#I probably missed a key moment when it confirms they think it's their own house but idk

[k1tty-wh1te]

Slightly irrational DHMIS theory

This is probably just me overanalyzing stuff, (as I tend to do) but I think something to go along with the popular theory that DHMIS is some sort of torture or purgatory is that the main 3 seem kinda detached from the house.

Like yeah they fully live there, but they don't really seem to care when people just burst in and start talking to them, possibly because they know subconsciously that it isn't their house.

There's one bit where Red Guy asks who someone is, (don't remember who) but he didn't actually care about the fact that the teacher had somehow gotten into their house, despite they themselves not being able to leave.

Additionally, (way more speculative than the other two points) in Transport when Red Guy is panicking, he says he can't go back to "that house" instead of saying "our" or "the" house, which could be displaying detachment from it by not referring to it possessively.

I guess my conclusion from all this is that they know they live there, but also know (maybe deep down) it's not their house, and they're content with not questioning it.

(Could also tie in somehow to the fact that they don't know each other at all but somehow also express friendship with one another. but I am tired. it is 2am)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

also also also this is completely unrelated to the theory but I Love the implications that they are maybe aware of themselves being watched/monitored, as shown in Electricity, Red Guy and Duck could suddenly talk in a way you'd expect a real person to, and Duck could even use a modern device. (That could relate to the webseries episode where they were forced to forget about their laptop and use an old computer for the rest of the show. something something living in the past etc) possibly also implying that Lesley could not control them when the power was out and it gave them their full range of normal skills back

[sim0nril3y]

i love your works!!

now that soap knows sort of about civilian reader, how would they both react to meeting one another? Perhaps after a mission, Simon has to take him to their house since it’s close by and there they meet. I can imagine Johnny jokingly flirting with reader jus to rile Simon up

Note: Thank you so much for your request! I love, love, love it! Love these boys together and all the trouble they get into and love how Johnny just seems to be able to push his buttons. Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, taunting and teasing, tiny illusion to smut, canon typical swearing.

It was probably a mixture of exhaustion and anxiousness to see you that had Simon not thinking straight when he climbed off the plane with Johnny. Circumstances had it that the barracks were completely full to the brim, the last train home for Johnny was an hour ago and a certain sense of guilt had Simon suggesting “We got a spare room…” The moment Simon said it, he regretted it.

It had been a gruelling four months away from you and all he had come to adore at the home you shared together, whilst he had wanted to spend time alone with you now he was basically bringing home a drooling labrador in the form of his Sergeant. Johnny’s eyes brightened up like it was Christmas and he mentioned. “That means I get t’meet your missus, LT.” Simon was completely stumped for any response, simply his shoulders sagged.

“You breathe a word about this or her to anyone else, I’ll make sure you don’t make it back from our next mission.” It was a threat, but an empty one and Johnny knew that for certain.

It was way past midnight by the time that Johnny and Simon arrived at his home. They quietly clambered from the car and up the path towards the house. Simon had warned you not to wait up for him, but from here he could see that the living room light was on which meant you hadn’t listened to him. Using the key to open the door before he even put his bags down on the floor, he heard your footsteps approach hastily, excited to see him, having practically no contact for almost four months was difficult.

“Si…” You rushed to wrap your arms around him, Simon wrapped his body tight around your own, burying his face into your throat and inhaling sharply, burying his nose into your scent to try and wash away all the horror that he’d witnessed whilst away. “Missed you so much.” You whimpered into his skin and then jumping. “Oh, uh…” It was clear you’d seen Johnny lingering over his shoulder then. “Hi.”

Tugging away from Simon, he took a step aside allowing you to see Johnny fully. “Hello ma’am.” He nodded his head at you then, Simon wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Johnny act so respectful before. Odd, he thought. “Jus’ got back from a mission. Y’fella ‘ere said I could borrow a room f’the night. Hope it won’t be too much trouble.”

A little of startled surprise crossed your face. “You work with Simon?” You asked then and Johnny nodded in confirmation. “You can stay as long as you want if you tell me everything about Si whilst he’s away from home.” You announced causing Simon to gift you a tested look but it only caused Johnny to chortle lowly and reply. “I tell y’everything I know ‘bout Si.” The use of his nickname that was reserved for you fell from Johnny’s lips and those narrowed daggers looked to him aggressively.

“Time for bed.” Simon commanded lowly then, hands placed on your shoulders to spin you in the direction of the stairs and ushering you up then, even as you argued that you needed to find some sheets for the spare room Simon still urged you up the stairs and as far away from Johnny as he could manage. This night couldn’t be over quick enough.

It was like some bad dream as Simon awoke that next morning to your side of the bed long cold beside him and the sound of your distant laughter floating through the house. Bloody hell. Originally, he had planned on waking up, rolling you gently onto your side and slipping into your wonting cunt, but instead you were entertaining another one downstairs, leaving him longing and lonely in the bed you shared.

Simon was dreading whatever stories that Johnny had decided to fill your pretty head with. There was reasons Simon kept you separate from you his work life, mostly for your safety but also because he was a different person there than he was in the comfort of your shared home. He felt safe and secure in these walls and around your presence, with work he built up walls which you had seemingly knocked down in mere weeks of knowing him.

Clambering from bed Simon tugged on some shorts and lumbered downstairs to join the chatter. It was much too lively for an early Saturday morning. “My, my… Lt never mentioned jus’ how talented you are, lass.” That thick Scottish accent announced making his eyes narrow, rounding the counter to see Johnny observing the artwork that adorned the kitchen walls. “Matter fact, don’t think he’s uttered a single word ‘bout you.”

“Likewise.” You responded with ease then before beaming a smile at the presence of Simon in the doorway. “Morning, Lt.” Johnny began. “Morning babe, want a cuppa?” Your voice was pleasant and sweet, even at this time. “Mm.” He moved then to take a seat at the table as you got to work making him a morning brew just the way he liked. “I hope MacTavish ain’t been giving you too much grief…” He commented, flicking a hard look in Johnny’s direction.

A delicate laugh came from you then. “Don’t be silly.” Approaching him with the tea and placing it on the kitchen table for him. “Not at all, Lt.” Johnny continued. “Y’lass and I’ve been gettin’ on like a house on fire.” Then grinning as he sat opposite him. “Bonnie was just tellin’ me ‘bout the train strikes…” Simon glared at him. “Kindly offered me the room until things clear up again.”

After taking a long sip of his tea Simon said coldly. “I’ll pay for a taxi, or a plane… whatever gets you out of my house faster.” Then earning a hard look from you across the room. “Don’t be rude.” You scolded him with a stern look, completely unphased by Simon’s attitude Johnny did grin at the way that you spoke to his Lieutenant, practically only Price could speak to Simon like that. “John, you are more than welcome to stay with us as long as you need to.” Then throwing a tested look in Simon’s direction. “Isn’t that right, babe.”

“Is it, Lt?” Johnny uttered feigning some innocence Simon knew was fake. Instead of biting back Simon simply nodded and mustered a small. “Mm.” In response, simply plotting his revenge sometime in the future. “Mighty kind of you.” The Scotsman grinned and looked towards you. “Oh and lass, call me Johnny, please.” Followed by a playful wink. This was going to be a rough few days.

Masterlist | Ask | 27-01-2024

[saintlike78]

Bad day [D.M.]

Parings: Husband! Draco Malfoy x fem! Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N comes home from work after having the worst day and doesn’t want Draco to see her sad, so she decides to go past his office without greeting him. Draco thinks she’s being bratty and goes to punish her but finds her crying and comforts her instead.

Warnings: NSFW 16+, shower sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, slight fingering, unprotected sex, reader being sad.

You loved your job, it made you so happy, most of the time, but today you wanted to either scream, cry or pull your hair out, purely out of frustration.

Closing the front door gently, hoping your husband wouldn’t hear you come home, you quietly remove your shoes and coat.

Usually, you loved coming home after a long day of work to see Draco, working away in his home office, or with dinner ready for you to eat together. Today was different, you could feel a breakdown slowly creeping up on you and you really didn’t want to burden Draco with a crying mess, when he was also stressed with his own work. You knew Draco would always comfort you when you’re feeling down, but it still made you feel guilty.

Moving your feet quietly down the long hallway that led to your bedroom, but said hallway unfortunately also housed Draco’s office. The door to his office was open and you could hear him typing away on the keys of his computer, soft music filling the background. During any other normal day, you would make your way into said office and greet him with a kiss and sometimes you would stay and watch him until he was done with work, making this a little routine.

As quickly as you possibly could, you breeze past the office, praying he was too busy to notice you.

Alas, this is Draco we’re talking about, so of course, he noticed. He had heard the front door click shut and heard your soft footsteps make their way down the hall, he had expected them to lead to him, but was very surprised when your figure passed by the door, without even a small greeting. Furrowing his brows, Draco shut his laptop and stared at the doorway, almost expecting you to come in laughing because he was half expecting your action to be a joke. When you didn’t appear, but instead heard the water from the shower running, coming from the bathroom connected to your shared bedroom, he could feel the annoyance building.

You weren’t exactly a stranger to being a bit bratty, to rile him up, so Draco’s mind instantly jumped to this conclusion, maybe you just wanted attention and that was exactly what you were going to get.

Getting up from his office chair, Draco made his way into the bedroom where he could see your work clothes thrown haphazardly in a path leading to the bathroom.

Smirking, he opened the door as quietly as possible, as to not alert you of his presence and he slowly slid into the bathroom.

You were in the shower, facing away from him, the water engulfing your head to muffle out the sound of the outside world, your salty tears mixing with the warm water from the shower. You knew Draco would probably hear the shower running, but that he hopefully would be too busy with work to think about it.

Ridding himself of his own clothes, Draco’s mind was racing, thinking of what kind of punishment he would bestow upon you for ignoring him.

Walking behind the glass of the shower, Draco stood and took a moment to admire you from behind, thinking about how lucky he was (and also about ravishing you, but mostly admiring).

“So, what makes you think it’s okay to ignore me, darling?” Draco started, finally announcing his presence.

His voice behind you startled you a bit and made you jump slightly, but you still didn’t turn around to meet his gaze, not wanting him to see you bawling your eyes out because of something as silly as work.

When you didn’t turn, Draco just assumed you were testing his patience, so he walked closer to you, so close you could feel the heat radiating his body.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, I don’t appreciate this bratty behavior,” he said as he grabbed your arm to get you to turn around, but you just shook your head.

Draco was suddenly confused; normally when you were being bratty, you would always come with a snarky comment or directly test his patience, not actually ignore him.

He grabbed both your arms, forcing you to turn, and that’s when he saw your red puffy eyes, he only assumed they were accompanied by tears, but the water from the shower disguised them. Your body was quivering slightly as you took shaky breaths, still not looking him in the eye.

“Darling… what’s the matter?”

You shook your head again, knowing that if you started talking your voice would break and a fresh set of tears would make their way out. Draco just took your body and wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tightly against his bare chest.

As soon as his arms were around you, you buried your face in his chest and the tears started again, making you let out small sobs against him.

Stroking your back gently he tried getting you to talk again, “baby, can you tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you? Was it something I did?”

“No,” you hiccuped as you spoke, “you didn’t do anything… I just had a very bad day at work, and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”

“My darling,” he cooed, “I’m always here for you when you’re having a bad day, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me… you’re not a bother, I always want to help you feel better.”

Retracting your face from his chest so you could look at his face, finally meeting his eyes, still in his arms, you gave a small nod.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, still stroking your back.

“Not right now,” you started, your tears having calmed down, “I just want to not think about it.”

Draco nodded and smirked slightly. “I might have a way to take your mind off it.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the small smile that was working its way onto your face.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

His smirk only grew at your response, “I could wash your hair.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head once again at his little game.

“Okay, you can wash my hair,” you said and tilted your head up slightly and puckering your lips, silently asking for a kiss.

Draco grinned and bent his head down to meet your lips in a short, but loving kiss.

Grabbing your shampoo from the shelf he squirted some in his hand and brought it to your hair, slowly lathering it up and massaging it in. You let out a sigh of contentment, enjoying the way his long slender fingers worked their magic on your scalp.

After rinsing your hair of the shampoo, applying conditioner, and rinsing that as well you thought you would be done, but Draco, as always, had different plans.

“Now, darling, your hair is nice and clean, but we’re still missing one step,” he said with a smirk and a playful look in his eyes.

You cocked your head a tad, asking him a silent question with the action, wondering what he had in mind.

Smirking even wider, he grabbed the small showerhead and also turned off the overhead shower. Turning on the smaller showerhead and setting the water pressure to the highest setting, it clicked in your brain what he was going to do, and your stomach flipped with excitement and you could already feel your arousal start to seep out.

Gripping your waist, he held you close, but still left a gap between you, making room for the showerhead. Slowly, he brought the showerhead over your stomach and guided it downwards, pausing right above your heat, but not for long. Finally, he brought it down so the water could hit your clit perfectly, making your breath hitch and then letting out a long breathy moan. The pressure from the water was making your knees quiver and you reached one hand up to grab Draco’s shoulder and the other gripped his bicep to keep yourself upright.

The moans you were letting out were going straight to Draco’s, already painfully hard, cock.

“You make such pretty noises, princess.”

Getting closer and closer to your release, you started to slowly move your hips to create a nice pulsing friction against your clit. Draco, of course, noticed and smirked, your moans and whines enough confirmation that you were close.

“You gonna cum for me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer from the way your grip on his shoulder and bicep was tightening more by the second.

Nodding, you let out a breathy whine as your orgasm finally took over, making your knees quiver and body shake with pleasure. If Draco hadn’t been holding you up by your waist, you surely would have crumbled to the ground.

Draco turned off the water for the small showerhead, but turned the large overhead shower on again, as for you not to freeze.

“You did so good, my good girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss you all over your face, “you ready to take my cock, angel?”

“Yes, please Draco,” you whimpered out, very desperate for him to fill you.

He chuckled at your neediness but nevertheless brought your back towards the wall.

“Jump, baby.”

Doing as you’re told, you jump slightly. Catching you, Draco makes you wrap your legs around his waist.

With one hand on your waist, holding you up, he uses his free hand to guide his length between your soaked folds, slowly entering you.

You both let out simultaneous moans as he enters you, his hand now going under your thigh as he starts moving in and out of you at a steady pace.

“You feel so good, always so good and tight for me, my darling,” he groans out.

“Faster, Draco, please,” you manage to get out between moans.

Draco doesn’t need to be told twice. Picking up his pace, his hips move faster, chasing your second high of the evening and his own.

You’re a babbling mess, leaning forward to kiss him before burying your face in his neck, lightly biting down.

Draco lets out a particularly loud groan at the sensation, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm. Reaching between the two of you, he finds your clit and draws circles, wanting you to finish before he does.

You let out a loud moan and without warning your orgasm washes over you, making you see stars, whilst your entire body shakes, gripping Draco’s back so hard, you’re afraid you’ve drawn blood.

Hearing your moan and feeling your walls flutter around him, Draco himself is brought to his end. Dick twitching, you feel him release inside of you.

“Yeah, take all my cum, you’re gonna be so full,” he groans as he pumps slowly in and out of you, making sure you’re nice and filled.

Emptying completely inside, he slowly pulls out, earning a low whine-esque moan from you, and helps you down on your feet. He stabilizes you, with one hand on your hip and crouches down, and enters two fingers in your already very sensitive cunt.

“No, too se..sensitive,” you whine out.

“I know, my baby, just want to make sure you’re nice and full,” he coos, looking up at your blissed-out face.

Deciding that you’re full enough, Draco pulls out his fingers and stands up, guiding his fingers to your mouth beckoning you to open, which you gladly do. Taking his fingers in your mouth and sucking lightly, to clean them, you look up at Draco with the most innocent look you can muster, even though what you just did was very far from innocent. He lets out a groan, his eyes rolling a little back and his head also falling a little back.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You smirk a little and he removes his fingers.

Leaning down, he kisses you again, this kiss slow and passionate, thumb slowly stroking your cheek.

After cleaning you up, Draco jumped out of the shower, drying himself off before grabbing you a towel and letting you dry off, while he went to your bedroom and rummaging through his closet for a jumper, for you to wear.

Finally satisfied with the clothing option he picked for you, he quickly pulled on a pair of underwear and sweats, before making his way back to the bathroom.

Watching in silence as you pulled on the (very skimpy) pair of panties and the jumper he had picked out, he was just admiring you, doing the most mundane thing, but to him, you were just ethereal.

“Come on, darling, let’s go cuddle and you can tell be all about who I have to hex for you,” Draco said, making you chuckle.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him, before he could guide you out of the bathroom, you puckered your lips, indicating the fact that you wanted a kiss.

Chuckling, he bent down and lovingly pecked your lips.

“Thank you for always cheering me up, my love,” you said as Draco began to lead you to the bedroom and towards your shared bed.

Draco smirked, “anytime, princess,” he winked.

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. II

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 10k

➵ warnings : none really, swearing, mainly fluffy and funny interactions, some angst! :o 

➵ a/n: and i’m back with chapter two! i really wanted to say thank you for the love and support i received on the first part of maybe i do, it was astounding!! i’m so grateful so many people loved the story and asked to be tagged (all at the bottom <3), it made me feel so motivated to write. if you would also like to be tagged please message me. your feedback is always appreciated! 

chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired” 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

Taehyung didn’t remember sleeping anywhere near you last night. 

He remembered that even though you willingly agreed to share the same bed, he still opted for caution and slept with the most space between you two as possible.

Though when his eyes fluttered open the next morning, eyeballs burning from the light that bled into the suite, the first thing he realized was that he was not on his side of the bed from last night. 

No, he had somehow gravitated towards the center, and as if almost on cue, your slight movement and the sound of your breathing alerted him of your nearby presence. 

Peering down at you, Taehyung caught sight of your sleepy head turned towards him and lying on his arm, his other thrown over your torso with you unsuspectingly nuzzled into his side.

Taehyung’s eyes shot open, acknowledging he had succumbed to his habit of hugging something to sleep during the course of the night and he internally panicked. He began retracting his arms slowly, just about drawing himself from you until alarms rang in his head at the sight of you stirring in your sleep. 

Taehyung took the golden opportunity to sit up in a flash, having to physically shake his head to rid the image of your tranquil, sleeping face from his brain, crushing the thought that it was kind of cute.

He found himself chanting the same denial from last night, he couldn’t be thinking of such complicated things concerning you when he knew the second he’d step foot inside his home, there’d be a mountain of paperwork ready for him; even more on his work desk.

He had to be thinking about his job, not you.  

Even if Taehyung was married now, it wouldn’t lessen the amount of work that plagued his life nor make it any less demanding. If anything, his life would be harder now considering the fact that he had another priority to add to his list, another aspect of his life he had to split his attention between. 

He didn’t necessarily hate the idea, just found himself needing to work harder than he already was. 

Taehyung sighed heavily at the thought and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He took a moment to look back at you, thinking if he observed you a second time he’d be able to piece together how the hell you two ended up in that position, that close. 

By evidence of the forgotten blanket half-thrown off you, he could see you were the tossing-and-turning type, maybe the only explanation for your proximity considering he was the same. 

He also noticed you slept all curled up, like you were cold and the only warmth you knew was snuggling yourself.

Cute.

There it was again, cute. 

Why does that word even exist? 

Taehyung discarded the notion altogether and stood to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. He made for the bathroom eagerly to begin his day, though not without fixing at least some of the blanket back onto you. 

“You don’t have a driver?” 

“Not for everywhere I go. I have two hands, I can drive myself.” Taehyung made it a statement to jazz hands at you, showcasing the perfectly capable limbs he was gifted with.

“That’s.. nice, actually. I always see asshole CEO’s getting other people to drive them around.” You relayed as you trailed behind Taehyung, letting him lead you towards the front of the hotel where dozens of expensive cars lined the curb side.

You had no clue which luxury vehicle belonged to Taehyung because quite frankly, he could probably afford every car your eyes caught sight of. It wasn’t until he approached a certain one and retrieved his keys from the valet that your jaw completely dropped, floored.

“This is your car?” You gawked, the sleek design, crispness of its shape and nearly sparkling gloss completely sweeping you off your feet.

“Yeah, think someone like me can’t get a car like this?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards himself.   

“It’s just-wow. Mercedes CLS?” You inquired without really looking at him, inspecting the car instead as you admired its every curve. Safe to say, you were beyond in love with it. Even if you were always more of a minimalist and preferred the average product, there was just something gorgeous about luxury cars that appealed to you.

“Yeah, actually it is.” Taehyung looked at you impressed, momentarily reminded of just how different you were compared to any other woman he’s chanced upon. 

How many of them knew car models?

Taehyung was intrigued by the fact before speaking with one of the hotel workers, confirming if they had loaded his car with both your luggage and some wedding sentiments your parents insisted you keep. 

Once receiving affirmation Taehyung made towards your side of the car and pulled the door open. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he gestured for you to hop in, drawing you out of your stupor. You thanked him warmly before sliding into your seat. 

He let you scramble in comfortably before shutting the door and walking to his side, positioning himself in and clicking on his seatbelt. He watched as your expression lit up once occupying the car, face beaming with excitement as you touched and drank in at the high-end features the vehicle had to offer. Taehyung found himself smiling before he licked his lips and straightened his face, igniting the engine and beginning the smooth drive. 

It was easy to settle the debate on where you both would be living. Taehyung was an enormously rich CEO who lived in an expensive, massive home while you lived in a measly apartment. You knew it was useless to live separately, even more useless to have him live with you. And so you agreed without protest to pack your things and relocate, begin your move into the house you’d share with him for a lifetime. 

The car ride remained quite silent, you mindlessly bopping your head to whatever mainstream song played on the radio, while Taehyung tapped his fingers against the steering wheel or his lap. 

You found your eyes wandering to his slender fingers wrapped around the wheel every so often, sometimes venturing to the other one he placed against his thigh. You began reprimanding yourself once you realized with all the staring, observing and ogling, you most certainly had a thing for his hands already. 

Fuck. 

They were just so big, bigger than what you’ve seen of the average man and it didn’t help that they looked crafted to perfection. 

There was just something about the veins that decorated them, his palm large in size as his fingers seemed deft turning and working the steering wheel. His little accessories like a ring or two, bracelets and his watch did absolutely nothing to deter your interest either.

It only increased once you realized he looked good driving, really good. You knew men had this common attractiveness to them when they drove, watching them all focused and effortlessly working the car somehow sexy; but watching Taehyung drive was another experience entirely. 

He looked insanely hot, and you felt like throwing yourself out your window for even thinking such a thing. It was another case of you ogling him without realizing until his deep voice suddenly fished you out of your thoughts, questioning. “Did you like the wedding?” 

“Huh?” 

“The wedding, did you like it?” Taehyung repeated, glancing at you. 

“Does it really matter if I did?” You asked, this one phrase seeming to perfectly sum up the misfortune of your life, provoking an ironic laugh even. 

“I think it does. A bride should always enjoy her wedding.” 

“Well, I didn’t.” You deadpanned, your expression turning frustrated having to remember that one of, if not the most special night of your life had just been robbed of you, thrown to the wolves while you were only left to accept the sad fact. 

“C’mon, you didn’t enjoy a single thing?” Taehyung didn’t mean to flash back to the kiss you two shared, though found himself doing exactly so. 

You didn’t enjoy that? he questioned in his head. 

“Not really, I just imagined having more choice in the wedding.” You answered honestly, trying not to sulk so much. “It’s not you, I just... thought I’d be able to decide things at my own wedding. I’m grateful your parents did so much, but I didn’t really get to choose anything.” You grew more solemn as your gaze fixated on nothing, watching the world pass you by through the car window. 

“My favourite flowers weren’t even there.” You said only despondently to yourself, shoulders drooping, though Taehyung didn’t miss it. 

“You don’t like roses?”

Your eyes flashed towards him with furrowed eyebrows, surprised he heard your comment. You straightened up before shrugging back a response. “I like peonies.” 

Taehyung looked at your side profile as you turned away, finding the conversation turning more sorrowful than he liked. He allowed some silence to linger as you leaned your chin against your palm, boringly watching the bustling streets.  

He decided to change the subject.

“So you don’t think I’m an asshole, huh?” 

“What?”

“You said you always see ‘asshole CEO’s’ getting people to drive them around. But I don’t, so I’m not an asshole to you?” Taehyung halved his attention between you and the road, glancing in your direction with one hand working the steering wheel.

You thought the question over, “No, you’re not an asshole.” You said simply, distracted by the thoughts that previously occupied your mind. 

“I see.” Taehyung pursed his lips. Another beat of silence passed through the downcast air before Taehyung perked up again.

“Is it just the driving? Or do you have other criteria?” Taehyung asked inquisitively, leaning back into his seat as he observed you. 

You could detect from the corner of your eyes the way his stance drew attention to his legs, thighs broad as he sat. “I guess there is.” 

“Like what?”

You didn’t really know why Taehyung was so curious. You thought it was common knowledge what the stereotypical asshole CEO was like; they were nearly all jerks with horrible one-percenter mentalities and treated people like gravel.  

You scoffed a bit. “They’re usually so full of themselves. They act like they own the place all the time, which makes sense at their own companies but not everywhere else. It’s like the position gets to their heads. Even the way they talk is condescending, belittling, or straight up rude to anyone not on their level. It wouldn’t kill to be nice.” You revealed almost too eagerly, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung as you viewed the traffic on the road ahead, remembering he was a CEO himself. 

Long story short, you’ve had your fair share of experiences meeting them as you grew up during the beginnings of your father’s company. They were quick to skew your opinion ever since you watched the way they treated your father all due to having a start-up, for simply being small in name or reputation. They acted like he was less than, some even daring to behave as though his company would simply never make it. 

It always boiled your blood, left an extremely distasteful image of CEOs and the business world in your head. 

And you were certain it all sucked after that. 

“Understandable.” Taehyung nodded agreeably. “But you think I don’t fit any of that?” He rested a hand against his thigh, sitting laxed as he spread his legs apart further. This time it was definitely hard to miss the way they appeared, all laid out and long as your eyes drank him in, following up his thighs all the way to his-

“You don’t. I thought maybe since you’re super successful you’d be full of yourself. But you’re not, really.” You snapped yourself out of whatever the hell you were doing, trying to refocus on the conversation.

“Ah, seems like a stepping stone.” 

“Stepping stone? Towards what?”

“Towards you not hating me.” His voice came out with a more solemn timbre than you expected, his jaw tightening for a mere second. 

Taehyung only thought such a thing because even if he decided you didn’t harbour negative feelings towards him, there was no way of him determining whether that was true or not without your real input. 

“I don’t hate you, Taehyung. I don’t.. think I can.” You claimed with poignancy, his statement causing you to reflect on your own feelings about him. 

You don’t hate Taehyung, you couldn’t because he did absolutely nothing wrong in this situation. He was dragged in just like you were. You only despised the unfairness of the arrangement, not him. 

There wasn’t much to hate about him.  

“So you’re saying you like me then, aren’t you?” Taehyung suddenly teased light-heartedly, all smug as his amused eyes flickered to you. 

“Shut up, I never said that.” You turned away, scandalized by his remark. 

“I’m kidding. But, why do you think you can’t hate me? I pretty much.. ruined your life.” Taehyung internally felt his chest tighten at the words, remembering the exact thoughts from where he stood no less than 24 hours ago, seconds from lawfully marrying you. 

“And I didn’t ruin yours?” This time you turned your gaze towards Taehyung, meaningfully. Your eyes instinctively communicated your emotions as they locked with his for a moment, Taehyung all attentive. 

“I took away from you just as much you took away from me. We both ruined each other’s lives, there’s no use in blaming each other. That’s why I can’t hate you.” You finalized, crossing your arms and opting to watch the passing buildings through your window again. 

Taehyung absorbed your sudden confession with reason, realizing that in a sense, you two were partners in this unfortunate case. Even if your matrimony constituted a forced partnership neither of you liked, there seemed to be a natural comradery in having to deal with the aftermath of that forced partnership. 

Trying to accept it. 

“I don’t think I can hate you, either.” Taehyung admitted, ending the more miserable part of the conversation as you fell silent. You thought he was done until he decided to bother you again. 

“I think you’re still saying you like me, though.” 

You turned to him half-appalled before pointing towards the road, eyes narrowed. “Just drive us home, will you?” 

Taehyung laughed at the moment and pressed down on the accelerator, internally grinning at the fact you never said no to his statement. 

“This is your house?” You found yourself gawking again at something that belonged to Taehyung, stepping inside a luxury home you’ve only ever dreamed of living in. Sure, you lived with your parents until you were 18, though your father was still starting out with his company for most of those years, not exactly owning anything too luxurious until after you permanently moved out.

So as you stood trying to prop your heels off yourself, your jaw dropped at the sheer elegance and high-status look to the interior of Taehyung’s home. You had already done enough gawking at the exterior, but being inside and processing the fact that you were now to inhabit this home for the rest of your life sent another wave of shock. 

You immediately observed Taehyung was the type who decorated his home with only the finest, his taste easily identifiable. Aesthetic, lavish, charming. He seemed like a man of utter simplicity though his home said otherwise, showcasing an artistic, exquisite feel you never really expected from him. 

“When will you stop saying that?” He titled his head and smiled through a laugh, removing his shoes and slipping into his indoor slippers. 

“Right, sorry.” You were still struggling for normalcy, somehow forgetting almost every hour Taehyung’s wealth and only registering it once you saw something that indicated it. 

Taehyung sauntered inside and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his abode. He enjoyed nothing more than being home, in the comfort of his own space. Especially for someone who worked so busily, he found pleasure in doing the bare minimum at home. Relishing in the feeling right now, he pressed his lips together in a smile before glancing back at your struggling figure, catching sight of your size. 

His eyebrows shot up to the sky. “Woah, you’re short.” 

“Huh?” 

“I think I’ve only ever seen you in heels.” Taehyung informed. “Now that you’re not wearing them you’re a lot shorter than I thought. You’re tiny.” He pointed out as he eyed you from head to toe, processing the amount of height you lost simply from removing your shoes. 

“I mean, that’s kind of what heels do, you know, they add height.” You deadpanned, stating the obvious for him. 

“Sorry, it’s just..” Kind of cute, he thought, though fought for another response. “I could probably throw you.” 

Nice save. 

“Excuse me? It’s not my fault you’re so tall.” You scowled at him. “Besides, you’re all height and no muscle, you probably can’t even carry me.” 

“Wanna see me try?” Taehyung was already coming towards you with his arms held out and you sputtered immediately, “No, no, no.” you held your hands up defensively. “Let’s just start the house tour, yeah?” you offered a smile for compromise. 

“That’s what I thought.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes coyly and turned on his heel, signaling you to follow him. 

What you realized strolling through the home as Taehyung discussed its details was that it emphatically represented him like an open book. Even if Taehyung was predominantly unreadable and seemed to always hide a mystery behind his eyes, you could see nearly all of him reflected in his home. 

You often found valuable trinkets or sentiments scattered around the house. It seemed like he cherished a lot of things in his life, namely memories or people. It would also be hard to miss the exquisite selection of paintings and embellishments he draped the walls with, all harbouring their own charm and adding to the overall artistic feel of his home. 

There were famous works consisting of Vincent Van Gogh all the way to local Korean artists you’ve never heard of, though admired their work. 

It seemed as though he selected the paintings himself. 

Another large aspect you couldn’t miss were the many photos he kept, calling to question whether they were of his own work. 

“Did you take these?” You approached a shelf in one of his grand hallways on the second floor, hand brushing the wooden frame of a captured photo; six men including Taehyung himself posing comfortably, like they were extremely close, backdrop reflecting what seemed to be a trip.  

“I took all of them.” He stated casually, hands tucked into his pockets as he eyed the shelf along with you. 

“All?” 

He simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further as he watched you admire the photos, yourself impressed by his adeptness for photography. 

“You’re really good.” You complimented absentmindedly, enjoying the other photos of not only people but scenery, empty streets, candid shots from what looked to be his own little adventures. 

“Thanks.” Was all Taehyung could manage, trying to mask the sheer gratitude he felt hearing the first ever person to admire his work; something that wasn’t related to being a CEO or a businessman. 

He also felt slightly embarrassed you’d seen a small part of him he usually hid.

Taehyung continued walking down the hallway until he reached the end, revealing what you could tell was the largest room in the house. You were thrown off by just how unnecessarily large it was. It seriously reminded you of an extravagant hotel suite, more like the grandest one among them. 

“This is our room.” Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards its interior. 

“Our?” 

Taehyung nodded “I should’ve told you earlier but I wanted us to sleep in the same room. If we slept apart our marriage wouldn’t look convincing to my two housekeepers. I trust them but I don’t want any information about us getting out to the public, not over my dead body.” Taehyung stated in earnest as he relayed the information, wandering further into the room. 

“You really care that much about publicity?” you genuinely questioned. 

Taehyung scoffed. “Not me, I couldn’t care less about what people think.” He denied instantly, almost laughably. “It’s my father. He hates bad press, especially concerning our family or the company.” 

“I thought bad press is still press, so it’s good.” You suggested as you followed him further into the room, admiring that though large, his room held a sense of comfort to it. Quite frankly, all of his home felt rather welcoming and cozy, surprising of a CEO who ran such a monstrously successful company.

“My father doesn’t think so. Kim Enterprises has always been generational, each of our CEO positions strictly kept within the family. Our name is our brand and pride, it alone accounts for at least half of our success. We’re extremely well-known for our high status, it’s just plain fact in the upper social circles of Korea. We can’t afford to taint our name with petty things like bad press or corruption, our reputation is too valuable.” Taehyung stated this all nonchalantly as he adjusted his suit jacket in his mirror, like it was something he’s grown accustomed to and has known all his life. 

You found your opinion impeding his words.  

“So you can never just, escape this life? As long as you’re a Kim you’re bound to this company?” You found the concept wildly restrictive, clearly shackling down any person that would run the business and you felt a disagreeing shiver shoot through your spine. 

“Of course, why would you want anything else?” Taehyung tiled his head to the side, eyeing you in genuine questioning and your entire being was trying to bite back the desire to correct him, tell him there’s so much more to life than just some company your family owns. Though you opted for changing the subject instead, unwilling to step on his toes and dictate his life when you knew next to nothing about it. 

It wasn’t your place. 

“Woah, you have a balcony?!” You exclaimed with a simper, eyes flickering towards the curtains that revealed two ajar French doors leading to an open space.

You made towards it excitedly and stopped just in the middle of the platform, enjoying the breeze of the fresh air.

“It’s my favourite part of the house.” You didn’t even realize Taehyung followed you until his towering figure stood directly behind you, feeling his proximity permeate through your body. 

You swallowed. 

“Why don’t you look at the view?” Taehyung cocked his head towards the railing of the balcony, though you didn’t move a step. 

You weren’t about to tell Taehyung you’re terribly afraid of heights.

“I-I can see from here. Wow, looks beautiful.” You perked up superficially, trying to throw him off and changing the subject again. “By the way, what’s our closet situation gonna look like?” 

“Ah, let me show you.” Taehyung strided back into the room towards the sliding double doors you spotted earlier. He almost theatrically glided both dark wooden panels open and your jaw dropped for the 47th time today. 

You were welcomed by a ridiculously large walk-in closet, enough to be renovated into its own bedroom. You simply couldn’t normalize its size, especially after registering every suit, tie, watch or accessory Taehyung stored in the gracious space. 

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much money lied in here. 

“Oh my God.” Was all you could manage, meandering in sparingly as you viewed each and every expensive piece he owned in the room, no doubt of the highest quality designers, finest of men’s fashion. 

“You don’t have to worry about unpacking and moving in here, the housekeepers will do that for you.” Taehyung watched as you looked upon in awe, finding the way your eyes sparkled with emotion very similar to that of Bambi’s.  

“How will I fit-”

“I specifically made space for you, there’s enough.” Taehyung stated, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He’d resolved a while ago he really would try to take this marriage seriously, victoriously achieve the work-life balance his father kept preaching. 

He saw giving up his closet space as the first step. 

It was indeed so because Taehyung thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He genuinely adored every suit, accessory and outfit in his collection, though if he wanted to reach this new goal of balance, successfully add you to his list of priorities, then he had to be willing to cut down. 

Even if that meant reallocating a third of his exorbitant wardrobe just for you, he’d try not to mind. 

