead of pulling your shirt off, you unbuckle your pants, pulling them down at the most dreadful speed, making him bite his lip impatiently.

You won't miss this, the way he's expecting so many things of you.

And if he notices something's wrong, he doesn't say a word, presumably content with getting what he wants; the rear view of the gap between your legs, where he can bury himself and get lost for the next thirty minutes.

"Fuck baby," he moans. "Why do you smell so good?"

You grunt, averting your gaze from his as he pushes your bangs away from your face with the back of his hand. You want to miss his puppy eyes. Ghosting him won't be easier for you if you don't.

But damn if he couldn't read you this well, things would be easier.

"Not in the mood to talk?" You look even further away to avoid the question, "babe, you can tell me if you're not well, you'll feel better if you let it out"

You don't need someone to tell you how to feel. You've decided when the two of you are going to be through. It's set and done, even if he feels at the top of the world right now, you won't inflate his ego anymore.

"M fine Eijirou, put it in," You bite his lip, putting huge effort in making him forget about what he thinks it's bothering you. "Want you to put it in m'kay?"

Sultry, fake voice, he's heard it all before and he doesn't have the right to call you out for it. Whatever he does next, you're his for the moment and for the last time.

Repeating is your rightful way of convincing yourself of not giving up on your decision. If only he could have broken up before deciding to wet himself in you, if only you hadn't taken him so eagerly, if only you hadn't become just like him. Welcoming him despite availability status, afraid to lose him, saying that a little sex wouldn't hurt. If you could do this on repeat, then you could get rid of him quite as easily.

You're not better than him and he's taken your vulnerability to him for granted. He's loved the attention you've paid him from time to time, whenever he's given you so much as a mere call.

You should pretend to moan, to hurt his ego, but as he's delving into you, slowly, mellowy, his kisses feel like burning sunshine, August breeze against your skin, kissing your shoulders lightly. It hurts that this salvation is coming from his mouth, as it moves rhythmically against every inch of you.

"Fuck, fuck, ah, you feel so good, you know that?"

You don't answer, nor do you wrap your lips around him. You don't move them against his when he goes to kiss you, but you coo into his warm embrace once his hands come to cradle you in a tight embrace.

"I love you," He slips up and you contemplate on whether you have to start hating him from this very moment. "I just wanna be with you, I—" He grunts. “—this is why you don't believe him, but nonetheless you hold a moan in as well. "Fuck, I'll break up just for you.”

Now that's a new one. A new addition to the long list of red flags you have with his name on top. You can't fall for it. You absolutely can't. If you do, he'll treat you just like this, he'll fuck behind your back and kiss you goodnight before going off to sleep with someone else. Like he's slept with you, once, twice, thrice.

And you're going to hate being the one who's fooled, despite deserving it more than anyone else. And another girl, or guy, is going to be his subject of desire.

You shouldn't want him to be yours, but you're lewding your 'I love yous' out of your mouth like they're nothing, poisoning your heart until there's nothing left but dust and sucked up blood, all devoured by the greed he's made you feel.

"You love me too?"

"I do," You cry, rocked between him and the couch, neck hurting by the way he's digging his teeth in yours.

"I'll fucking leave everything for you babe,"

He shouldn't. He won't. You tell yourself he's only saying this because he wants to come, to make you feel dirty with his actions and fish out words that make him ecstatic or send him over the edge from your mouth.

Rhythms are peaking, his hips burning from his movements, foreheads are dripping in sweat, lips taste salty against each other. The perfect picture, the most tingling sensation, and you're too fucked to go back, or keep yourself content with him. It feels the same as the last time, a numbing knot in your stomach, commanding you to rip your heart out and throw it away, spooning mewls out of your mouth.

If you could, you'd mute him, not wanting to listen to how beautiful he sounds as he's coming down from his high. If you could, you'd look away, and wouldn't try to burn the image of his body as he's falling apart in your mind.

"That was—" The sigh that leaves his chest through his mouth is liberating, you can tell—"amazing. I still love you, so much babe."

His hand soothing the pain of his thrusts, does nothing to make you feel better. You want to shove it away, but you don't, unhappy with the way you're turning out to be.

"It's time for you to go, Eijirou, isn't it?" You remind him. A hand pushing him off of you and quickly smoothing your T-shirt over your legs to deprive him of the view that'd make him wear a smug of triumph.

"So quick to get me to go. Did you find someone else again sweetheart?"

You don't reply as you're putting on your underwear and pants, shoving his shirt into him with a heavy hand.

"You did, didn't you?"

"None of your business, go off to your practice, your girl, don't patronize me anymore."

He gruffs, beautiful features scowling in that stormy gaze that reeks of his authority, "Here I am pouring my heart on you and you found someone else"

"Eijirou, it's seven thirty, if I were you, I wouldn't be late for practice. You got a game the day after tomorrow."

No more dealing with his pouting, you're going to bawl your eyes out if you have to do it. The sooner he's out of your house, the sooner you'll get this over with; the tight lamp in your throat, the image of him smiling at you like this, him admitting feelings that he shouldn't have.

Hurting him isn't the role that suits you. Because you can't do it. You can't hurt that warm sunshine he has on his face. He has to be the one to hurt you like he's been the one to drive you away. It's too late for him to change or reverse your roles.

You don't want to fight and he knows it.

He knows you, so well, well enough to use you as he wishes to, letting you believe you're using him too. You're going to make him watch you slip away, and he won't do anything about this.

So he's eager to leave as you're pushing him out of the door, he doesn't cup your cheek with his hand, and doesn't kiss your forehead tenderly like he always does.

"You should come to this party Mina is throwing, let me meet your new guy."

Like hell you'd ever do this, he knows, but teasing won't hurt a bit. Eijirou can deal with you dating other men, he's claimed you well before, he'll do it again if he has to, especially now that he's decided to have you.

"Yeah yeah, and if I do, don't ever call me again, 'kay?"

You're too good to not do as he says, or not to fall back to him, and he's too good to not come back to you. To him, you're a match made in heaven, to you, you're a lost cause, burning in the fiery pits of hell as atonement for your sins.

He doesn't know that you'll fall apart before dressing up, how you'll tell yourself you're not doing this for him, but as a statement against him.

You're no better than him, in fact, you're worse.