“Are you sure? I could just use another room’s-” 

“I want to.” Taehyung finalized as his eyes turned unreadable from across the room, locking his gaze with yours and you were only left to look back impressed, his generosity unforeseen. 

“Thank you.” You voiced a little weak, still shy by the suffocating nature of his stare. 

“Don’t mention it.” He offered plainly, propping himself off the wall. He looked off to the side eyeing the empty pockets of space he left for you, until your voice called out to him.  

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?” He snapped his vision back to you. 

You wanted to ask him something, more so a favour and you were unsure how to word the request. “Um.. I didn’t want to ask so openly, but..” You found yourself beating around the bush, timid of what his response would be. 

“Go on.” 

“Um, so it seemed like there were a lot of empty rooms in this house, and I was just wondering if I could maybe.. transform one of them into an art studio for myself?” You winced at your own request. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just I had one at my old place and it really grew on me. I would get most of my work done in that room and gained a lot of inspiration from it. I have a lot of art supplies and designed often in that studio, so I need a home for all my supplies and it would suck getting rid of it all. I’m sorry it means I would have to steal one of your rooms in the house, if you don’t want me to then-” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but break out into a small grin as he watched you ramble on, shyly fidget with your fingers, so apprehensive of asking him for something and it reminded him why he was so eager to provide you with anything you wanted. 

You spent too long trying to do everything on your own, achieve everything on your own, relying solely on yourself. Taehyung could see this all as plain as day, quite enjoying of how he’s never really met someone like you, and wanted you to know you didn’t always have to be so independent.  

Especially with him. 

“Y/N.” He called out to you with the same honey-coloured tone from last night, stopping you. Your eyes flickered to his, awaiting his next sentence and Taehyung already found himself having a thing for your doe-eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Of course you can have a room. You can have anything in this house. It’s yours.” Taehyung stated with a degree of assurance, his eyes locking with yours in earnest. 

You both shared a look as your lips curved into a gracious smile, biting your lip to contain it. His stare wasn’t so much intimidating as it was merely.. calm. Gazing at you for the sole purpose of gazing, and you found some heat rushing to your face under his scrutiny. 

Taehyung seemed to realize he was staring and immediately cleared his throat, turning a little nervous as he began another conversation. “So um, I’m sorry to say this,” he began with unease, almost apprehensive and you didn’t know what he was so sorry about. “But I have work today.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Taehyung internally winced at your reaction, hands finding his pockets. “I took some time off for the wedding, so now I have twice the amount of work left behind. I need to complete it.” He informed straightforwardly. 

“Our wedding was just yesterday, though, aren’t you tired?” You were only taken aback because you were slightly concerned for his wellbeing, wasn’t he tired from yesterday? You recalled him knocking out almost immediately upon hitting the pillow of your hotel bed last night, snoozing away. 

“Maybe, but I can’t afford to rest. I’ll only have more to complete if I do, so I won’t be spending anymore time with you today.” Taehyung relayed the information, readying himself for the even greater disappointing news he’d be passing on. 

“Actually, we won’t be able to go on our honeymoon, either.” Taehyung thought it was best to slip in all the bad news, growing more and more unrelaxed as he was unsure of how you’d react. 

Though what you said next had him nearly floored.

“Honeymoon? Taehyung, that’s the least of my concerns, you should at least rest a day before getting back to work. That’s not really healthy.” You chastised him as lightly as possible, still afraid to be stepping on his toes when you didn’t know his life. 

Taehyung was certain you’d hate having been stripped of a beautiful vacation where you could’ve relaxed in the sun and tropics of Cancun. Your father had mentioned to him you’ve always longed to visit the breath-taking city in Mexico, its clear waters and tropical air as a means to truly get away from your stifling life. 

So when he found you disregarding the trip altogether and instead focusing on him, more precisely his health, he was left damn well speechless. 

There you were again paying attention to the littlest things about him he didn’t care much for; he still had that bandage you offered him a month ago tucked into one of his pockets, not wanting to use the adhesive just yet. 

“I’ll be fine. I’m just sorry we can’t go on the vacation because of me, it would’ve been nice, you know?” Taehyung apologized, feeling genuinely guilty for having ruined the honeymoon. Even if you two weren’t going to travel as some lovey-dovey couple, you both simply could’ve enjoyed the time off.

“It’s okay, just, at least work from home today. Heading to the office would be too much.” You suggested for the sake of the fatigue you could discern on him. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna be home for the next few days since everyone thinks we’ll be on our honeymoon.” 

“Oh. That’s.. good.” You nodded faintly, half at the idea you two were even faking your honeymoon and half at the blasphemous energy he had to work after yesterday. 

The sleep from last night was nearly not enough to recharge from the antics of the wedding, having drained your batteries for the next few days. You were certain his were drained too; he was half the damn couple. 

“I should get going. I’ll send Mrs. Choi and Seo up with your things. They’re probably finished with lunch too, you should eat.” Taehyung advised as he stepped out of the walk-in closet, running a hand through his gorgeous hair and you couldn’t help but ogle at the sexy way his strands fell back on him. 

“Okay.” You voiced as you followed him out, watching him near the room’s door and just about to vacate the premise before you spoke up. “Taehyung.” 

He stopped in his tracks, peering back at you. “Yes?” 

“You should eat something, too.”

Taehyung half-smiled at you with a nod “Sure”, before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone. 

And you couldn’t help but kind of like the way he smiles. 

It was well into the evening now, bordering dinner time as you helped the last of your clothes into Taehyung’s closet, refusing to let the older housekeepers do all the work by themselves considering it was your own luggage. 

You also tried to occupy Taehyung’s room as scarcely as you could with your belongings, feeling odd about suddenly moving in with all your might and changing things around. It just didn’t feel appropriate, like you were invading his space and so you opted for scattering only your necessary items.

“That should be the last of it, Mrs. Choi.” You retrieved your last piece of clothing from the rather soft-spoken housekeeper, tucking the blazer away among the rest. You were satisfied to see not only your wardrobe neatly organized now, but fit just about right with Taehyung’s things. 

He was right about space, there was enough.

“Mrs. Kim, please rest. You didn't have to move a muscle at all for us.” Mrs. Choi remarked, genuinely concerned for you. 

“Yes, please, Mrs. Kim. We can finish up with the little things. I’ve just finished preparing dinner downstairs, you should eat.” Mrs. Seo chimed in as she entered the walk-in closet, gesturing towards the door. 

“Are you sure? I can-”

“Mrs. Kim, you’re very kind for offering your help, we’re very grateful you’ve done so. Though we are Mr. Kim’s housekeepers, we are meant to care for his home and his lovely wife. You need not worry about helping us.” Mrs. Choi stated with an earnest tone, speaking respectfully as she addressed you. 

You were going to protest again before you considered her words, registering that if you indeed helped them, it would technically negate the entire purpose of their work. 

You bit back your reply as a result, crafting a new one. 

“I see, I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo, Mrs. Choi. I’m just.. very used to doing things on my own,” you looked towards the ground. “I apologize.” You almost dipped for a bow until Mrs. Choi rapidly cautioned you, scrambling towards your figure. 

“Oh dear, Mrs. Kim! You do not need to bow to us, you’re Mr. Kim’s wife, you are the one who is bowed to.” 

“Yes, you do not need to apologize either, we appreciate your help, it was very sweet of you.” Mrs. Seo added with a warm smile, bowing to you instead. “Please go for dinner downstairs, I’ve also informed Mr. Kim for dinner, though I’m unsure if he has made his way down yet.” She added on, urging you towards the room's exit and you recognized it was probably better to listen to her. 

Even if all this high-class, status stuff had yet to sink in or make sense to you after being away for so long, you understood there was an eventual tolerance you had to build for it. Just as Mrs. Choi said, you’re Kim Taehyung’s wife now, and that came with a hell lot of status you hadn’t even scratched the surface of yet.

You could already tell it was going to be a pain in the ass. 

“I suppose I should. I’ll get going, then.” You smiled graciously at both women, appreciative of their kindness and began vacating the closet. You just about pulled the room door open before Mrs. Seo suddenly came to you.

“Oh! Mrs. Kim,” she halted you. “I was informed by Mr. Kim to provide this to you. He would have done so himself though he’s quite busy at the moment.” Mrs. Seo extended her hand and presented a pristine looking card, black and incredibly sleek in design. Your eyebrows furrowed until you noticed the telltale symbols, almost ominously minimal branding indicating a rare card only those with some of the highest networths in Korea could own. 

Your eyes widened in horror. 

The Black Card. 

“P-pardon?” You needed her to reiterate, there was no way Kim Taehyung was giving you a black card, the same card that was limitless on credit and only exclusively owned by the affluent one-percenters of society. 

“He’s informed me this belongs to you now, and that you’re to keep it in your possession.” Mrs. Seo elaborated, smiling through the mental whiplash you were currently experiencing.  

“Belongs to.. me? This is mine?” You were still having trouble processing, why would Taehyung be gifting you this? Who’s account was it even attached to? Was it yours and he’s decided to graciously pay all the expensive fees, or worse, was it joined with his own account? 

Don’t tell me it’s joined with his account.  

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s yours.” Mrs. Seo held it out more outwardly, nudging it in your direction. 

Your mouth fell agape for another second before you mentally collected yourself, quickly grabbing the card and thanking her as you made your exit, marching through the house for Taehyung’s unbelievable ass. 

Taehyung could not be providing you with this card. It was irrational, simply had to have been a decision he made with at least two bottles of soju in him, right? You didn’t care what his reasoning would be, you were denying and returning this. There was no way in hell you’d accept this card, especially if he linked his own personal account to it. 

You tried loosely recalling where Taehyung mentioned his study, logically assuming he was working there. You inspected majority of the second floor, working your way through the halls until you finally caught sight of the familiar wooden doors with glass panels, slightly ajar, light bleeding through.

You made for the room quickly and stormed in without a care, attempting to steady your breathing from all the rushing around. You caught Taehyung completely off guard, having shredded his suit jacket to instead sport the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, adorning black-rimmed, designer glasses. 

He looked 100x hotter than he should’ve. 

Taehyung suddenly propped up from the leaned-back position he’d assumed on his chair, expression caught by surprise. “Y/N?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing. 

You held up the card and addressed him immediately. “Taehyung, what’s this? Why are you giving this to me?” You huffed, looking at him incredulously. 

“The card? For you to use..?” Taehyung responded cooperatively, confused as to why you seemed so frazzled. 

“But why, Taehyung? This is a black card, the annual fees on this are insane and I can’t pay-” 

“You’re not paying for them, I am.” Taehyung cut in, shutting the binder he was holding and placing it on his desk. 

“What? No, no way. If it’s my account then I should be the one-”

“It’s not your account, either, it’s mine.” Taehyung brought his elbows to his desk, hands clasped together in front of his lips. It was now he gave you that same intimidating stare he did back when you first met him, calculative and devoid of expression. 

It seemed he did this when he got serious. 

“Your account? But-Taehyung, this is your money, I can’t just have it. Please, take this back.” You stepped towards his desk to return the card eagerly, but Taehyung’s firm tone stopped you. 

“No, it’s yours. I gave it to you to keep.” His words held this underlying sense of authority, scratch that, dominance when he spoke seriously, resolute. You could instantly tell he possessed a natural sense of alpha male characteristics, enough that even though he wasn’t being harsh or looming, his words and the tone he coated them with held more power than you could manifest. 

You almost cowered, but remained adamant on returning the card. It was worse with the card attached to his account, you couldn’t just keep Taehyung’s money like it was your own, it simply wasn’t. Your money sat ordinarily in a separate account on a separate card, which you were happy enough to use. You weren’t going to mooch off of him, it went against every principle that made up your very being. 

“This is your money, Taehyung. I have no right to use it.” 

“You’re my wife. You have every right in the world to use it.” Taehyung countered with no emotion, or at least any you could discern, uncertain what was running through his mind with only his eyes as a guide towards the answer. 

And you knew his eyes didn’t tell. 

“Taehyung, this doesn’t feel right to me. This isn’t my money and I can’t use it.” You emphasized more strongly, drawing closer to his desk though halting your actions once he spoke again. 

“My money is your money, you can always use it.” You knew he was relaxed, appearing practically unbothered as he leaned onto his desk and eyed you. Though with the intense look in his eyes, his aura screaming for anyone within the vicinity to submit to him, he could easily seem frustrated with the situation, namely you. 

And it made you want to crawl into a hole.

“No, it isn’t. I’ve already intruded your home, taken your closet, your room and even an extra one just for myself. I will not take your money either. Please, take this back.” You held out the card more prominently, desperate to have him understand you.

Taehyung wasn’t necessarily frustrated by you, no, he was slightly pissed you kept referring to everything as just his and not yours, that he was the only one considering you two as a married couple now while you still viewed each other separately.

Did you not see him as your husband yet?

He also disliked the fact that you seemed scared of him, or unable to trust him like last night. He could see you fighting back the urge to cower away, genuinely upsetting him you still held a degree of fear and unsureness in your eyes. 

Why are you so afraid of me? 

“Y/N, everything isn’t just mine anymore, it’s yours, too. We’re a married couple, husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” Taehyung tried to reason, loosening himself up more to seem less intimidating, more approachable.

“But money, Taehyung-it’s different. I didn’t even want to take my own father’s money, there’s no way I’ll take yours, please.” Pleading leaked into your tone as you lips started doing that thing where they just about pout, emphasizing their plushiness and Taehyung couldn’t help but notice it again. 

He started growing frustrated as he removed his glasses, placing them on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he was digesting the situation, searching for the best approach.

“Y/N, look. I know the kind of situation you had with your father, but I’m not him. Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Choi and Seo addressed you as?” 

You thought it over, unknowing of where he was taking this. “They.. called me Mrs. Kim.”

“Exactly. Even my last name is yours, everything I have is yours. I’m your husband, I’m always going to provide you with things from now on. That card is just one of many.” Taehyung offered his best explanation, making sure his tone wasn’t as serious to sidetrack any fear you still had.

“I understand. But this is a black card, Taehyung, and it’s your hard-earned money, not mine. It feels wrong even just having it.” You couldn’t fight your inner turmoil, you genuinely believed this to be wrong. After spending almost a decade trying to work for yourself, pay for yourself, seldom seeking the help of another, this just left a disagreeing feeling to churn in your stomach.

Taehyung sighed heavily before pushing his chair back, rising from his seat. He made his way over to you where you grew unintentionally defensive, retracting from him slightly as he neared you. He noticed it and pursed his lips, reaching out for your upper arms and taking them warmly, tenderly, waiting for your eyes to meet his before he spoke to you.

“Y/N, do you remember what I said before I kissed you yesterday?”

Your eyes widened having been reminded of the intimate moment, nodding at him innocently. Taehyung witnessed you trying to avoid eye contact and found himself softening. 

“I didn’t say that without reason. I meant it when I said I would take care of you. Your father is a different story, if you don’t want to use his money, I respect that. But I’m your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you things.. do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung reasoned, gripping you lightly. “I want you to use my money, you’re allowed to use it.” He tried voicing with sincerity, earnestly, hoping he could change your mind.

He saw you still hesitating to accept the offer, however, deciding on a compromise.

“Look, you don’t have to use it all the time. You can still use your own card, but you can use mine here and there. Seriously, Y/N, using it won’t even make a dent on me. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, use it at your discretion.” Taehyung could practically see your gears shifting, searching for your eyes as he wished you’d understand him. 

He saw this as a second step towards work-life balance, only feeling the responsibility and genuine desire to be the good husband in spite of the unfortunate nature of your marriage. He didn’t want any doubt concerning his ability to be a good husband, either.

After all, when Taehyung did something, he always did the best he possibly could.

“Okay, I guess you’re right. But I do have my own money, and I’ll be using that 100x more often than yours.” You relaxed and oddly let him hold you, looking down at the black card that rested in your hand and clutching it to your palm.

Taehyung realized he was still holding you and let go, retiring to fluff his hair instead. You caught a glimpse of his bicep underneath his rolled up sleeve as he did so, and you truly hated you chose a time like this to find him stunningly attractive.

“You should come downstairs, Mrs. Seo prepared dinner.” You ignored your thoughts.

“You go first, I’ll be down in a second.”

You nodded agreeably and turned away, leaving his study. You took a second look at the card in your hand, then glanced around the house as you strolled through it, trying to embed what Taehyung said into the crevices of your resistant thinking.

Everything I have is yours, you reiterated, registering that Taehyung had in fact grown accustomed to the idea of you two as a couple already. He’s accepted it, embraced it, even enforced it now with his earlier declarations and this black card. You automatically felt behind, like you were the tortoise in the race and needed to pick up your pace.

If Taehyung had already come to terms with your marriage, it was only a matter of time before you did as well. Marriage is a two-way street, and if you wanted to make this easier on both yourself and Taehyung, you would compromise with him, accept the true sense of partnership that entailed your status as husband and wife.

Thus was the exact mantra that played in your head as you fiddled with the card, remembering the way his big hands held you.

Warm.

It was night. 

You could say it was like any other ordinary night, though that would be a gargantuan lie. 

This night was the first time Taehyung and yourself were going to sleep in the same bed.

In your own home. 

The hotel suite left you both with your own space and privacy since it was a random, public room with no personality or attachment to it whatsoever, making it easier and comfortable to sleep with him.

So when you emerged from your walk-in closet in a thin camisole, loose pajama shorts and without a bra, you were cursing yourself. God damn you for needing to sleep in minimal clothing for comfort. You’d slept in a loose t-shirt and bottoms at the suite last night since it was a public room, and long story short, it left you tossing and turning more than you liked. 

You had no clue prior to arriving here that you’d be sharing a room with Taehyung. You’d expected to sleep in a different one, in the privacy of your own room where you could prance around as you wished and as a result packed your usual sleepwear. 

But now that you were left having to slumber with Taehyung, clothes on the more revealing side, there was no turning back. 

And what there was truly no turning back from, was when you opened the closet door and your eyes landed on Taehyung’s shirtless, wet self drying his hair after a shower. 

You immediately malfunctioned.

Your eyes fell to his bare back, ruffling his wet hair as his plaid pajama pants hung loosely at his hips. You immediately exclaimed and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to shut yourself up. 

You did not expect at all for Taehyung to have such honey-coloured skin. It was like it naturally glowed, a healthy tone that made him appear all the more delectable. It certainly didn’t help that his shoulders were broader than you first observed, sincerely an other-worldly experience when he wasn’t wearing clothes. 

You also got an all-access view of his trap muscles, adding to the width of his shoulders overall and when Taehyung turned around to the sound of the closet door opening, gaze locking with yours, you could confirm his neck, chest and collarbones were indeed crafted to perfection.

Taehyung’s eyes widened momentarily drinking you in, not expecting your light sleepwear when just last night he witnessed you in a full pajama set. Not to mention, and he hated that he could tell, but you weren't wearing a bra. 

And the camisole did nothing to hide that. 

Taehyung straightened himself up realizing you two were practically gawking at each other, resting the towel around his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s what you sleep in?” 

“That’s what you sleep in?” You retorted, arms over your chest. 

“Guys usually sleep shirtless, this is normal.” Taehyung gestured towards his own body and you had half a mind to floor yourself. It’s like Taehyung knew but also didn’t know he was hot, knew the effect he had on people though never grew cocky or proud enough to purposefully parade it around. 

And it frustrated you even more; he was fairly humble about being a sexy Greek God. 

“Girls sleep like this too, this is normal.” You copied him, looking off to the side. 

“I was kidding, I only sleep shirtless sometimes. Just get in bed.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as he gestured towards the sheets, returning to his palace of a bathroom to toss his towel in the hamper and pull a t-shirt over his head. 

You wanted to move, feet just about ready to carry you but you never abandoned your spot. Instead, you pressed your lips into a thin line contemplating that sharing a bed with Taehyung, in clothes like this and in such proximity, all held a degree of intimacy you didn’t know you two shared yet. 

It’s only been a day. 

So when Taehyung returned to your unmoving figure, arms holding your chest and avoiding eye contact with him, he was quick to get the message. 

“Um.. if you really don’t want to sleep here, I can give you another room.” Taehyung offered, figuring himself this may be too soon. 

“No, it’s okay, that’d be kind of a hassle.” You waved him off. “Besides, your bed looks comfy.”

You were honestly trying to live up to your acceptance that Taehyung was the man you’d spend your life with now, so you’d better start getting use to him. You’d sleep next to him for numerous nights, spend endless days together and share a multitude of things; this would simply just be a first of many first times. 

So you paddled over to the bed and removed the covers to snuggle yourself in, the bed’s coolness sending a shiver through you before you hugged the blanket to yourself. Taehyung stood with a smile before crawling in himself, adjusting the covers to his liking. 

He felt at peace in a matter of seconds, the feeling of his own bed lulling him into a state of slumber already. He reached his arm out to shut off the lamp on his bedside table, leaving the room pitch dark and only his digital clock and balcony as a light source. 

You began to cower a bit in the darkness, thankful for the sheer curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill into the room. 

You felt another shiver run through your body when you shifted, realizing you were cold even under the sheets. You tried warming up on your own by shimmying the blanket around more comfortably, but it didn't do much. 

You were left lying on the bed trying to think warm thoughts, unintentionally breathing in the constant scent of Taehyung from his bed; his cologne, his aftershave, his body wash all filling your nostrils.

It was intoxicating, absolutely distracting and sleep began to slip your mind. It didn’t help that you were still cold too, moving around and turning onto your side where you now faced Taehyung. 

He seemed to have already dozed off, face tranquil as he slept soundlessly on his back. You couldn't help but admire his side-profile, the sparse moonlight illuminating his features. It was hard to not stretch your hand out and nearly run a touch along his cheek, like he was a rare work of art that naturally called for admiration.

You realized turning towards him that he radiated a wave of warmth from his body, remembering boys were pretty much furnaces while girls usually froze.

How wonderful it is to be a woman. 

You desired some of that heat and shuffled just a little closer to Taehyung, nearing the center of the bed. You discerned he was indeed warm and maneuvered slightly closer, just about stopping at the center of the bed. You fought back the urge to shimmy any closer, leaving a mindful gap between you two. 

You were seconds from catching a peace of mind until Taehyung unexpectedly spoke in the silence of the night, startling you. 

“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” The smirk in his voice was obvious, making you scrunch your nose and snap back at him. 

“Shut up, I’m not getting closer to you.” 

“You should, I’m really warm, and I can tell you’re cold.” There he was again teasing, his tone coy as he kept his eyes shut, unbothered. 

“Over my dead body.” You mocked him from earlier, turning away from him abruptly and pulling the covers over your head. 

Coffee was probably your favourite thing life had to offer. One of the couple things you’d fight someone over; coffee and your independence, if you wanted to be specific. 

So it made you genuinely happy Taehyung had such a wide selection of coffee to choose from, ranging from all kinds of beans to instant coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, you name it. It took no time for you to craft a cup to your liking, shuffle into a seat on the island and begin picking at the breakfast the housekeepers had whipped up earlier this morning. 

You’d woken up early today keeping in mind the day you had planned. You decided this to be another move-in day as part of your studio setup project you’ve entertained for the last week. The granted time off due to your odd honeymoon farce with Taehyung proved to actually come in handy, thankfully. 

It had been another peaceful morning for you, having woken up with sunlight gracing the walls, certain you could hear birds chirping as if you were in a Disney film and little mice would come out to start sewing the gown you’d wear as a princess. 

It had been a peaceful morning indeed, but when you stretched out to loosen your stiff muscles, the chaos that met you was anything but peaceful. Even if it’s occurred at least 5 times now, you kept forgetting that you shared a bed with someone else now, and that said someone had somehow always founds a way to gravitate towards you during the night, even daringly cast an arm over you sometimes. 

It left you in a state of panic registering that Taehyung’s, dare you say warm and cozy body would be just behind you, his chest mere centimeters from your back. You would stay still for some time, calculating the optimal way to remove yourself from his hold until he eventually stirred enough to loosen his grip, darting right out of bed. 

Other times, he’d wake earlier than you and you wondered what would cross his mind once he registered your oddly proximal bodies. 

Did it ever bother him?

Nonetheless, it brought a mischievous smile to your face thinking about the fact that Taehyung had such a perfectly human habit like cuddling. He was always so serious, so put together and a near machine at everything he did, seeming as though he wouldn’t give anything romantic the time of day. 

But it was hard to forget the fluffy feeling that blossomed in your chest when you would sense his proximity, maybe inviting a liking to it. You had always slept alone, only yourself and the darkness to keep you company in your lonely bed, in your lonely home. 

So sleeping next to someone, namely Kim Taehyung left an impression on you you couldn’t quite shake. It was difficult to erase the image of his calm, sleeping face after the handful of times witnessing it. Long eyelashes delicately pressed to the skin under his eyes, lips plush as he seemed to naturally pout in his sleep. The sunlight only accentuated his honey-coloured skin, adding a glow to his features that made him appear prettier than he already was. 

It was nice to think you’d wake up to that every morning. 

You found your mind still playing around with the idea until you snapped yourself out of it, questioning why the hell you always ventured off whenever you thought about him. 

Weird. 

You were scolding yourself until your eyes caught Taehyung strolling into the kitchen with his phone in is hand. He’d foregone a jacket today, black shirt sleeves folded to mid-forearm paired with black slacks.  

You were normal until you almost spat your coffee seeing he wasn’t wearing a tie but instead had the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing a generous view of his neck and the beginnings of his chest. 

Fucking hell.

You were staring stupidly until Taehyung peeked up at you, smiling “Morning.” 

“M-morning.” you stuttered.

He seemed unsuspecting as he returned his attention to his phone, proceeding to the kitchen counter and retrieving a cup to fix himself a drink. He appeared to be reading something conscientiously on his device, never taking his eyes off and you quickly became bored, ready to use the weapon you’d acquired. 

“So.. you’re a cuddler, huh?”

Taehyung nearly dropped his cup.  

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“You’re a cuddler when you sleep. Cute.” You rested your chin in your palm, playful smile on your face. 

“I think you’re mistaken, I am not a cuddler. And I’m not cute.” Taehyung denied as he only focused on the cup, his back to you. You then watched him reach for his selection of tea and purposefully evade the coffee, your eyes lighting up with mischief.  

“Wait, you’re a cuddler and you drink tea instead of coffee? Very cute.” You pulled on his leg, chuckling as you brought your mug to your lips

This was going to be fun.

“Shut up, I don’t like the taste and tea is healthier.” Taehyung practically sneered back, harshly ripping the packet of his tea bag.

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a cuddler.” You sipped on your coffee, unbothered as you swung your legs back and fourth. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you like it.” 

You nearly spat your drink. 

“What?” 

“I remember a certain someone that shuffles closer to me for warmth, no?” Taehyung snapped back as he returned to his phone and popped his tea into the microwave, his shoulders high to the sky. You could imagine his smug face proud of his remark while searching for your own, realizing that Taehyung was damn good at arguing and you’d really have to upgrade your comeback game to counter him. 

He was unfortunately your match.

“Even if I were one, which I’m not, It’s not like I’m committing a crime.” Taehyung suddenly finalized with a snippy tone, and you realized you may have hurt his ego. 

Men. 

“I never said it was a bad thing.” You commented under your breath and looked away, popping a raspberry into your mouth. 

Taehyung bit back a smirk as he retrieved his cup of tea, taking a sip as he returned to his phone and took a seat across from you. He began compiling his plate of breakfast as he worked his device, typing away with one hand as if he was drafting the Magna Carta. 

You became bored again.

“Why do you have so much coffee if you don’t like it?” You genuinely felt like inquiring, if he didn’t like the taste why would he have so much? 

“For my housekeepers, they drink it.” He took a sip of his tea, all attention on his phone. 

You nodded understandingly. “Why do you have two housekeepers, by the way? Isn’t one enough?” 

“So they can keep each other company.” He answered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to his phone as he bit a piece of his toast. You really hated that he wasn’t actively interacting with you because it only left room to stare at him, and that was never any good.  

He looked illegally attractive with the unbuttoned part of his shirt, your mind profusely bugging out over the exposed bit of his chest. You were reminded of the full view from last night, and began pondering how long you’d survive having to see that for the rest of your life. 

“O-oh, that’s nice.” You stuttered back a reply, squashing your previous thought.

You were actually quite impressed by the kindness Taehyung showed behind that decision, noticing he had these small moments where he was caring, considerate, all hidden behind his unreadable face and seriousness when it came to business. 

It was quite interesting. 

You were mindlessly eating until Taehyung spoke up, eyes flickering towards you. “What are you going to do today?” 

You swallowed your fruit. “I was planning on moving more stuff in again, start finishing my studio setup. Thank you again for the room, by the way.” You expressed your gratitude once more, forking some eggs into your mouth. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“What are you doing today?” you echoed his question, taking another swig of coffee.

“I’m working again. If you need anything I’ll be in my study.” Taehyung sent you a half-smile before snatching up his plate, bringing his phone to his ear as he stepped out of the kitchen. 

You sighed heavily only being left to think about your day, which would be majorly spent unpacking and arranging things. You had a plethora of art supplies, design tools and canvases to set up in your studio, leaving you constantly thinking of how to even begin. 

It would be a mission alone to sort through everything you had left, knowing you didn’t exactly label out of sheer laziness and would have to individually unbox and organize everything . 

It was this exact task that took up most of your day, time having slipped by in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t easy when you had to be rummaging through your belongings and situating them where you thought appropriate, also trying to envision a new look for your studio. 

You hadn’t realized 3 hours had passed until the ring of the front doorbell caused you to check your phone, curious as to who would be visiting your home in the middle of the day. You assumed it be one of the housekeepers and abandoned your work, cascading down the staircase and striding towards the grand entrance. 

You drew towards the monitor Taehyung had showed you just yesterday, explaining it to be your home security system. Taehyung detailed it had a camera for your front porch that detected movement and the doorbell alike, so you peered at the monitor to see the stranger outside your home. 

Your eyebrows furrowed registering a woman, her back turned towards the door as she fidgeted nervously with her purse in her hand. 

Sheer curiosity took you over and you paddled towards the door, unlocking it. You wore a smile on your face as you swung the door open, though it was immediately wiped off taking in the last person on earth you ever wanted to see. 

“Mother?”

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[randomshyperson]

Wanda x Reader - You’re the only exception

Gif is not mine.

Prompt from anon: “Childhood best friends, and reader is basically a fuckgirl who’s only soft for her childhood best friend wanda, they’re constantly teasing and flirting with each other but they never take each other seriously and then something happens and reader gets jealous and realizes she’s fallen for wanda and then she tries to go for it but wanda doesn’t take her seriously bcs she’s a fuckgirl and a player. “

Words:  4.964k ////// Read on AO3

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut, but its mainly fluffy

You wake up with an arm around your waist. Squinting slightly, you look around the room. You think you are in a warehouse, probably the one near Avenue Two, a few meters from the bar where you were last night. You don't know who the girl next to you is, but she is pretty. You didn't ask her her name when you danced with her, and she didn't ask yours when she dragged you here.

You remove your arm from around your waist and stand up, looking for your clothes. Judging by the brightness entering the room, it is morning. And you groan slightly, thinking that your parents are going to kill you.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you put on your pants and reach for your cell phone. The screen is glowing with several missed calls and voice mails. You roll your eyes impatiently at your parents' controlling mania.

- Were you going to sneak out? - said a female voice startling you slightly. The girl you were lying with woke up, and was sitting up in bed, her tone slightly ironic.

- No, I was going to leave a note. - You lie with a smile. And then you make your best sad expression. - I really have to go.

- My friends told me you were a player, I should have known you'd do that. - She replies without really looking upset.

You let out a dry laugh, finishing buttoning up your shirt and putting on your sneakers. She waves her hand and smiles as you leave the room.

//-//

You definitely need a cup of coffee. So when you leave the unknown girl's apartment, you look for a coffee shop. Entering the place, you sit at the counter, unlocking your cell phone to read your pending messages.

- What can I get you? - Someone asks and you raise your eyes, blinking slightly as you notice the attendant. You smile at her as she says.

- Your number.

She looks surprised, but smiles shyly, and then you tell her your actual order.

When she brings you your pancakes and a coffee, a piece of paper with her number on it is on your plate.

You eat while checking your cell phone, and from your instagram feed you find out that yesterday's party was amazing, and that your best friends had moved the celebration to a parking lot when the police asked them to turn down the music in the house. Yesterday had been Steve Rogers' birthday, but you couldn't make it because you went to a rock concert at a bar, and you actually had plans to join the party, but got involved with a girl and never showed up. You hoped Steve wouldn't mind.

Finishing your coffee, you smiled at the paper with the waitress's number on it before putting it in your pocket, and leaving the place, you probably weren't going to call.

//-//

Your mother is furious when you come home. She screams, and accuses. And you roll your eyes, drop your keys on the counter, and slam your bedroom door as you enter. You shower, and change into more comfortable clothes, and then escape through your bedroom window.

Within two minutes you are at the house of your neighbor and best friend, Wanda Maximoff. You climb up the wall ledge into her room, and tap on the window to get her to let you in.

- Hey, Romeo. - She mocks your position as she opens the window, you laugh lightly as you enter the room.

Wanda sits back in the chair at her study table while you throw yourself on her bed.

- Where were you last night? Steve asked about you at the party. - She says, glancing quickly at you before returning to writing in her notebooks.

- Wanda, darling, I love Steve. - You say. - But between him and a hot girl, which one do you think I'll choose?

Wanda laughs, making a wry expression.

- I should know.

- Is that jealousy? - You scoff slightly, making her laugh again.

- You wish.

And then there was a knock on the door, and Pietro, Wanda's twin brother, entered the room.

- Wanda I need to... Oh hello. - The boy smiled at you charmingly, and you just raised your middle finger at him, making him laugh. 

- What's wrong Pietro? - Wanda asked.

- I need you to give me a ride. - He says. - Daddy won't let me drive because of detention.

You giggled lightly, remembering that Pietro was grounded for fighting at school, and almost got suspended. You know because you spent a lot of time with the twins. Wanda lets out an impatient sigh.

- Where to?

- I have practice today. - He says shrugging, and Wanda frowns.

- It's Sunday. - She replies suspiciously.

- Oh, Wanda, come on. Please. - He asks, and Wanda rolls her eyes.

- You'll owe me.

She says as she gets up and Pietro leaves the room excited. 

- Are you going with us?  - she asks you, but you lazily deny it.

- Thanks, but I'm going to get some sleep.

- Make yourself comfortable, just close the window when you leave. - She tells you, and then leaves the room. 

You decided to sleep in your own bed, the smell of Wanda's shampoo on the pillows was distracting you for some reason.

//-//

Mondays were horrible. You dragged your feet toward the school entrance, wishing you could go back to bed. Your first period was history, and you were already sleepy with anticipation.

You barely stepped onto the school grounds when Tony Stark threw his arm around your shoulders, greeting you.

- You are completely crazy! - he remarked with amusement. You blinked in confusion, and he laughed. - I told you that girl was taken.

You really weren't following the story. You reached your lockers, and Tony let go of you just as Steve and Pietro reached you.

- What girl are we talking about, anyway? - you asked as you searched for your books.

- Romanoff, smartass! - Tony replied leaning on the locker beside him. - Someone saw you go down on her in the outdoor patios, and everyone is talking about it. - He tells you, and you giggle. 

- And this is a problem because why exactly? - you replied with irony.

Tony laughed incredulously. Steve and Pietro listened to the story with amused expressions on their faces.

- I don't know, actually. - He says. - But I don't think her boyfriend will be happy to find out.

- That's really not my problem. - You reply with mock amusement. And then you finish taking your books and close the locker, turning to Pietro. - Where is Wanda, anyway? When I left home, you guys weren't outside.

Pietro chuckles. 

- You were late. - he retorted. - We went ahead, and Wanda is probably talking to the coach.

The bell rings and you grumble, saying goodbye to your friends, since you don't share the same history class. You have been used to going to school with Wanda every day since the first grade, and you don't understand why you missed that brief moment so much this morning. You imagine that it is just the usual.

//-//

You only meet Wanda in the third period of the day. She is distracted, and you are curious.

You walk over to her desk, and she is smiling at her cell phone screen.

- What's with that smile? - You tease, and she immediately blocks the phone, putting it on the table, and making you look at her suspiciously. 

- I don't know what you are talking about. - She replies in a tone of embarrassment and mockery.

- My God, you're sending nudes, aren't you? - You exclaim in shock, and Wanda blushes slightly as she laughs, and you sit down beside her.

- You're the worst. - She retorts, looking forward.

- But I'm hot.

You tease, and Wanda rolls her eyes laughing again. You don't talk anymore because the chemistry teacher walks in next, and he hates talking in his class.

//-//

You are bored while listening to the health presentations from last term. You were the first to present, accompanied by Tony and Pietro, because you really wanted to finish this work soon, and now you were leaning over your desk, trying to stay awake while the other students were talking.

Tony patted you on the shoulder to get your attention, and motioned to your left side. You frowned, and then looked up to where he was talking.

It took you a moment to realize that at the two tables after yours was a student with her hand down the pants of the student next to her. You held back a laugh, looking away immediately. 

- No fucking way. - You commented to Tony, laughing softly. 

The professor asked you to be silent next, but you and Tony lowered your voices as much as possible to continue whispering.

- That's Valkyrie and Thor. - He tells you. - They hang out with the bikers kids.

- They'll be expelled, that's for sure. - You reply with irony.

But then the teacher says he will lower the grade of whoever is speaking and you sigh impatiently as you decide to be quiet.

//-//

Wanda is hiding something from you. And she has disguised it very well, because none of your friends have noticed her strange behavior. But you do notice. You notice her distraction, the way she is even longer on her cell phone, or how she has been sneaking out between cheer practice and class, and when you ask, she just says that she was studying in a quieter place.

But it is Friday, game night, and you will have to find out what this is some other time. You put on the helmet of your uniform and walk onto the field, listening to the excited shouts of the crowd. American football games were very crowded, even if they were not the playoffs.

Tony and Steve greet you with a pat on the shoulder as you join the circle of your teammates along with the coach.

- Are you ready, tigers? - she shouts to you after reviewing the moves one last time.

- Yes, coach! - You and the team shout in unison, and move into position.

When you score the winning touchdown, the team lifts you up in the air as the crowd screams and celebrates. And you are laughing and raising your arms, and your gaze falls to the cheering area, looking for Wanda. And then your stomach drops when you see her, wrapped in a kiss with a boy you don't know.

And you don't understand the feeling that settles in your stomach, so you kiss the first girl who smiles at you, hoping that the feeling will go away. And it doesn't.

//-//

Everyone is saying that Wanda Maximoff kissed a boy at the game on Friday, when you arrive at school on Monday. You didn't come to school with the Maximoffs again, nor did you talk to Wanda all weekend.

You eventually find out that the boy is called Vision, or Vis, and is probably going to become the next millionaire in the country with a genius invention. He is part of the science club, and the debate club, and you have never met him. And then you are putting your books away quite hard on your locker, and Steve looks at you curiously.

- What did the locker do to you? - He teases.

- Bite me. 

Your harsh answer makes Steve laugh, and he doesn't press. And then you're walking toward biology class, and the same girl from the game stops you in the hallway. You think her name is Pepper.

- Hey, can I talk to you? - she asks with mischief in her eyes. You knew that a conversation was not what she wanted. And you took one last glance into the room, catching a quick glimpse of Wanda smiling at the phone screen, before nodding in agreement, letting the girl drag you into the nearest bathroom.

//-//

You don't return until second period, and you wait for the teacher to go to the bathroom before sneaking into the room, and throwing yourself into the chair next to Wanda.

- Shit, you scared me! - She remarks when you suddenly arrive. You laugh lightly, throwing the bag on the desk. And then Wanda looks at you with a mixture of mockery and incredulity. - I was going to ask where you were, but I think I have my answer.

You look at her confused, and then she turns to her backpack and pulls out a small mirror, handing it to you. You giggle when you see your reflection, lipstick marks across your collarbone and cheeks, and your lips slightly swollen. A few open buttons in your shirt too.

You try to fix your appearance quickly, and return Wanda's mirror when you are finished, but she doesn't even look at you.

And then the professor is back, and Wanda is distant, and you ignore the discomfort in your stomach.

//-//

You know that you need to talk to Wanda. You don't understand why she is distant, and why she won't talk about her new relationship. And then you are at her window, shortly after she has come home. She frowns in surprise to see you, but she opens the window and makes room for you to come in.

- Is everything all right? - she asks, sitting down on the bed. You hesitate, standing in the window space.

- Is something happening, Wanda? - you ask. - You are hiding things from me. Have I done anything wrong?

Wanda looks away quickly, moving her hands nervously. And you run your hands through your hair.

- I'm sorry. - She says looking at the floor. - I... I didn't know how to tell you.

- You can tell me anything. - You assured, coming over and sitting next to her on the bed, while entwining your hand in hers.

Wanda smiled, looking up at you.

- I met someone. - She tells you, and you keep your face impassive, ignoring the uneasy feeling growing in your stomach. - And it's recent and all... but it' s good. Vis is sweet, and kind. And I think I'm falling in love with him.

You nod, forcing a smile out. 

- That's amazing, Wanda! - You hear yourself say it, as if it were true. 

And then Wanda hugs you, apologizing for not telling you sooner, and you say it's okay. And when you lie on her bed, and go to watch a TV show, you want to cry. You know what has been bothering you all week. The realization hits you fast and makes your heart soar. You are in love with her.

//-//

Things are going relatively well. It's been two weeks since you realized the real nature of your feelings, and you've been ignoring them just fine. And you've accepted every invitation to parties, dates, and even any walk to think about anything other than Wanda. And even the people who know you are amazed at how many girls you've seen in the last few days.

At this very moment, for example, there was a girl you met in French class giving you oral sex against the gym bleachers. You were trying to concentrate on the feeling, but every time you closed your eyes you kept seeing Wanda. And you didn't want to think about her. 

And then the bell rang, and that was the perfect excuse to leave.

//-//

You are very drunk. You think you should have stopped drinking at least ten drinks ago, but you're pouring another one in your mouth. 

And then Steve takes you home, because you are in no condition to be left at a party. And you swear to him that you are fine, and that you are going to bed.

And then you head toward the backyard of Wanda's house as Steve leaves.

There's no way you can get up to Wanda's room without falling off the roof, and your brilliant idea is to throw pebbles at her window. But then it is Pietro who sticks his head out of the window, and he laughs when he sees your state, and you frown. 

- You crazy fool, that' s the wrong window! - he tells you in a low tone, trying to avoid waking up his parents.

- Call Wanda for me! - You ask in the same tone, he laughs shaking his head before going back inside, closing the window.

You start to look around for more pebbles, but then Wanda comes out the back doors, wrapped in a silk robe and looking at you in annoyance.

- What happened to you? - she asks as soon as she reaches you. You are smiling at her because she looks so pretty. - I called you a million times.

- God, you are beautiful.

Wanda blinks in confusion, frowning.

- You're not even listening to me. - She retorts angrily, but keeps her voice down to keep it down. - How much did you drink? 

- I don't know, Mom. - You mock trying to keep your balance. The surroundings were spinning a bit.

- You are unbelievable. - she grumbled angrily. - What do you want anyway?

And then you're laughing, at what you don't know. And then you walk over to Wanda and hug her, but she doesn't respond. You rest your neck on her shoulders, while whispering in her ear:

- Don't tell Wanda, but I am in love with her.

And then Wanda pushes you away and takes two steps back, an expression of pure shock on her face. You stumble backwards and start to laugh, trying not to fall on the floor.

- What did you say? - she asks incredulously.

- Shush. It's a secret. - You say. - Don't tell anyone.

- You're joking. - She says, and you feel your head hurt. - You're lying.

Your drunken brain has one minute of lucidity when you understand what you have just done. 

- I am not lying. - You tell her with a smile. - I am in love with you.

Wanda denies it with her head, you don't understand why her eyes are filled with tears.

- You're drunk. - She retorts. - And you're being mean. I want you to leave.

You sigh, and stumble to your feet as you turn around, walking in the opposite direction of the yard. You're not thinking clearly, but you think you don't like this conversation.

//-//

When you wake up, your head aches a lot. So does your body, and then you realize that you have slept on the living room carpet. 

- Wow, that is sad. - Your younger sister comments when she comes downstairs to find you on the floor. - I would get up before Mom and Dad saw you like that.

- My sweet God in heaven! - Your mother screams after seeing you lying on the floor. You hear your sister giggle and say "too late". And then your mother is running to you and helping you up. But then she smells your clothes and makes an incredulous expression. - Did you really pass out drunk in my living room?

You are covering your face with your hands in an attempt to lessen your migraine, while your mother starts screaming that you are completely irresponsible, and that you were grounded for the rest of your life, but you're not really paying attention.

You want to understand why your last memory of the night is the image of Wanda's crying face.

- And don't think that you are going to miss school today! - You hear your mother screaming while you are in the kitchen. Your sister listens to the fight with a smile on her lips as she eats cereal. - Get upstairs right now and take a shower! I'm taking you to school today! If you have the audacity to drink so much, you will bear the consequences...

The voice grew more distant as you went up to your room. You looked in the bathroom for an aspirin before stepping into the shower.

//-//

Bruce Banner really wasn't happy when he found out that you had slept with his girlfriend. He approached you as soon as you entered the school, and you had too much of a headache to deal with it now.

- Look, here buddy, it's not my fault that you can't satisfy your girl. - You sneer angrily, and then Bruce advances on you, punching the locker behind you. But then Steve appears and pushes him away.

- Get out of here now, Banner. - He warns with an irritated posture. Bruce hesitates.

- Let's see how you like it when she sleeps with your girlfriend. - He retorts angrily before leaving. 

Steve changes his posture completely when he turns to you, and his eyes are tender.

- Everything okay there, Y/N? - He asks and you nod absentmindedly, you really weren't paying attention to Bruce, you wanted to talk to Wanda. - I guess Tony was right. - Steve comments in a wry tone as you walk down the hall together, many looks at you impressed by the confusion. - Banner really wasn't happy.

- I don't give a fucking shit. - You retort with irony. - Have you seen Wanda anywhere?

The boy shrugs his shoulders in denial, and you let out an impatient sigh. You two have English now, and you're going to try to concentrate in class for a while.

//-//

You finally find Wanda, but you have no chance to talk to her now. She is giving a speech in the school gym. The principal has asked her to present the bullying prevention project, and as the class speaker, she has been selected to open the presentation. This would certainly bring good points for the college.

The presentation took about forty minutes, and even though your gaze was glued on Wanda, she didn't look at you once. 

And then when the presentation was over, all the students were sent back to their classrooms, and you had to wait in hiding until only Wanda and the three audio-visual students were left in the gym.

You walked over to them, and Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, but she looked away quickly, hurrying to collect the papers that were probably the draft of her speech.

- Can we talk? - You said, and the audiovisual team present looked at you in surprise, but your attention was locked on Wanda. 

- I'm busy. - She replied, finishing picking up the papers and holding them tight against her chest.

- Why don't you tell me what's wrong?

Wanda looked away, but then one of the girls from the audiovisual team approached you with a smile.

- Hey, sorry to intrude. - She said in a mischievous tone of voice, and you blinked in surprise because you weren't even remembering the existence of the other people in the room. - When you're done talking to her, can we do something together?

You frowned, and before you could say no, Wanda let out an impatient sigh, and stormed out of the gym, bumping into you while mumbling "have fun". You were in shock for a few seconds, but by the time you ran after her, you had already lost sight of her.

//-//

Pietro was angry with you. But no one seemed willing to tell you what was going on. You were in the cafeteria, eating lunch at the same circular table as Tony, Steve and Pietro, and the Maximoff twin was treating you harshly.

- What's the matter, Pietro? - you asked mildly irritated when he gave you another judgmental look. But then he looked surprised.

- I don't really know.

You frowned.

- Excuse me?

Pietro let out a sigh and put the can of soda he was holding on the table.

- I don't know what you did. - He tells. - All I know is that Wanda is upset. And then so am I.

You raised your fingers to press them between your eyebrows, feeling a headache forming.

- I swear to God. - You complain. - I don't know what I did! She won't tell me!

- Damn it, don't look at me. I didn't even knew you two had fights! - He grumbles awkwardly. - When was the last time you were even angry with Wanda?

You laughed, tucking your hair back.

- Today I think. - You joked. - I don't really know, I never liked to fight with her.

- Then you must have really fucked up. - He remarks, and you let out a grumble, putting your arms on the table and sinking your head into them. - Maybe it has something to do with you coming over to the house drunk.

You raise your head quickly in surprise.

- What did you say?

Pietro blinks at you in confusion and lets out a short laugh.

- Girl, you showed up in our backyard, completely drunk at two o'clock in the morning. - Pietro tells. - You even went for the wrong window.

You let out a surprised exclamation.

- You're shitting me! 

Pietro laughed and denied it with his head.

- I don't know what you talked about, but when Wanda came back inside she was crying. - he says seriously. - She wouldn't tell me what it was, and I think that if I hadn't gotten up to get some water, she wouldn't have told me.

You let out a grumble and shoved your hands to your face, trying to remember. Too many flashbacks from last night came into your head. The party, the dancing, you in a triple kiss with Thor and Valkyrie, and a lot of drinking. And then you remembered the smell of Wanda's shampoo, and finally you knew.

You stood up abruptly from your chair, and Pietro looked at you in surprise, Tony and Steve who were talking next to you also looked at you and Steve asked if everything was okay, but you just nodded in shock at them and ran out of the cafeteria.

You needed to find Wanda, and clear everything up. She was too important to lose.

//-//

You look all over the school for her, and even after the bell rings, you don't go to class. You end up outside, on the soccer field.

And then you see her, sitting on the bleachers, looking straight ahead.

You smile, because she is in the same place where you met as children. As you walk up to her you remember:

“You were in the first grade, and you were playing hide and seek with the other kids at break time. And when you tried to sneak into the bleachers of the soccer field, you bumped into someone.

- I'm sorry. - you said, and looked at the girl in front of you. She frowned and looked down at her hands. You followed her eyes to notice the small kitten in her hands. - Wow, you brought your cat to school?

- I found him. - She answered, stroking the animal. - He was crying.

You moved closer to pet him too, and smiled when he began to purr.

- Maybe he's cold. - You said. - Where is his mother?

The girl shrugged.

- Do you want to help me find her? - She asked, and you smiled.

- Of course. - You agreed, offering to carry the animal, and the girl accepted. - My name is Y/N by the way. What is your name?

- Wanda.

You walked side by side out of the bleachers.”

You sat down next to Wanda, but she kept looking straight ahead. You bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of exactly what to say. 

- I guess I have to apologize to you. - You said, and Wanda let out a dry laugh.

- is that so?

- But I'm not sorry for anything.

Wanda blinks in confusion, and looks at you with a frown. You look at her seriously.

- I will not apologize for my feelings.

- I'm not going to do that. - She declares, getting up, and walking off the bleachers onto the field, you follow her.

- You're going to keep running then? - You shout. - I love you! I love you!

- Stop saying that! - She shouts back as she turns around. You notice the tears in her eyes. - Stop it!

You take a deep breath, and try to calm the nervousness that is coursing all over your body.

- Why is this so bad? - You ask almost hurt, and Wanda lets out a wry laugh.

- Because I know you! - she replies, holding back her tears. - I know you don't date anyone! You go out, and you have fun, and then you leave! And I can't do that! - she finally lets the tears flow. - Not when I've been in love with you all my life.

Wanda lets out a shaky sigh at the confession and you lose your breath. 

- W-what...

- I can't do this. - She says turning to leave, you rush to run and get in front of her, and she takes two steps backwards nervously.

- Please listen to me. - You asked with desperation in your voice. - I love you. I do, please, Wanda. 

Wanda shakes her head, covering her ears with her hands and closing her eyes. You sigh, and wipe your own eyes. You take a deep breath, and walk over to her, tenderly touching her wrists to pull her hands away from her ears. At first she is startled by your touch, but she allows it, but doesn't look at you. You swallow dryly.

- Wanda, I've always been in love with you. - You confess, and she looks up in confusion. - From the first moment I saw you, I loved you.

- You...

- I never thought I had a chance with someone as amazing as you. - You tell her with a sad smile. - And then I found ways to distract myself from it. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never meant for that to happen.

Wanda lets out a sigh, and buries her head in your neck as she hugs you. 

- Please don't hurt me. - She whispers against your skin. You press her against you.

- I promise.

You hold each other for long minutes, and then Wanda smiles against your neck. 

- Kiss me. - She asks softly, making your whole body shiver in anticipation. You smile as you pull away only to bring your faces together. Your lips meet in a quiet, soft kiss, and you both smile. 

You think you finally understand all the romantic songs in the world.

[maliby]

Dare | Johnny Suh (+18)

↬ Pairing: Johnny x F. Reader

↬ Story Genre: smut, fluff

↬ Warnings: mature language, explicit sex scene

↬ Word count: 5.6K

↬ Summary:  You and your friend Johnny have this ongoing string of wild dares. There’s just one thing: you’re never allowed to say no.

“Good morning class, today we’re going to start learning all about the matrix!” Your Algebra professor happily announced, completely unaware of the horror that swept over his students.

“Wait, is he talking about the movies?” Your friend Taeyong leaned in as soon as Professor Weaver turned his back to write on the board. The rest of the class groaned, having heard tales of horror from their seniors about the subject.

“No, you dufus! Remember last year when Taeil was having a mental breakdown?”

“Oh,” realization dawned over his beautiful face, his big eyes widening even more.

You had had a crush on Taeyong from the first moment you had seen him (just like everybody in your year), but that soon went away as you got to know him and found that you connected better as friends.

“Yup. Matrices…” You sighed in terror while you rested your chin on the palm of your hand. “Maybe Taeil has some notes he can give us-” At that moment, the phone in the back pocket of your jeans buzzed, breaking you out of your conversation. You fished the device from your pocket and looked at the shiny notification bar - it was a message from your roommate, Johnny Suh. 

You looked to your left where said roommate was, sat just a few tables from you, and felt a feeling of dread creep up on you at the sight of his stupid grin. You didn’t have to read the message, you already knew what he wanted.

“Is it Johnny?” Taeyong asked as his eyes followed yours straight to the roommate you both had in common.

“Yes…” you mumbled through gritted teeth, quickly placing your finger on your phone’s Touch ID to unlock it and read the message.

Heeere’s Johnny 🔪 (10:35 AM): dare u to scream “fuck” as loud as you can

“Motherfucker…” you muttered with your eyes closed.

“What did he dare you to do this time?” You turned your phone to him as you noticed him trying to take a peek at it. “Oh no…”

It all started this one night at a frat house party. Back then, you were still crushing over Taeyong and, in a game of truth or dare, Johnny dared you to pick your nose and eat your own booger. Of course, any sane person would have said ‘no’ but, the tequila shots you had downed half an hour earlier made you anything but that. After that, not only did you not look at Taeyong for 2 weeks straight, but also dared Johnny to pick his crush’s nose. You thought he would never agree to it, but as soon as you saw the deed being performed right in the middle of the cafeteria, you knew you had just entered a game with no end.

“Y/N, you can’t do this! You’ll be in trouble!” Taeyong tried to reason with you, already knowing his words would fall on deaf ears.

“More trouble than I was in when I had to write a love poem to Professor Stevens on one of the questions of the Calculus exam?” You flinched as you remembered the talk down you got when Professor Stevens thought you were trying to have sex with him to get a better grade.

“Yeah...that was bad. But still-”

The buzzing of your phone interrupted Taeyong. You looked down at it and read Johnny’s second message out loud to your friend.

Heeere’s Johnny 🔪 (10:38 AM): are u scared? 🐔

You looked back at the sender of the message and felt annoyance grow as you saw him flap his arms around like a chicken and laugh straight in your face.

5 seconds. That was how long it took for you to completely lose your cool, flip Johnny off and yell from the back of the class: “Fuck!” 

You were expecting a couple of things to happen, but nothing could prepare you for the general reaction you got: laughter. Everyone was laughing, from your classmates to your professor. Everyone except Johnny, that is.

“Don’t worry Miss Y/L/N,” Mr Weaver said from the front of the class, breaking your stare down with Johnny. “Matrices aren’t as scary as they seem,” Mr Weaver fondly smiled at you before turning back to the board to write something down, leaving you completely perplexed.

You looked back at Johnny who had his face in a frown and stuck your tongue out to him - it felt good to see his evil plans backfire.

“That was lucky,” Taeyong commented with a little chuckle.

“Tell me about it, feels like the Universe has finally compensated me for all the stupid shit Johnny has made me do.”

“You’ve made Johnny do some pretty stupid shit too.”

“Shhh,” you turned to your friend with your finger in front of your lips, making the universal gesture for silence. “Let’s not talk about that,” you patted him in the back and picked up your pen to start taking notes.

“I’m back!” You announced as put your keys on the glass bowl right by the entrance of your shared apartment. 

“Taeyong, they were all out of your favourite yoghurt.” You heard noise coming from the kitchen so you moved your way there, but as you went inside you crossed paths with Johnny who was just leaving the kitchen. He was on the phone, and by the expression on his face, you figured that something bad must have happened. 

“What happened?” You asked Taeyong who was leaning on the balcony eating the last of his yoghurt.

“I don’t know, it’s his mother.” 

“Oh no, are his parents fighting again?” 

Taeyong nodded as he licked his spoon and threw the yoghurt cup in the trash.

It was then that you both jumped up at the noise of the door slamming shut - Johnny had stormed out of the house.

Both you and Taeyong had called him loads of times but Johnny never answered, worry consuming you and your best friend. Eventually, you both decided to split up and go looking for him - Taeyong on his scooter and you on your bicycle. 

After half an hour of looking for Johnny in the most obvious places, you started to get desperate. You were starting to run low on ideas of where he could be, but as you passed by a bus stop and saw an ad for a sunscreen with a girl on the beach you suddenly remembered something: Johnny once had told you that when he was feeling down he liked to go to the beach and listen to the waves because it really calmed him down. 

“Why didn’t I think of that earlier?” You questioned yourself (earning a few weird looks from the people at the bus stop) before you changed directions and started to peddle your way to the beach.

The beach was mostly deserted (being that it was December and it was cold), but a brown-haired guy could be seen sitting alone in the sand. 

You parked your bike in the empty bicycle spot, locked it and walked straight to the lonely boy. As you got closer to him and confirmed his identity you couldn’t help but sigh in relief - he sure as hell didn’t look good mentally, but at least he was physically okay. You fished your phone from the pocket of your jacket and sent a quick text to Taeyong before sitting right down beside one of your best friends.

“It’s a little cold for a swim, don’t you think?”

He smiled at you, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“My parents are getting a divorce,” he deadpanned before looking back at the sea, your instant reaction being to hug him.

“I’m so sorry Johnny.”

“I begged them to just talk it over. I begged them to try but...they won’t.”

“Johnny…” you started in a warning tone. You wanted to tell him that his parents have the right to be happy, but you completely understood where he was coming from - nobody wants their parents to split up. You just wish you could take away this bad feeling from him.

“I know, I know…” he answered, picking up what you were about to tell him. “It’s just...hard.”

You studied his face for a while and noticed his eyes were puffy from crying and your heart completely broke. You and Johnny liked to tease each other a lot, but the truth was that you really cared about each other, more than you’d probably like to admit.

You placed your hand on his back and started rubbing soothing circles. He probably could barely feel them over his bulky black leather jacket, but you couldn’t help but do it. “We’re here for you. Me and Taeyong. You know that, don’t you?”

Johnny turned to look at you and for a brief moment, his eyes held an emotion you had never seen on him. Something you were sure you had misunderstood. Something that, weirdly, made your heart pound.

“I know.” 

Johnny kissed the top of your head and wrapped his long arm around you, snuggling you closer to him and his body heat. You placed your head on his shoulder and just sat there, hearing a mix of his breathing and the waves.

Suddenly your heart started pounding again - something about this felt way too intimate. Replaying the last few minutes in your head made you realize that all of this, somehow, felt like more than a friendship, and that, scared the crap out of you. 

Your own body acted on its own, and when you came to it, you were already backing away from him and saying something to deflect the situation.

“You know there’s a frat party tonight don’t you?”

“Y/N... I’m not in the mood.”

“Johnny Suh, you are going to that damn party, and you are going to have a good time!” You knew he was stubborn and that you probably had no chance of convincing him but then, something crossed your mind; something that would dead sure make him go. “...I dare you!”

He chuckled. “That’s a low blow, using the dares against me.”

“Isn’t that the purpose of a dare though?” You smiled mischievously, making him smile in return.

“Touché.”

“Woo-hoo! Look at you!” Taeyong whistled as soon as you left your room, all dolled up and ready to go party. “Who are you trying to bang?”

You sneakily took a peek at Johnny who was sitting on the couch and felt a shiver run up your spine as you saw his eyes completely locked on your form. “Mmm, no one,” you lied in a playful tone. 

The truth was you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that little moment with Johnny on the beach and, as you looked through all your clothes when deciding on what to wear, you couldn’t help but pick your most revealing dress with his reaction in mind.

“Yeah, I don’t believe you,” Taeyong said.

“Well tough luck! Now come on guys, the cab is waiting downstairs.”

When you were grabbing your bag to make your way out the door you felt a tall presence right behind you. He placed his big hand on the small of your back and whispered to your hair: “damn Y/N, didn’t know you cleaned up like that.”

You smiled to yourself and then turned to look at him. “Well, obviously you haven’t been paying attention.” You winked at him and turned back around, leaving to follow Taeyong to the cab while being fully aware of Johnny’s eyes on your back.

When both you and Johnny arrived downstairs, Taeyong had already sat in the front, making you both sit in the back.

The ride was a short one - only 10 to 15 minutes - but, nonetheless, it was full of tension. Taeyong was on his phone the whole time, and the driver kept quiet so, if it wasn’t for the radio the silence would be a deafening one. 

Both you and Johnny didn’t take out your phones, as it would be usual. He just leaned his head on the window and watched the city lights pass by, probably still thinking about his parents. You felt bad. You didn’t want him to feel this way. You wanted him to be his usual funny self and dare you to do stupid shit, but seeing him like this just broke your heart. 

You couldn’t help but stare at his side profile - he was handsome. Of course, you knew he was handsome, you were not blind, but this was the first time his handsomeness was affecting you. You couldn’t help but stare: stare at the way his styled hair brushed upon his eyes, stare at his straight nose and stare at his perky lips. 

Suddenly, an undeniable urge to lean in and kiss him emerged within you. An urge so immense that you caught yourself actually moving towards him, only to be stopped by him turning to look back at you with a charged expression. 

You shared a look for a few seconds. A look that made your insides tingle and your legs press harder against each other. What was happening to you?

Johnny’s hand was reaching over to yours, which was pressed on the seat between the both of you, and you could feel your heart start to beat faster. Suddenly, it felt like time had slowed down and all your focus was on that one hand. That hand that looked strong and delicate at the same time. That hand that looked like it had the power to not only be rough but also gentle. That hand that could grope you, touch you and fuck you so good until you cried for more. That hand that was so close that made you gasp in anticipation.

“We’re here,” the cab driver announced, breaking you from whatever spell Johnny had you on.

“Thanks. Keep the change.” Taeyong paid the driver and left the cab, immediately moving to open up your door.

“Milady,” he bowed, acting as your personal chauffeur.

“Why thank you,” you awkwardly bowed back, still feeling shaken up by the events of the car.

“Okay, let’s move!” Your group started walking towards the house as soon as Johnny joined both of you from the other side of the cab, Taeyong still completely unaware of what had just happened. “I promised Yuta we’d play beer pong with him.” 

“But Taeyong, you know I suck at beer pong!” You protested.

“I do. And that’s why you’re not on my team.”

“What?! That means I’m stuck with her!” Johnny whined from right next to you, making you turn and hit him in his chest, his hard pecks not going unnoticed by you.

“Hey!”

“Shut up Suh, you know as well as I do that you could use a drink,” Taeyong said before he spotted his friend near the entrance. “Yuta ma’ man! What’s up?”

“TY! I was beginning to wonder if you’ve gotten lost!”

“Sorry, Miss Y/N here took 3 hours to get ready,” he pointed back at you, making you hit him in his shoulder.

“Shut up Taeyong!”

“Come on man, did you get a good look at her? I’d wait an eternity if it meant I could look at an angel like her,” he winked at you before getting a sip out of his red plastic cup.

It was public knowledge that you and Yuta had fucked a couple of times. He was pretty hot, and the things he could make you feel with that tongue piercing of his were out of this fucking world. But tonight, you weren’t feeling him all that much - the tiny voice in your head telling you that that’s because you wanted to be railed by Johnny instead.

“Do you really think those cheesy lines are going to work?” Johnny asked out of nowhere with a hint of annoyance to his voice.

Johnny and Yuta were friends and him, more than anyone, knew that Yuta was a nice guy. Sure, he really liked to flirt, but he was also very respectful. So, his reaction made you wonder if he perhaps was feeling jealous. Secretly, you hoped he was. 

“It already did man,” Yuta winked at you once again, catching you a little off-guard. 

“Now, TY told me we’re not going to be on the same team for the beer pong. I’m usually a perfect gentleman, but I’m sorry angel, I can’t let you win.” Yuta came one step closer and picked up your hand and you swore you felt Johnny tense up beside you. “Maybe afterwards you could save me a dance?” He kissed the back of your hand and gave you a look that left little to no imagination of his true intentions - he wanted sex.

“Dream on, Nakamoto,” Johnny interrupted, coming right between you two and breaking your contact. “Stop stalling and let’s go.”

Johnny grabbed your arm and pulled you inside and away from Yuta and his advances. The look of bewilderment on your other roommate’s face didn’t go by unnoticed by you, but you forcibly chose to act like you hadn’t seen it. You didn’t know what it was, but you were liking this jealous side of Johnny and you were certainly curious for more.

“Alright, game on,” you heard Yuta comment before the loud music from inside overwhelmed you and your ears.

The game went on for a while. You lost, just as Taeyong had predicted. You didn’t mind, really. You just wanted to have a good time and the alcohol from the game was helping you do just that: you were currently in the middle of the dance floor dancing by yourself without a care in the world. You had lost your friends when you went to the bathroom and decided to go to the dancefloor when WAP started playing.

You were enjoying yourself. You were at that fine line where you were feeling the effects of the alcohol but you could still make your own decisions and you loved it.

Suddenly, as you were shaking your ass, you felt a pair of hands on your hips and a crotch on your ass. You wished it was Johnny, but as you opened your eyes and saw him sitting on a couch not far from you, you felt your fantasy crumbling. You turned around to see who you had just ground on and weren’t surprised when your eyes landed on Yuta.

“Hello angel, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really?” You tried to put a little distance between you, but Yuta just pulled you right back in, your bodies now in full contact with each other.

“The way you look tonight...you’re driving me fucking crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed in your ear, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. “All I wanted to do, was ditch Taeyong and the game and do that thing with my tongue that you like so much.”

Usually, that would be enough to make you lose your shit and pull him to the closest available bedroom, but tonight your mind was elsewhere. “Yuta...I’m sorry but tonight I’m not feeling it.”

His face fell in disappointment and he looked like a lost puppy, which partially made you feel bad for rejecting him, but you had to be honest. 

“You sure?” He asked you.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’m sorry then...”

He was about to let you go; you could feel his grip loosening when someone yanked him back and away from you, leaving you confused.

“Leave her alone Nakamoto,” Johnny’s voice sounded right from beside you, making your heart jump.

“What the-? What is wrong with you Johnny? Why are you acting so- Oh…” Yuta looked back at you and you could literally see him putting all the puzzle pieces together in his mind. “I get it now.”

“Get what?” Johnny asked.

“Nothing,” you intercepted Yuta before he could say anything. “Yuta, don’t you have to go meet up with that girl?” 

You made some weird faces at Yuta so he could understand what you were doing and, thankfully, he did. 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Have fun!” He winked at you and turned to leave, making you sigh in relief that that whole situation was over.

“That was weird,” your roommate commented. “Was he bothering you? I know he sometimes can be a little...persistent.”

You felt a warmth spread throughout your chest. You knew Yuta could never harm you, but the fact that Johnny was so worried about you made you swoon. Then a thought popped in your head that made the warm fuzzy feeling turn sour: was he worried because he liked you or just as a friend?

“No, it’s okay. He did nothing wrong. Thank you…”

“You’re welcome…”

The mood got awkward for a minute, with none of you saying a word until Johnny broke your shared silence. “I’m gonna go.”

“What?”

“Yeah...I’m sorry, I’m just not really feeling it.”

He looked mentally down and you felt bad for him. Johnny was always the one cracking up a joke - wherever there was laughter, he was always present. He loved to dance and to have a good time, and it broke you to see him like this.

“Hey, come on, dance with me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I’m really not feeling it…”

“Come oooon…” You didn’t know how you could convince him, but then an idea popped in your head. “I dare you.”

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of at least making him laugh. “Playing dirty again Y/N?”

“Well, you aren’t giving me much of a choice now are you Johnny?”

“I don’t know…”

Before he could continue you started imitating a chicken, just like he had done to you in the Algebra class and you couldn’t help but smile at his laughter once again.

“Alright, alright!”

“Yes!” You chanted in victory, promptly grabbing his hands and making him dance with you.

The dance started out friendly, with a few spins here and there, but it wasn’t long before tension started rising up and his hands were on your hips, just where Yuta’s had been. In your head, you couldn’t help but compare the feeling of the 2. Yuta had nice hands, that had certainly made you feel good before, but Johnny’s somehow felt better. His hands felt like he cared for you on a much deeper level. Like they could hold you and never let go. Like they could protect you from anything and completely destroy you at the same time.

As your inner voice went on an entire monologue about the wonder of Johnny’s hands, you found yourself looking him dead in the eyes. The way he was looking at you was making you think wild things, and with the buzz from the alcohol, you couldn’t help but want to act on those thoughts.

Without an ounce of self-control, you let your head move forward and your mouth whisper in his ear: “I dare you to grab my ass.”

Without a second of hesitation, his hands were on your ass and you were exhaling on his ear. The way his big hands were fully grabbing you and massaging you was turning you on so much that you could feel yourself get wet. You wanted nothing more than to have him lift up your dress and finger you in the middle of everyone.

Johnny moved his head near your neck and you thought for a second he was about to kiss you there, but you were surprised when he spoke in your ear. “I dare you to grind that sexy ass of yours on my cock.”

“Fuck.”

Just as he had done with your dare, you promptly complied, turning around and rubbing yourself on his semi. You both were walking on some dangerous paths, but you didn’t think any one of you could go back now.

As you moved your ass to the music and felt him grow harder and harder you couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to fuck him. You wanted him to end you. You wanted him to fill you up so good that he’d ruin any other man for you. You wanted his hands all over your body. You wanted him to grab your tits and play with your nipples. Fuck.

You reached your head back and whispered your next dare to him: “I dare you to play with my boobs.”

“Gladly.”

And then those big hands that were previously on your ass were now caressing your breasts and you felt like you were completely done. 

“Mmmh…” you moaned, not sure if he could hear you over the loud music.

The way he was pinching your nipples over your dress made you feel glad you decided on  not wearing a bra tonight. He was making you feel so good just with his fingers on your nipples and his clothed cock on your ass that your mind once again thought about what it would feel like to have the real deal.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

The dare had caught you off guard. You had been so in a trance by the grinding that your mind went straight to the fucking and skipped the kissing, but now that he had requested it you couldn’t stop thinking about it. So, consumed by desire, you turned around and glued your lips to his. 

You wrapped your right leg around his hip (his hand once again coming to the rescue and grabbing your thigh) and felt his cock rubbing you straight on your clit. The feeling was so pleasurable that you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, you had to have him now. So you pulled back from the kiss and plead for the last dare: “I dare you to fuck me.”

Johnny didn’t waste any more seconds, he grabbed you by your hand and lead you up the stairs to the first spare bedroom he could find. He then pushed you to the bed, making you fall right on the mattress.

“When I saw you with Yuta I went fucking crazy.”

The way he was towering over you and looking down on you as he confessed his feelings to you was slowly driving you mad. You never imagined you would be where you were right now, but now that you were you could confidently say that you wanted nothing more than this.

“I turned him down because of you,” you also confessed, now suddenly feeling shy and not being able to look him in the eye.