…

The only problem is, that when Eijirou pulls up at Mina's party after practice, you're already there. Drink in your hand, flared jeans hugging your legs, layered tank tops that cover the bruising truth of this evening, laughing at whatever your friends are saying.

When he puts out his phone, calloused fingers furiously typing a text addressed to you, you're too far gone into another glass, dancing a little dance before grabbing everyone's cups to go for a refill, greeting them in that silent way of yours, drunken smile.

And then you'll pass him by and blink at him, you'll mutter a small greeting and he'll grab you by the hand and whisper in your ear just how hard he'll take you driving the night. You'll swoon, moan, forget about the drinks and follow him anywhere he leads you.

That's how everybody knows about the two of you.

This time, though, you don't cast a single eye on him. In fact, you're tainting him, walking past him while ignoring him, leaving him awestruck and hurt, like his confessions earlier in the day meant nothing to you.

It's a hit to his heart, how your jaw drops as you bump into Bakugo over the kitchen counter, eyes too wide at the sight of him. How your finger dances playfully on his chest and as you smile at him when he whispers something in your ear.

It's infuriating how you drop the cups near the sink and follow Bakugo outside, or how the blond waves at him with a pressed smile against his lips, signaling that he'll be busy for a while.

His insides churn, tummy aching in a feeling of guilt, one unlike anything he's felt before. Losing you doesn't taste in the way he thought he would, it's worse; sour and poisoning. It makes him flee the party, furious and bitter.

When he's back, his body is heavy, feet dragging him across his apartment, mind blank as he follows his basic routine before bed time, fixated on how easy it seemed for you to just ignore him and flee with one of his friends as soon as he came over to the party he invited you to, wondering how you could be so ruthless with him all of a sudden.

Sweet talking Kirishima with a smile of gold, the sweetheart of the professional Tennis scene and you're over him in the split of a second, pushing him away from you without an explanation or heart wrenching speech. Not giving him the satisfaction of some closure, just forcing the cold tempo of your sudden departure in the depths of his heart.

He pays no mind to the girl that sleeps beside him, back turned to him like she's oceans apart, despite the unspoken bound that's keeping them together. He'll leave her, make up for all the damage that he's done, in any way that he can manage to.

It all comes down to the fact that no one can love you like he does, no one can want you like he does. Someone can do it better, but you have to want him.

5.30am [Missed Call: Red]

5.31am [Missed Calls(2): Red]

[New Message: Red]

Fuck, with Bakugo out of everyone?

Delivered: 5.31am

[New Message: Red]

Did you have sex with him?

Babe answer me.

Delivered: 5.32am

[New Message: Red]

I'm breaking up with her tomorrow morning.

And I'll come over.

Babe.

Babe please.

Delivered: 5.33am

[New Message: Red]

I'll take you on a date and we can talk about us okay babe?

Let me know when you wake up.

I love you.

So much.

Delivered: 5.38am

Read: 10.23pm

[You]

(Attached Image)

Sorry 'Red' even if you sound like a total douche, cheeks forgot her phone at my place.

I bet on her answering your late night drama when she takes her phone back.

[Red is typing...]

Super thanks to @celestidarling for proofreading this and giving me the biggest pump of confidence to post

↪Up Next: Dragon King Bakugo

[vinvantae]

ᴛᴡɪɴ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ

Part 8/25

<< Previous Part

Rating - mature

Warnings - Alcohol, Explicit Language, Mentions of sex, Angst

******************

‘Careful out there! Stroll’s left rear has just burst!’

“Oh what the fuck, is there debris on the track?”

‘Red flag. Red flag. We’re going to have a safety car restart.’

You pulled up on the grid; the race was going amazingly; the team’s strategy had meant your pit stop had put you out in front of Lewis, separating him and Max. The victory was Redbull’s. You tapped nervously on your steering wheel as you waited for the race to start again - lap 35. All you had to do was keep Lewis behind you and hope the idiot didn’t crash you out again.

‘There was no debris, the tire just exploded - be careful y/n. Hang back and hold up Lewis.’

The adrenaline was rushing through your veins as you sped around the track. Max had a comfortable lead and Lewis was close behind you with only 3 laps to go.

‘Max is out! Safety car. Repeat. Max is out! His tire blew out. You are now the race leader y/n.’

What the fuck. Race leader? Fuck. You’d been so hell bent on keeping Lewis backed up that he was going to be right on your ass for the final three laps of the race. You had a moment of relief when they Red-flagged the race to clear up Max’s car. You jogged over to your teammate. “Max, mate, what the fuck happened?”

“Same thing as Stroll, my tire just fucking exploded.” He groaned, clearly pissed off. “You’ve got to win this now y/n. It’s your chance to get back at Lewis for the stunt he pulled in Monaco.”

“I’ve never won an F1 race before.” You took a deep breath. “And Lewis is gonna be right behind me.”

“No no. Don’t get in your head, you can do this.” Max said, shaking you gently. “You’re gonna go out there and win this fucking race.”

Dan came up behind you and draped an arm over his shoulder. “How’s it going, race leader?”

“Don’t. I’m already shitting myself.” You looked up at him and he chuckled softly. He was in surprisingly good spirits despite the fact he was currently out of the points.

“Hey, can I not want my best friend to win her first race?” He smiled softly, eyes soft and fond as he looked down at you. The time passed between the two races had really brought the two of you back into a steady place. When he said he’d do anything to fix the friendship, you could tell he had meant it.

“Back in your cars please. 10 minutes to restart.” A Redbull engineer said, popping his head into the conversation. “Good luck, y/n.”

“Thanks.” You felt breathless. You had two laps left. Two laps until your first ever formula one victory and you were terrified, excited and nauseous all at once.

You climbed back into your car, the road ahead of you clear. Lewis, Sebastian, Pierre and Charles were all behind you - none of them were going to make it easy for you. But you focused yourself; now was the time to be the driver that had got you into this sport - fiery, risky, fast. She needed to be in the driver's seat more than ever in order for you to win this race and you wanted it so badly. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you watched the lights tick down. Two laps. Let’s go.

You pressed your foot down on the gas and sped away from the start line but Lewis was close; the nose his car ahead of yours before the Brit fucked up big time. He locked up and drove off the track at the first turn, oh my god, your chances of winning had just skyrocketed - you raced like the pro you were. And before you knew it, you saw the checkered flag.