He chuckled.

Suddenly the mattress dipped between your legs as he joined you on the bed, right on top of you. 

“How the fuck did we end up here Y/N?” His fingers gently placed a misplaced lock of your hair behind your ear, catching your breath at his tenderness.

“I don’t know...but I think I don’t want to go back.”

“Good. ‘Cause me neither.”

His lips were back on yours and although the kiss felt different this time, it quickly evolved to something more. His hands ran down your body and went between your legs, his fingers rubbing you over your drenched panties.

“You’re so wet baby. Is this all from grinding against my cock?” His fingers slid under your underwear and easily entered you, making you moan.

“Fuck, yes. I can’t stop thinking about your cock, it’s driving me crazy. I want to fuck you so badly.”

“I want that too.” Something dark took over his eyes. Something that, in combination with his low and breathy voice was making your desire for him grow to even bigger levels. 

“Lately I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His free hand pulled down the upper part of your dress, exposing your breaths to his hungry mouth, as his other hand picked up its pace. “I lay awake at night just thinking about you: your smell, your hair, your smile, your eyes, your lips, your body…”

“Johnny…” you moaned his name as you felt that sweet pleasure building up from within you.

“Fuck, that sounded better than I imagined. Do that again, baby.”

Johnny’s other hand joined the one between your legs and began its assault on your little bundle of nerves, intensifying the amount of pleasure you were feeling. “Fuck Johnny, I can’t take it much longer…”

“Cum for me baby,” he instructed as he tried to alleviate himself by rubbing his cock against your leg.

“Ohshit-” you incoherently mumbled at the arrival of your orgasm, your walls spasming around his long fingers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Johnny mumbled against the skin of your belly as he pressed soothing kisses on it.

You smiled and took in a few more breaths so you could talk. 

“Since when are you this romantic Suh?” You asked as you finger-combed his now messy hair.

“Since always. I just only show it to special girls.”

You looked away, suddenly feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. Damn Johnny Suh and his smooth ass talking.

He chuckled before moving closer to your face and kissing you across your jaw. “Since when are you this shy Y/L/N?”

“Since-” You opened your mouth to answer him but came up short, ending up getting frustrated instead. “Shut up and take your clothes off!”

Your roommate laughed at your annoyance and immediately complied, removing his shirt and working on his pants. You couldn’t help but stare at his buff body: his bulging biceps, his washboard abs and his juicy pecks. You were so lost in desire that you didn’t even notice that Johnny was eyeing you up.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased, the stupid grin on his face driving you mad.

“Shut up,” you said once more, not enjoying the power he had over you.

“Take off your dress baby, I wanna see you too,” he requested as his hand caressed your naked thigh, sending shivers up your spine.

You obliged, quickly removing all your clothes and exposing your naked body to his hungry eyes.

Johnny didn’t say anything, but you could tell by the way his cock twitched that he was affected. So affected, in fact, that within seconds he was on top of you devouring your lips.

Both your hands wandered on each other’s body as he dry humped you between your legs.

“Do you have a condom?” You asked between ragged breaths.

“Fuck, no. But wait a minute,” Johnny reached for the bedside table and opened the first drawer, finding exactly what he was looking for. “Jackpot.”

“Did you know that was there?” 

“No, but I figured. After all, this is a frat house,” he explained as he opened up the package and rolled down the latex condom on his cock.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Fuck, yes. Just put it in.”

Johnny didn’t wait a second longer. He grabbed his cock, ran it up and down your slit a couple of times and slowly entered you, the feeling of fullness being completely indescribable.

“Oh Johnny, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, tell me when I can move.” Johnny was nuzzled up in your neck, leaving tiny love bites as you adjusted to his cock.

“You can go.”

He started moving slowly at first, a string of moans spilling out from both your mouths, but, soon after, his hips started thrusting faster and harder and you found yourself clawing at his back. 

“Shit,” he hissed before glueing his lips back on yours.

For a moment you both lay there on your own little pleasure bubble, just fucking and swirling your tongues together, with moans and cusses being spilt left and right as you enjoyed each others’ bodies. For a moment, nothing else mattered - just you and Johnny.

“Baby, you’re taking me so well. You are so perfect,” he confessed as he kissed you all over, his words almost making your heart jump out of your chest.

“Johnny, baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too, fuck.”

Johnny was drilling into you so hard that the sound of skin slapping on skin was drowning out the music coming from outside. You were almost there, and as you felt that sweet feeling building up in your core you took a chance to really look at Johnny: the way he bit his lip, the way his brows frowned in pleasure, his dishevelled locks and the way his veins popped on his arms as he held himself up so as not to crush you. He was so fucking hot you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it sooner.

“Johnny, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, beautiful. I’m right there.”

That was all you needed. Just like that, you were crashing and burning around the man you had considered as ‘just a friend’ for years, your walls milking him dry and making him spill everything inside the borrowed condom.

You didn’t move for several minutes. Johnny fell right to your side and just lay there right beside you, your chests rising and falling in tandem.

What do you say in these situations? What were you supposed to say right after one of your best friends, and roommate, fucked the shit out of you? You had no idea, but thankfully, he took the lead.

“I dare you to fuck me again.”

The dare caught you completely off-guard, just like yours had caught him and you couldn’t help but laugh. For a good minute, that’s all you both did: laugh.

“Alright,” you reached for the drawer and grabbed another condom from the owner of the room. “But this time, I’m on top.”

© maliby, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[petitfanboy]

Comprehensive and in-depth analysis of Asuka and Shinji relationship in 3.0+1.0, implications for the ending and why many youtube Eva analysis videos titles I believe are wrong. (Spoilers ahead)

Preface

It seems it was yesterday when I wrote an extended essay regarding the essential and critical relationship of Asuka and Shinji in Evangelion for the last time. However, seven years have passed. 

My idea here is to write, in general lines, about the relationship of Asuka and Shinji in the last movie and the ending and its implications in a more detailed way. I will use different analyses I have read so far besides mine, and you will find the links to all of them in the text. 

I have tried to maintain an analysis that followed the narrative plot and what I believe is closer to what the director wants to express. However, as Anno himself has said multiple times, his work may inspire different feelings in different people, so I understand where the differences might come from and, in no way, this is intended as a confrontation to other opinions and theories. 

Please, let me start with an introduction.

Introduction

While a lot has changed for me in these years, my view of A/S relationship in the whole Eva universe, including their dynamics, meaning, and canonical aspects have not changed. 

Long story short, A/S represent core aspects of the message Evangelion wants to transmit: The Hedgehog's dilemma, the fear of connecting and rejection while having a strong desire to be loved and understood, and finally, the pursuit of happiness. Asuka and Shinji are opposites on their outside and equals on their inside. A perfect match for exploring those issues.

RoE makes clear their similarities

Asuka and Shinji similarities

Evangelion arrives at a fulfilling conclusion at the end, showing us how it is possible to overcome the abovementioned problems. To depict that, it always involves resolving the different issues Asuka and Shinji have between them, becoming closer, opening to one another and, probably and eventually, staying together.

Evangelion portrays that resolution using scenes showing the exact moment of the change in A/S dynamics, the moment when both pursued real connection starts. What happens after that change is unknown, but the intention is clear: once they begin to make an effort, they have the chance to be happy together.

Before the release of 3.0+1.0, different spoilers and youtube video’s titles ruined my life, as I suppose that happened to some of you. It had such a significant impact on me that it is hard to define with words. Not because I was an angry asushin fanboy as some might classify me, but because, had it been confirmed, it would have meant that the message that Evangelion has been constructing since its first airing was shattered to pieces. I could not accept it.

At that specific moment, the Eva Extra Ex manga came and saved me.

Eva Extra Ex Manga Translated

I cannot highlight enough how important this manga was and still, it is. For me, it represented a call from Anno himself, saying: Do not worry, Evangelion is going to keep being Evangelion. I still recall the endless discussions on the internet when 3.0 came out about the effect of the time-skip, in what lousy state the relationship between Shinji and Asuka was (or if it was even inexistent!) and how Evangelion was going to transmit another message in the end. For me, there were always precise moments in 3.0 that pointed against those conclusions. But with Eva Extra, everything changed. It tied aspects of 2.0 and 3.0 very nicely and allowed us to discover more regarding Asuka's feelings and motivations.

With the first interaction in the manga between Asuka and Mari, we see that Asuka still has (deep) feelings for Shinji.  As the story progresses, we see how Asuka reacts to Mari's teasing and how unconvinced Mari is of all the bravado that she displays. A/S relationship, alongside their communication and hedgehog's dilemma related problems, still existed in the present timeline of the events of 3.0 and 3.0+1.0.

God's in his heaven all right with the world.

Chapter 1: The houses of healing

Instead of speaking of every Shinji/Asuka interaction scene, I will try to make this analysis lighter by talking about how it progresses across the film and focusing only on key scenes.

The film's first part explains how Shinji achieves healing after understanding how people around him are friendly, which is a big difference from EoE. In EoE, it was impossible. Shinji was left hurt and without any option to heal. He ultimately achieved healing through his experiences in instrumentality, leading to the ending and the hope/love message we all know in One More Final: I need you.

This process, this healing, happens in a precise location. That is the reason for the chapter's title. I took the liberty of naming this first chapter as the eighth chapter of Tolkien's book The Return of the King. But, what place is it?

Initially, Shinji is taken to Toji's house. While that place suits Rei, who will understand the basic meaning of life and being human, Shinji makes no progress there. Interestingly, Kensuke sees how Shinji is not making any progress and suggests he should go with him to his house. Why? It is driven by his new parental role, reminiscent of Kaji. He thinks why Shinji is in such a state and understand his needs at that moment. Besides, with or without knowing it, he reunites Shinji and Asuka under the same roof and the same parental figure.

I cannot say that he willingly wanted to reunite Shinji with Asuka, although I am sure he thought it was a direct consequence of carrying Shinji with him, so he was happy with that idea. As we know from 2.0 and the original series, their friends are the ones who notice Asuka and Shinji bond, so it would not be strange that Kensuke wanted to reunite both of them.

With or without Kensuke's will, bringing Shinji to Kensuke's house mirrors Misato's apartment, but with a male figure as the leader (i.e. A Kaji instead of Misato). It is a comeback to better times. Kensuke takes the parental figure for both Shinji and Asuka, as Misato did when Asuka moved in 2.0 for both children. This time, Asuka is the one who is already living there (previously it was Shinji), and Shinji is the one who arrives later.  In 3.0+1.0 Misato cannot fulfil her maternal role anymore, as explained later in the film (and redeemed at the end).

Let me linger on this parallel. In 2.0, when Asuka arrives at Misato's house and introduces Asuka to Shinji, we have the romantic comedy scene of the shower a few minutes later. The scene makes us understand that they feel some attraction to each other, albeit in a very early stage (and introduces PenPen to Asuka). Time forward, this first interaction is repeated in Kensuke's house. When Shinji arrives, he finds Asuka naked after having a shower. This time, no reaction is seen from either part explicitly. Neither Shinji nor Asuka blushed or overreacted, but Asuka clearly states her disappointment, which shows us her desire that Shinji reacted, that Shinji expressed attraction towards her. A significant line that adds up to all the previous evidence about Asuka's persistent feelings for Shinji. What about Shinji? There is a minor detail. When he sees Asuka naked, he stares at her with a glare that is just a mix of emotions. Although it is difficult to tell what he is thinking, Asuka is directly opposite him, and he can see both the DSS choker and her body. However, he only notices the choker when she wraps herself with a towel. Draw your conclusions.

From that point onwards, we get a few scenes representing the problem Asuka and Shinji have communicating and how alike they are. When Shinji throws up for the first time, Asuka explains to Kensuke why Shinji behaves like that and shuts himself off. However, she is doing the same, playing with her console. Asuka's video game is Shinji's SDAT.  Asuka hates the behaviour of Shinji because she sees her flaws in him.

Despite all the façade, she tries to communicate and help Shinji repeatedly in the coming scenes, checking on him on several occasions. Whenever she does that, the movie clearly shows us that she has abandoned her Shinji-like behaviour, showing us the console turned off.

Asuka and her videogame

The climax of their conflict is the force-feeding scene. But before analysing that scene, let me tell you a few more details.

I believe that the mirroring of Misato's apartment is portrayed through other details. For example, the name KenKen might have been chosen in honour of the missing companion from Misato's apartment: PenPen.

Furthermore, while some people might find odd the tendency of Asuka to be naked, this is driven by her disgust with her own body, which is shown in the Eva Extra manga. Finally, to enforce the idea that the relationship between Kensuke and Asuka is different from the one that she and Shinji have, it is essential to notice how Kensuke calls them. He calls them by their surnames, Shikiname and Ikari, placing distance between them.

Let's return to the force-feeding scene. In that scene, Asuka wants to help him, which is why she feeds him, and at the same time, she explains her frustration regarding the lack of reaction and understanding on his part. The conflict between them is portrayed similarly to the Eva 03 incident in 2.0

Visual comparison 1

Visual comparison 2

She is trying to understand him, and she tells him rather precisely why she thinks he is in such a state. She only wants him to reciprocate that understanding, and she wants him to think and explain why she punched him after seeing each other after 14 years. I must highlight the punch's importance. It summarises their communication problems, their conflict. Eva clarifies it in 3.0 using the same parallelisms as other communication problems, like Gendo and Shinji.

However, we know how she feels. The Eva extra manga gives us that insight. She has feelings for Shinji but hates his inaction due to his internal struggles. The hedgehog's spikes have been replaced by a punch. If they can talk about the punch, they will start communicating.

From an external view, Shinji reacts to being force-fed in a way that probably is not what Asuka wanted. Shinji leaves the house, followed secretly by Asuka, in another display of how Asuka feels internally.  It is another parallelism with Misato's apartment, again with a reversal of roles between Shinji and Asuka.

Parallelism

However, we will learn in future events that Shinji started to think about what Asuka told him at that moment, so he listened to her.From this point onwards, Shinji will deal with his thoughts and come to an understanding with himself. It is not achieved alone, but with the help of Rei and, although not directly, Asuka. She is the one who directs Rei to the place where Shinji is and continues checking on him to see that everything is going fine. She is there.

Asuka cares

When Shinji grows up and maturates, we have the first bidirectional communication attempt between Asuka and Shinji. While she asks Shinji if he feels better, he responds with only sounds. Yet, this is the first time they have tried to talk about their respective problems and emotions calmly. We will see this pattern repeat itself several times in the movie: Shinji grows a bit, and then Asuka opens herself another bit. It is very interesting to see Asuka's glare. Asuka is drawn with that glare whenever she is looking at Shinji in a positive/concerning him way. We will return to that later. Besides, she speaks to him without looking at her console.

All this healing process ends in a sentence that is easily overlooked. The night Kensuke is discussing with Asuka the plans to return to the Wunder, Shinji comes home and says, "I am home". It is the reflection of Shinji's complete healing. Thanks to his growth, he has found a new place where he belongs once more. It let us understand why he will consider that this place is important for Asuka too. Both have suffered the same parental love deprivation, lacking a place where they truly belong. Finding a place that they can call home is part of their way to happiness and usually happens before both connect.

The film also let us see how Shinji heals, comparing it with the healing of one of the village's dogs

Now, Shinji is ready to go with Asuka to the Wunder and start a transformative journey for himself and those around him. But first, let me post a few more details, some of which I had not noticed until doing some research on the internet:

Visual comparisons that highlight the similar role of Kensuke as Kaji (Parental role)

2. Asuka's scarf to hide her DSS choker.

3. The possible futon share between Asuka and Shinji, showing how she cares about him.

Chapter 2: A trip in the Wunder

The most relevant scene for their relationship in the Wunder is Asuka's confession. However, there are a couple of interesting interactions before that. The first one is the display of Asuka's jealousy of Sakura when she sees her interaction with Shinji, saying, "Are you his wife?"

The second one happens when Asuka meets Mari. While loaded with fanservice, this interaction is not trivial. Mari's teasing is an essential element in the Rebuild series, even more knowing how important the character of Mari will become at the end. She seems to be aware of Asuka's real feelings, and we know from the Eva extra manga that she tries to push Shinji and Asuka together, which I will come back to later. Asuka replies to Mari's teasing that Shinji "does not need a lover, he needs a mother". This sentence is a double edge sword. First, it shows Asuka's interest in Shinji as a romantic partner, given her deception, and actually, Asuka is saying this sentence while she is playing the videogame, so probably she is hiding her feelings, shutting herself oof the world as Shinji used to do. Second, it shows the problems they face: Communication and maturity. Maturity, because Asuka feels that Shinji has not changed as she has had, and communication, because as we will soon know, Asuka also wants that figure in her life. However, it is not true that Shinji has not grown up. It is just that they have not tried to communicate again, and thus, she does not know about Shinji's recent developments

Everything will change when Asuka faces the reality of possible death. Before the "final battle", she decides to reach out for Shinji. After Mari introduces herself to Shinji in an awkward way that will be important in the ending, Asuka repeats her question. In reality, she asks if he has thought about her, how she feels and everything she has gone through. To Asuka's surprise, Shinji answers the question, blaming his inaction. Taking this as a partial sign of maturity and growth, Asuka starts opening herself, although not wholly, a sign that Shinji's answer might not have been entirely correct. Besides, her body language is similar to the previous lift scenes in Evangelion, where we know she hid her real emotions.

She will equal what to tell Shinji to Shinji's growth. Therefore, she explains to him how she liked him 14 years ago, but not how she feels now. Furthermore, she leaves before Shinji can reply to her statement, leaving Shinji staring back at her through the glass. So, it is Mari again who makes us understand that this has been a sign of communication that goes in the right direction. She congratulates Shinji and stimulates him to continue like this. Again, Mari is trying to solve Asuka and Shinji's problems. Mari says goodbye in Chinese to Shinji (perhaps, a way to tell us that the spell of goodbye works, as they meet again later) and goes to do the same with Asuka, asking her if she feels better. Mari is trying to make Asuka see that opening herself to Shinji will bring happiness to her too.

Nevertheless, we must not forget that the short confession happened because Asuka thought this might have been the end. In a sense, it almost was.

Chapter 3: I need you

This chapter starts after Shinji and Gendo have resolved their issues. As I explained before, the need of resolving their parental matters will be critical to both Shinji and Asuka. The same happened in EoE. Asuka gets to know her mother in her battle against the mass-produced Eva, and Shinji learns about his father's plans and mother during instrumentality. After those experiences and their other interactions through instrumentality, they arrive at the I need you scene where they open to each other.

Gendo gets off the train, and the control of instrumentality is handed over to Kaworu. While Gendo was willing to sacrifice everything for his sake, the growth of Shinji reaches its maximum at this point. Shinji decides to take the reversal role of his father. Even if he is heartbroken or it is a hard and not a pleasant experience, he wants to help Asuka and those who were nice to him. This is the transformative journey that Shinji accomplishes in RoE that marks a completely different path from NGE+EoE.

I worded the sentence highlighting Asuka because those are the literal words of Shinji, naming Asuka as an individual and using the Japanese word "minna" for the rest, which could be the rest of his friends or even the rest of humanity. Shinji has learnt that he must give without seeking anything in return. He must stop thinking about himself only. He is going to help their friends without any positive repercussions on himself. As he later will explain, he plans to rewrite the world with the new spear given by Misato to get rid of the Evas and what they represent, stopping the cycle of suffering that comes with them, and let their friends live a happy life.

Symbolism of the spear

Interestingly, he does not explain this to Asuka and only mentions it to Rei, with some hesitation, which is what prompts him to tell her that Mari would come for him eventually. That behaviour is because for getting rid of the Eva and rewriting the world, he needs to impale himself with the spear inside Eva 01. While we do not know for sure the effects on Shinji, the way it is portrayed resembles a willing sacrifice, a person opening himself to that terrible outcome for a better benefit for their friends. Besides, we must not forget that the sync rate of Shinji with his Eva was infinite at that time, so probably the expected outcome would be the death of the pilot and he knew about that.

This situation is what gives us an essential context for understanding Shinji's actions. As Asuka earlier, he also thought that he might not return. But let’s see what happens with Asuka and Shinji.

The first to be saved is Asuka. As some sort of guardian for Asuka (and Shinji, and even Asuka/Shinji relationship), Mari reminds Shinji before he leaves her entry plug in the anti-universe that he has to find her. And he does.

There are many iconic and meaningful landscapes in Evangelion. Still, none of them has the symbolism, meaning, emotional associations and beauty as the beach where Shinji and Asuka laid at the EoE has. Although it is not the same beach and there are different details, the scene's meaning is clear. It was the scenario of One More Final: I need you. Thus, the location evokes that meaning, where Shinji and Asuka connected and expressed their emotions and feelings in EoE. To increase and highlight that intention, the first shot we have of the landscape is a full white moon, a remnant from the N3I. The moon has always been a poetic figure for love, and it brightens the sand creating the white beach. It is the perfect scenario to share an intimate moment.

Then, a saved, Eva curse-free Asuka awakes. The first sentence references the fact that the curse of Eva is lifted, and she can sleep. As some people detail, the plugsuit is a combination of different ones. This phenomenon will repeatedly happen in the anti-universe. Long story short, as I do not want to enter the terrain of the time loops and different universes, I believe that the idea behind that symbolism is that Evangelion is a multiverse. The anti-universe might somehow connect them, and we can see them. However, the characters remain the same from the universe where they come from. Only those annotated in the book of life remember those other universes or RoE time-loops (which seem to affect only the RoE universe and seem not to be confirmed in the other universes), and probably, as Shinji is in charge of the flow of events, the bleeding in his memories is what drives those changes.

The fact that Asuka wears a plugsuit that is a combination of previous ones, does not mean that she is Soryu or several Asukas at the same time. She is Shikinami, and it is the first time that she is on that beach. Her background and memories are from the RoE timeline, as she does not express, as Shinji will do later, any perception of that phenomenon. The same goes for their location. While they are on a similar beach, it is not the same where Soryu and Shinji found themselves in EoE. It is probably the bleeding of details between universes that wraps the metanarrative message that gives importance to the scenery (that beach is where they connected and accepted each other both in EoE and in this movie, and the place will always symbolise that)

Even those aware of other timelines (Kaworu and Shinji at that point) can only remember that they met before or have a déjà vu feeling. They do not have a complete insight into what happened. I think that this bleeding of details gives an important message: All the universes of Evangelion exist. Soryu and Shinji's story from NGE and EOE has happened, albeit in another universe, part of a larger multiverse. In a sense, it is saying that NGE+EoE is as canon as RoE, something essential to maintain coherency. The difference is that they happen in different physical planes of space and time.

Let's return to the fact that a grown Asuka is on the beach. The camera plays, repeating the same shots as in EoE, linking both scenes thematically again. Moreover, the visual links expands to other couples in Eva.

Here, Shinji sits next to Asuka, with his arms around his legs and a completely different gaze, making clear Shinji is happy to see her. The events follow this path:

Asuka sees Shinji next to her and calls him "Baka Shinji" in a not mean way. A way that shows us that despite calling him "Baka Shinji" time and time again, that did not mean that she truly hated him.

Shinji verbalises his happiness to see her again and says thanks to her for letting him know her feelings previously.

Shinji reciprocates the same feelings, using the past tense. Why? Well, at least this time is more straightforward than explaining why he choked her.  Shinji has several reasons for this: First, it directly answers what Asuka told him earlier. And second, he wants to save and return her to the Eva free world, and thus, knowing that he might not return, hides his current feelings.

Asuka is surprised that her feelings are reciprocated. She blushes and turns to her left, hiding her real feelings at that moment to Shinji. In the next shot, we see a happy, blushed Asuka smiling.

The reaction of Asuka and all the previous evidence from the movie and the manga make it evident that she still has feelings for him. With his body language, Shinji is also transmitting to us that he is hiding his true feelings. Besides, a past tense confession for Shinji makes no sense at all. Shinji has been sleeping those 14 years. For him, those moments where "he liked" Asuka are only a few weeks or months ago from this moment on the beach.  We will get the last evidence that Shinji still has feelings for Asuka, thanks to Kaworu. He, who is aware of all the timelines and universes, asks Shinji if he will feel lonely letting Asuka go. Shinji, with the same body language and a sad face, says no. We must link Shinji's behaviour to the fact I explained earlier. Shinji wanted to sacrifice himself for the happiness of Asuka and everybody.

This links with another idea. The scene is fast-paced. Once Shinji confesses his feelings, he says goodbye to Asuka and the Kensuke sentence. While this might be a reminiscence of Asuka's behaviour in the Wunder, allowing him to avoid any reply, that would have made things more difficult. However, his words are carefully chosen. We know from Rei's experiences in the village that "goodbye, is a spell of magic to see each other again. Despite his plans, Shinji's wish is to see her again

The meaning of goodbye

Then we have the Kensuke sentence. I wanted to talk about this in a simple way. Asuka needed the same parental role as Shinji, and through her experiences in instrumentality, she finds that she has that part of herself fulfilled by Kensuke. However, things get complicated if we start to notice some details. The fact that Kensuke calls Asuka "Asuka" instead of Shikinami and that the doll with Kensuke inside of it appears in the Rei scene has raised concerns that the Kensuke who appears in Asuka's instrumentality scenes is in fact Shinji, helping Asuka to find her place in a future world without him. In more detail:

All Asuka's scenes in instrumentality revolve around Shinji, nothing from Kensuke. It seems that Shinji wants to revert that and makes her conscious that she can find a place to belong and the parental role she needs, especially taking into consideration that he was about to die.

Instrumentality scenes comparison

She verbalises that she has no place to belong yet (despite living with Kensuke for some time), so Shinji wants to clarify that point for her.

It answers why Kensuke calls her Asuka and not Shikinami and why the doll appears again in Rei's scenes on the stage. Furthermore, it connects Asuka's memories with the beach scene, as it is after Kensuke says, "Asuka is Asuka" that she wakes up next to Shinji.

The original source of the theory for me was this video

In the end, from Asuka's instrumentality to the end of the beach scene, Shinji wants her to understand that she has a place to belong alongside the parental figure that she needs and that she is also loved by him, although he is going to let her go for her benefit. A true act of selflessness given his feelings. That is heart-warming and an actual act of love on his part.

Then, something happens amid the fast-paced scenes. The camera shows Asuka with an open mouth, sleeping(?) and Mari next to her. Wait. When did Mari come in? Why? I am not sure of the answers to these questions. It shows that Mari is more than we thought and has more knowledge about the anti-universe and what is happening. We do not know if this scene happens just after Shinji’s words or something has happened in the middle, as Asuka's expression seems not to match the last we see from her. Is there a deleted scene in the middle? Mari says her goodbye to Asuka. Mari has been a bridge between Shinji and Asuka and a close friend to her. In some sense, and continuing the parallelisms between Shinji and Asuka, she has been her Kaworu

Interestingly, Mari only appears to say bye to Asuka and not Rei or Kaworu. At the same time, Shinji only says sayonara to Asuka, the only character that does not have a handshake and a shutter closed. While there is no definitive answer to this fact, I believe it is crucial regarding the ending, as it will establish a continuity between the goodbyes and future gatherings, all directed by Mari, and that is why she appears probably (and she might be the one ejecting Asuka’s entry plug)

After Mari's take care, Asuka wakes up in the entry plug and is ejected by Unit 13. It is important to note that Asuka leaves without any kind of voluntary movement. She awakes in different locations and is the Eva 13 who ejects her. We do not know Asuka’s opinion about this at any time, or how she feels about being saved leaving Shinji behind.

Chapter 4: The sacrifice is stopped

After Kaworu and Rei's scenes, which I am not going to talk about, Shinji decides to carry out the Neon Genesis. We get to the moment where he is ready to sacrifice himself, in some sort of redemption of humanity's sins for creating the Evas and all the suffering that accompanied them. But then, Yui appears.

She stops the spear, protecting Shinji, and takes him out of the Eva 01. Yui’s wish is that he can live in that Neon Genesis world where the Evangelions do not exist, where people, and Shinji, can be happy. This moment changes everything. The plot twist will allow Shinji and Evangelion to have a happy and hopeful ending, thanks to Yui's (+/- Mari) plan.

The sacrifice of Shinji's parents for the sake of their child redeems them from the emotional deprivation Shinji has endured all his life. Shinji, mimicking the last instrumentality scene in EoE, returns to the anti-universe, now alone.

Chapter 5: Mari to the rescue

Shinji waits patiently on a blue water beach. Slowly, he starts to fade away in the anti-universe, as there are no others to relate with. This concept was explored both in EoE and at the end of the TV series. Then, Mari comes with her Evangelion to rescue him and take him back to the real world, now the Eva-free world, as promised to Misato. This is very important, as it highlights that Shinji is not going to a parallel universe. He is returning to the same world where his friends are (Asuka for sure, Kaworu will meet him again too, and Rei, honestly, it is not so obvious where she decides to go in her scenes, but probably too)

Mari's last Evangelion is important too. Contrary to Kaworu and Rei, I believe it is how Mari and Shinji returned to the ordinary world (probably with its entry plug, like Asuka). We might never know that. Then, the next scene is the opposite scene from Asuka in the entry plug, but with Shinji. Now we see an adult Shinji in a train station.

There are different questions to answer to understand what is happening in the ending. However, I think that the film's conclusion is the same regardless of the answer to those questions.The questions are:

Is the train scene set in the AU or in the real world?

Are Mari and Shinji the people we see coming out from the station?

Did Asuka arrive at Kensuke’s house or is she present there if that is the real world?

I tried to sum up the different theories in simple pictures.

 My personal opinion just after watching the movie was that the first scenario was the most likely. However, after seeing different analyses, I am not 100% convinced and I cannot give my support to other theoriesyet. 

The sources for the other theories are these

And the fact that the pilots might be illusions come from here 

As you can see, regardless of the answer to the questions from above, they always end up meeting again. While this is not explicitly shown in the movie, I strongly believe it is the reason why Mari appears at the end scene. Mari is the beacon light that will guide him in this new world, and there is a lot of visual comparisons that prove this fact, comparing Mari to Misato, and knowing the role of Mari in Gendo and Yui’s life. Furthermore, a lot of people consider that the fact that Asuka is alone in the platform is a sign that she is there to be reunited with Shinji, as she has no partner and seems to be playing with something like her old videogame. All of this is enough evidence to stop thinking about this ending as “Shinji choosing Mari to live a happier life” or “to let go the past”.

Comparison

The role of Mari in Yui/Gendo life. A hint in her possible role with Asuka/Shinji

Mari and Shinji, Mari and Gendo, the same fate.

I am sure that Mari will reunite Asuka and Shinji. She has been a bridge between them since 3.0, and the Eva Extra manga gives more insight into that respect. Besides, she did the same with Yui and Gendo, and there are a lot of comparisons between Yui/Gendo and Asuka/Shinji in a visual way throughout the series.You will find Asuka glancing at Shinji with the same face and eyes expression as Yui did. 

We have talked about this before. 

While it would be interesting to know exactly how Shinji arrives there, the narrative conclusion that they will meet again, independently of what has happened to the world, will not change. This resonates with the title of the movie "thrice upon a time", as evidenced here. 

There have been multiple Evangelion universes, both with and without Evas (EoE ends with a world without Evas, as the manga does) and in all of them, all of them, Asuka and Shinji meet again. And this is really important, as now they can communicate and have the chance of growing together and be happy.

Conclusion

Asuka and Shinji are two sides of the same coin, with different defence strategies in the context of the hedgehog's dilemma. Despite their mutual attraction, they are incapable of communicating and reaching each other. In EoE, it took almost the end of the world and humanity to understand that it is thanks to not living with the fear of pain and rejection that we can understand and accept others, ultimately overcoming the hedgehog's dilemma. This is expressed by the caress of Asuka to Shinji in EoE. This loving gesture shows us that the characters start understanding each other and have the chance to be happy together. EoE ending is a message of love and hope.

A/S relationship will represent this conflict wherever they are portrayed, in a cycle of desire/attraction, which leads to conflict and a resolution with understanding and love once they learn to accept each other and start communicating. In EoE is quite visual and displays both of them together at the very end. The manga is less explicit and more hinted at, but the scene at the train depicts how they connect in that new world where they will understand each other.

Thrice upon a time is not an exception to this rule. The last scene of EoE and the manga that involves Asuka and Shinji is the moment they connect, communicate, and change the way they treat each other. In 3.0+1.0 their final scene together is the beach scene, where they confess their mutual feelings in what is a never seen before sincerity and openness between them. Then, a world without Eva is created (in EoE this is exemplified by the crucified Eva and in the manga is more similar to the movie) and we know that Mari will guide Shinji to a safe return to that Eva free world and a gathering with Asuka and his friends. Despite not appearing on screen, all the narrative of the movie, and the whole of Evangelion, makes us understand that they will understand each other more and more and will be more honest towards their feelings, giving them the chance of being happy. As a consequence of that, the leitmotif of Evangelion is repeated once more.

The message of 3.0+1.0 is not about letting go of the past because you have grown up or let it go to move forward. The message is that it is thanks to going through those good and bad experiences that life gifts us, accepting the chance of suffering pain, that we can mature and learn. This learning will make us understand ourselves and those who surround us more, making us love ourselves and others, having, ultimately, the chance of being happy, loved and finding a place to belong to.

And it is in the middle of this struggle, that the love story of Asuka and Shinji shines, reminding us that humans can connect and be happy. 

If they can overcome their problems, so will us.

Everybody finds love in the end.

One More Conclusion: Where is Anno's wife?

What a ride! I think I have written about almost all of Shinji and Asuka's interactions, perhaps leaving just a few ones at the beginning of the movie, and without the mention of Anno as Shinji or his wife as Mari in all the essay! While extremely popular, the theory that Mari represents his wife has many flaws and I still do not understand where it is based. From the character being designed without the supervision of Hideaki Anno to the direct denial from his wife, including that the theory does not match the narrative plot. While self-insertions and story developments related to personal experiences are not rare in storytelling, we cannot explain everything in Evangelion by metanalysis. While Anno's struggles with depression have shaped NGE+EoE, the development and growth of the characters in their own arcs are what matter when analysing them. Shinji might be inspired by his awful experience at that time, but as we said earlier, Asuke is shaped like Shinji, albeit with different behaviour. Therefore, we should accept that both of them are depictions of Anno and not only the masculine figure.

In the end, it is Shinji who rejects instrumentality, returns to the real world and is caressed by Asuka in EoE. The characters do that, not Anno. The same happens in this last scene. While the location of the train station and city is totally related to the director, what is going to happen to the characters in the context of the plot is an important thing to consider when analysing them.

From NGE+EoE to this last movie Shinji grows and understands the path to be happy always.  This is not exclusive of the RoE saga because Anno has overcome his problems. Therefore, conclusions such as "now Anno is happier, so he wants Shinji to be happy" are not supported. What changed in RoE is that the growth of Shinji happens prior to the last impact and instrumentality, instead of growing after those experiences. This allows the portrayal of a lighter version of Shinji in those dramatic moments, resembling more a traditional hero who saves his friends, instead of letting them down and then coming to an understanding all together (because everyone shares a slice of the guilt cake) in instrumentality.

I believe that it would be more fruitful if we took into consideration his wife's work in the way that this tweet states, rather than engage ourselves in discussions about meta self-insertions.

I hope my words have helped those who felt like me after the release of the movie.

Thank you very much for all your time reading this.

[ateezmakemeweep]

broken (part 2).

san x reader

word count: 12k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of domestic abuse and rape)

(part 1)

no matter how many times you tried to change your thinking patterns, you still classified your life into two parts: before the abuse and after.

you thought, after watching your ex-boyfriend being escorted out of the courtroom with a one-year prison sentence, that you wouldn’t be scared of him anymore.

you thought that moving out of the house and living in your new apartment would make day to day life easier, not needing to see the floor you were beaten on or counter you were forced to have sex on every day.

you thought that having san would make you feel happy and loved and enough. that having a whole new family unit consisting of seven other crazy boys and a crotchety old lady would be enough.

but as you sit curled up on the bathroom floor with tears in your eyes, you’re seeing you severely underestimated everything. 

underestimated just how much trauma you still had to sort through and how badly that asshole really did mess you up.

six months ago:

“so we have the surveillance footage and witness testimony from your neighbors,” your lawyer explains gently, an older woman with kind eyes and soft-spoken voice that quickly transforms in the courtroom. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

the harshest sentence being one year, a measly 365 days compared to the 1,825 he subjected you to every kind of abuse: sexual, emotional, mental, physical. 

hitting and grabbing and slapping until your skin was littered with bruises and cuts. 

talking so harshly to you that you believed dying was the best option, stripping you from any sort of confidence or self-esteem you once had. 

making you feel completely inept and useless, solely viewing you as a piece of property he could boss around and use at his disposal. 

you had left the office with shaking hands and a pounding heart, barely being able to dial san’s number before he answered after one ring. 

this was the first appointment you’ve went to without him, insisting he can’t and won’t miss his midterm for this. 