‘P1, y/n! You’ve done it!’ Your engineer screamed, you could hear the loud cheers from Max and your team in the background.

“Fucking hell yeah! Thank you so much guys! I can’t believe it!” You laughed, waving to the crowd who were celebrating and cheering for you. When you joined the sport you’d never expected to have the response like this - they were loving you. You pulled up to Parc Fermé and behind the first place banner. The podium wasn’t the line up you expected - Vettel and Pierre. You clambered out of your car and cheered; number one, baby!

As you stepped down from your car, you were swept up in a hug by Pierre. You squeezed him tight - both of you laughed. “You won the race, mon amour!”

It was then you both realised… you’d not actually spoken to him since the incident. He let you down from the embrace and stepped back awkwardly; pulling his helmet over his head. You did the same and your eyes met; he smiled shyly at you. “Congratulations, Pierre.”

“Thank you.” He whispered before heading over to his team. You followed suit and rushed over to your team, letting them envelope you in the biggest hug.

“You smashed it!”

“Great job, y/n!”

“The pit crew were fantastic! Getting me out in front of Lewis was the game changing moment, thank you.” You smiled towards the pit-crew boys; who were all blushing from the compliment. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have a first place trophy with my name on it!”

The team all cheered for you as you went upstairs to the podium. Sebastian smiled at you and shook your hand, congratulating you on your work - like he hadn’t just gone from 11th to 2nd. Your eyes met Pierre’s and he blushed a little. “Can we talk after this, y/n?”

“Of course.” You smiled softly; you’d missed his company - you were just scared of what happening at the party coming back to the surface and Dan remembering it. But now wasn’t the time; you jogged out onto the podium to receive your trophy.

You ran over to the barrier and held it above your head - earning the loudest cheer you’d heard in your life. You’d never felt like this before; the crowd were celebrating and hundreds of Australian flags seemed to have appeared from thin air. Your team looked proud. Max looked proud. Dan looked… something. Looking at your childhood friend, despite the fact he was clapping for you there was clearly something on his mind. God damn, let me celebrate.

You slammed your sparkling wine against the floor and dumped it all over your competitors, making sure to give Pierre a good drenching before blowing a kiss out into the crowd.

Party time.

You were absolutely going to take the night off to celebrate with your team and whoever else felt like joining in. As you were swarmed with people congratulating you - the air was lively and chatty. Christian hired out a terrace for your celebrations and champagne and conversation was flowing freely. Pierre caught your eye and nodded over to a quiet area - but before you could even think of moving, Dan swept you up in a massive bear hug.

“There she is! My winner!” You saw his eyes briefly flicker to Pierre before his attention was all yours.

You smiled softly. “Congrats to you on those final two laps. I know it’s not what you wanted but you got into the points and that counts for something.”

“Even after winning your first race, you’re still celebrating my achievements. Babe, my ego is big enough…” He spun you around. “Tonight is all about you!”

You giggled. “Thanks Dan, I do need to talk to Pierre though.”

The Australian pouted, stop being so cute. “But I wanna hang out with you.”

“You can! I won’t be long, go annoy Max for a little.” You cooed, giving him a quick squeeze. “I’ll come find you as soon as I’m done.”

“Fiiiiine.” He groaned before releasing you from his arms - allowing you to join the Frenchman on a quiet bench at the edge of the balcony. He looked nervous, his sharp jawline tense.

“Pierre, listen… I’m sorry for what I said back in Italy. It was mean and you didn’t deserve it.” You broke the silence first when you realised he was struggling.

“…you were right though.” He whispered, eyes meeting yours. “I was jealous of the idea of you being with him and I lashed out. I’m sorry.”

“Pierre” your voice was hushed, you gently squeezed his bicep. “I’m sorry for leading you on, it’s not fair.”

“You told me you didn’t see me that way.”

“I know but all of the flirty comments and touches definitely haven’t made it easy for you to move on has it? I miss my friend, Pierre.” You apologised profusely. “So I am sorry. Are we gonna be okay?”

He smiled softly and nodded, before looking over to where Dan was chatting away to his group. “You two okay now?”

“We’re getting there but listen… he doesn’t remember what you said and for now? I want to keep it that way. If… if I ever get the courage I want to tell him myself.”

“Of course. You should tell him though.”

“I know. Just don’t want to lose him again if he doesn’t feel the same… I only just got him back.” Pierre gave you a hug, all of your worries leaving your body. “Give me time.”

“Now you, go celebrate!” He grinned. “Your first win! I remember mine, you must be thrilled!”

You giggled softly. “I am. There’s no buzz like it.”

“Then go celebrate! Don’t let me keep you, mon amour.”

You gave him a kiss on the forehead before heading over to the party; embracing every congratulation and every little bit of praise. It was amazing. Dan bounded over to you like a puppy, holding a glass of champagne out for you. “I missed you.”

“I wasn’t gone long. Now come on, let’s celebrate!”

You danced with your friends; ravishing in the way everyone’s attention was on you. You’d never liked what you saw in the mirror but the drunken eyes of your fellow drivers made you feel a kind of buzz you hadn’t felt in a long time. You danced with them all - laughing and drinking until you could barely feel your feet. Dan was never too far from you, a protective glance thrown your way every now and then when one of the boys put his hand too low or touched you a little too long.

You separated yourself from the group and walked over to the railing; leaning against the cool metal and looking out over the city. The breeze was nice against your warm skin and you let your eyes flutter shut. “What a view, huh?”

You looked over your shoulder as Dan came up behind you; a large hand on the small of your back. The fire shot through you as he touched you; you smiled tipsily at him. “Better now you’re here.”

“Aren’t you cute?” He pressed a kiss against your temple. “I’m so happy that we’re getting back on track, y/n. Being away from you for so long… didn’t feel right. Felt like I lost a part of me.”

“I felt that too.” You sighed softly, your eyes meeting his. “It’s like… even though it was you I fell out with.. it was you I wanted to talk to about it.”

“I was thinking, during the summer break, some of us could go on a mini holiday together. Get away from it all.” He said, his arm slipping around his waist. “If you want.”

“I’d like that.” You lent into his side and closed your eyes, enjoying his warmth. “But I just want to enjoy tonight first…”

“Let’s dance some more, then!” He grinned, tugging you over to where everyone else was still partying. Everyone cheered as you rejoined the group - Lando hugging you close.

“Hi!” He beamed, his hands found your shoulders. “You done flirting? I wanna paaarrtaaay.”

“Oh shush, I wasn’t flirting.” You blushed, putting your hands on top of his. “We were thinking of doing a little group get away, you in?”

“Hell yeah!”

You danced with Lando for a while; you really wanted to test Dan here. You hadn’t missed his face when another boy touched you - it was almost like he was a little kid and someone was playing with his toy. Lando was oblivious to your little scheme as he twirled you around; unaware he was your Guinea pig to see if it was jealousy that Dan was feeling or if it was… literally anything else. The Australian swept in and snuck his arm around your waist. “May I have a turn with our winner?”

“Dude! You’ve been together all night.” Lando pouted, swinging your hands; but you saw his eyes study Dan’s face for a moment before he changed his mind. “okay. Mum and Dad should have a dance.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” He bowed a little before pulling you close to him.

“You haven’t even had that much to drink and you’re very handsy tonight, Daniel.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck as you swayed together to the music. “What is it, one, two glasses of champagne?”

“I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for, darling.” He hummed, eyes not leaving your face - the warm amber of his eyes studying every detail of your face as if he wasn’t going to see it again for a while. Darling. You hadn’t heard that pet name in years. He brushed his thumb lightly across your cheek. “You’re my best mate in the entire world, y/n.”

You forced a smile. Even with such sweet and intimate touches… he was still only calling you his best mate. Maybe he didn’t feel how you did; he didn’t feel the electricity run through his skin every time you touched. He didn’t feel the fire in the pit of his stomach when you thought about being together. It was a whole new pain you’d not experienced before; you felt so numb.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as the party began to wind down. You didn’t have to hold back any tears because you felt nothing. The words ‘Best mate’ just bouncing around your head. You left the hotel and walked towards your ride home; Christian had booked you a car so he knew you’d have to go back to your own room at the end of the night.

“Y/n?”

You looked over your shoulder before you climbed into the car; Dan was standing at the top of the stairs of the hotel. He jogged down the stairs and stopped inches away from you, that look in his eyes again. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before his hand came up to cradle the side of your neck. “Dan?”

He lent in slowly and pressed the most tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, making your breath catch in your throat. You swallowed heavily and let your eyes find his; the amber was burning bright. His voice was a low whisper. “Get home safe, okay?”

Your hand moved up to hold the one he had pressed against your neck. The numbness had melted away from his delicate kiss and all of your emotions had come running back - you didn’t realise you were crying until his thumb came up to wipe the tear off of your cheek.

“Hey… what’s the matter, darling?” His voice was still no more than a gentle whisper.

I love you I love you I love you I love you.

“Just missed you so much.” You matched his whisper, meeting his eyes. “Missed us.”

“I’m not going anywhere. So no more tears okay?” He smiled softly and gave you a squeeze before stepping back to let you get into the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll pick you up, we can go for lunch before the flight.”

“I’d like that.”

You slid into the back seat of the car and shut the door behind you; finally letting out the breath you felt like you’d been holding in. Fuck. Why did he kiss you like that? You’d shared kisses before but they were drunken… or a forehead kiss, something platonic… but that moment was so soft, so emotional. You wanted to let your mind run with the possibility that maybe he does love you too; perhaps he chickened out at the last second. Your head fell back against the headrest and you rubbed your eyes in frustration.

All you needed to hear was those words and everything would fall into place… but it meant that you had to say them first.

…maybe you were okay with that.

************************

Next Part >>

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[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 8 - Rookie Mistake [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Every agent makes mistakes.

Series Masterlist

You had no idea what you’d done for karma to hunt you down like this, but it was very clear that at some part in your life, you had messed up.

Maybe it was because you never bought recyclable giftwraps for Christmas even if everyone told you to.

Maybe it was because you still used too much sugar in your coffee.

Maybe it was because of all the targets you had killed.

A mystery, that one.

You groaned, pressing your forehead on the window of the car as you massaged your temples.

“Do I have a tracker on me or something?” you whined, “Is that it? What are the chances I run into my fake boyfriend twice while on a mission? It’s a huge city, it’s not supposed to be possible!”

“I don’t know about you but I’m shaking,” Keith reached out to wave his hand in front of your eyes while Chloe checked you both in the rear mirror, “I’m— my hands are all sweaty look—“

“Don’t touch me with your sweaty hands!” you batted his hands away when he tried to touch your face, “How did this happen? How is this possible? Chloe? Chloe answer me, how is this fucking possible?”

“Okay, let’s all take a breath and focus on the bright side of the situation,” she managed to say, keeping her eyes on the road, “Your cover wasn’t blown, he still has no idea you’re…well, you. And everyone is alive, yay!”

“I was on the same rooftop as the world’s most dangerous assassin,” Keith let out a breath, “He was right there when I got there, he was just…. That guy could kill us all!”

“Shrike, just give the order and we will—“

“Everyone stay where you are,” you touched your earpiece, “It’s under control.”

“Let me guess,” Bucky said as he took a step towards you, “Another member of HYDRA and you got here before me.”

“Are you following me or something?” you asked and he scoffed.

“Maybe you’re not the only person going after HYDRA.”

“Maybe I should be,” you said, “Don’t get me wrong, I kind of dig the whole vigilante vibe but my superiors have more…planned strategies for things like these.”

“And who do you work for, exactly?”

You let out a small laugh, “Every girl has her secrets,” you stated, “Why are you here?”

“Why are you?”

“Because I’m getting paid for it,” you said, “You’re not. Surely a handsome guy like you could fill his nighttime with different activities rather than doing….this.”

Even in the dark, you could tell that he shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Aw, not a huge fan of flirting?”

“Not with you.”

You couldn’t help but scoff a laugh at the irony, “Why, you got a girl at home?”

The door slammed open and one of the agents –Keith, you assumed— stepped out, his rifle pointed at Bucky while he heaved a sigh, shaking his head slightly.

“Your friend has a scarf wrapped over his face to keep his identity hidden and you call me a vigilante?”