“hi, love. everything go okay?” he asks softly, with the sweet gentle voice that has quite literally kept you alive these past few months. 

you don’t know what you did in another life to deserve san but you know that without him, you probably wouldn’t have made it this far. without his constant support and sweet reassurances, you wouldn’t have believed you could ever do this. 

willingly tell police officers and lawyers about what happened to you, break down and expose yourself in such a way that always made you feel weak and pathetic. 

admit aloud that, yes, you’ve been a victim of abuse and no, those bruises and scars on your body aren’t from clumsy falls into the wall or cabinet. 

without him, accompanying you to the police station or lawyer’s office, where you knew jungkook was lingering, you would’ve never felt safe. 

you would’ve broke down and took it all back, told them that you made it all up and to release him because he didn’t do anything wrong.

but he did so much wrong and you and san know that. the police and lawyers and judges know it too, several outbursts from the man in court and at the station proving that. 

it’s what makes the thought of a personal statement so hard, having to look your ex-boyfriend in the face and watch him stare you down with not an ounce of remorse or sorrow.

san must know it too, if your silence through the phone tells him anything, and you can already hear shuffling in the background as he prepares to leave his class and head to your apartment.   

“are you done with your test?” you ask first, voice sweet but mousy in a way that makes san’s stomach sink

he knew today was gonna be rough for you, he knew he should’ve asked his professor to retake the midterm next week. 

“yes,” the boy answers immediately, knowing he’s about to run back into the classroom, circle c for the last three answers and haul ass to his car. 

“san, are you-”

“i was done, it’s fine, y/n,” he confirms gently, feet moving and body desperate to rush toward your apartment. 

because he knows after all of this time, you’ve learned to hold back your pain and suffering. years of practice and keeping tears at bay that he’s noticed have made these months difficult for you two. 

and he hates knowing that you still wait till you’re alone to cry. 

that even though every time you do, he wipes away every tear and holds you to his chest until you fall asleep, you still feel most comfortable being sad alone.

that you’re probably already home now, about to bury your face in a pillow and sob until you hear his car and wipe your cheeks clean like nothing is wrong. 

but there’s a lot wrong. 

a lot wrong with how you’ve been treated and how hard it is to move past it. 

a lot wrong with the legal system that makes this painful journey even more exhausting, forcing you to recount memory after memory and answer question after question about the worst ordeals of your life. 

that’s why san can’t help but turn in his test and rush out the door to his car, speeding off campus and onto the highway in hot pursuit of your apartment above the bakery.

it had seemed like perfect little place to get you back on your feet, the smell of freshly baked bread and pleasant bustle of regulars greeting you in the early morning hours. 

there was no commute for you, just a walk down the stairs and through the yellow door of the bakery, where simple work waited for you. 

“you just need to ring up the customers and maybe clean a table or two. most people take their things to go,” your boss had told you, a divorced mother of three who spent most of her life baking before she was finally able to open up a place of her own. 

it was simple work but it was more than you’d done in years, something as little as small talk with regulars successfully draining you. filling you with a nervousness and fear that you’re still feeling even without your ex’s presence. 

but it’s in the way a man yells on the phone about a business deal going sour while waiting for his morning coffee. 

a woman chastising her kids saying that they won’t get to eat the cookies she’s buying after dinner. 

the slam of the door when a harsh gust of wind howls from outside and rattles the small bakery with light blue walls and pictures of bread and desserts.

you don’t know how many coffees you’ve spilt or plates you’ve broken from jumping at the harsh sounds, realizing little by little how hard this transition was gonna be. 

even with san and his friends and your boss and the crazy old lady who secured this new life for you in the first place, it’s still hard. 

you can’t even imagine doing all of these new things alone, just living in such a simple way that the average person takes for granted. 

but you suppose it’s not all simple yet, going back and forth between meetings with your lawyer and the police for the court date that’s rapidly approaching. 

you can feel that the closer it comes, the harder it is to breathe. 

the mere thought of seeing the man who hurt you for the longest five years of your life, sitting in front of you with not an ounce of remorse on his face. making  this process even harder because how are you supposed to talk in front of him? 

see clear as day that you’re not safe and you never will be. 

that he’s gonna get out in a year, because that’s the harshest sentence possible without you being hospitalized or dead, and hurt you again. he’s never gonna stop hurting you because he always said you were his and he wouldn’t ever hesitate to-

you don’t even hear the jingle of san’s keys opening the front door or his softly spoken call of your name. 

you’re only aware of his presence when you feel his warm, small hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing over your wet, salty skin as he mutters your name lowly.

“hey, i’m here, i’m here,” he mumbles sweetly, tone soft and gentle the way it always is no matter what the circumstances are.

he plops down on the couch before pulling you into his lap, his hand rubbing up and down your back gently. you hear the quiet but firm “sh, sh, sh,” against your head, the sharp calming hums always in threes as an attempt to ground you.

you try to focus on his calming sounds and even breaths, the hand on your back so warm and gentle as he lulls your panicked body into a calmer state. 

you bury your face in his chest and breathe in his scent, cologne and detergent mixed with his natural scent that lingers on your pillow every morning. 

“i-i’m sorry.”

the words make his stomach plummet, tears burning his eyes because you never have anything to be sorry for. you never have anything to be sorry for and you say it all the time. 

when you bump into him in the kitchen while making food together.

when you sit on the remote and change the channel by accident.

when you burnt the cookies one night and made the fire alarm go off. 

he remembers that being one of the worse nights, the loud noises making you jump while also flinching away when he lifted his arm up to fan away the smoke. and then you immediately apologized again, cookies long forgotten before he grabbed your hand and led you into the living room. 

he just held your hand as you both watched tv, his thumb rubbing over your skin before you spoke words so quietly, he almost missed them. 

“i wish...i would stop doing that.”

he cranes his neck over to look at you, eyebrow raised and eyes soft as he looks  at you questioningly. 

he wants to tease and say that you’ve never burnt the cookies before but anytime you feel comfortable enough to talk to him like this, he never wants to say the wrong thing.

“i...i know you would never hurt me,“ you continue after a few moments. “and i know i’m just...scared easily, i guess. but it makes me feel bad,” you admit quietly, heart pulling in your chest as you look at the man beside you. 

he has gotten you through the hardest times of your life, has been by your side every step of the way with no questions or complaints, and you haven’t been able to repay him. 

not even with a plate of fucking cookies. 

“you don’t have to feel bad, y/n,” san says gently, his hand reaching out slowly to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. 

your eyes close at his feather light touch and the way it makes your heart jump, his fingers lingering on you in a way that makes you feel so safe and content. 

“and i know it’s hard to believe still but you have nothing to be scared of either. i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again and i mean that.”

“but i feel like i’m hurting you,” you mumble softly, pulling your knees up as you rest your head on the couch cushion. his brows pull together as his eyes roam your face, a pout on his lips the more he looks at you in silence.

“you’ve helped me so much and i just...” tears fill your eyes as you struggle to find the words and breathe. you’ve only been living in your new house for two months now and almost every day, san has been here. 

bringing you food, helping you clean and decorate, spending late nights with you watching movies, helping you through an inevitable fit of panic when your memories and life become too much. 

he makes it easier to breathe and you’re scared that without him, you’re gonna stop one day.

“i just keep... taking from you. you get nothing out of helping me but you still do it anyway and i...you shouldn’t even bother, san. i-i’m not worth this time and i just want you to-”

“stop.”

he tries to keep the anger out of his voice knowing that all of this is what you’ve been told. you’ve been told your whole life that you weren’t enough, were only deemed worthy by a piece of shit who did nothing but hurt and berate you. 

but it doesn’t make it any less hard to hear. to hear in your voice and see in your eyes that you truly believe you’re not worth the time he wants to put into you. 

“you’re worth the time to me,” he says, voice gentle but firm in a way that makes a lump form in your throat. his finger reaches out to trace small circles on your hand, your eyes following it so he doesn’t see the tears building up. 

“i like seeing you happy, y/n. and i wanna help you.”

your teary eyes meet his and you swallow the growing lump in your throat when you see the look on his face, soft and sweet in a way you still can’t believe is directed toward you. 

“i feel like i need a lot of help,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you think back to how day to day life is so challenging and draining. 

the loud voices and the screaming kids and banging door that sends you into a panic. the broken dishes and tear stains on your pillow that are there more often than not after san leaves every night. 

but san’s hearing each and every word right now, his heart panging in his chest at how vulnerable you are right now. how you let him see this side of you and continue to despite how hard he knows everything’s been. 

“that’s okay,” he smiles softly, stopping the circles on your hand to intertwine your fingers. “i’m gonna be here as long as you need me, okay?”

you look up to meet his gaze and feel a tear slip down your cheek, a cry bubbling in your throat that you so desperately wanna let out. 

but you also don’t wanna make san any more sad tonight, biting down on your lip as you nod your head before leaning on his shoulder. 

you don’t see the smile that crosses his face or hear the content sigh that leaves him, his hand in yours and presence enough to lull you into a dreamless sleep. 

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you quietly, looking over your face as he wipes at your cheeks. you meet his gaze and your eyes stay locked on one another, his thumb gentle and soft across your skin.

“did you do good on your test?” you squeak out after a few moments of silence, a smile breaking out across his face. 

“of course i did, we studied all night, didn’t we?” he teases, referring to just last night when you helped him with index cards and read them all to him twice before promptly passing out on his chest. 

a blush crosses your face as you look down in embarrassment, a sweet high pitched laugh bubbling out of him. 

“it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. your drool only ruined a few of them.”

“i don’t drool,” you mutter, a small smile on san’s face as he tightens his hold on you in his lap. 

“did you eat yet?” 

you shake your head as indistinguishable mumble leaves your mouth, curling yourself into his chest more as his warmth and comforting scent envelop you. 

his lips brush against your hair in a small smile, quietly asking what you wanna eat even though he knows you’re gonna say you don’t care. 

“whatever you want,” you mutter against him, the exhaustion of waking up at 5 am and the draining meeting with your lawyer catching up to you. 

and san knows on days like these that chinese food and watching reruns of old cartoons is usually the thing you need to feel a little bit better. 

pretend that just for a few hours, everything is okay and there’s nothing more pressing than spending the night together in what always turns into having a sleepover. 

because just as you found it difficult to live in that house you once shared with jungkook, san finds it difficult to go back to that block every night. 

stay just a few houses away from where he’s reminded of how you were treated while he was just a few feet away.

watching as the backyard once full of flowers becomes dull and colorless and every window reminds him of what was truly going on behind the walls of that house.

it’s one of the reasons why staying with you just makes sense. that and the fact that leaving you always proves to be the hardest part of the night together. 

you with a pout and sad eyes quietly whining for him to stay and him being completely powerless as he throws himself down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist. 

he’s not surprised when the same thing happens tonight, your eyes drooping and body slacking against him before he quietly asks if he should get going. you look up at him tiredly, eyebrows pulled together and one cheek red from you leaning on his chest in a way that makes him hold back a smirk.

“no,” you say quietly, your eyes roaming his face before you quickly realize he might want to leave you. the thought rips a pang of hurt through your chest but you can’t help but feel that might be the case. 

you ripped him away from his test and cried on him all night. why would he wanna stay with you? 

“unless you want to. i-i don’t wanna force you to stay here if you don’t-”

“of course i want to,” san responds, taking your face in his hands gently and allowing his thumb to run along your soft skin. “i was just checking.” 

because he also never wants to overstep. make you feel too overwhelmed or smothered since if it were up to him, he’d never leave your side again. 

his words and touch send relief through you, the panic and fear that attempted to break through quickly dying it. everything about him makes it so easy to be calm and comforted, a smile making it’s way on your face as you nod. 

you place your head back on his chest, sighing contently when you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder a few moments later. you stare at the tv blankly, not sure how long you’re lost in thought about the conversation at the lawyer’s office. 

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

could you really do that though? strip yourself to the most vulnerable degree and proclaim to a courtroom full of people how weak and defenseless you were for five years? how the man who’s gonna be seated just a few feet away over you had that much power over you? 

would you feel better looking jungkook in the face and telling him that you’re gonna be strong and come out okay? that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore and will rot behind a cell for what he’s done?

or would you it make you feel worse? seeing him again and the blankness behind his eyes. the pity and sorrowful looks on the judge and court officers when your voice shakes and eyes brim with tears as you recall your old life.

you’re not even sure if san is awake at this point, his arm heavy around you and breaths even under your head but you can’t seem to stop your tired self from speaking.

“my lawyer suggested i make a personal statement.”

san doesn’t stutter under you, the only sign of him being awake when he hums lowly and gently pulls away from you. the bed dips next to you when he lays on his side, your eyes meeting just as he reaches out to smooth out a messy strand of hair.

“yeah?” he mumbles lowly, his soft eyes roaming your face. “how do you feel about that?” 

the question, despite the serious tension in leaves in the air, makes you smile softly, remembering when your lawyer recommended counseling, you thought back to san waiting in the car and felt as if you already had all the support you needed. 

he has the most patience and kindness of anyone you’ve ever met before and you can’t imagine trusting someone as much as trust him. have someone else hear you this vulnerable and genuine, see you cry and feel all the emotions that come with rebuilding your life after being a victim of domestic violence. 

“i don’t know if i can do it.”

the words make san frown, holding himself up on his elbow as he looks over your face with concern. he can tell you’re tired, eyes hazy and drooping but he also can tell your mind’s been preoccupied. 

more so than usual. 

“i...i don’t know if i could do it with him there.”

“he’s not gonna hurt you anymore,” san reminds you gently, his hand creeping down in between your bodies to take ahold of yours. it’s soft and small and warm and everything about it makes you feel safe. 

“i-i know. but...just him being there. watching me and hearing me say what he’s done when i know he has no remorse. and then telling more people how i let it go on for so long and-”

“you didn’t let anything go on for too long. it wasn’t your fault. y/n.”

tears burn your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, hearing those words from almost everyone in your life but still not having the ability to grasp it. 

it feels like your fault, it feels like you’ve allowed yourself to be treated in a way you knew was wrong for far too long. 

because now look at you. trying to rebuild your life but being panicked when the wind howls just a little too loudly outside. 

you take a few deep calming breaks and swallow as you look at him, eyes hazy and glossy and threatening to close shut; you’re so tired but it’s like your brain never stops going these days. 

“she said...it’d guarantee the harshest sentence. but shouldn’t the evidence be enough? the tapes and the witnesses? why- why do i have to keep going through this?” you whisper, voice shaky and tears building as you look at him. the sight alone makes san stomach sink, rolling his tongue between his lips anxiously. 

“i just want it to be over. i don’t wanna keep recounting what happened over and over and over again. i... it’s so hard, san. it’s so hard and i feel like i can’t do it anym-” 

your words break off as a quiet whimper leaves your mouth, crumbling against san’s body when he pulls you forward and wraps his arms around you. your head falls in the crook of his neck as his hand rests on the back of your head, breathing slowly and evenly as quiet hums leave his mouth. 

“I know, baby,” san mumbles, his lips against your head as he presses a kiss to your hair. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, okay? no one can make you do anything.”

"you're hurting me, jungkook," your broken voice tells him, the cracks and pain behind it familiar to even your own ears.

you don't know how many times you've heard yourself like this. so desperate and defeated.

"i wish i didn't have to, babydoll," he says lowly, "but you never listen. you make me do this."

and you don’t even think about if you’re gonna regret it at the time. not use your own voice and speak up in front of the courtroom about what the man on trial did. 

you can only think about his eyes watching you, your friends hearing your voice quiver and shake, the judge maybe not taking your words into account. it all seems too much right now, the crushing weight of anxiety and fear that’s making you feel too weak to do that. 

“you made it this far. and it’s almost all over, okay?” san reassures, his hand stroking your hair as he tries to calm your cries. “if you wanna do it, i’ll be right there next to you. we’ll all be there for you and you’ll be safe the whole time. but if you don’t, that’s okay too. you don’t have to and everything will still be okay.”

and because it’s like the blonde just knows everything when it comes to you, everything is okay - or as okay as things can be under these circumstances. 

your lawyer didn’t bat an eye when you told her you weren’t sure if you could do a personal statement, her hand on your shoulder as she gently tells you that it’s okay. that the harshest sentence would probably still be given, considering the unusual amount of evidence in a case like this. 

you watched jungkook get taken out of court with a one year sentence, thrashing in handcuffs and cursing at you while you gripped san’s hand tightly. 

you had foolishly thought watching that was gonna somehow heal you immediately. 

no longer make you afraid or flinch at the smallest of sounds or movements, make you feel like now you can take san’s words to heart and feel worthy of the love he showered you with. 

but it was with that love, you started to grow too dependent. let it consume you in a whole new way that made you feel like without san, you couldn’t breathe. 

at first, he didn’t know what had triggered the episodes that followed three months after the trial. 

it had seemed as if you were making a lot of progress over the past few months, truly happy and smiley without an ounce of fear in your eyes that had always seemed to linger. 

you were working hard at the bakery, becoming closer with the regulars and even finding it easier to talk with them. they found you comforting and sweet, always greeting them with a warm smile and remembering how many sugars they got with their morning coffee. 

the same warm smile you gave san when he told you he was visiting his parents for his mom’s birthday one weekend, sending him off with a loaf of bread and an array of cookies. 

“don’t eat them all,” you teased lightly, side-eyeing mingi who was one of your many regulars and could also take your advice as he shovels rainbow cookies in his mouth. 

“i won’t,” san smiles gently, looking in mingi’s direction and holding back a laugh upon seeing the boy. 

he was probably the next closest person you came to trust since you all got to know each other, a soft spot for him ever since the moment he deemed sunflowers ‘sunnies’ during the darker times. 

mingi was the happiness and innocence you think you must have had once. finding the good in everything and being happy just because the sun was out and dessert was on the table. 

“and neither should you,” san chastises the younger boy, smacking him in the back of the head lightly. you smile softly at the exchange, holding back a snort as you clean off the table next to the bickering boys. 

the arm around your waist a few moments later would’ve startled you had you not smelt san’s cologne, leaning into him and feeling grateful you’re the only three in the store right now. 

you look over your shoulder and smile softly at him, heart stuttering at the look on his face. eyes full of such concern, you should know he’s about to ask you if you’re-

“are you gonna be okay tonight?” 

he wasn’t ignorant of the fact, the same way you weren’t, that this is gonna be one the first nights you’ve spent alone in months. 

not falling asleep to the gentle lull of his breathing or his arms around your waist. no one to be there if you wake up from a nightmare, where memories torment your body as you hear the shouts of your ex and feel as if your body is still being bruised.

san not being there to wake you with a gentle peck on the cheek before dragging you back to the warm bed when you try to get up for work. 

but you have to be okay, right? you’ve been doing so good these past few weeks. and you’re an adult the same way he’s an adult, it’s ridiculous to think you guys would have to spend every night together. 

“of course, silly” you poke him gently, smiling when his dimples poke out of his cheeks. “have fun with your parents. don’t worry about me.”

“i always worry about you,” he mumbles lowly, his lips ghosting over your hair as you push his chest lightly. he bites back a smile when he sees the blush on your cheeks, pulling away from him immediately so you can stick your tongue out at him. 

and that night, it actually feels as if you’re okay. 

you busy yourself by cleaning and cooking before passing out to the vampire diaries. your sleep is dreamless and calm, waking up to a good morning message from san consisting of a bare-faced, messy-haired selfie. 

but a few days after his return is when he began to notice the little changes. 

behaviors he thinks you weren’t even aware of that made his heart sink into his stomach; it reminded him so much of the first few weeks you were away from jungkook. 

how despite the fear in your eyes, you clung to him because you knew he’d never hurt you. felt safe in his presence and sought him out when you were feeling uncomfortable or upset. 

and he sees you’re back to the place right now, so obviously uneasy and upset despite the major progress you’ve been making. 

it was like the second he came through the door, you had to be by his side. leaning your head on his shoulder as you watched your shows or grabbing his hand when he got up to go to the bathroom. 

at first, he thought it was cute - your clinginess and obvious affection toward him. he thought it was sweet and it made him so happy, smiling softly and kissing the top of your head as he told you he’d be back in a minute.

but the more the weeks went on, the worse it was seeming to get. 

you asking him after only a few hours of him at school when he was gonna be back. nightmares and bad memories haunting you when you’d fall asleep for naps in between your shift ending and his last class. 

“baby... are you sure you’re okay these days?” 

the words cause you to stop stirring the pasta in the pot, craning your neck to where san is sitting on the countertop. 

he meets your gaze with a soft smile and extends his hand out to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose before pulling you up.

you squeal at the sensation, giggling quietly because there you two are just perched on the counter like two cats and no regard for the boiling pot of food beside you. 

you giggle again when he places a kiss to your neck, tightening his hold around your waist.

he relishes in the sound of your laugh because it also seems like these days, he’s hasn’t heard it that much. 

“i feel like i haven’t heard that in a while,” he mumbles against your neck, his lips lingering on your skin. he never wants to say the wrong thing with you or make you feel like you’re not doing good enough. 

you pull back and look at him with a small pout, your fingers toying at the end of his shirt nervously. 

“i...i’m okay though,” you tell him quietly, thinking it’s the truth even though you have felt off these days. 

you didn’t know what it was though honestly. it’s felt like ever since san came back from his parents, you’ve needed him extra. clingy and needy and annoying in the sense that the poor man can’t even go away without you needing him. 

and now he seems to know it, too. 

maybe he doesn’t wanna do this anymore. maybe he didn’t sign up for months of you going back and forth, feeling great and confident one week and then back to being clingy and scared the next. 

because you know it’s only a matter of time before two things happens: he gets sick of you and leaves or starts resenting you. doesn’t wanna waste his time with a battered woman when he could be wth fun and carefree college girls. 

“have i been annoying?” 

your blurted out question throws him off as much as it breaks his heart, immediately shaking his head as he cups your cheeks. 

his lips fall into a pout and your eyes immediately fall to them, about to comment on it before he places a sweet, short peck on yours.

you two, despite your close and intimate relationship full of skin-ship, don’t kiss a lot. you can only count of one hand how many times san has kissed you on the lips, most of the time going for your cheek or head.

but you certainly don’t mind. 

you think it’s good to take it slow, since everything else about your relationship is so intense. that’s why the times he does kiss you, you get filled with such a happy warm feeling that usually makes you feel better no matter what. 

that’s how you know you’re not right. that suddenly, for some reason, you’re not okay again despite being so incredibly lucky that the people in you life now care about you. 

they’re trying so hard to help you and it feels like you can’t repay them in any way.

“no, no, baby, not at all,” san says when he pulls back, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. “i’m just concerned.”

the lump in your throat makes it feel like you can’t breathe, biting your lip harshly as you look up at the blonde. 

“i love that you want me around,” he continues softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks down at you. “but i’m just...i also wanna make sure you’re okay.”

you nod your head as you take in his words, slightly calmed by them despite the way your mind is trying to tell you otherwise. 

he loves that you want him around, he just said so. and he wouldn’t put up with you if he didn’t want to, right?

“i’m okay,” you assure sweetly, leaning into his touch just a little bit more. “i guess i just missed you.”

your cheeks flush at the soft, almost touched look that crosses san’s face, his lips falling into a pout as he tightens his hold on you.

“i missed you too.”

boiling liquid splashing onto the stove causes you both to look away, a squeal leaving your mouth as the foamy water overflows the pot. 

“shit!” you squeal, jumping down from the counter to rush over and lower the heat. san watches from his spot with a small smile, chuckling lightly when you throw him a look.

“sorry,” he says sheepishly, a playful roll of your eyes causing him to jump down and hug you from behind.

he presses small kisses and laughs into the crook of your neck as you finish making the pasta, feeding him pieces from the pot to see if it’s cooked enough. 

you eat on the couch and spend the rest of the night watching tv, a relatively calm and relaxed night that makes you feel much better than the past few days. 

you think you just got so used to his presence, the comfort and warmth and light he provides by just being in your apartment and smiling at you. 

you were scared by how attached you’d grown to him, depending on him in a way you think a person who has gone through what you’ve gone through shouldn’t.

but he’s so good and makes you feel loved. it’s such a different feeling than one you’ve ever experienced, after your family and friends and ex-boyfriend let you down time and time again. 

you’ve never had someone like this before but you’ve also never tried to rebuild your life before. never had the chance to be your own person and make your own decisions - it’s something you’re still learning and that’s evident to everyone in your life. 

but the next morning, a pleasant surprise in the form of mrs. kim comes bursting through the door and immediately lights your face with a smile; apart from san and mingi, she’s another person you’ve grown extremely close and fond of. 

she’s the one who made everything possible, rebuilding your life with a new home and workplace. it’s why she always tries to push you further out of your comfort zone and into the real world with gentle prodding and much needed assurance. 

she’s at the bakery for almost two hours before she pulls up a chair behind the register and gets that look in her eye you know all too well. it’s the look she gave you the day you accepted the apartment, insisting you take it and make it your own and to not even think about how to pay her back. 

the look she gave you before the trial as she gave you strength, told you that you were strong and you were gonna get through this, with or without your personal statement. 

and apparently it’s the look she gives you when she broaches the topic of you enrolling back in school. 

“so what do you think?” she asks, tone carefree and excited like she’d been thinking about this for weeks. “is that something you’d wanna do?” 

your immediate thought is yes. yes, yes, yes shout it from the rooftops yes. you miss school and learning and all the experiences that come with getting an education. 

you once loved school and had so many aspirations but then your life apart. the prospect of an education or getting a job was dangled in your face as some sort of manipulation tactic.

that when jungkook went too far and left you especially bloody and bruised, he’d mentioned school like it was the answer to all of your problems as a couple. like that was his penance and would win him boyfriend of the year.

and mrs. kim must see the haunted look in your eye, replaying flashbacks and memories from how choices like that weren’t under your control for the longest time. 

“listen to me, stop staying in there,” she says, flicking at your head and making you wince. “is that something you wanna do? yes or no?” 

“yes but i-”

“but nothing,” the old lady says, wiping out an ipad the boys had been teaching her how to use for the past few weeks; the font is the biggest size you’ve ever seen and has a cat case on that almost makes you burst out laughing upon seeing.

“i was looking at the local school, it’s close and cheap but you could always get some financial aid, scholarships or even a loan,” she begins to tell you, eyes squinted and a wrinkle between her browns as she taps on the screen. “this shit is so hard, i’m still trying to learn. oh, great here it is, okay. look, they even have this major.”

you had mentioned once that you thought about a career in journalism to her, one night when you and her were making cookies in her house as the boys tended to her garden (because they were gardeners now, official, professional gardeners who only know how to plant sunflowers). 

tears almost immediately fill in your eyes as you follow her pruny finger, licking over your lips so you don’t start sobbing. 

she looks up at you after a few moments of silence and it’s promptly followed by her smacking your arm, a scoff leaving her mouth that makes you giggle. 

“what are you crying about?” 

the emotion clogged in your throat makes it hard to speak, attempting to talk through the strange contrast of tears and laughter bubbling in your throat. 

“i just... i can’t believe you remember i told you that. it was so long ago.”

“what? you think because i’m old i don’t remember shit? i’m not a senile, y/n, jesus.” 

a wet giggle leaves your mouth as you listen to her talk about the research she’s done, about how to pay and when you can start and her son’s experience at the local college. 

it all makes you feel very hopeful, excited even, as you think about what once seemed impossible. 

getting out in the world and pursuing a passion you as an individual had. making connections and just conversing with different people and seeing relationships form. 

but all of those doubts and fears instilled in you don’t just go away.

you remember months back when you told san you were writing again, he was the one who recommended going back to school. 

was so happy about it that his eyes were shining and dimples were out and you’d never seen someone more handsome.

but now that you guys are...kind of together, would his mind change? does he not want you talking to other people either now? will he think it’s silly or pointless, since you already have you job at the bakery? 

you know deep down that that’s not the kind of person san is. you knew from the moment you met him and risked talking and smiling and laughing with him that he was good.

but that part of you still scared and broken from what you went through, the prospect of school and freedom dangled in your face as some sort of reward or apology, is scared he won’t approve.

and whether it’s unhealthy or not, all you want is san’s approval. 

“c-can i ask you something?” you ask him later that night, both of you cuddled up on the couch.

a blanket’s thrown over your lap with san’s arm around your shoulder, your head now off his chest as you look up at him questioningly. 

he immediately looks down at you with a soft, curious expression, running his hand through your hair as a small smile makes it’s way on his face. 

“anything,” he hums lowly, already making your nervous body feel slightly more calm. 

you have to try and always remember this is the boy who’s been by your side for months, with no complaints. who saved you from your life before this and only wants you to be safe and happy. 

“i was talking to miss kim earlier today...” you begin, his interest already peeked because he thinks he might know where this is going; he was suspicious ever since the older woman asked him how to make the font larger on her ipad. 

he sees the slight apprehension and fear in your eyes so he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin gently and giving you a small, encouraging nod. 

you take a deep breath and try to shake the worry off, opening and closing your mouth before deciding to spit it out. 

“we...were talking about me going back to school. and i...kind of thought that would be something good for me to do. i used to love school and learning and mrs kim. said there’s a lot of things i could do to pay for it and stuff, if i needed to...” 

his chest hurts slightly watching you stammer over your words nervously, your eyes moving from him to the wall as you start to unconsciously hold his hand tighter. 

“but if you don’t want me to or think it’s a stupid idea, i won’t. i just...wanted to make sure it was okay with you.” 

you don’t see the way san sits there in contemplation as you’re too nervous and toying with the edge of the blanket, his face sympathetic but also a little surprised. 

there’s a lot of things that san is still getting used to, the way you’re so vulnerable and attached to him (in a way he doesn’t mind at all). 

but it’s like right now he’s seeing the severity of it, watching as a grown woman asks for his permission for something she absolutely doesn’t.

it makes tears burn the back of his eyes but he quickly pushes the sensation and desire away, his hand lifting your chin so you made his gaze head-on. 

“y/n...you don’t need my permission to do anything. you... you know that, right?”

your eyebrows pull together almost in confusion that he didn’t immediately respond with a yes or no, head cocked to that side as you lick over your lips nervously. 

he can’t help but think if this was a fault on his part. did he make you feel like you have to ask his permission or approval for things? did he maybe at any point make you feel scared or judged when he’s been doing his best to avoid that?

your harsh grip on his hand brings him back to the conclusion that, right now, this isn’t about him. 

whether he did that or not, he has to make sure right now that you know you’re your own person and don’t need to run decisions by him or anyone else. 

“baby, i think it’s great you wanna do that and will support whatever you wanna do. but you don’t have to ask for...my permission to do anything,” san tells you softly, his hand cupping your face as he presses a kiss to your head; the words ‘his permission’ even feel gross on his tongue.

“i’m happy if you’re happy. and if going to school will make you happy, i’m gonna be supportive 100%. you got it, love?” 

you don’t even know why you’re surprised by san’s reaction but it still brings tears to your eyes, only being able to nod before you bury your face in his chest. 

he bites back a smile at the feel of you against him, running his hand up your back to gently rest in your hair. 

“you still wanna study journalism?” he mumbles against your hair and again, you can only nod so you don’t let out the whimper threatening to leave you mouth.

because it still shocks you day after day that everyone in your life now truly seems to care. 

they remember things about you and want to see you smile, always remind you that you can do whatever you want and are slowly making you see that, maybe, you will be okay in the end. 

it may not seem like a lot to someone who’s been lucky enough to have these things but, for you, it’s something you haven’t ever had before.

the ability to giggle and smile and spend your night with someone who you can see really, truly loves you. who wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and always has your best interests in mind.

that’s exactly why when you fall asleep, san can’t help but turn to look at your sleeping form. he runs his hand through your messy hair, moving a strand from your face and feeling his heart lurch at how peaceful and innocent you look. 

he still can’t get the thoughts out of his heads from earlier, wondering if, maybe, this whole time, he hasn’t been doing the right thing. 

maybe these past few months, you should’ve been rebuilding your life on your own. he shouldn’t have been here every, single step of the way to sooth and coddle and protect you. 

it was something hongjoong said just a few weeks after you moved in and he nearly attacked the boy, asking how he could let you cry alone every night and feel lonely and scared in a new place?

but he also knows that hongjoong is more logical than him. he’s always let his emotions get to him, empathetic and caring almost to a fault. 

and with you, he was always even more clouded. 

now, though, he’s seeing that maybe hongjoong has a point. he’s seen it in the way you’ve become more clingy and dependent on him, something he loves and makes him feel warm but also knows, for you, is a part of feeling safe. 

and as hard as it is for him to admit, he knows you need to feel safe without him. slowly rebuild your own sense of self and security without him always being there to wipe your tears or kiss your face. 

but how is supposed to do that? he thinks, watching your sleeping face with a pained chest and burning eyes.

he’s about to get up to get a glass of water before he hears you whine, both his feet not even on the floor before even in your unconscious you can sense his departure. 

“going to get water, love, i’ll be right back,” he mumbles in your ear, kissing the side of your head when you still and roll back over. 

he gulps down the cool liquid before resting his head on the cold fridge, letting out a sigh as he realizes he may need to have another discussion with hongjoong.

even more so when he goes back into the room and sees your face, the slightest hint of discomfort in your pinched eyebrows and frowning lips. 

you turn back over when he crawls in the bed again, your head on his chest and arm wrapping around his stomach. 

he smiles upon hearing your sleepy voice call his name, dazed eyes staring up at him as he kisses the tip of your nose. 

“hi, baby. i’m back.” 

“i love you.”

the confession make his eyes widen and heart speed up, shocked into silence at those three, sudden words. 

because while it’s obvious that’s how you both feel for each other, your sweet touches and words exchanged since the moment you met one another, you two haven’t ever uttered that sentence. 

never put it out in the open and really discussed your feelings for one another. 

but your eyes are shut and breaths turn even before you can even hear his softly spoken, “i love you,” in return. 

and it’s because he loves you that he tells hongjoong about the thoughts he’s been having, wondering if he’s been doing the wrong thing the whole time and just making this transition harder for you. 

“i think you’re trying to make it easier because you love her and don’t wanna see her hurt anymore.” 

san’s eyes meet hongjoong’s across the dining room table at their house, a house san hasn’t slept or eaten at basically since you moved out; everyone knew where he was and they understood it completely but they also missed their friend’s presence. 

“but...she does need to learn to be on her own, san. she’s never done that before and she’s always been dependent on someone. luckily you’re just...so fucking good that it wouldn’t be a problem. but even with her asking you if she could go to school...she’s not okay, yet, san. she needs to sort her shit out.”

“i don’t want her to be alone,” the blonde admits, voice tight and eyes threatening to water. “i don’t want her to think i’m leaving her.”

“you’re not leaving her alone. you’re just not gonna be attached at the hip 24/7. it’s normal for couples to be apart. you still live and pay rent here, you know. everyone misses you.”

the sound of bickering and plates crashing promptly comes from the kitchen, mingi’s harsh yelp of wooyoung’s name causing a commotion of bickering to break out. 

hongjoong looks at san with a half pained, half amused expression, knowing that the dimpled boy  will have to readjust to how loud and chaotic the house is all the time. 

“you don’t have to do right now,” hongjoong says, wanting to finish the discussion before the boys notice san is here and lost their shit. “ease her into it. talk to her about it. see if she feels the same way. but let her know you just wanna help her, because i know you do, right?” 

san’s nod is immediate and hongjoong mirrors him, his eyes quickly widening as he looks over the blonde’s broad shoulder. 

he doesn’t even get to turn around before a slew of bodies bump into him, nearly knocking him onto the floor as six large, excited boys are jumping and squealing around him.