Keith almost looked like Daredevil with Chloe’s red scarf covering half of his face.

“Mystery is kind of our deal.” you said and motioned at Keith, “Put the gun down, he’s not going to hurt me. In fact, he’s going to let me walk away.”

Bucky tilted his head, “You think so?”

“I know so. I’d hate to mess up that beautiful face during combat.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am.” you shrugged your shoulders and walked past him.

“Who are you?” he asked and you turned around to look at him.

“Come on, you know better than that.” You said and saluted him in a mocking manner before walking to the door, “Until next time, soldier.”

“I’m serious, feel my hands—“ you were pulled out of your thoughts when Keith reached out for you and you made a face, slapping his hand away once again.

“He told me he would stay at home tonight!” you exclaimed. “I can’t believe this, how dare—“

“It’s not like he said he was going to bed and ended up going to a club behind your back,” Chloe said, “Just saying, that happens a lot in some relationships.”

“Chloe, it’s not a real relationship!” you reminded her “What, my options were him having a one night stand and him going after the same target I was going to kill? By all means, he can go and get laid then!”

“But that would count as cheating!” Chloe said, “Besides, you know what they say. Targets over...ladies.”

“No one in the whole human history has ever said that honey.” Keith said helpfully and you looked out the window.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“The base.” Chloe said as if she was apologizing, “Dad wants to see you.”

You threw your head back and slipped a little on the leather seat.

“Great,” you muttered, “Tonight is getting better and better.”

                                    ***

Thankfully, General decided to let you go home after an hour of briefing. He had asked you whether you would like to be pulled out of other missions and instead just focus on Bucky but ignoring Keith’s glances, you had said no.

You had to prove yourself if you wanted to be a handler.

Thankfully it was Saturday so you could sleep until late and when you woke up, instead of going over the plans and rushing to the milkshake shop and coming up with strategy after strategy.

For some reason, you felt almost excited for your second date with Bucky. Maybe Chloe had a point, maybe you had to be extra careful not to lose yourself in your own cover. Just because you hadn’t had that problem before didn’t mean you could take it for granted.

You weren’t used to this kind of a mission. Not this long anyway, tricking a target was fine, it was expected but actually forming a relationship with them was much more complicated than a couple of lies here and there.

You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, looking in the mirror. You already knew Bucky would show up on his motorcycle, so you ditched the dresses and instead picked jeans and a nice blouse. When Chloe had first recreated your whole wardrobe for this mission, you whined for days but now you were slowly getting used to it.

Even though you were pretty sure you would never get used to the uniform.

Your phone started vibrating on the nightstand and you checked the caller I.D. before answering it.

“Hi!” you said, “Are you here?”

“Yes ma’am,” You could almost hear Bucky’s grin, “You ready?”

“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right there,” you said and hung up, then took a last look at your gun and put it beneath your pillow. Pushing your hair behind your ear, you locked the door behind you and made your way downstairs.

“Oh my goodness you were serious!” you said when you saw him leaning against a motorcycle and he looked you up and down, his face lighting up with a smile.

“Hi beautiful.”  

Your stomach did a pleasant flip and you didn’t even have to fake mirroring his smile, “Hi,” you murmured and pointed at the motorcycle, “You were serious about that.”

“I was, but—“ he turned around to grab something from the top case on the motorcycle, then turned to you, holding a bouquet of flowers. You gasped and reached out to take them from him.

“As promised,” he joked as you buried your nose into the bouquet.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him before heaving a dramatic sigh. “Well, we had a deal. I’ll have to get on this deathtrap huh?”

“Oh if you’re the type to break deals, you don’t have to,” he taunted and you scrunched up your nose. “But where we’re going is a little away from here, just so you know.”

“Where are we going?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to explore the city?”

You nodded and stole a look at the motorcycle standing behind him, making him chuckle.

“You laugh now but if you drop me on the way—“

“I’m not going to drop you on the way.”

“Or if I die, I’m haunting you.” You pointed at him, “For the rest of your life.”

He nodded in a very solemn manner, “Deal.”

You placed the bouquet into the top case carefully and turned to him so that he could put the helmet over your head. The fond light in his eyes was impossible to miss as he fixed it and lifted the shield.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his hands still cradling the helmet and you grinned.

“Mm hm.” You said and got on the motorcycle after him, then wrapped your arms around his torso. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aftershave filled your nostrils, making you inhale and you adjusted your grip.

“Ready to do this?”

“Nope,” you said, making him laugh, “Let’s do it anyways.”

                                        ***

You had never been so good at dates. You always thought it was awkward and to be frank most of the time you felt like it was an unnecessary step to getting to know this person when you could just look them up or ask Chloe to do it for you.

Besides, the last time you had gone on a date it had ended up in what spies could get as close to a relationship as possible.

But now, much to your surprise you were actually enjoying yourself.

“Brooklyn!” you said, looking around, “Oh my God, I’ve wanted to come here for a while!”

“Have you?”

“Yeah!” you said, “Since I moved to New York. I saw it on um— I saw it on Gossip Girl.”

“Is that a magazine?”

“TV show.”

“Ah.”

“You grew up here right?” you asked and he nodded.

“Yeah! Yeah I grew up very close to this neighborhood actually.”

“Do I get to see it?”

He tilted his head, “Do you want to?”

“Yes!” you said, “It’d be fun, don’t you think?”

He hesitated only for a moment, “Right this way then,” he said and held out his hand. You bit down and smile and took it, then started walking beside him.

“There used to be a movie theatre there,” he motioned at one of the shops, “I was actually— I came around here right before I was shipped off.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm. We went to this Stark Exhibition, me and—“ he stopped talking and you looked up at him before it dawned on you.

Steve Rogers.

Of course. Figures.

You cleared your throat, desperate to pull him out of his own mind.

“I can actually see you growing up here,” you said, “And for some reason you’re wearing short pants and you have a cap? And you’re like running around with a newspaper under your— am I describing a movie? I think I’m describing a movie.”

“Weirdly enough, you’re actually right.”

Your jaw dropped, “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah I had short pants and a couple of caps while I was growing up,” he said, making you gasp.

“Aww!”

“No, don’t.”

“That’s such a cute mental image!”

“Stop imagining it.”

“Tiny baby Bucky Barnes with his tiny little hat—“ you started but he pulled you closer to cover your mouth while still walking, making you let out a muffled laugh.

“Hey you should see my baby pictures, they’re a mess,” you said, “I have this picture with strawberry jam covering my face and my hair— oh, I’ve heard about this shop before! They make these famous bagels, do you want to take a look?”

“Sure, why not?” he said and followed you into the shop.

“Oh come on…” he muttered as he took a look at the menu board “Why does everyone put everything in food nowadays?”

You stifled a laugh and turned to the woman behind the counter, “I’ll get a cereal rainbow bagel and he will get something….classic.”

“We have plain bagel with cheese?”

“That sounds good. When exactly did people start eating lavender?” he asked you and you shrugged,

“Pretty recently I think,” you said and reached for your wallet but Bucky shot you a look.

“Don’t even think about it,” he quoted you and paid for the food, then you both grabbed the small paper plates and sat down on the small bar stools. You crossed your legs, turning to look at him better.

“I could let you try mine?” you taunted him and he chuckled.

“No thank you.” He eyed your bagel as if it was going to come alive any time. “I like the smell but…”

You tore a part of your bagel and put it on his plate. “Live a little Bucky Barnes.”

He held up the piece as if toasting you and you held up your bagel to touch his, giggling.

“So,” you said, “Could you rest last night? At least a little?”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if trying to decide what to say.

“Yeah,” he said eventually, “I did.”

Right.

Of course he would lie, it wasn’t as if he could tell you—

“I just had to go outside for an hour but it was fine.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you blinked a couple of times, taken by surprise at his honesty. It would’ve been so easy for him to flat out tell you a lie, but for some reason he chose against it. You knew he wouldn’t tell you the whole thing but the fact that he hadn’t brushed you off somehow made you feel all warm.

“Oh?” you asked, “Is—is everything okay? You were safe right?”

“Of course.”

You raised your brows, “Bucky.”

“There’s just this…crazy person I keep running into but it’s fine, no worries.”

Crazy person?!

You stared at him but you managed to pull yourself together and sat up straighter, picking at the cereal on top of the bagel.

“As long as you rested just a little, I still take that as a win,” you pointed out, making him smile.

“How about you?” he asked, “How was your night?”

I ran into you right after assassinating another member of HYDRA.

“It wasn’t as exciting as yours,” you took a bite of your bagel, “Surprising isn’t it? Here I thought I was the dangerously adventurous one.”

                                ***

You were one hundred percent sure you were somehow doing this whole mission wrong. In fact scratch the mission, you were doing this date thing wrong.

You weren’t supposed to like it this much.

You had never enjoyed any of your earlier dates with other people this much. By the time you decided to go back, it was the middle of the night and you had spent the whole day together without even realizing it. It didn’t feel like it was a mission you had been put on, it almost—

It almost felt real.

You frowned at yourself, reminding yourself to keep your head in the game and got off the motorcycle when it stopped in front of the building your apartment was in. As soon as you took off your helmet, you started fixing your hair while he watched you with a smile on his face.

“I have a confession to make,” you said as you handed him the helmet for him to put it on the motorcycle.

“What is it?”

“There’s a slight possibility,” you said, bringing your thumb and pointer together close, “Very slight possibility that you may have been right about the motorcycle.”

“Oh was I now?” he asked, feigning surprise and you let out a giggle.

“Maybe,” you said, “I mean I didn’t die, that’s something.”

“That was an expectation?”

“That was a possibility,” you corrected him, “But I got on a motorcycle and you tried a weird bagel. As far as putting ourselves in dangerous situations on a second date, I’d say we’re even.”

“You know, thank you for acknowledging it,” he played along, “It was really intimidating at first, but I’d like to believe I pulled through in the end.”

“You did,” you said, “So proud of you. Maybe the next time you visit me at the shop, you can finally try Unicorn Cotton Candy.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said and shifted your weight, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you for today. I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

“I’m glad,” he said with a smile, “Same here, aside from your quite disgusting taste in bagels, it was—”

“You didn’t like it?” you exclaimed and waved your hands in the air, “You know what, it’s fine. I have this strategy and you’ll—you’ll get there. We’re going to find something that is both completely modern and you like very much.”

“I think we already have,” he stated, his gaze locked in yours and you couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I’d hope so,” you replied, “Really.”

A silence fell upon you and you pushed your hair behind your ear.

“I should probably get going,” you pointed at the building with your thumb, “I have this very curious elderly neighbor, and trust me, she wouldn’t even wait for the morning to ask me about you if she saw us.”

“Oh we can’t have that, can we?” he said and you nodded your head, then gasped.

“Wait—Bucky, my flowers!” you said, “Give me my flowers.”

“Right,” he snapped his fingers and turned around to grab the bouquet from the top case, then paused.

“What?” you asked and he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to keep them in a very hot box whole day?” he asked and pulled out the bouquet, making you let out a whine at the sight. The flowers looked nearly withered and you took them from him, pressing your lips together.

“Okay, it’s not so bad,” you said as if trying to convince yourself, “It’s alright, I can fix this.”

“Darling I don’t think—“

“I can!” you insisted, “I’m gonna put them in water tonight or—or find some solution. I’m gonna google something, I’m pretty sure there are ways to save them.”

“Or I can just get you new ones.”

“That’s not how it works,” you pointed out, still holding the bouquet carefully over your chest as you assessed the damage, then looked up to find his eyes fixed on you.

“I’m—I should go now.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you moved for a moment before you took a deep breath, your heart slamming against your chest. You knew what your cover would or wouldn’t do, but somehow you had this urge that told you the situation probably called for your decisions, not your cover’s.

“Oh screw this,” you muttered as you stepped closer to him to stand on your tiptoes and pull him into a kiss.

Well, for you or your cover that felt like the best decision you had ever made on this mission.

He pressed you closer to his body, his hand cradling the back of your head and as if on cue, your stomach did a pleasant flip, giddiness filling your whole system. You rested a hand over his chest, feeling his fast heartbeat under your palm and let yourself get lost in the kiss until he pulled back slowly. A small giggle escaped from you as his arm around you got tighter, a smile lighting up his face.

“Well, you weren’t going to do it,” you commented, making him chuckle.