“san! you’re finally home!”

you’re nearly two months into your first semester of college by the time you’ve fully adjusted to your new schedule and pace of life.

classes monday, tuesday and thursdays mornings followed by your shift at the cafe during the afternoons. you miss your early morning regulars dearly and don’t know what to do with the 10+ memorized coffee orders still in your brain but you already love school so much. 

you love learning and talking with your professors and meeting the many different people on campus. you’ve even found a small group of friends, two girls who sat next to you and immediately started up a conversation with you.

you were terffied and shy at first but eventually opened up, giggling and sharing your thoughts with them before class started - you even always made sure to be 10 minutes early so you could get in your chats with them. 

unsurprisingly, san had been nothing but happy and supportive for the entire journey. helping you apply and become familiar with the campus while also assuring you everything was gonna work out. 

your days were busy and packed with work and you truly loved it but night was still your favorite. when san would walk through the door with take out or you’d be greeted with the sight of him waiting for you on the couch. 

it really felt as if your life was finally coming together, happy and at peace in a way you never felt before. it was like you finally had some sort of control over what happened to you, long gone the feeling of knots in your stomach or an uncontrollable shake in your hands. 

but when you notice san is a little more quiet than usual today, you feel that foreign feeling make it’s way back into your body. 

“is...everything okay?” you finally grow the confidence to ask, his hand absentmindley rubbing your leg that’s sprawled out on his lap. 

you can tell the question throws him off by the way he snaps his head up to look at you, brows pulled together and his head cocked cutely to the side as his eyes roam your face. 

“’course love, why do you ask?”

“i don’t know,” you hum softly, leaning the side of your head on the couch as you look at him. “i feel like you’re quiet today.”

“just thinking baby,” he tells you, tightening his hold on your leg before looking your way. “how were classes today?”

“good, i have to start my essay soon,” you tell him, something uneasy still pulling at your stomach; you’re not used to san being quiet or so lost in thought, usually the only time he’s silent is during a new episode of your shows.

“you’ll do great on it,” he says encouragingly, the hand on your leg gently calmingly rubbing your skin up and down. “you’re doing really good, you know that?” 

happiness fills you at the thought of making san proud, a small smile on your face that causes one his own to cross his face. his dimples poke out and it reminds you so much of your first meeting, when the sun reflected off of him and you just knew there was something too pure and good about this man.

“thank you,” you smile softly, a faint blush on your cheeks that has san’s heart breaking in his chest even more.

he doesn’t wanna have this conversation tonight but he thinks it would be the best time. bring up maybe not staying over every night to create some more space for you while also allowing you to be more independent. learning how to fill your time with things other than him.

but you’re so happy tonight. 

you’ve been so happy these past few months and he doesn’t wanna be the person to ruin that; it seems, though, you can see something behind his eyes and in his demeanor already, your body wiggling closer to him as your gaze shifts nervously. 

“are you sure you’re okay?” 

he lets out a sigh and you can’t help the way your stomach drops, watching carefully as his face turns contemplative and torn. like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if you’re gonna be able to handle it. 

and that alone is scaring the shit out of you. 

the silence is probably only fifteen seconds but it feels like hours, your eyes staring wide and heart starting to race as you look at him; you don’t know what you did but you had to have done something, right? he wouldn’t just act like this out of nowhere. 

“did i...do something wrong?” you ask meekly, that feeling of fear and panic you haven’t felt in almost a year creeping back. you almost forgot how debilitating this feeling is, fully consuming your body until you feel like you’re about to completely breakdown and crumble. 

the fear and concern on your face immediately makes him frown, shaking his head adamantly as he pulls you closer to him. 

“no, no, no, y/n, of course not,” he assures softly, his lips brushing against your head. 

you feel his calming breaths in your hair, like he already knows from the slight waver in your voice and look on your face that you’re getting worked up and anxious. 

the few moments of silence should make you more anxious but you can only focus on his breathing and the warmth from his body against you, trying to stay calm as you remember that this is san and he would never do or say anything to hurt you. 

“i’ve just been thinking about some things and i wanna talk to you about it,” san says, breaking the silence and immediately making your stomach flip nervously. “it’s nothing bad, baby, i just... you know i always have your best interest in mind, right?”

you swallow the lump growing in your throat as you turn to look at him, the soft look in his eye making you happy as much as it makes you sad. 

because while you love seeing it, how sweet and thoughtful and truly kind he is, you know it’s also there because he thinks you’re about to lose your shit. and you haven’t lost your shit in quite some time. 

“i-i know...” 

he takes your face in his hands when your eyes start to wander, the quiet hum leaving his mouth making you look up at him again. the look in his eyes truly stirs something in you, tears burning your eyes even though you’re not even sure why yet. 

“and you know i’ll never, ever hurt you?”

you nod again, feeling panic deep within your chest at where this conversation seems to be going.

“so what i’m about to suggest, i need you to hear me out, okay?”

he waits until you nod, his stomach sinking at the glossed over look in your eyes before he daringly opens his mouth again. 

tells you that he thinks you living on your own while you start a new chapter of your life will be a good thing for you both. that learning to be independent and on your own will help you immensely in this new part of your life. 

“you’ve been doing so good, y/n, and i’m so proud of you. you’ve started school and you work full time and you’re doing all the things you want to do. but we’re together all the time, baby, and i...i don’t know if that’s healthy, for either of us, you know?”

and you think to the average person, who hasn’t been abused and neglected and spent the last five years in normal, healthy circumstances, they would hear this and understand immediately. 

that being alone and learning how to be on your own is a good, healthy thing that everyone needs to experience. 

but all your brain can hear is he doesn’t wanna be with you anymore. 

he’s tired of your brokenness and tired of looking after you all the time and needs some space from you; and while, you suppose, you can’t blame him, it doesn’t hurt you any less. 

it doesn’t terrify you or upset you any less, even though you know his intentions are good; you can only feel unwanted and unworthy and like your time with someone so much better than you is up. 

“is it...i just...do you not like it here? with me?”

did you not keep it clean enough? did you not cook enough, were the meals too frequently takeout and leftovers? you remember jungkook hated that, demanding the house be spotless and dinner be ready and homemade. 

san would laugh at the question if this weren’t the current situation, a serious talk he’s been dreading having because he knows how you’re gonna take it at first. 

but he loves being here and that’s the problem. 

he would coddle you and love you and protect you for as long as you let him if it were up to him. but he knows that’s not what you need anymore, that you’re both not helping anyone if you continue to live your life in what became too comfortable and safe. 

you deserve comfortable and safe but you also deserve to live happily and freely by yourself. and maybe that’s not his decision to make, he often thinks, but he certainly doesn’t think he’s helping you by enabling you to depend on him. 

“baby, i love it here and i love you and i’ll never leave you until you tell me to,” san says, pressing a kiss to each cheek he prays tears don’t fall on in the next few minutes. “but i want you to be okay, love. i don’t want you to need me every night to sleep or think you need to ask my permission for things that are your choice.”

“is that- is that what this is about? that i asked you if i could go to school?” you ask meekly, the idea of talking back foreign but something you can’t control right now. “or is it because i’m in school?”

because maybe you’ve been too busy. maybe he feels like you neglected him. maybe he just wanted an out and this is it. 

“of course it’s not because you’re in school,” san says, slight outrage in his voice as you even suggest that; he always tries to control his responses to you, knowing you’re dealing with years worth of manipulative behavior and maltreatment, but sometimes it does also get to him. 

he was always supportive of your career and education, even when you were just friends and he admired you from afar.

“how could you think that?”

“because this is so random,” you squeak out, tears breaking through as the knot in your throat grows bigger. “i...i didn’t even know you were feeling this way and now you wanna stop seeing me.”

“i don’t wanna stop seeing you, y/n, when did i say that?” san asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you contemplatively. 

“you said you don’t want to be together all the time...” you mutter out, feeling stupid and childish but not yet truly understanding what he means. you guys don’t fight at all and you’re always smiling and laughing together - isn’t it okay to be together all the time if good things like that are happening?

“y/n, i love you, of course i wanna still see you. but i just mean...living together the way we have these past months. you’ve never been alone. you’ve always depended on someone, right?” 

you think back to your dysfunctional childhood, depending on alcoholic parents who never taught you how to fend for yourself until you fell into the arms of yet another abuser who you depended on even further.

restricted company and meals and communication, even restricted in what you could do outside the walls of your house. 

“yes,” you nod, sniffling as you wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “but they’ve only ever hurt me. you never do.”

that fact makes san’s chest pang with hurt, his own eyes burning with tears now as he thinks about how much pain you’ve endured. 

“i know, baby, and i never will. but i think this’ll be good for us. good for you, mostly, that’s always my mian concern.” 

but you start to wonder how this could possibly be good the second the front door closes a few hours later, leaving you alone in your apartment that now feels far too cold and far too dark and far too empty. 

his lack of presence is noticable immediately and it doesn’t take long for panic and sadness and all that existential dread you once felt so deeply start to come on.

he doesn’t want you, nobody wants you, and the only people who did want you hurt you. 

it’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you cry silently, splashing your face with cold water after your puffy eyes can’t take it anymore. and when you get a good look at yourself in the mirror, tear-stained and blotchy and a big fucking mess, you can’t help but see that same girl who was trapped in that house with jungkook.

weak and afraid and horribly incapable of doing anything right. so similiar to the current state you’re in now, sinking down on the bathroom floor and crying into your hands again. 

this could be about san leaving, you know it has something to do with it, but you’re also crying because you now see just how badly you’re still effected by everything. 

you could be distracted by school and work and san but there’s still so much under the surface that you haven’t come to terms with. 

so much so to the point that even san had to step in and do something about it, him still seeing signs that you’re not okay despite how much everyone in your life is trying with you.

and it makes you feel bad that you have so many supportive, lovely people in your life but still can’t find it in you to feel okay. to not depend on one singlar blonde man to make you feel happy or act as if without him, you’re gonna break.

because you can see he’s tired of it. if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have-

“y/n?” 

his voice coupled with his fist hitting the door causes you to jump, at first thinking it’s a bittersweet trick your deluded little mind is playing on you. but then he knocks again, his sweet murmur of “y/n, please open the door,” causing you to cry out again.

hongjoong told him not to go, that he’d barely been home for an hour before he was already itching to rush back to you. 

but he felt uneasy leaving the way he did in the first place, and then even more so when you didn’t answer his three messages and two facetime calls; he hated thinking that you were crying alone or feeling upset. 

and it’s heartbreakingly evident when you reach up to open the door, curled up on the floor in tears, that that’s exactly how you feel. 

“baby, no,” san hums lowly, immediately dropping to the floor so he can gather you in his lap.

it’s so much like the scene when you ran there after the final incident with jungkook, when you collapsed on the floor and finally told somebody about what you’d been going through. 

what happened?" he asks desperately, voice strained and wavering.

but you can only shake your head and cry. cry for how long you've been dealing with this alone and how you feel trapped and how if you don't tell someone tonight.

"he's gonna kill me," you sob out as you shake your head frantically now, "i-i he's gonna kill me," is all you can repeat through ragged breaths.

san can only act on instinct, sitting down cross-legged and holding his arms out slightly before you crash into him. he shakily inhales when your head rests on his shoulder, sobs muffled by his shirt as he feels tears promptly soak through the material.

but he can only sit there, hand on the back of your head as he rocks you soothingly in his lap back and forth.

he listens to your sobs with a broken heart, tears stinging his own eyes because he had suspected something was going on for months and just sat here and did nothing. and now here you are, broken and bruised and in fear for your life.

"i can't go back there," you cry out, "i-he's gonna-"

"no one is gonna hurt you, anymore," he mumbles lowly in your ear, "i'm not gonna let that happen."

“you’re- you’re gonna leave me,” you whimper into his shirt, the only sound in your bathroom for the past few minuets your crying and his soothing hums. “you’re not gonna wanna deal with me anymore and leave and then i’ll really be alone and i’m so-”

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m not gonna let that happen,” he mumbles in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he presses his lips to your head. he rocks you back and forth so similarly to that night, his hand running up and down your back as he tries to get you to calm down.

“we’re gonna get you help. real help. and we’ll all be here for you whenever you need us. you’re gonna be okay, my love.”

one year later:

you look back at the breakdown in your bathroom and are always surprised that you don’t feel embarrassed.

you think that was the moment when you finally realized how much you’d gone through and how much you really had to sort through. that you could distract yourself all you want and depend on san as much as you felt you needed but you still had things to work through. 

it took you about four therapist consultations to find the right one, eventually finding a sweet older woman who reminded you so much of your boss at the cafe. she listened to you and encouraged you and helped you find so much strength within yourself, you regret not taking your lawyer’s advice sooner about seeing a professional.

you still had bad days, of course, but now you’ve learned how to properly cope with them. cope with the stressors of everyday life, like the shouting of voices and the slamming of doors and san not being by your side 24/7. 

and san, little to your surprise, had done the right thing in saying you needed to learn to be independent.

it scared you at first, living alone and being alone with your thoughts and memories that tried to haunt you every chance they got. but now your life is so full of happy ones that it makes everything a little bit easier; you now love the freedom of living alone and have come to enjoy the peaceful silences of your apartment.

you now have so many things to laugh and feel happy about, like mingi and seonghwa’s obsession with gardening (even though they’ve moved on to vegetables now and have yet to combat the battle with squirrels eating their tomatoes). 

you have school and classes and friends that you made, making straight a’s while also balancing time with your study group, the boys and mrs. kim and your official boyfriend san. 

there are still some days when you wake up and feel a sinking feeling in your stomach that you think might be there forever, a certain smell or certain pain richoetting through your body that will remind you of what you went through and survived. 

but you know that you’ll be able to get through it, not only because you’re strong enough now but because you still have san to lean on - the boy in question currently with his arms wrapped tight around your waist and snoring down your neck. 

you can’t help the small smile on your face as you turn in his hold, your finger reaching out to trace the contours of his face. 

the warm, overwhelming feeling in your chest should scare you but it makes you feel even more happy and content with life, shutting your eyes immediately when his brown eyes meet yours. 

his loud chuckle fills the room before he lips attack your neck, quiet giggles leaving your mouth that only spur the blonde on more. 

“i saw that,” he mumbles playfully, smiling against your skin as your giggles get louder. “good morning, baby.” 

you pull back and smile at the boy staring down at you lovingly, the late-morning sun beaming through your window reminding you so much of the first time you saw him. 

heard his sweet, friendly voice that you immediately trusted and probably fell in love with right there.

"those are coming out really nice!" you hear a voice say from the yard next door. 

you shoot your head to the side to see a young man standing there, probably about your age, eyes kind and dimples poking out of his cheeks as he holds an overflowing white garbage bag.

your lips quirk up ever so slightly, probably being mistaken for your mouth twitching before you give him a tiny bow.

"thank you."

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

[downtonabbeyrevisited]

Season Two Episode Four

A 1918 timestamp ushers us into one of Downton’s more slow moving episodes where three parts painful banality has been mixed with one part life-or-death peril.

Providing more interesting political and cultural conflict than WW1 (at least at Downton) is Isobel’s ongoing grating at Cora’s very soul. Cora has had the temerity to ensure that the staff don’t collapse on their feet and has done something with the linen that I can’t quite fathom which, of course, Isobel takes as a slight upon her medical knowledge. Isobel makes the fatal error of calling Cora’s bluff threatening to ‘seek some other place’ if she is not appreciated at Downton. Major Clarkson also takes sides with Cora and Isobel now has no choice but to throw herself and her messiah complex upon the Red Cross in Northern France. I am sure they will be thrilled. 

With Isobel’s departure, Moseley and Mrs Bird find themselves at a loss having deep cleaned the house and moaned about their employer’s eating habits. Turns out that one thing they forgot to do was deploy any semblance of a security system as a random man with a drama school limp wanders into the house looking for food. In a manner that would make the current Conservative front bench recoil with horror, Mrs Bird starts up a soup kitchen out of her own (presumably rather small) pocket. In her latest attempt to not do her job, Mrs Patmore drags Daisy out for some fresh air and in the process uncovers this particular bit of well meaning but financially unsustainable charity. Mrs Patmore scales up the operation, creating a “special storage area” to squirrel away surplus from the army’s stock, which O’Brien conveniently overhears (but to be honest, it’s not that much of a coincidence. I imagine most of the kitchen heard it considering that Mrs Patmore practically yelled it). In an effort to try and inject a bit of actual drama into this episode, O’Brien reports this to Mrs Hughes but (un)fortunately, Mrs Hughes could not care less. But after watching the world’s most appalling secret handover of goods in the village, O’Brien rallies and this time is successful in bringing Cora to the nefariously compassionate Bird-Patmore coalition. To absolutely everyone’s surprise (viewers included) Cora orders food to be taken from the house stock rather than army and with all the over-confidence of a consultant sets about re-arranging tables and streamlining the workflow. 

Feeling much less charitable than Mrs Bird, Moseley heads to the Abbey and attempts to make himself indispensable and reach the dizzying heights of ‘Valet to the Earl of Grantham’. But not long after the peels of laughter that such a notion invites have died down, Bates returns and takes Mr Molesley’s shoehorn which one can’t help but think is emblematic of something. The return of Mr Bates is, naturally, a painfully protracted process that involves key protagonists not talking to each other, Thomas smoking on a wall, and the obligatory invocation of Kamal Pamuk. Robert invites Bates back to help him through the ‘veil of shadow’ and as such I was intrigued to learn that he is a World of Warcraft devotee. Bates reappearance downstairs also allows for the return of two other key Downton Abbey tropes: Anna and (John)Bates having a heart to heart under the cover of darkness, and Thomas and O’Brien’s irrational loathing/scapegoating of Britain’s most infuriatingly lovelorn character (outside of Thomas Thorne) to resume with aplomb. 

Less happy to be within the confines of the Abbey is Edith who continues to signal that all of this is really a bit beneath her (certain elements quite literally). Ever the teacher’s pet, Mr Molesley reports the sighting of an Officer by the maid’s staircase to Mrs Hughes who hears that there have been lots of rumours on the timeline tonight and comes out to say that she does not live in a sack. Unfortunately, Major Bryant does not live in one but definitely frequents one and, as such, it is of course Ethel is dismissed. As she rapidly packs all her belongings, Anna pleas to Mrs Hughes on her behalf confirming that she is indeed the friend we all want but probably don’t deserve. But Mrs Hughes can’t get rid of her that easily as Edith (and passenger) skulk back to liven up the end of the episode with news of an oncoming baby *Eastenders drums intensify*. 

Talking of undeserving relationships, Sybil and Branson receive more air-time than usual, providing the latter the opportunity to demonstrate that at times he really can be a muppet. And a slightly malevolent one at that. Sybil is firmly under the cosh this week with Violet making thinly veiled references to inappropriate alliances and Mary asking probing questions whilst she tries to get on with her job. Mary thinks that she has spotted her sister and Branson having some kind of romantic exchange but in reality, all that she has seen from afar is Branson telling Sybil that she is in love with him which when you think about it, is all kinds of awful and hardly the basis for a healthy relationship. After a long walk through the grounds where I am half expecting Branson to appear on a horse Willoughby-style, Sybil eventually caves and confesses to Mary that she doesn’t know if she likes Branson despite his eminently creepy voice over. Sybil then relays her sororal confidence and rather than taking this as an opportunity to ingratiate himself, Branson for whatever reason attempts to coerce Sybil into a relationship but not before he belittles her job. Sybil looks rightfully outraged as some equally emotionally manipulative strings wail in the background in an attempt to try and make us think that anything that has just happened was evenly slightly dreamy. 

Threaded through this glacially paced episode has been the looming threat of a both a concert and the death of Matthew and (to a much lesser extent because that is how class works) William. In an effort to break the monotony of walking around the exact same bit of French trench (see previous re-caps for further details), William and Matthew take to wandering across some largely unadulterated land and into the path of some nonchalant Germans. Daisy’s lack of (presumably fawning) letters from William starts off a chain of enquiry which confirms that the War Office has declared Matthew and William missing enabling Mary to once again deploy her signature move: weeping into her gloves. But only one hand this time because she needs to keep a bit of composure for the show must go on! Apparently. Following some abysmal piano playing (I grew up in an appallingly musical household and we all had to endure the torture of other people at the early stages of learning an instrument. It was of course blissful when we got good but, heck, I was thrown straight back to the horror of it all with that ‘accompaniment’ and had an odd sort of stress response which I won’t describe here), Mary and Edith do a rendition of If You Were the Only Girl (In the World) as everyone looks on stony-faced before participating in the millenia’s most morose sing-a-long. With a very good sense of drama, Matthew and (to a much lesser extent) William make their return. Matthew takes his place at Mary’s side and joins in the signing to what is now presumably quite a bewildered audience. Ah, Downton. 

Romantic declaration of the moment 

Violet raises reasonable concerns about Richard Carlisle but Mary is more interested in expanding her real estate portfolio and agrees to throw her lot in with a fiscal agreement disguised as a marriage. Upon his ‘miraculous’ return, Matthew gives the union his blessing on the condition that Richard remains deserving. Not that he ever really was. But the sentiment is what matters here and what is more loving* than putting another’s presumed happiness before your own.

*there are actually a lot of other more loving things but in the interest of formatting, we’re going to sweep those under a very large rug for now. 

Expressive eyebrow of the week 

Rather than training as a nurse or being actually pretty useful in a convalescent home, Mary’s contribution to the war effort is being amicable with Edith. Violet declares that she has now “seen everything” as the spirit of Mrs Adelman moves on. 

Wait, what? 

“I wish we had a man” Presented without comment 

“If I am not appreciated here, I will seek some other place” Yes. PLEASE. 

“What must he do to persuade you he is in love with Lavinia? Open his chest and carve her name on his heart” No, Mary. Matthew merely needs to carve her name with a compass on his forehead to prove that… 

undefined

“I hate the word ‘missing’. It leaves so much room for optimism.” Robert is a bit emotionally weird isn’t he? 

“We haven't kissed or anything. I don't think we've shaken hands. I'm not even sure if I like him like that. He says I do, but I'm still not sure.” And lo, another red flag is raised. But because Branson is Downton’s version of a Bolshevik, both Mary and Sybil view this not as a warning about the boy’s behaviour but rather a symbol of his political leanings and such signals are duly ignored.

“He always seems a romantic figure to me” Daisy Robinson writes fanfic. Pass it on. 

“Sometimes in war, one can make friendships that aren't quite…appropriate. And can be awkward, you know, later on. I mean, we've all done it.” Once again, Violet, tell us more! 

Bates says that he has returned to “Downton at war” which sounds like a lucrative exhibition name if I ever did hear one. 

Despite Mary’s most valiant efforts, no musical performance had ever gone out to such an impassive audience until Rosalind came along 

undefined

Matthew of course is used to a much better quality sing-, sorry, song-a-long 

undefined

[morganaspendragonss]

reckless but honest words

However much TK had thought he’d grown used to his parents’ shit, he’s far from prepared for the next words that come out of his dad’s mouth.

“We’re - that is to say, your mom - well… We’re having a baby.”

ao3 | 2.3k | title from anger by sleeping at last

TK narrows his eyes as he walks into his parents’ house, the trepidation that’s been building throughout the day coming to a peak as he spots them waiting for him on the couch. His dad had texted earlier, specifically requesting he come home tonight instead of going to Carlos’s, and while TK hadn’t exactly had any objections, it had given him a bad feeling.

His suspicions are instantly confirmed when he sees his parents’ unnatural postures, the way they’re smiling at him just a bit too widely. He walks in cautiously, feeling weirdly like he’s heading into a trap, though there’s nothing in the room that would outwardly suggest so.

Just his mom and dad, and how they keep looking between him and each other, like they’re in on some sort of joke that TK’s the butt of. 

“What’s going on?” he asks, easing himself into an armchair. They share another glance - giggling, for god’s sake - and clasp hands.

“TK,” his dad starts. “Your mom and I… We’ve got some news.”

TK eyes them warily, his mind instantly flashing to the possibility that his dad’s cancer is back. He dismisses the thought almost immediately - they’re far too happy for it to be that - but he also can’t think of what else it could be. Maybe his mom is moving in permanently? Which… TK wouldn’t be opposed, but he’s not sure how much longer he can cope with their bickering, and he’s barely here half the time.

“Do you want to tell him?” his dad asks, but she shakes her head and waves her hand towards him.

“Go ahead.”

And however much TK had thought he’d grown used to his parents’ shit, he’s far from prepared for the next words that come out of his dad’s mouth.

“We’re - that is to say, your mom - well… We’re having a baby.”

They grin at him, waiting expectantly for…congratulations, TK guesses? A hysterical laugh bubbles up in his chest, and he’s barely able to push it down, clamping his jaw firmly shut until he feels like he’s in control again.

“You… You’re serious,” he says eventually.

“Well, it’s hardly the sort of thing you joke about,” his dad says, laughing a little. His mom swats at him, but they’re both still smiling, both still acting like this isn’t incredibly fucked up.

“How long have you known?”

“A while,” his mom admits. “We weren’t going to keep it, but then we thought about it and we realised that we both want a child. Another one.”

TK barely notices her hastily added-on amendment. He gets what she means - he’s not a child, and hasn’t been in many years. He’s more stuck on the fact that they’re choosing to bring another child into this pressure cooker of a household, and not seeing anything wrong with that.

Even when he’d been a kid, TK had felt like he was being pulled in every direction, constantly caught in the middle of their arguments. The feeling’s eased now he’s an adult, but only because he knows he has places to escape to when it all becomes too much. He hadn’t had that growing up, and this new kid won’t have it either. 

Maybe he’s being too unfair on them; maybe they can pull it together after all. But, having borne witness to their behaviour these past few months, TK kind of doubts it. Knowing them, they’ll have decided to keep the kid by way of an argument.

And TK knows it’s far from his decision to make, but he can’t help but question them. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?” he asks. 

Their faces drop, smiles faltering as they look at each other, seemingly having a wordless conversation. His dad nods encouragingly, and his mom turns back to him, reaching across the gap between them to take TK’s hands in her own.

“Honey…” she sighs. “We know the risks, alright? Lord knows we’ve both done enough googling. But I’m healthy, and I know what I need to do to make this pregnancy as safe as possible, and we truly believe we can beat the odds. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

She smiles hesitantly, and TK just gapes, not quite understanding how she’s managed to miss the point this badly.

“That’s not what I… Wow.” He presses his lips together in a firm line, standing up abruptly and dropping his mom’s hands. “Okay.”

He shakes his head and turns to go, but he’s stopped when they also rise, effectively blocking his path.

“Where are you going?” his mom asks, frowning in confusion.

TK feels a twinge of guilt, but he pushes it away. “Carlos’s.”

“Now, hold on a minute there, son,” his dad says. “I thought you could stay here tonight, we could have a meal as a family for once. You’re barely here these days.”

“Wonder why,” he mutters, though clearly not quietly enough judging by the way his dad flinches. TK can’t bring himself to care. “I’m going,” he says, louder this time. “I’ll see you at work.”

He squeezes past them, and makes it to the door before he’s stopped again.

“I thought you’d be happy for us.”

TK freezes, hand on the doorknob. “I am,” he lies through gritted teeth, and he doesn’t need to look to see the disappointment written all over his dad’s face. “Congrats.”

He’s gone before they can get another word in, just barely refraining from slamming the door behind him. His skin itches, his whole body jittery and on edge, and TK briefly laments the fact that he’s in no way dressed for running. He has clothes inside that he could change into, but there’s no way he’s going back in there now. He’ll just have to stick it out until he can get to Carlos’s.

Getting into his car, TK has to resist the urge to hit the steering wheel. But he doesn’t trust his parents enough to think that they aren’t watching him from the window, so he simply starts the ignition, driving away without a backward glance.

*

Carlos is surprised when he walks in, pausing his meal with the fork halfway to his mouth.

“TK,” he says, frowning. “I thought you were staying with your parents tonight.”

“Me too.” TK scowls, tossing his keys into the bowl and making a beeline for the bedroom. He feels bad for ignoring Carlos like that, but he’s worried that if he stops to think, he’ll snap, and Carlos doesn’t deserve that.

Carlos must follow him up the stairs anyway, as when TK looks up from yanking his spare running clothes out of the drawers, he’s standing in the doorway, the picture of concern. He sighs, sitting back on his heels, taking a moment to collect himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just… They asked me over because they had some news, and it sort of threw me. I needed to get out of there.”

Carlos nods in understanding. “Is it your dad? Was there a problem with the cancer, or something?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“That’s good, right?” Carlos is looking at him with those wide, worried eyes of his, and TK feels a little bit of his anger drain away at the sight.

“That part is, yeah,” he allows. “I’m not sure the same can be said for the rest.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

TK hesitates, then rises from the floor, shaking his head. “I will, later,” he promises, “but right now I just need to be alone.”

He quickly changes and grabs his headphones from the night stand, though he stops in his tracks when he catches sight of Carlos’s pained expression.

“Hey,” he says, crossing the room and cupping Carlos’s face in one hand. “I’m not shutting you out, I swear. I need air and some time to think, that’s all. Promise I won’t do anything stupid.”

He smiles and holds his pinky out, and Carlos huffs a brief laugh. He links their pinkies and meets TK’s eyes, searching his face. “I’m holding you to that, Strand.”

TK presses a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

*

He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but by the time he gets back he’s winded, and his thoughts are no less scrambled. The lights in the living room are off when TK walks in, but he can see a soft glow coming from upstairs that lets him know that Carlos is still awake. He’s sitting up in bed, reading, when TK manages to drag himself to the bedroom, having already showered and changed. He holds an arm out in invitation, and TK goes gratefully into the embrace, leaning his head on Carlos’s shoulder.

Carlos absent-mindedly traces circles on TK’s arm with his thumb, a silent comfort that TK relishes in.

“My mom’s pregnant,” he says eventually.

Carlos freezes. “Oh. That’s… Wow.”

TK chuckles humourlessly. “I know.” He sighs. “I feel like I shouldn’t be mad, but I can’t help it. I mean, I knew something was up, they’ve both been acting cagey for ages, but I just… I never thought it would be this.”

“I think you’ll be forgiven for not expecting it,” Carlos comments drily. 

TK hums, fiddling with the sheets. “It’s not just that, though. I’m pissed that they didn’t tell me, sure, but I’m less mad for me, and more for this kid. I know what it’s like to grow up with them, and you’ve seen how terrible the past few months have been. I can’t believe they’re seriously going to put another kid through it all.”

“Maybe they’ll work things out,” Carlos suggests, though even he sounds doubtful.

“I want to believe that. But…”

“But?”

“I don’t think they even noticed it,” he confesses, voice quiet. “I was so alone as a kid, but Mom had her firm and Dad had the firehouse, and I was just...there. I know they loved me, but that doesn’t mean they were great parents, and I don’t think they realise even half of what they did. They’re having this baby because they want the good times back, and they’re forgetting just how many bad times there were.”

Carlos squeezes his shoulders. “Shit, Ty-”

“You know it’s part of the reason I became a firefighter?” TK asks. He should probably feel guilty for interrupting, but it’s like some dam has broken inside of him and it’s all coming spilling out whether he wants it to or not. “I’d see my dad with his crew - with this family he’d built at the firehouse - and I just… I wanted in. I wanted my family back, but I couldn’t have that so I settled for inserting myself into his.

“It sort of worked, I guess. We were close. But he’s never been a father to me, exactly, not in the way I needed. I’m okay with it now, but I’m worried the same is going to happen all over again.”

Carlos waits, but TK’s done this time, gritting his teeth against the emotion welling up in him 

“Have you spoken to your dad about any of this?” Carlos asks.

TK scoffs. “I tried. Remember my identity crisis after I got shot? I went to him and told him, but he just turned it on me and started talking about 9/11 again. It’s like, I know how bad it was. I know his whole house was killed, and I know how badly that hurt him. But I was seven, and I lived through it too. It’s not the same, I get that, but I did. I think he forgets that sometimes.”

He groans, slumping down further into the bed - and, by extension, into Carlos. “I sound like a dick, don’t I?”

Carlos is silent for a long time, and when TK looks up at him, he’s worrying his bottom lip, brows creased in a frown. 

“I think…” he starts slowly, turning his head to meet TK’s eyes. “I think you’re being perfectly reasonable. Everything you just said… I can’t even imagine, Ty.”

TK stares at him, startled by how firm, how fervent Carlos’s voice is. There’s anger there, too, and it’s strangely comforting to know he’s not alone in his frustrations. Even so, TK feels the need to reassure him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lightly touching Carlos’s arm. “You know I’m okay, right? I’m over all that.”

Carlos sends him a doubtful look.

“Mostly,” he amends. “Besides, I have you now, and the team. I’m not the one who needs to be worried about.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” Carlos says, but he sighs, relenting. “You should talk to your parents, though. They need to know how you’re feeling, especially if they’re going through with this.”

TK shrugs non-commitantly. “Yeah, maybe. Not like they’ll listen to me.”

Carlos sighs. “TK -”

“Can we not talk about this anymore?” TK interrupts, turning pleading eyes on his boyfriend. He’s tired of thinking about his parents, and he feels more than a little guilty for taking over their evening complaining about them, like he’s done far too many times before. He points to the book lying abandoned at Carlos’s side. “Tell me about that?”

Carlos sends him a look, emphatically letting TK know that he’s not going to let him push this away, but he does eventually pick up the book. “I don’t think it’s something you’ll like,” he warns.

“You like it,” TK says. “That’s enough for me.”

The brilliant smile Carlos sends him is almost enough to make him forget everything else that happened tonight. And when he starts talking, TK closes his eyes and lets Carlos’s beautiful voice wash over him, chasing any other thoughts from his head.

It’s peace, of a kind.

[mypersonmyg]

The Misery Chick | MYG

thank you to my favorite @kimtaehyunq for the wonderful banner, ily you talented cutie <3

pairing: Yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, a lil tiny bit of angst, college au

wc: 5.2k (issa short one)

warnings: language

summary: maybe yoongi has a fat crush on you OR he notices, that’s all

a/n: happy birthday to the one and only min yoongi! i am so so fond of him and i couldn’t not write something for him, so I hope you enjoy :D and as always feel free to send in drabble requests for the fic and blah blah blah...

honorary tag: @gukssunshine​

masterlist

To wonder about the quickened stride of the beating appendage in Yoongi’s chest, would be to question the routine catch of gaze to the lone figure at the far end of the classroom, dwarfed by cuddled fabric, consumed with the rapid turn of the lengthy page. His arm rests atop the desk’s surface, supporting the chin that minutely dips with your every flicker of expression, the parting of your lips in gasp mimed by his own. His eyes are glazed under bright light, lids threatening to blink, the passage of time too fast, but oh so slow. 

Yoongi’s knowledge is second hand, rumblings of your demeanor spread through the vine of dialogue that floats coincidentally through his ears to connect with the edges of his brain, chewed and regurgitated without second thought. He holds his refusal to high regard, refusal to believe that you’re nothing more than a student, disgruntled by circumstance. It’s not simple attraction that guides his mind to the eye of logic, the region of reason, though it was the peak of initial interest.

He notices, and that’s all. 

He notices the round of your puffed cheeks that follows a particularly surprising piece of narrative. He notices the seat left empty between you and the wall, open but not a forced invitation, and he notices the way your posture straightens when someone grazes a hair too close. He notices the deflation of your shoulders when you’re left without pair during lessons framed with the inopportunity of interaction forced to simulate the false reality of reality itself. He notices the things others are blind to in their half squint, though the picture is still blurred like the edges of a polaroid. 

The numbness of his wrist, angled by the rest of his chin, draws him from captivation despite motivation to outlast the congregation huddle before you, their fronts focused toward him, his view obscured by obligation of association. His lips form the curvature of amiability necessary for pleasantry, neck craning to the defense of blue jeans offending his locked gaze.

“Can you stop staring so hard? She’s gonna eat you alive,” Hoseok’s finger nudges at the round of Yoongi’s jaw, urging his attention completely away from his person of interest. 

“Fuck off, you don’t even know her.” 

“Neither do you, despite your dedication to staring holes into her side every chance you get. They don’t call her ‘the misery chick’ for nothing, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile.” The jab rubs the wrong direction, Yoongi’s hand landing with a thud to the thick of Hoseok’s skull. “Come on, it’s a joke.”