“I was waiting for the third date actually.”

“Oh how I’m glad the times have changed,” you said and caught the sight of the bouquet currently crushed between you two. You took a step back, tilting your head.

“Gosh, I don’t think I can fix this.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure we just murdered them,” Bucky stated and you heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Worth it,” you grinned, “You win some you lose some.”

“New flowers next date, got it.”

A look of mischief crossed your face, “Deal. Good night Bucky.”

“Good night darling.”

You bit down a smile and made your way to the building, then hopped on the steps to get to your floor, somehow way too excited to get in the elevator and wait. As soon as you got into your apartment you leaned back to the door, closing your eyes.

Just your cover. You knew you had to act like your cover and that was why your heart was beating this fast, no other reason.

You pushed yourself off the door and stepped into the living room, still holding the flowers tight in your arms. You knew what you were supposed to do, back at the academy when you were being educated on seduction of the enemy, they always told you to draw the line between yourself and your cover. One of the easiest ways to do it was getting rid of every single thing your target would give you as a gift, keeping these gifts posed the danger of making you hesitant when it was time to bring the target in.

You couldn’t keep anything. You knew that.

It would be a rookie mistake.

You lingered on your steps, then approached the dinner table to touch the vase Chloe had put fake flowers in. You grabbed the fake flowers and pulled them out of the vase to throw them into the trashcan, then filled the vase to the brim with water and carefully placed the bouquet into it before putting it on the table again.

You were a professional spy. Keeping something as simple as flowers only for this one instance wouldn’t hurt anyone after all.

You were sure it would be fine.

You stepped back to take a look at the vase and shrugged your shoulders.

“My cover likes flowers,” you muttered to yourself and made your way to your bedroom.

Chapter 9

[virtual-luvr]

DISCLAIMER: spoilers for chainsaw man up ahead, hints of gore and death, I hope you enjoy :D

No one.

There was nothing, and no one.

You open your eyes and you're met with the sunlight peeking through a window.

It was calm, a little bit too calm.

Where is Denji? Why is there no noise?

Usually at this hour Denji would be waking you up with the sound of his loud voice or maybe even throwing Pochita onto your chest.

So...why hasn't that happened yet?

Panic started to set, so you rose from your makeshift bed on the floor and jumped up.

You searched all the rooms in the small house.

No one.

Denji never left without, atleast, a note or he would try and wake you up to let you know he was off.

Denji was gone, no trace of him anywhere. Where the hell could he have gone, he defenetly couldnt have gone too far, could he?

This was just not what you were used to, maybe you're just overreacting.

Denji would come back, he was just running an errand, he would be back in no time.

Atleast thats what you'd hoped for.

You waited for what felt like hours, each look at the closed door making you feel more anxious and sick.

It was nearing noon and there was still no sign of Denji, you hadn't been able to eat anything, and you tried your best to look around for him. Even going as far as to ask people walking around if they had seen a certain blonde haired boy running around.

But still no sign of Denji.

You walk around for a bit more, even holding one of Pochitas favorite treats to see if they would atleast come home.

No one.

Before you could take a step back and go back home to your small house, noise erupted.

Very peculiar noise, a chainsaw.

The noise gave you hope, you knew what it was!

It was Pochita, it had to be Pochita, you finally could be able to see Denji again.

You run towards the noise not even caring about your shoes getting even more dirty then they already were, you were just worried about Denji and Pochita.

As you look up, you're met with the peculiar site of what you could only imagine was a warehouse.

You had no time to process though, because soon enough the rearing of a chainsaw was heard once again and you ran in.

Blood.

Blood was everywhere.

There were more bodies then you could ever count, what the fuck was happening.

You had no clue, you couldnt even step one more foot in because you'd be stepping on pools of blood and guts.

The smell was awful, you almost ran away right then and there.

But you couldnt, Denji and Pochita had to be around here somewhere.

Looking up, your eyes meet a sight you never expected to see.

A devil, but that wasnt what your eyes were really fixed on.

No, your eyes were fixed on whoever had a chainsaw for a head.

Maybe it would have been better if you stayed back at home.

You started to regret your decision of looking for Denji, this wasnt a pleasent scene and it isnt something you wanted to look at for much longer.

Before you can take a step back, blood splatters all over you and the devil falls to the floor. It smelled horrible, how were you going to get this off, you and Denji never had the money for a water bill of all things.

You curse in your head before looking at the culprit for the devils death.

Said culrpit had been screaming amd yelling almost all through the fight.

His voice sounded so familiar, you didnt want to admit it but you had an idea on who it was.

Tall, teenage and idiotic boy, yep that was Denji.

And if thats a chainsaw, that must mean Pochita had probably fused with him.

You had read and learned about this once before, before it all went down hill for your life. It was something interesting, but you never thought it would happen to Denji.

It broke your heart to think about Pochita dying, but you couldnt think about it for too long.

"Someone beat us to it" you hear someone say, it kicks you back into your senses.

You run away from Denjis, now almost passed out, body. Scampering off to one of the storage units in the warehouse and hiding behind it, you could only hope that whoever said that wasn't able to see you.

You recognized that voice as well, how could your forget, she had taken your parents away from you.

Makima was her name, wasnt it? You certainly didnt expect to be seeing her after all these years.

But, alas, your paths seemed to cross.

That was an inconvenience at the moment though, so you decide to hide instead of having her catch you.

You only hoped that she wouldnt do anything bad to Denji.

Taking a risk, you peek your head over the storage unit, dull eyes meet yours.

She had seen you.

Even thought Makima had seen you though, she made no move to get you out from behind the storage unit.

Instead she decided to keep talking to Denji.

You couldnt hear much of the conversation, but what you were able to catch from it made you worry more for Denji.

Makima slowly picks up Denjis body before going back to a black car.

As soon as you hear the engine roar to life and started running, you bolt out from behind the storage unit and run behind the car.

Makima tilts her head with a smile as she sees you running behind the car before coming to a stop, looking at her with whatever emotion you had left.

Anger, resentment, sadness, anything.

You were alone again, no one to accompany you.

No one.

[1000 words; april/8/21]

[ktheist]

(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

x

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives.  even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart  - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,”  was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

x

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Looking at the deleted scenes

so my last post looking into a scene to hear what they said was a deleted scene and that honestly got me on a kick now about looking though them all. This one is mainly going to be just taking about them/details more then a what I heard post. So here we go.

1- fighting over rooms

This was in the script and the book but never made it into the film, Sam was in the room Michael wanted and they fought for it. So this scene is the context behind Sam bolting down the stairs “MOM PLEASE! Ma! You gotta help me!” “S o o n”

Sam’s got a serious comic collection, which he organises(I see the hulk but no Batman)

Sam mumbling the song he later sings in the tub!! (Ain’t got no home)

“oh no no no, this is MY room. You, spidey and richie rich and the rest of the boys are outta here.” Michael I love you.

“My way or the highway bud” Sam I love you

Michael: I’ll flip you for it *LITERALLY PICKS SAM UP AND FLIPS HIM UPSIDE DOWN*

Sam bites this man in the leg- Michael also notably mumbles ‘lil shit’ as his brother rushes away laughing

Y’all I am in LOVE they are literally just siblings

2- Kitchen that night

This was also script/book. I mean duh because it’s a deleted scene. Basically just talking after dinner

Lucy has two big pictures of her mother ‘hi mom’

Sam is trying to fix the stereo but it keeps popping also Sam wearing the bandana! Cutie lmao

The stereo starts playing lost in the shadows (also like how when Dwayne hits it, it plays good times)

Michaels “sammmmmmm”

Michael just “I dunno if I’m going back to school” he dead ass went ✨I wanna drop out✨

Sam swoops in and starts dancing with Lucy it’s to cute I’m gonna explode

Sam and Lucy dragging him in , Sam straight up head locking Mike and Lucy’s dance is gonna

3- extension of Michael following star

Honestly this should have stayed in. It gives star a bit more character and it also makes Michael slightly less creepy in his actions. THIS IS WHERE THE PHOTO OF LADDIE COMES FROM!

Star: are you following me?*laugh*

Michael, confidently: yea, I am

Star:

How star is laughing and smacking gum watching this dork

Laddie like :0 the whole time

The way she says “well, talk” In a half laugh

SAM ACTUALLY CUTS THEM OFF FROM THEIR CONVO WITH “moms here” that’s why she goes off

LADDIE NOTICING SAMS VAMPIRES EVERYWHERE COMIC!!

“She wants me , all of me” - Sam Emerson 1987

4- Michaels job

Self explanatory, honestly I think this scene should have been kept in for little more past actually establishing that the movie is longer then a few days. Really it’s more like a few weeks

The drunk dude laying on the beach left over from the night before

Hhhhhhhh shirtless Michael hhhhhh

SAM AND THE FUN TUBE I REMEMBER THIS FROM THE BOOK

This kid is trying to read a comic in the ocean

Sam gets splashed by the surf nazis

Michael gets tricked by hair lmao

5- video store that afternoon

Weird note but Maria is called Marie? However in all media she’s called Maria??

Marie gives her little backstory, how she owes max

Max is busy during the day you see

Lucy is such a sweetie “there’s my boys! :D” “my sons my sons”

Michael trying to give Lucy his left over Christmas money and all that 🥺

Sams “bye mike!”

6- talking again

Second night extended talks

They used to come spend summers in Santa Carla

M: where’s your little brother?

S: hes not my little brother

The audio cut out :(

7-

Grandpa asks Lucy about her boss “oh you know him?” “Oh I’ve seen him around”

GRANDPA WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

“Yea if i knew I was gonna live this long I woulda taken better care of myself”

8- morning

Sam watching the stuffed mountain lion

Nanook going after the rears of the stuffed hunting dogs- sir-

“Chill out Nanook”

Sam gets noosy and looks in on the Taxidermy and Grandpa chooses to gross him out lmao

“Nanook, this is my life , I come from a broken home. My mom works all day, my brother SLEEPS all day and my grandfathers possibly a alien who stuffs chipmunks” SAM I LOVE YOU

Sam sneaks a bit of grandpas weed

I’m going to sob I’m gonna sob it’s like a bit of the leaf! Sam baby never change

Grandpa walks in- Sam gets offended and tells him to stop with the Indian walk (this implies that he just straight up sneaks up on Sam non stop lmao I love him)

This blends into the “let’s go to town” scene

9- Michaels “morning after

The video I’m watching titled it this and I’m losing my shit so I’m keeping it. ALSO AGAIN THE MAGGOTS AND THE BRIDGE SCENE ARENT ON THE SAME NIGHT. THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN KEPT IN TO ESTABLISH THAT

Michael not being able to lift his weights

“I can’t remember to much, not after the Chinese food that looked like maggots” Sam slowly putting down his apple lmao

“Hey mike, you think grandpas a alien?”

Mike “mom and I didn’t wanna tell you two early” lmao

Nanook and Michaels salty feet. I still don’t get this part

“That was some pretty funky Chinese food”

MICHAEL IS NOT WEARING ANYTHING UNDER THE ROBE AND HE HAS FUCKING TIGHTY WHITIES

Mike just placing his full hand over sams face

10-

Went over this last night

Max having thorn sit shot gun

His baseball cap that’s it just his hat

11- max and Lucy date pre phone call

Again for  character development , like star. Like he doubles as a love interest and villain you think they’d leave the little parts with him in it in the movie

Max saying “I know what it’s like to be alone”

He says protecting mother in Latin(I think?) then English - NERD

“Lioness with her Cubs” she laughs THEYRE REALLY CUTE- STOP

“I think my mothering days are just about over” “well, they don’t have to be” SUBTLE

Max trying to show off with a fancy order shsisososososos

Max goes all out and spoils with the expensive order and Lucy is all !!! ☺️ no one touch me

They’re actually really cute and it makes me so mad they cut out moments like this for him and star? Because even with these they don’t get that much time but they get that much more character

13- Mike they’re here! Introductions

Should have been kept simply because there’s a huge gap

“This guy looks more like a zombie”

“Should I run him though?”

MICHAELS EYELINER

Mike is so sarcastic

“David! It’s David isn’t it?! He’s the leader! David ansisosososoos” mikes deflated “yea”

In conclusion these all should have stayed in the film and I am still upset over this. Also if there’s any more or any one that I missed: gimme