“Maybe to you, and to everyone else, but she is a person. You guys just don’t look beyond what you wanna see because then she’s more than just a good laugh.” Every utterance of the moniker draws is lips to a downward twitch, fists balling in the pocket of his hoodie or scraping at the fabric of stressed jeans. It’s knowing that if he’s heard it you have ten fold, the thought harboring the wish that he could fold you inward, close to the beat of his chest to shield from the displeasure of words half baked with stupidity and the ignorance of hilarity. 

“Well not everyone wants to see her between the sheets.”

Interruption of the education saves Hoseok from the verbal spar pending within the fire engulfing Yoongi’s pupils. A place of love harbors the words of war, he knows this, knows that Hoseok’s plan is to rile to the point of action, but he’s driven to the brink of insanity by twisted words of encouragement. The kindest person on the planet playing into the stereo of broken records hurled toward the edges of your delicate framing, . 

Yoongi’s hands curl around his pen, ballpoint and already dancing the page, jotting words flown from one canal to the other and back to the atmospheric toxins of brains shorting caffeine. His sleeves are suddenly burning, neck itching with the heat of nerves crawling outward from within the confines of his collar. He glances toward Hoseok staring absently at Yoongi’s decorative scrawl, raising a brow to colliding gazes.

“Is it hot?” Yoongi puckers in mumble, swiping at the skin kissing the fringe sweeping his eyeline. Hoseok’s head careens in the negative, averting gaze to the front of the room, professor droning about the coming assignment, a project that Yoongi barely catches wind of. 

The plague responsible for his discomfort of familiarity is comfort enough to stop the distant tremble of shoulders keen to the stare that meets his eyes from the room’s opposing side. He jolts, or rather the calm of his heart picks back to pace, when his eyes meet irises reflective of his own.  They’re gone as soon as he finds them, but he’s confident that the cool of his neck is confirmation that sanity isn’t all lost. 

“Dude, could you take your notes? I’m gonna need those later,” Hoseok nudges at his forearm, limp from distraction. Yoongi hurries to scribble missed lecture, patient for a lull in speech to make room for declaration. 

“She was looking at me.” 

“What?” 

“Y/n, she was looking at me. I saw her...I felt her.” 

“Maybe she was just staring off into space because this class is a snooze-fest.” Hoseok speaks through the timing of yawn, perfectly punctuating his point. “She probably doesn’t even know you exist. Though, I guess everyone knows you exist, so maybe she just doesn’t care.” 

The words aren’t false, Yoongi’s following his beyond the definition of quaint, his celebrity following him from the rush of the court to the thrill of the keys. He’s hard pressed for a moment of peace, but he often finds it here, lost in you. 

“I’m serious.”

Yoongi sighs an audible defeat, Hoseok’s dropped lids and the rest of his chin atop folded arms a clear sign that his mind is beyond the classroom and beyond Yoongi’s own romantic woes. The end of the lecture appears miles from the start, the wave of dismissal a spell releasing its hold on the shackles chaining the  ghoulish appearance of sleepless students. 

Yoongi has worked himself to the brink of decision by the end of the lecture, sure enough that his stride to your desk will prove a build in the shy tint of his cheeks when he musters a faint ‘hello’. The pan of his half thought out plan doesn’t sort as well as he hoped, the rush of legs scurrying for the door tripping him up in his rush to the chair where you patiently filed notebook to bag. 

His vision is blurred by the passage of sweaters and hoodies, emblems emblazoned on sleeves and beanies sagging from the tips of bedhead. Hoseok follows after his stride in a confused wake from the desk that housed his sleepy head for the last seventy minutes, stumbling along with the drag of feet on tile. 

When destination is met, your chair is neatly housed, your figure nowhere to be found, Yoongi paces back, his sizable sneaker just scuffing the metal recline of an adjacent chair. 

“What are you doing?” Hoseok clutches the muscled fabric of Yoongi’s shoulder, stopping near disaster following the weighted displacement of the two. 

“Nothing, let's get lunch.”

The passage of days are a haze in the midst of the craze of midterms and Yoongi’s attempt to find reason to believe your glance was more than a passing innocence. The press of his back to his mattress, sheets freshly laundered, linens, scented of the artificial makings of fresh lilac courtesy of Jeongguk, are used to his mid-day collapse for a pre-study snooze. He’s swallowed whole beneath the dense of his comforter, fingers curling into the soft material, lips emitting a sigh of satisfaction. 

The buds in his ears are a dull hum, white noise to saturate the crevices of his brain still vibrating from the surge of knowledge consumed at the twice rapid pace of the semester’s schedule. His lids are aflutter, pupils rolling to the dark precipice, the unconscious already tugging at the bits of his subconscious manifested to snooze.  

The muscles of his pillowy cheeks fight upward against the smush to the firm cushioning of his mattress, arms cuddled around the decorative cushion of deep blue. A pitched giggle echoes in the receptors of his brain, bouncing against the walls, a comforting sound. It’s foreign though, the melodic stutter, yet it engulfs his chest with the warmth of affection, his stomach turning with nerves of the giddy sort. 

He teeters on the edge of more, features dancing between streams, a waterfall blur. Yoongi aches for the reach, his physical and metaphorical being extending from the depths of his full size bed, yearning for the exploration of the four walls and beyond. He can swear his fingers graze the soft of skin, the trace of lip curved in sensuality just visible through sleepy haze. The giggles grow in volume, almost as if guided toward his hasty reach. 

“Jeongguk, shut up!” Yoongi falls forward, just catching onto the ledge of his dresser, quick reflexes doing wonders for his physical well being, but the skip in his mental and the stop of his heart are undeniable. 

He's heard the voice a handful of times, an arm eagerly shooting to respond to a professor’s quarry, the hidden mumblings that he swears he’s the only one to pick up on, his smirk almost never enough to stop impending chuckle.

It’s you. 

He knows, but can’t quite grasp that just beyond the barrier of belief, past the door sealed to keep from disturbance you’re somewhere laughing with Jeongguk. He listens for a moment, unmoving, to attempt a deciphering of your intentions, but laughter has turned to the inaudible mumblings from the room across the hall.  He’s silent in his trek to the door, pulling it on rusted hinges, cringing with every scrape of copper and wood. 

He slips down the hall on tiptoe, unsure if you’re attune to the other members of the house, but not ready to face you if Jeongguk’s door swings back to reveal the occupants of the small cubical. Yoongi makes way to the kitchen, surprised to find the rest of his roommates crowded into the sizable space, each occupied with their own endeavor of strewn textbooks and half frozen toaster strudel. 

“Well well look who’s awake,” Jimin sneers playfully in Yoongi’s direction, drawing attention from the rest of the room. 

“Bet I can guess why,” Taehyung snickers, glances exchanged with a conspiratorial air, the shift of Yoongi’s feet not unnoticed by his personal tormentors. “We told Jeongguk he might wanna keep it down, we know how you like your rest.” 

“Jeongguk didn’t wake me,” Not the correct turn of phrase, realized just moments late, the flicker of pupils raising with the feigned ah ha! Yoongi side steps them all, settling on the sphere of orange grabbing his interest from the bowl on the table, plopping into the nearest chair. 

“Oh he didn’t? Well what other reason could you possibly have to forgo your pre-study nap, hmmm?” Jin pokes at the slightly greened peel of Yoongi’s fruit, hand smacked away with haste. He withdraws to card through his hair, lengthening by the day, framing his face with more beauty than should be allowed by the ethereal senior. 

“I was hungry, s’all.” He tosses scraps with each peel of fruitful flesh, eagerly sliding bits of tangerine past his puckered lips. Anything to keep his mind from the fresh dose of giggles eating at his brain like a love bitten parasite. “Who—umm, who does Jeongguk have over.” 

“Oh, Kookie has a friend over? We had no idea,” Namjoon hums, glasses perched to the bridge of his nose, arms eaten by the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“Maybe you recognize their voice? I mean, you’re the only one close enough to hear it.” Hoseok’s grin is shit eating, half hidden behind the length of his hand, fingers curling in position at the tip of his chin. 

“Oh, oh! I think I recall him saying something about a...Y/—hmmm was it…” Taehyung fakes stumbles over the name, tips of his fingers tracing the glass of his crumbed plate. 

“Y/n.” Yoongi speaks through teeth clenched, his cheeks rosy from snatched sleep and the scrutiny he’s placed himself under, the heat of a lamp concentrated in the five pairs of eyes trained on his every movement for their amusement. 

“So you do know her, why don’t you go say hi?” Jin pats him with vigour, the sound of an echoed frame permeating the air of what Yoongi has affectionately titled, friendly toxicity. Those same muffled voices grow with the trek down the stairs, threatening to give way with each step. Yoongi lifts his eyes from his half eaten fruit for the first time since he sat down, daring them to say a word out of turn with a single look. 

“It’s pretty quiet considering seven guys live here,” Your voice is audible from the front door, Yoongi’s grip tightening, juice spilling down the crevices of his hand, soiling his shirt sleeve, palms already sticky from the stress. “I have one roommate and, as you’ve seen, she can be loud enough for the both of us.” 

“I’m just as surprised as you are actually. I know Yoongi is probably asleep,” Yoongi sinks into his chair, knowing glances threatening to drop him straight through the wooden surface. “The rest are probably out.” 

“Yoongi?” Your voice strays a bit, Yoongi’s lip twitching, unsure what to think of the sudden strain in pitch. 

“Yeah, do you know him?” 

“Oh, um...kinda? Not really, we share a class together, but we’ve never talked. I’m pretty sure he’d think he’s too cool for me anyways. You know, ‘misery chick’ and all.” Yoongi levels a stare at Hoseok whose arms lift in readied defense, though his own face conjures frown at your words. Your attention clearly never spotting the longing with which he’s leveled you for the past few months. 

“You’re not the ‘misery chick’,” Jeongguk’s voice holds firm reassurance, something Yoongi wishes he could give you, but he’s glued, too curious for the thought of impromptu interruption. “People are just jerks. Besides, Yoongi-hyung isn’t like that at all. He likes to pretend he doesn’t know how cool people think he is.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to take your word for it. I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Koo.” 

The door closes, Jeongguk just as soon rounding into the kitchen, tracks dead when there are six pairs of eyes trained on his figure. “Wha—have you all been here the whole time?” 

He only takes pause momentarily, his stride leading to the fridge, a juice box of all things pulled from metal confines. The naked eye would never guess the soft interior of Jeongguk, his features contrasting with the boots swallowing his feet and the tattoos eating his arm, tracing his digits. But he’s the walking embodiment of the careful youth painting each man posted in the room, a piece of him nursed by a piece of them with each day passing. 

“Yeah, we’re just hangin’ around, Jeonggukie.” Hoseok shrugs, ruffling the base of Jeongguk’s wild curls. 

“Well you’re doing it pretty quietly, Y/n thought it was weird.” 

“Are you guys dating?” Jimin’s question is thrown with abandon, eyes trained on Jeongguk with absolute focus, Yoongi sending a glare toward the silver haired fiend. 

“No.” Jeongguk pays little mind to the question, too busy squeezing every last drop from the box clutched in his fist, doe eyes glistening with concentration. “We met last semester in lit and she’s really cool so we started hanging out. You guys should meet her sometime, she doesn’t have a lot of friends because of this dumb rumor that she’s ‘the misery chick’ which is ridiculous because she’s one of the nicest people I’ve met here.” 

“Yeah, you can bring her over any time.” Namjoon encourages, book lowered to the table, face scrunching in mental agony when he realizes the corner of his novel is soaked with the spill of orange juice. 

“She said she knows you from class Yoongi, but she doesn’t think you’d like her. I think you would though! Maybe you should try to talk to her next class.” 

“Yeah,” Yoongi readily agrees, new found vigor in his speech. “Maybe…” 

Over the next several weeks, Yoongi is sure that coincidence isn’t what found his stare locked to yours, Jeongguk’s overheard conversation clearly leaving your interest peaked about Yoongi who was forced to make his own gazes less frequent for fear of being caught. His first sighting after he floated the walls of his home like a ghost in haunt was next lecture. 

The nerves that ate at his skin the first instance of your curious scan was turned bearable by the itching of excitement to his every nerve, skin alight with the tango of possibility traversing his very being. His attention was wayward, standing at the head of the class, scooping the pages required for lecture from the overflowing desk, a minute ‘excuse me’ cutting through the thick of his cogged brain. 

“Yes?” Was his response, regurgitated dumbly despite the forming line waiting for him to budge to his waiting seat. 

“Uh...could I get by...papers.” He smiles, unintentional, but the effect is the duck of your head, refusal to meet his eyes under such a heated gaze. He’s left to stare a moment longer before the snag of his sleeve, Hoseok forcing him away, calming the mob of students too impatient to momentarily still for the fruition of his romantic interest. 

Lately, your exit from class seems somehow quicker than usual, the practiced haste too much for him to master, another obstacle to his formal introduction. Though it seems your professor can read the tension that hovers the expanse of the classroom, a thread itching to be linked by two lovers, one unknowing of the delicate pull she has on her soul suitor. 

“Okay!” The professor stands at the front of the room, barely holding the attention of the class, barely holding Yoongi’s attention until he speaks once more. “Instead of a formal midterm, I want you all to complete a joint essay, yes you heard me correctly! I want you to pair up and write an essay on the topic of your choosing—as long as that topic is related to the course.” 

Yoongi perks up, ignoring the telltale that Hoseok hopes to grab him as soon as the class is dismissed because Yoongi has a plan of his own. 

“Of course I won’t force you to choose a partner, I know some of you prefer to work alone. But no more than two people to a group. Now I can see that you’re all on the edge of your seats, but I’m feeling generous today, so you’re dismissed, but your pages are due on my desk beginning of class Monday!” The final words of the professor send the class into frenzy, those who were paying attention quick to grab hold of their half and those who weren’t suddenly catching up and scrambling for someone who’ll make do.

“Hey, we’re partners, right?” Hoseok looks at Yoongi hopeful, but Yoongi already has his sights set on you, watching everyone link up, resigned to working solo. 

“Nah, I’ve got another partner in mind if that’s okay with you.” Hoseok catches the drift rather quickly, wide smile forgoing slight disappointment at his loss of the sure A on his midterm. 

“Go for it,” Hoseok gives a light shove forward, much appreciated by Yoongi whose heart threatens to burst from his chest, sure that the nerves are painted on his face like a slice of Van Gogh. He’s just in time, your hands shoved into your pockets, ready to leave the suffocation of a space smothered in unwelcome. 

“Hey.” Yoongi can see the uncertainty, your eyes glancing to either side to ensure that he is certainly addressing you. 

“Hey…” 

“So, this midterm thing is kinda weird, right?” He can already see the snicker on Hoseok’s face, though his friend is posted at the door opposite him. Your own lips quirk, his only thought of coherency aimed at how cute the action is. You rock on your heels, he notes your style isn’t far off from the bones of Jeongguk, hoodie black and heavy boots ready to stomp through endless waves of the nauseating sea of university. 

“Yeah...I guess it’s a little unconventional. But great for people who get test anxiety,” You humor him, hands withdrawing from jeaned confines to gesture wildly to the room void of anyone but the three remaining vessels, two of which are engaged in unlikely exchange. “Did you need something?” 

“Huh?” 

“Sorry! I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a class to get to and I have a thing about being late. I figure there’s a reason you’re talking to me seeing as we’ve never actually talked before…” You catch yourself in ramble, tripping over phrases whilst Yoongi watches without missing a beat. 

He’s incredibly taken with the way the words flow without pretense, a nice change to the closed off demeanor people falsely associate with you. He would listen for a lifetime to the things you have to say, hopefully with the clasp of finger and longing glances. Your intent is nonsense, nerves eating away at the buds of your tongue. To him it’s a poetry specially curated, a tickle to his throat bringing forth the soft laughter that halts your speech. 

“I’m sorry, you go ahead I’m just...nervous.” 

“No no, don’t apologize, I like listening to you,” He coos when you smile, quick to recover before your eyes, wide and attentive find his own once more, now notably softer, safer. “I love your smile too…” 

“You’re not so bad yourself…” Soft spoken and not altogether sure is the way you speak, your class long forgotten, a blip in rear view shadowed by the shining beacon before you. “So…?”

“Right, right...I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna work together?” Despite compliments and hinted flirtation you’re taken aback by the offer, your eyes skirting Yoongi completely, raising question to the figure station by the exit. Hoseok offers you a smile you can’t help but return his thumbs raising in the affirmative. 

“He’s all yours,” Hoseok assures, taking his leave prematurely, Yoongi still waiting for confirmation. 

“No pressure, just thought I’d ask. I think we’d work well together,” And I wanna know you, he withholds for fear of frightening you more so than the sudden acknowledgement already has.

“Well I don’t know about that, but yeah I’d love to if you’re sure.” 

“I’m positive. Wanna meet at my place after school?” 

“Sounds good.” You pull your phone swiping at the screen before passing it over. “Just text me when you’re free.” 

“I’ll text the address,” He knows it’s unnecessary, just taking precautions to shield from the admission of his eavesdrop the last time you occupied the residence. You wait until you’re once again clutching the spherical confines of your devices, checking and double checking that all digits are present, not unfamiliar with the harsh reality of falsehood buried beneath genuine interest.

“Oh, I actually know where you live. My friend Jeongguk is one of your roommates, so I know my way.” 

“Well I’m sorry we’ve missed each other, that it took me so long to say hello.” Yoongi’s legs lead him half a step closer, an accidentally purposeful close of the gap between, your eyes avoid the bottom half of his face, focusing instead on the bill of his cap and the dark hair tickling the edges. 

“Guess you’ll just have to make up for it somehow.” 

“Guess I will.” 

Your visits to Yoongi are routine over the next week, the laughter filling the hectic halls caused by him rather than his roommates. He’s seen more of you in a week than he could’ve hoped in a lifetime, even more confused about the way you’ve been outcast by a majority of your major. He’s awed by your lack of reaction to the judgement of peers, often citing it as a joke, sarcasm lacing the words. 

It’s the day before assignment is due, you’re perched at Yoongi’s desk, he’s laying on his bed, tossing his basketball in mock free throw simultaneously with his toss of ideas while your fingers type vigorously in final draft. 

This particular evening leaves you alone with Yoongi, the other members of the house trying and failing to convince you to join for their weekly outing to the nearest bar where they would no doubt drink their weight to poorly prepare for the week to come. Yoongi was swift to opt out, much preferring your company to the stench of stale beer and jokes poorly executed by Jin after he downs his fifth shot. 

You were insistent that he let you handle the rest of the paper, just pages standing between you and your final product, but he’s too fond of the way your post-its decorate the shelf over his desk, different colored notes for every paragraph, the ink of your pens highlighting each point in magenta saturation. He’s obsessed with the way you hunch to close to the pages of your textbook while scolding him for getting too close to the screen of his laptop in the next breath. 

He can’t help the thought of what could be, close calls and a hair’s breadth stepping between you all week. It’s the price of seven roommates and a lock loosened with the jiggle of a handle. The hesitancy that still fills your pupils despite the easy way his words lace with genuine interest. 

Yoongi remembered what it was like to notice, deciding that it’s much better to experience you. The moment is delicate, your soft suggestions and argumentative replies tossed with a hint of tease lacing the bite of your tone. He doesn’t try to hide the smile that breaks the mold of his face, lips dampened by the press of gums prominent from healthy reach. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He raises, your fingers slowing against the keyboard, chair swiveling to offer full attention. “Does it bother you...the whole ‘misery chick’ thing?” 

He’s not sure what possesses it, but he is sure that knowing will make things easier, break a barrier that to him doesn’t exist. He knows your breath is baited, knows you’ve been waiting for the pull of the rug, so he offers a tug, a comforting teasing sort of thing to ease your mind and close the gap of misunderstanding that he could never blame you for. 

“Can I ask you a question? Do you believe the whole ‘misery chick’ thing?” You counter, scooting along hardwood until your knees are pressed to his mattress, sinking into the cushioned flesh as far as it allows. Your stare is careful, not expectant of the negative or offended by the positive. “It’s okay if you do, just don’t lie about it.” 

There's a sadness in your delivery and Yoongi notes it immediately. Your attempt to hide the twitch of your lip and the anxious fold of your hands in your lap don’t escape him. Your tone is even, your eyes much the same and he wonders how anyone could ever believe it, he’s grateful that he never did. 

“Not for a second.” He responds almost immediately, waiting for any lingering doubt on your end. It never comes.

“Good.” Is your reply, just as even as the question itself. Your shoulders relax, posture not as stiff as before. “It does bother me, not as much as it used to, but it does. It bothers me that they don’t like that I’m not like them. I don’t mean that in the whole ‘I’m not like other girls’ way, but I’m just not Cathy college, you know? I don’t get excited about parties and drinking, I don’t need to go out all the time to have fun, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you if you do, but I don’t and because I’m not like everyone else I have to be ‘the misery chick’.

He’s sure you don’t realize it, but Yoongi see’s the build of tears in your eyes, unshed but there and it breaks him. Breaks him that something so trivial could be the defining factor of someone’s experience, that you can hide it so well at the cost of your own happiness.

“I mean, it’s college, you’d think that people have better things to do than come up with reasons to ridicule someone, but I guess I have too much faith.” You finish, glancing up to find Yoongi all ears, lips etched in frown. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for all of that.” 

“People suck.” Is all he says, hand extending toward you, inviting you to join him on his island, silent but sure. You crawl the length of the mattress, your back pressing the headboard, fingers laced with his own, warm and sweaty from nerves, yours or his neither of you are sure. 

“People do suck.” 

“I know what’ll make you feel better.” He offers, thumb running along the jagged edges of your knuckle, skin kissing skin. You lift your head, half leaning on his shoulder so your eyes meet, a reflection of picture perfect, a record in perfect sync. 

“Yeah?” 

“You should go out with me.” Yoongi doesn’t expect a snort, but the response is exactly what he receives your head averting to conceal your laughter, hands shielding your face from the expanse of an ego deflated by the graze of your accidental needle. “Why are you laughing?” 

“No I’m not—I just—you’ve been looking at me like I’m completely insane all semester! I didn’t think you liked me, I thought you were looking right through me...I kinda thought you were just coming to class high every day.” 

“I don’t even smoke, those were not the eyes of a stoner, they were the eyes of a man who’s very fond of you.” Yoongi defends his position, his usually dormant stare now bugged to exaggeration, unavailable for serious consideration. 

“My mistake, though I don’t know whether to be weirded out or completely flattered.” 

“You better be so flattered that I can see hearts in your eyes because you were pretty quick to agree to be my partner for this project!” Yoongi keeps the charade, glad to lighten the tension and draw from the heaviness of the previous conversation. It’s not a chapter that’s closed, but the beginning is the build and he’s planning an entire novel with you, so he figures his time isn’t limited by the tick of a clock nearing the midnight hour. 

“I heard I’ve got a sure ‘A’  and I’d be an idiot to pass that up.” 

“You could get a passing grade in your sleep, you can’t fool me. But you can go on a date with me.”

“So you, cool guy Min Yoongi, want to go on a date with me, ‘the misery chick’?” You gasp, hand clutched to your chest, Yoongi’s hand catching hold and bringing it to his own, to the beat of his heart, the bass begging for a melody that only you can satisfy. 

“More than anything.” 

“Well when you put it that way I have no choice but to say yes, but to be clear, I’ve definitely seen you looking at Hoseok with that same look in your eyes so you might wanna sort some stuff out first—”

[bleulone]

Can we talk about about how Colin looked in ep 1 when he first saw Marina compared to how he looked when he saw Pen in ep 8. Almost the exact same look! Of course his look to Penelope is probably more about his guilt because he brushed her off when she tried to warn him but still..progress! Lol and then when he's getting ready to leave for Greece, he glanced towards Penelope's home. I think they're having Colin's feelings for her grow gradually in the show instead of all of a sudden like in the books.

Hey! Thank you for this insightful ask of yours :) Sorry for the late answer, I took a long time to write this— without further ado, here we go!

Indeed, Polin is first and foremost a story of gazes, those gazes being of many natures. Whether they are love ones, friendly ones, admirative ones or lustful ones, looking imposes itself to be a huge parameter in Penelope and Colin’s love story.

In order to understand that on screen, film-making has at its disposal a very rich and smart langage of its own. Sometimes, comparision helps to underlines the differences between one character’s relationship with person A mirorring person B. I feel like Shondaland and Chris Van Dussen wanted to introduce the audience to the evolution of our Bridgerton men’s perception of Love. For instance, while Anthony views attachement— to Siena— as a way to escape his responsibilities before becoming his villain (...until our queen ma’am Kate Sheffield comes to the picture), Benedict doesn’t comprehend this universal concept and prefers to enjoy the many physical pleasures life can offer. In other words, the older brothers already explored their sexuality here and there, making them the infamous rakes that they are. As for Colin, it’s a complete other thing.

Colin is young. Very young. At 21, he’s just left Eton College and barely knows anything of the world nor women. Like Anthony said in 1x06, Colin hasn’t been taken to brothels which is a very important step in the building of young men’s sentimental and sexual education during that time period. Since he missed this essential step, our sweet/immature boy has no clue about how to deal sagaciously with his feelings and his “foolish” impulses, baring his naivety. At this point of the story, we can easily come to the conclusion that Colin is a virgin who can’t drive XD. He’s just a child overcame by his passions, a hopelessly romantic who rushes things without taking the time to properly court or know his significant other. And his off-screen flirtation with those supposed numerous girls in London isn’t of any help to justify his (oh so little) experience. So when he sees Marina, he’s so struck by her... mainly by her alluring appearance. And he doesn’t seem to let his eyes nor mind go beyond her exquisite beauty.

In this perspective, the whole Colin/Marina storyline can be perceived as a parallelism to the Pen/Colin’s one. In 1x01, he is immediatley smitten with a dancing Miss Thompson, which happens to be ironically the same case with a 17 year-old Pen but with him. We got to see her, a few moments ago, dreamily looking at him from the back of the dancefloor (echoeing the episode where she fell madly in love with him after he fell off his horse at Hyde Park). She’s charmed by his dashing look and his kindness, yet she doesn’t seem to know anything else about him considering the rare conversations they share. Her burning gaze fits the original story from Julia Quinn’s books because in Romancing Mister Bridgerton, the 28 year-old spinster Penelope do realize later on that Colin is more than a good looking man : he’s a human who possesses a temper and flaws.

Either way, both of our boos are portrayed as hopelessly young people in love who childishly idealize the objects of their affection.

In 1x08, it’s the other way around. It’s Colin who sees Pen first, her who appears to wear the yellow dress’ lookalike from the pilot—what an interesting call back ^^. With his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide open, we can catch sight of the timid spark of a change in his gaze : Colin Bridgerton notices Penelope Featherington. He‘s touched by the realization that she cares about him. It would be rather inappropriate of me to say that Colin is already in love with her. However, in the finale, I do believe that he’s more struck by her high level of deep care for him than her beauty.

We are thus able to spot two big differences in Colin’s relationship with women in this season : when his attraction to Marina was purely physical and rushed, his attraction with Penelope is more emotional and slow. And for now, he comes to cherish his special bond with her, especially after she tried to warn him of the dangerous trap he was about to fall into. Even if he just sees her as his younger sister’s best friend right now, Pen matters in his life. And it’s still a little yet important progress for sure.

Speaking of which, I agree with you that this look of awe as well as realization is mostly mixed up with guilt. Since he didn’t take into account her words, he felt the strong need to apologize. But bear in mind that guilt formulates a considerable part in Colin’s feelings for Pen... and it’s only the very beginning. In the future, he’ll blame himself for not seeing her as the beautiful goddess and siren that she is in the first place. He’ll blame himself for not reciprocating the feelings for her.... Though at the moment, due to his lack of experience with women, Colin is oblivious to Pen’s obvious signs of sorrow when he told her he’s leaving for Greece/Cyprus. Next time, he’ll detect her sadness and won’t let her go, I’m sure of it (if he doesn’t I’ll riot).

Furthermore, I’m so glad you brought up the scene where Colin glances at the Featherington house. I had the same thought as well. When you put this still and the one where Pen is crying while looking at her window side by side, it even seems like they’re looking at each other. In a way, it implicitly confirms Pen’s key role in his final decision... After all, she’s the one who inadvertently inspired him right ?

The act of traveling has always been seen as cathartic since leaving home to discover yourself allows you to heal your broken heart and soul. It’s natural for Colin to do this. To make his first real steps into the world. His choice is quite relatable more than it is essential for his arc in the series. I can’t wait for him to come back all changed, hot ^^ and mature. I think, like you said, they are planning on making him progressively falling in love with her. Colin’s feelings will gradually leave the platonic zone to explore and officially stay in the intimate zone throughout the seasons.

Overall, the Colin/Marina and Colin/Penelope parallel in s1 mostly helps viewers to compare the way Colin evolves from being a stubborn naive boy to a heartbroken young man who’s aware of his crutial need for Experience. His coming of age, just like Pen’s, has just begun. And they will surely lead to our boy changing himself into the true charming rake that he’s meant to be and our girl into a more confident woman. Consequently, I think their story won’t take 10 years but rather at the very least 5 years perhaps to fit the TV timeline. Once Polin will finally be able to discuss, we’ll hopefully get to see more interesting nuances and shades added to the portrait they painted of one another over the years. They’re indispensable to the slow build up of their emotions/attraction as well as the shattering of their childish idealization/perception of each other.

All in all, I’m so loving the fact that season 1 beautifully sets up the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story. This first installment is like an expository scene of a play. It leaves a trail of clues and pieces of information here and there at the reach every viewers who can pick them up and analyze what can be the main themes which will determine one character’s story arc/romance. With Polin we have : admiration, wit, love and friendship, desillusionment. (I know they are more but it’s all I can think of rn lol).

If we’re already emotional messes just with the mere power of them looking at each other, imagine when they’ll actually talk and share real conversations. It’s going to be a long way to canon but luv me some good fluffy angsty steamy slow burn :) ✨ I hope this long of mine answers your ask ahah, even if I talked about many things other than just Polin’s looks. Also, sorry if you spot some grammatical mistakes, English is not my first language.

[felix21im]

"Ice Cold", a Leon Kennedy x reader fanfiction

As an Art and Design student all you want to do is just knuckle down and finish that one goddamn piece you've been working on for months. Too bad your time is constantly stolen by your Waiter job with minimal pay, but hey, at least the tips are good if you unbutton your shirt that one more time.

Masterlist

Chapter 4: The Party

This chapter is intended for mature audiences (18+).

While the main core of this chapter is gender neutral and SFW, the ending is written for a general female reader. The male reader part will be in the next post separately. If you would like to read neither you will be notified when to click away and when to start reading again.

A few weeks passed after you finished your “passion project”, as Alex and Jordan lovingly called it. You went to visit Leon a few times after that again but he was often out for work, which made it hard to stay in personal contact. You never found out what he did for work and where he went but as soon as he was away from home you felt him changing a little. Even though you mainly texted each other, he sometimes even called you. When this was the case he often was drunk and you wondered if he really went out for work or just to party. As soon as he was back you never had the chance to ask him if he's keeping anything from you. Whenever you tried to talk about the calls or messages he left for you he changed the subject. So you just learnt to live with it because you didn't want to make him mad or be annoyed by you.

Since it was your birthday in only a few days you wondered if Leon forgot his idea of partying at his place. Maybe he wouldn't even be home by then, you thought to yourself.

You were just eating dinner with your roommate Jordan as your phone lit up again. “Let me guess, Leon again?” You checked your phone just to confirm their premonition. You let out a small sigh. “What is it this time? I don’t know about you, but I think he's acting kinda odd lately and I never even met him!”

“Yea, I don't really know either. Maybe he's just overworking or something, I don’t know. I mean, he always liked to drink so maybe too much work doesn't really help with that.” You lay your phone to the side, eating the rest of the food you prepared earlier. It was nothing compared to Angel’s food but it was all you could afford to buy this week. It made you think about that money Leon offered you back then. Maybe declining it wasn't your best idea.

After Jordan and you finished eating and cleaning you went back into your small room and Jordan left the house to meet with a friend. You unlocked your phone again to see what Leon was up to this time. You noticed he had sent multiple messages already, asking if you were ignoring him or whatever. You quickly answered and reassured him that you weren't ignoring or pissed at him. He then asked about your day and what you were up to the next few days. You let out a small laugh. “Hmm, I don´t know.. Maybe celebrate my birthday or something like that.” You were unsure if he was just messing with you or actually forgot about it. You tried to respond calmly but it didn't really work as you hoped it would. Instead you sounded wayyy too ironic and pissed and you were angry at yourself.

You wanted to throw your phone away but Leon answered once again before you had the chance to do so. “I’m just messing with you, Buttercup ;) how could I ever forget your birthday? - Leon”, the message said. You couldn't stay mad for too long, especially not after Leon sent a picture of him after it. You hadn't seen him in so long so you weren't really prepared for what's gonna come. And even if you had seen him before, nothing could have prepared you for this. He sent a picture of himself, probably after working out. He was looking at the camera, his face in bright red and sweat covering his whole upper body. And he wasn't even trying to hide his muscular body. You were unable to move, you didn't even know what to do or say right now. You were happy that Jordan was out of the house right now, that meant you could have some alone time to yourself and that picture…

Another few days flew by and before you knew it, it was your birthday. You were woken up by Jordan, who came into your bedroom singing “Happy Birthday” as loud as they possibly could. You looked at them tired but soon had a smile resting on your face. After Jordan finished singing they came over to give you a nice hug. “Happy 21st birthday! I got us a small cake, we can eat it now if you want. And.. I also got some presents for you!” They pushed you out of the bed and into the small living room.

On the small table was a cake and a few small presents, but the biggest was seated on the old couch. “Leon!”

You had a big smile on your face and practically ran into his arms. “Happy Birthday, Buttercup. I hope my little surprise worked.” You nodded as hard as you could and sat down besides Leon. You opened the presents from Jordan and thanked them for it. Then Leon reached down into a bag that was laying next to his feet. “I also got you something. You’re probably gonna need this today.” You looked at him confused, took the wrapped present and opened it. You felt some kind of fabric on your fingers and pulled it out.

You spread it out before you and realized that Leon had bought you your own suit. You actually remembered a similar one in Leon’s closet back then. “Wow, Leon! This is so pretty, I don't even know what to say!” You went back to hug him again.

“Don't worry about it. Angel actually got you something for it as well. Here.” He gave you another small bag. In it was a purple bow-tie, the exact purple you painted the living room with. In the bag was also a fake clematis, which you could put into your suit jacket pocket.

“This is so nice! Thank you guys so much! I can't wait to wear it.” Jordan and Leon had to laugh because of your excitement.

“Let's eat some cake first, birthday kid, before you mess that new fancy suit of yours up!” Now it was your turn to laugh. You nodded in agreement before sitting back down. Jordan cut the cake in three pieces and each one of you enjoyed their piece of it.

After eating and drinking some tea you gave Jordan your dirty plates so they could clean them up. While they were doing that you grabbed your new suit and went to go into your room. “I'll be back in a few. Please make yourself comfortable and if you need anything, just ask.” You told Leon before leaving the living room and going into yours. You got rid of the pyjamas you were still wearing and put on some fresh underwear.  You then lay the suit on your bed and looked at it in detail. It contained black pants, a white collared shirt with shiny buttons, an almost blackish purple vest and jacket with the fitting bow tie and flower from Angel. You began putting on the pants, followed by the shirt and vest. You then put on the bow tie and went to leave the room with the jacket and flower laying over your arm. Before stepping outside though, you realized you didn't have any fancy shoes that fit your outfit. You decided to just put on some white sneakers, hoping it would look at least kind of okay.

As you left the room you almost walked into Leon, who was standing in front of your door. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if everything was alright..” He looked at you from head to toe. “Wow.. You look wonderful, Buttercup.”

You felt your cheeks heat up once again as you tried to find the right words to thank him. “Thank you so so much, Leon. I don’t think I've ever worn something so fancy and expensive, I really like it.” You looked up to him, a big smile covering your face.

Leon then reached out his hands, fixing your bow tie a little. “I just gotta make sure you look perfect. Now, put on your jacket so I can add that flower and I think then we should be ready to go.” You nodded and he helped you get into the jacket. After that he added the clematis into your chest pocket. He then took a step back looking at you. “This is perfect. Well then, should we go?” He held out his hand for you to take before going to the front door. You grabbed your phone and keys and then left together with him. Jordan was already waiting outside, also wearing a shirt covered by a black vest and some jeans. The three of you then left the building and went to Leon's car.

As you arrived at Leon’s home you already saw multiple people putting up signs or preparing stuff. You looked at Leon shocked, since you didn't think it would be this big of a party. Even Jordan couldn’t stop themself from letting out a surprised “Wow.” You nodded in agreement, unable to find any words. The moment Leon stopped on the driveway you could see Angel coming closer and then opening the car door for you. You thanked her and got out of the car, also thanking her for the presents she got for you. For a short second it seemed that she had a tiny smile on her lips but it happened so fast, you weren't sure if you just imagined it.

You felt a light tap on your shoulder taking you back to the now. “Come with me. I actually got another present for you. But it wouldn't fit in your home.” Leon took your hand and led you through the crowd of people. He then let go of you, standing behind you and covering your eyes. “Do you trust me?” He asked to which you answered with a slight nod. You felt him start walking so you also started going forward. After a short while of walking and taking turns he finally stopped you. He slowly lifted his hands from your eyes and added some dramatic sound effects with his mouth.

As soon as your eyes got used to the light you looked around. You were still outside near the house, but somewhere you never went before. In front of you stood a black car, already showing signs that it wasn't completely new. You turned back to Leon, looking at him confused. “What..What am I supposed to do with this now?” You asked him kind of dumbfounded as if you missed something.

Leon let out a small chuckle while walking to the car and unlocking it. “This, my dear, is your own new car. I mean, not really new, I used it before and it's actually kind of old, but I don't have any use for it anymore.”

You looked at him, still unsure on how to react. “You do know that I don't have a driver's license, right?” You slowly walked toward the car and checked it out.

“Of course I do. But I took care of that as well. A friend from work will be your teacher for a few weeks. You’re going to be getting driving lessons every day and before you know it you can drive all by yourself. I promise you, everything is gonna work out just fine.”

You still looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I- Leon, this is really nice of you but-”

He stopped you before you had the chance to finish that sentence. “-Nope, no buts. I'm giving this to you now and I don't want you to return it to me like that money a few months back. You hear me?” Before being able to argue he threw the car keys over to you, leaving no room for discussion.

You sighed and had to chuckle. “Alright then. Thank you, Leon. I mean it. I don't know how I deserve all this. There's no way I'll ever be able to repay you.”

“That's the reason all these things are gifts, Buttercup. I don't want anything in return. I just like to help you out a little.” He winked at you before taking your hand and leading you back to the main party.

From a few meters away you could see Angel talking to another woman and a man. You recognized the man as the one who was with Leon at that bar a few months back. He was also wearing a fancy suit. The woman next to him was wearing a yellow dress, making her an eye catcher when combined with her pink hair. Leon and you walked right up to them, unfortunately interrupting their conversation. Leon cleared his throat, making your presence known to them. The three of them turned to look at you, realizing who you were. “Happy birthday!” The small woman with the pink hair pulled you into a hug, resting her head on your chest as she rocked you back and forward. “Angel has told me a lot about you!” She said as she pulled away. “Leon’s friend!”

Leon introduced them to you. “This is my colleague Chris and his assistant Daisy.” He pointed toward the two people and gave you a smile.

You let out a small “Hello” before you started talking some more. “It’s nice to meet the both of you.”

“It’s nice to meet you properly.” Chris held out his hand for you to shake and you gladly accepted it. “It’s weird to think that just a simple dinner between Leon and I allowed for the two of you to meet.” He chuckled. Chris then began to talk about how long he and Leon had known each other and that they often go out for “jobs” together. You tried finding out what kind of jobs they were, but never got a serious answer. At one point it was just you Daisy, Angel and Leon. They began to tell you about their relationship and how long the two of them had been together. You had never seen Angel so happy.

After you guys warmed up, Leon left you to stay with them to change as well. The three of you went to the backside of the house to see the preparations that Leon and Angel made. Eventually you ended up sitting down at one of the patio tables with Chris and the two of you drank a glass of champagne together.

You and Chris chatted for a while as you began to see the courtyard fill up with people. You barely recognised anyone and wondered who invited them all. There were college kids and older adults.

After a small while Leon came back to you and Chris, now also wearing a suit that looked identical to yours. You looked at him and couldn’t hide a smile. “Looking good, Mr. Kennedy.” You said to him jokingly.

“I can only return that compliment.” He winked at you. As the last guests arrived, Angel allowed for people to get the fresh food that was just finished up for them. You also got a plate and went to get something nice to eat. You and Leon went up together and he helped you pick out some food, although it was plain you just went for some meat and cheese. After getting your dinner, you and Leon sat down next to Chris on a small table. Soon after, Alex and Jordan also joined filling all your glasses with some champagne they found on their way through the house. You didn't even want to ask where they were sneaking around and just thanked them. Like always, Leon added some ice into his drink before clinking your glasses together. You all then ate and drank together, enjoying each other's company and having a lot of fun. This time you didn't really worry too much about how much you or even Leon had drunk. You were just glad to have a big birthday party with all your new friends.

Once it hit around midnight most of the guests began to leave, leaving only a handful of you left. The evening was really great, you met some new people and also drank a lot. Now you and Alex sat at the edge of the pool with a bottle of beer in each of your hands. You must have been there for a while because at some point Leon came over to tell you to get away from the pool. “C’mon, you’re going to get cold over here.” He held out his hand for you to take but rather than accepting it like always you simply looked at it.

“No.” You replied to him as you looked out towards the pool and you took your shoes and socks off, placing them behind you on the floor. “I’m having a grand ole time over here!” You dipped your feet into the water.

“I don’t want you to fall in.” He crouched down beside you and looked at both you and Alex. “The pair of you are pretty drunk and I’d rather you stay with the adults.”

“I am an adult, Leon.” You turned to scoff at him, pointing your finger in his face. “I’m pretty sure I know how to look after myself. I can make my own decisions, I don’t need your help!”

“Fine.” He stood back up. “Just be careful okay? I’m surprised that no one fell in the pool and I don’t want you to be the person who does it.” He turned around to head back to where he was originally sitting with Chris, beside the giant heat lamp that sat on the patio.

“Oooo, I don't want you to be the person who falls in the pool…” You rolled your eyes at Alex as you mimicked what Leon said. “I won’t fall in.” You chuckled to yourself as you began to take your jacket off. “I’ll willingly go in!” You tossed your jacket over to your shoes and you pushed yourself off the ledge and straight into the freezing cold water. Alex looked at you surprised, then jumped in after you. You could see Chris trying to hide his laugh while Leon looked at you shocked. This wasn't what he expected to happen. He didn't exactly have a plan for his next step, so he just decided to let it happen. So now you and Alex were acting like little kids playing in this big pool. After a while however you were getting bored, deciding to get out of the cold water and drinking another glass of whiskey that stood on one of the tables, just waiting for you guys. You sat down on the garden chair, your new suit completely wet, leaving you freezing cold. Leon already went inside to get you two some towels to get at least kind of dry.

You tried to hide your shivering but after a few minutes Leon noticed it anyway. "You know, I told you it wasn't the best idea to get into that pool, right?" He gave you a smirk, showing that he knew exactly that he was right. You just shook your head, letting some water fly through the air and wetting Chris who was sitting next to you. Leon let out a sigh, standing up from his chair. "Follow me. I'll get you some dry clothes." You let out a groan, feeling like a child the way Leon treated you the last few minutes. Nevertheless you stood up from the place you were sitting, slowly following Leon. You suddenly felt the alcohol you drank in your body making you walk unsteadily. Leon seemed to notice and even though he wasn't exactly sober either he helped you walk. Together you went inside the house and into his bedroom. You tried not to touch anything fearing you would make it dirty, but as soon as you went into his bedroom you couldn't keep your balance anymore. You lay down on his bed, muttering a quiet 'sorry'. Leon didn't seem to care and just went into his closet and grabbed out a single black t-shirt. It was heavily oversized but you still accepted it. It was a combination of you being soaking wet and all of the drinks you’ve had throughout the night but you instantly began to unbutton your shirt and you tossed it to the side of the room, the wet fabric beginning to create a puddle on the carpet. You slid the shirt over your head and then took off your trousers, throwing them onto the pile. “You could have just given that to me. I could have put it down the laundry chute…” He raised his eyebrows as he picked up the wet clothes and threw them into the laundry bin. “C’mon.” He placed his hand on your lower back as he walked you out of the room and back downstairs.

“You’re mad aren’t you?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment from you jumping into the pool only just kicking in.

“Why would I be mad, Buttercup?”

“You told me to come and sit with you and Chris, but noooo I wanted to be stupid and be annoying.” You rolled your eyes at yourself, disappointed that you might have ruined the night.

He let out a small chuckle. "The most important thing is that you have fun, you hear me?" He stopped walking and looked you deep in the eyes. "That's all that matters to me." You instantly got red, unable to move or answer anything to what he just said. “I’m happy if you’re happy.” He placed his hand on the side of your face and stroked your cheek.

As you came back to where Chris and Alex were waiting, you noticed Angel and Daisy had joined them as well. They were talking a bit, well mostly Chris and Daisy anyway. Alex seemed too tired and drunk to even add anything to their conversation. When you were sitting down again Chris just got up to leave. "It was really nice getting to know you. But Daisy and I will go back to our hotel now, we have something to do tomorrow. Maybe we can have an evening like this someday again." You gave Chris and Daisy a goodbye-hug and they went to leave. Angel accompanied them to their Taxi they must have called when you were changing your clothes upstairs. After that she went inside, already cleaning up some parts of the house. Alex decided to also go inside, not helping Angel but rather to get some sleep. That was probably the only good idea they had in that state. You sat down on the garden bench taking another sip of your drink. Leon placed himself next to you, also drinking another glass of whiskey.

FEMALE VERSION (starting now)

MALE VERSION

It was just the two of you now. “Thanks for the party, Leon.” You looked up and smiled at him and he looked down and did the same. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or maybe the hypothermia sitting in but you felt so hot looking at his face so closely. “I’ll be sure to remember it.”

“Are you sure you’re not too drunk to remember?” The smell of whiskey from his breath filled your nostrils and sent a warm feeling down your spine. Even though your soaking wet hair was keeping you cold, you felt so warm next to Leon. You simply let out a small chuckle at his little joke.

Leon held his arm around your waist, pulling you more onto his lap and allowing for you to lean on his chest. Your hair drenched his shirt, his fancy branded dress shirt. Once you realised what you had done you pulled away from him and apologised. “Oh god. I’m sorry, Leon.” You pulled the towel off of your shoulders and began to dab it on his chest, only making it worse. All you were doing was spreading it and making his shirt even more see-through, you would have been lying if you said you didn’t like what you saw.

“It’s fine.” He chuckled at you. “I’ve been wanting to take this shirt off all evening, it’s starting to irritate me.” He slightly leant forward so that he was no longer leaning on the back of the chair but also making sure that you stayed on his lap. With one hand he undid the buttons on his shirt while the other was placed on your hip, making sure that you didn’t fall. You watched him closely as he undid his buttons, even helping him with the very few that he struggled with. The only time he let you go was to allow for him to slide the sleeve off of his arm, but he instantly put his hand back, with slightly more grip than before, making your ass go slightly numb. Yet again, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.

“Can I ask for one last birthday present?” You were shocked with yourself when you said that. The words came tumbling out of your mouth without any thought.

Leon placed his drink on the armrest of the chair and then placed his hand on your thigh. “And what is that, Buttercup?” He asked.

“I-” You swallowed hard, not being able to stop what you were about to say, it was like you were possessed. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Huh?” He answered. You knew he heard you, he just wanted to be a complete asshole. “I’m getting old, my hearing isn’t quite what it used to be.

“I said. I want you to fuck me, Leon.” You repeated yourself.

“Oh really?” He raised his eyebrows at you as he smirked. “Where’s your manners, Buttercup? I mean you’re going to have to ask a bit more politely than that.”

You were a bit taken back by Leon’s response, you were half expecting to be thrown onto his driveway and being told to never come back. But you were excited that you got a different reaction. “Please Leon. I want- I need you to fuck me.” You stuttered as you talked due to him sliding his hand up your thigh, playing with the fabric of your short mini dress. “I’ve been wanting you ever since you sent me that photo of you while you were away.”

“Did you touch yourself to that photo?” He asked you, correctly thinking that you had. You simply nodded at him, unable to get any words out as his hand was completely under your oversized shirt, fiddling with your skimpy underwear. “And you didn’t even think to ask for any more photos?”

“I didn’t want to overstep.” You admitted, shyly looking down.

He whistled at you as he didnt want to move either of his hands. “You could never overstep, Buttercup.” He hooked his finger around the side of your underwear and pulled it down your legs. “If you want anything from me, you can always ask.” He gave you a wink as he twirled your underwear around his finger, followed by him then throwing it onto the table in front of you. “What can I say?” He let go of your hips and placed his hand on the back of your head, slowly pushing you towards his face. As he was doing so his other hand felt like magic to you, his large fingers slowly caressed you and massaged your inner thigh. “I'm a giver.” He winked as he kissed you heavily. The both of you letting out the stress that neither of you knew you had, both of your shoulders untensing and collapsing. Your entire body had melted around him, you were like a puppet being played by his strings.

“Go on.” You heavily whispered to him.

He chuckled as he continued to kiss you, his stubble tickling your face. As you were preoccupied with his face, his fingers slowly but surely inserted their way into you, gracefully pumping in and out of you. “Are you alright?” He asked after he noticed your face was a little uncomfortable.

“Yes, yes.” Your breathing was heavy and you did feel uncomfortable, not because of Leon, but because you were anxious. “I- I’m just nervous.”

“What’s there to be nervous about?” He asked as he pulled a strand of hair out of your face.

“I’ve never done this before.” You admitted to him, but he didn’t seem phased, if anything he was excited.

“And?” He stroked the side of your face. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

You felt relieved at his response, and you began to relax, letting Leon do his thing. As he slowly moved his fingers in and out of your body his thumb slowly ran circles on your clit, sure you had done this by yourself when your roommate wasn’t home but Leon was making you feel things you had never felt before. It felt different with another person doing this to you, you were used to knowing exactly what was about to happen as you were the one in control, but now? Leon has you by the strings.

Leon kept the slow pace, not speeding up and not slowing down. He wanted for you to orgasm but he didn’t want you to do it too fast. As your breathing became heavier, so did Leon’s, you could feel his cock aching under your leg. If his pants weren't such high quality you wouldn't be surprised if he would have ripped them right then and there. You leant on Leon’s shoulder as your stomach began to tie into knots, your head was buried into his neck and you quivered on him as you began to orgasm, cum absolutely drenching both his finger and his leg. Although you were a little embarrassed at the mess you had made, Leon assured you that it wasn’t a worry. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you to make sure that he wouldn't hurt you at all. “Are you okay, Buttercup?” Just that nickname alone made you want to orgasm all over again. You simply nodded, and once you opened your eyes you saw him pull his fingers out of his own mouth, then putting them back under your shirt and drenched his fingers yet again but this time he put them in your mouth. You tasted your own cum and you weren't sure what it tasted like, you just wanted to lick his fingers not your own cum.

He eventually pulled his fingers out of your mouth and smirked at you. “Do I get to give you a handjob now? Is that how it works?” You asked him, earning a small smile and a laugh.

“No.” He simply replied as he scooped his arm under your legs and the other one on your back. “It’s your party, and I'll make you cry if I want to.” He placed you down onto the seat where he was just sitting and he knelt down on the floor.

“Wha-?” He interrupted you by leaning forward and kissing you, as he did so he spread both of your legs open using your knees. “Oh!” You chuckled as he went back down to his knees, giving you a smirk as he went down. Leon kissed his way up your thighs, sucking and biting every inch of you while he made his way towards your clit. You couldn’t help but fidget as he tickled you from his light stubble, causing him to laugh and him tickling you even more. Eventually you calmed yourself down as the only thing you could focus on was Leon’s tongue and his large nose. You looked down at him and the only thing you could see was the top of his head, his hair slightly moving back and forward. As Leon worked his magic you didn’t know what to do with your hands, you kept one on the arm of the chair, gripping it around the glass that Leon had placed there earlier, your other hand moved down your own body and you tangled it in Leon’s hair, grabbing onto it hard.

“Be careful.” He pulled away and breathed heavily. “You’re going to pull all of my hair out.”

You were taken back by his heavy breathing. “Can you even breathe down there?” You asked, genuinely concerned for him.

He chuckled and brushed his nose with his finger. “I’m fine. If I can’t breathe I’ll just pull away.” You nodded at him and he gave you a small smile before going back down, you made sure to loosen your grip a little on his hair, you sufficed to just slowly running your fingers through his locks.

You tilted your head back, banging it on the chair but you ignored it. Your body was too focused on trying not to suffocate Leon as he made you feel special. You shuddered, and flinched forward, holding both of your hands in Leon’s hair. He chuckled at your reaction and the small vibrations that came from his mouth were what sent you over the edge, your body continued to shake, wave after wave as you came on his face. You felt his tongue licking up all of it.

He pulled away and sat back, leaning against the coffee table. “How was that?” He asked. He looked at the watch on his wrist and then to his left at the sky. “How about we continue this in the bedroom?” He suggested as he stood up and held out his hand for you. “Angel wakes up at the same time everyday and I’m sure you don’t want her interrupting us.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you accepted his hand, standing up on your own two feet felt a little disorienting, from the combination of how much you had drank throughout the night and what Leon just did to you, but he made sure that you could walk. He led you up to his bedroom again, making this a night to remember.

BACK TO THE MAIN STORY

The next morning you were already sitting downstairs in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. Your hangover made your head pound with every move and you thought you were just gonna end up vomiting on the kitchen floor. Leon was still in a deep sleep when you got up that morning so you didn’t want to disturb him by telling him your issues.

You were sitting there, wondering what's gonna happen next. You let the past night play through your head a few more times, wondering if it was a one time thing or meant something more. You let out a deep sigh, instantly regretting it and massaging your forehead.

You didn't notice Angel coming into the kitchen, asking if you were alright. You told her about your headache and severe nausea and she reached into a tall cabinet, pulling out a pill bottle. “Here.” She passed two of the pills and a bottle of water. “This should help, but be careful because it’s going to make you kind of tired.” You thanked her and swallowed the pills without question, followed by downing the entire bottle of water.

You sat beside the window with a large mug of coffee that you made for yourself, looking at the heavy rain that pelted against the window, just thinking about the possible outcomes now. It wasn't like you were regretting the past night, you just never had an experience like that.

Just after hearing a deep cough from behind you, you were taken back to reality. "Angel told me you were feeling sick, is everything alright?" You turned around, seeing Leon stand in the door frame. You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.

"Yea.. it's just, well.. I don't really know actually." You took another sip from your coffee and felt Leon taking a seat next to you.

"Is it because of what happened last night?" He looked at you worried, scared that he might have taken it too far back then. You tried explaining it to him, failing miserably. “Are you embarrassed to be with an old man like me?” Leon put himself down. You shook your head, too hard making you feel sick again but you tried to ignore it.

"That's not it.. I'm just.. I don't want this to be just another one night stand to you. I don't know what I want but-"

“I won’t abandon you, if that is what you’re scared of.” Leon looked at you seriously and took your hand in his. You weren't really sure if there was still some alcohol inside your body controlling your actions, but you brought your head closer to his. You weren't really sure what it was between you and Leon, but you knew you were way more than just friends.

You felt Leon's hand on your cheek, also getting closer to you now. You closed your eyes waiting for him to take the next step. And before you realized it, you felt his soft lips resting on yours sending butterflies through your entire body. You smiled into the kiss, leaning closer to him.

“This is just like the movies huh?” He chuckled.

----

Taglist: @trinswhimsys @dixanadu

[sumsebien]

by design prologue // Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: y/n and friedrich find out who exactly they are betrothed to

word count: 2,6k

warnings: bad parenting

a/n: this is the 5th time i have rewritten this how crazy and has been changed 3 times since i posted that sneak peak :)) i am nuts. also, i am running out of gifs so i am working on a collage i promise

When Friedrich Wilheim Ludwig was born, his father had asked his advisors to draw up a route. Friedrich would study in Prussia, marry a Prussian lady and ascend to the throne as a true son of this great nation, like all of his predecessors.

What he did not plan, however, was that his wife, Frederica had no intention of continuing that tradition. Frederica had other plans for her son. She wanted Friedrich to be the man he wanted to be, not the prince or the king that his father wanted him to be.

She did everything in her power to teach her son just that. Before anything, he was a human being first. Not his title, not the heir, a person.

The King, had he stayed at home for more than a day, would have seen that Friedrich was shaping into a different man than his father had envisioned. He was independent, easygoing and humble.

When the King did realize it, it was too late. It was the summer before Friedrich was to enter a prestigious Prussian university. His aunt Charlotte came to visit with an invitation for his son to study at Cambridge. The King laughed, there was no way his son wanted to go there. Then the next morning, Friedrich had gotten everything ready to go, he was dead set on Cambridge.

There was nothing more the King could do.

The next thing he knew, his son wanted an English wife. It was a complete disaster. And it was all his incompetent wife’s fault. “Let him live on his own. Get all the reckless impulses out,” she said. Stupid women.

“My love, whatever is bothering you.”

The King looked over to his side, meeting the eyes of his mistress. Sweet Bernadine. She was the only thing he looked forward to all day. “Friedrich. He’s not accepting any of the women he was supposed to marry.”

“And why, may I ask?”

“Because they are not his type. Nice sensible Prussian girls. What is wrong with him? He asked me for a deal. Ridiculous!”

“Maybe you should agree.”

“That is the most absurd thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Is it?”

What the King was going to find out was that Bernadine had a sister who became a Duchess in England. And she had all the gossip sources in the world. She knew absolutely everything about the ins and outs of the ton and she had a beautiful daughter, unwed.

The English girl his son had been eyeing was already in love with someone else. And Friedrich did not seem like the type to force her into a marriage against her will.

If he took his son up on that deal, he’d win.

...

One can count on many things in life. For the ton, it is that grief will not put a stop to Lady Trowbridge’s annual balls. The recently widowed lady’s celebration seemed to be even more flamboyant than when her dear husband was still alive.

And even more scandalous.

Last night, the Incomparable of the season was seen changing her horses in midstream.

To refresh your memory, dear readers, Miss Bridgerton caught the eye of the Duke of Hastings at the beginning of the season. However, for reasons unknown, the Duke was hesitant in asking for her hand, letting Miss Bridgerton slip from his grasp into the hands of a Prince. Our most promising Debutante was then seen exclusively with the Prince of Prussia-the royal suitor of our dreams at balls and promenades for the whole of last week. It would also appear that the Duke had moved on with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence and heiress to their lush family fortunes.

There were talks today that both men might even take their final steps in securing a ring on their ladies’ fingers by the end of the night.

Miss Bridgerton did emerge from the Trowbridge estate engaged. But not to whom we thought she would. It was the Duke of Hastings that captured the heart and hand of the Diamond of the Season. Miss Y/L/N and Prince Friedrich were both left empty-handed.

This Author is seasoned enough to say she is not easily shocked by scandals nowadays. However, that is not to say the events that transpired last night didn’t raise her eyebrows.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

...

“Your Highness. Pst. Your Highness!”

Friedrich sighed, turning over in hopes silence would return to him. He had just fallen asleep finally. It couldn’t possibly be morning already.

“Your Highness.”

The voice grew from a whisper to a normal speaking voice which was too loud for someone who was hoping for silence. He peaked open one eye and closed them again after he recognized the familiar face of his valet, Heinrich.

“Not now. I am sleeping.”

“Your Highness, it’s urgent.”

“It can wait until I wake up.”

There was a pause. “It’s your father, sir.”

Friedrich sighed. “Then it can definitely wait.”

Getting out of this bed would be to accept the truth. He should have known that his father would always get his way. But that was definitely for later. Right now, sleep.

Friedrich waited for the sound of footsteps and the click of the doors so that he could finally get the peace he was aching for. But it never came, which meant: ”Why are you still here, Heinrich?” he mumbled into the pillow.

No answers came.

Friedrich groaned and sat up.

Of course, Heinrich was still there. At the sight of the Prince finally giving in, Heinrich rushed to open the blinds but was stopped by the hand Friedrich raised. “If you want to wake me up and listen to what my father has to say, you’ll leave those curtains alone.”

“Very well, sir,” Heinrich nodded, folding his arms behind his back and cleared his voice. “Your betrothed is Lady Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence. Your father also asked that you confirm a couple of details for your wedding at Sanssouci Palace.”

“I am not getting married at Sanssouci.”

“Sir, I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Heinrich, I will not look at his smug face when he sees that he has won. I will get married here.”

“But you leave today.”

“Then I will marry before I leave.”

Heinrich had been his valet ever since he moved to England. At first, Friedrich thought Heinrich was spying on him and reporting all of his activities to his father. But after one incident which involved a very drunk Friedrich, a lost key, Friedrich trusted Heinrich with his life. They had even grown to become close friends.

“Very well, sir. I will get the carriages ready.”

Before Heinrich left, he placed a small stack of paper on the desk, telling Friedrich to read it. There were numerous types of documents, all on the Lady Y/N Y/L/N, his betrothed.

Friedrich flipped through as he continued on with his morning routine.

Highborn. Excessively rich. The typical lady of the ton. So far there was nothing that gave Friedrich a reason not to dread his future. Because there was probably nothing. He thought bitterly.

When Friedrich suggested the deal, he didn’t think he’d lose. If Friedrich found himself a wife by the end of the London season, he would get to marry her. If he did not however, his father would have every right to intervene.

How hard could it be to fall in love?

As it turned out, it was not. It was quite simple. He met her, spoke to her and knew. He loved her the moment she laughed ridiculously loudly at his compliment. Her hair, her eyes and of course her laugh which very much alarmed the Queen. She wished to have a large family, like he always wanted as a kid but never got. She was wonderful at conversations. She was perfect...well she would have been perfect, had she been in love with him.

Now, he had lost both the girl and control of his fate. He was now doomed to live the rest of his life with a choice made by his father. Someone who was definitely pretentious, incurious and worshipped titles-everything his father wanted in a wife. Friedrich knew his father would have done anything for his mother to be like that. He felt fortunate that she had never been and never would be one of those things.

Now he could only hope his future children were going to be half as lucky.

...

You were stirred from a dreamless night of sleep by the click of the doors. Truthfully, you hadn’t been sleeping that well these past few days, even the slightest of noises could wake you. You prompted yourself up on your elbows, seeing Olivia-your lady’s maid at the door. She peeked her head in, only coming in when she saw that you were awake.

“Do you have my Whistledown?” was the first thing you asked.

It had become your custom. Your mother wouldn’t let you read the words of that vile woman, lest you learn from the actions of those scandalous ladies. She always acted as though she was above gossip when the entire ton knew the centre of her existence was the scandalous tales told behind the curtains at Madame Delacroix’s fitting room.

Olivia handed you the papers and rushed to your dresser, digging for a dress. “You must be quick. They are asking for you in the drawing room. I told them I was coming to get you.”

You immediately jumped out of bed, knowing your father’s temper all too well. “They’re home again?”

Olivia nodded. “Another cook has been fired. I am scared I might be next.”

That was odd, to say the least. Everything around the house had been a little off lately. Normally, from the moment you woke up until afternoon tea was served, you had all the peace and quiet to yourself. Both of your parents usually left by this time, your father was with his business partners and your mother with Madame Delacroix and her gossip sources. A couple of household staff had also been sacked. It was probably because your father had been even more quick-tempered lately.

Or could the events of last night be the cause?

You knew they were disappointed when you came home without an offer from the Duke of Hastings. But the season hadn’t ended yet. There was still time to consider your other suitors. Besides, it was absolutely no surprise that his heart had belonged to Miss Bridgerton. The dances and the flowers he gave you were nothing more than politeness and perhaps to sooth the jealousy he felt seeing his love with another man. A Prince for that matter.

You got ready quickly, racing down the stairs. At the sound of your footsteps, your mother swung the door open and tugged on your wrist.

“Quickly!” she spat and gave Olivia a glare before closing the door in her face.

Your father sat with his eyes closed, barely breathing. He was completely still, almost statue-like.

“Darling,” your mother chirped, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to send some life into him. He opened his eyes. Dull grey, stern and void of hope or happiness.

You knew this look. It had been the source for all of your childhood terror, the look of disappointment and ominous news.

“Get ready. You’re marrying the Prince of Prussia.”

You choked back a breath, feeling all of your blood draining from your face to your neck. You felt like you were burning but at the same time freezing cold. You couldn’t say anything. Not just because you were speechless. You were not allowed to. The only thing you could do was nod, say ‘yes, sir’ and do exactly as you were told.

You were their only daughter.

Throughout your childhood, your father made no attempts to hide his disappointment in you. And your mother was always too afraid to ever do anything. She couldn’t give him another child so they had to learn to tolerate you. They would rarely take you with them anywhere. It was as though you had never existed. You’d always feel proud after finishing a piano piece or after a painting was fully colored but they never cared. For a long time you thought that all parents acted this way, that it was normal. It wasn’t. Other parents took their children to the park, bought them puppies when they succeeded. For you, it was your job and you got no pay, no praise. Nothing. Ever.

You accepted that because there was no other way. And at some point along the way, you stopped looking for their approval. It didn’t mean that they stopped having control over you though. If you wanted a peaceful life, you had better obeyed.

...

Friedrich pulled on his gloves as they made their way quickly into the abbey.

He hated being late and he was late. They were running behind schedule too. Had Friedrich not squeezed a last minute wedding ceremony, he would have already left for Prussia by now.

Needless to say, there was no time for a traditional ceremony. They were getting in and out of the abbey in half an hour or else they would have to wait until tomorrow for another ship.

At the end of the aisle, Friedrich was greeted by his father’s old friend and his future father-in-law, the Duke of Clarence. The man was the picture of a typical aristocratic Englishman with his hair styled neatly, a cane in his hand. Next to him was the Duchess of Clarence, a lanky woman with hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. There was an air of intimidation about them. Friedrich did not know enough to be afraid of them, though, he could imagine most of the ton were.

“Welcome, your Highness. It is a pleasure to see you again.” He bowed his head. “You’ve certainly grown since the last time I saw you at Sanssouci Palace.”

Friedrich only smiled. He did not remember ever meeting the man at all but did not mean to be impolite.

The Duchess spoke in a sweet voice, extending her arm towards the door. “Well, come, Y/N! We shouldn’t keep his Highness waiting for long.”

Friedrich felt his throat closing as his heart picked up its pace. It wasn’t the good kind of nervous butterflies one got from being near their beloved, it was anxious anticipation for his fate to be revealed.

From behind the archway came a beautiful young lady. He recognized you. You had briefly met before at the Salisbury ball before but never engaged in a dance.

“My Lady.” Friedrich bowed his head.

You were a little distracted, as if you did not hear him at all. He smiled, about to greet you again when the most bizzare thing happened.

Your father cleared his voice and flicked his cane against the skirt of your dress. That snapped you right out of your daze, your eyes lowered immediately as you bent your legs into a curtsy like a well-oiled machine. “Your Highness.”

Friedrich could not believe his eyes.

He turned to Heinrich to find his friend’s eyebrows tipped inwards. So it wasn’t just him who saw the strange way your father treated you. Like some kind of circus animal.

Friedrich nodded to you but kept a close eye on your father. The man smiled when he caught Friedrich staring. But there was something eerie about it. His mouth stretched into a smile but his eyes stayed stern.

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[rrasado]

Are you comfortable with uh- doing the obey me demon bros reacting to an MC who has DID having the bros as an introject alter? You dont have to if ur not comfy tho ofc

Which You Are You

I’m telling you all now I am no way experienced in writing about themes like this, nor do I experience this myself/know someone who does, I'm only relying on what I have from research so if you happen to find any offenses, mistakes and or misconceptions please don’t be afraid to tell me so I can fix it! Thank you dears. 💙🌒💙

Mentions of: Mental Illness

When you have Dissociative Identity Disorder: (under the cut)

Lucifer

Whether it was listed in your document in preparation for the exchange program or not. The first born will also be the first one to actually catch on to your condition.

But the How part is a bit...slow even for him. At first it might've started when he'd hear small talk from Mammon his brothers concerning the exchange student. Given your blank nature during first impressions he was not expecting to hear words of comparison between you and him.

Initially he was at least delighted, another responsible figure in the House of Lamentation instead of another person to look after? His wishes have been granted- that is...until he realizes he rarely sees these so called similarities between you two when he himself is with you.

After nitpicking whether he's being pranked by his brothers or you. He'll come to decide that observing you himself will be the best course of action. And in his observations did he find out what's truly at play.

"You humans tend to succumb to all sorts of hindrances... we must tend to this efficiently"

He'll ultimately end up being your personal tracker in some sense, especially with you having alters akkined to his brothers, he's the best at dealing with every single you. He may not voice it as much but he's come to grow a soft spot for you, after all... you make him remember what it's like to deal with his brothers when they aren't busy talking behind his back. A bittersweet mutual benefit noh?

Mammon

If Lucifer wasn't the fastest to catch on, Mammon would've been the next contender. The guy spends the most time with you, so expect him to actually vocally point out the eerily different behaviors you display in different times. Especially when your certain Lucifer alter comes out to scold him.

Only when he ranted to the poor avatar of wrath did he consider that this little quirk of yours might actually be more than just, well...a quirk.

Tries making it a game on which alter is currently out, he's correct 50% of the time. But hey at least he's trying-

Will not hesitate to put any lower level demons at school back in their place for making fun of you.

"OI! Ya'll are just cowards hiding behind the damned walls! Well newsflash you bastards wall can talk!-"

Believe it or not, he'd be the first one to actually get used to your condition. And whe that fact comes to light god- he won't shut up about it. Who else would understand the human most? None other than the great mammon of course!

Leviathan

Levi...surprisingly thought of the possibility the fastest- but he's one of the last ones to actually let it sink in. He probably thought of the possibility because he saw it in an anime once, the main character used their multiple personalities with different powers and- wait he's ranting.

on a more serious note, the only reason he doesn't get the hang of you the fastest is because he kept comparing your alters with character he know, which would sound helpful but- he misses his shot when interacting with you a lot, easily slipping and thinking you're the character and not- you.

But once he does, it's as easy to him as completing a cunning minigame puzzle in a video game. As long as he executes the right keys he'll be fine, right?

Ah levi...that's only if you know which one you're talking to. But when he hears of one alter that oddly acts like him? He'll finally learn how to slowly deal with, himself..?

"Eh? This is like dealing with a mimikyu...hm? ah-"

Overall he's on the "finds your condition dope" side of the spectrum, but that doesn't mean he dismisses the struggles that come with it, he may not be the first person you'd go to when seeking help but when you do...he'll at least open his door for you.

Satan

In his case the only reason he wasn't the first to pin point what's really at play is because he doesn't spend as much time with you as the others. His only basis for making a conclusion are your short morning greetings and when you see each other at the RAD halls.

And since he only has little basis, the realization only strikes him when he hears talk from his brothers how you acted in class with them. Cue to the fourth getting confused because hey you just said good morning to him and you didn't act that way- wait a damn minute..

"I hope this doesn't come too sudden but, would you like to hang out more?"

His hypothesis gets confirmed the more he spends time with you, and unlike the first born, he smartly deals with you via logical reasoning, especially when your more childish alters come out? He'll squint to see any patterns he can concoct counters for in any given situation.

In short, the man is a living breathing clip board of your situation. The others know they can't ask lucifer for advice despite knowing he's the one who absentmindedly deals with you the best, so they turn to the avatar of wrath much to his dismay for insight on you.

Asmodeus

The Avatar of lust is the last to adjust to you, most likely because he doesn't really pay attention to your behavior and mannerisms unless it's posture and if it affects your overall projection.

Deals with it the... least effectively, no asmo you don't- give special clothes and makeovers per alter- though the sentiment is very much appreciated.

Asmo is asmo he'll deal with it in his own style, which again isn't the best way to deal with it but- He's trying, trust me he really is. It shows when he finally gets the tick to ask satan.

And as such expect slow subtle changes with how he treats you, he doesn't wanna make his favorite human uncomfortable! But I think he's the best at relaxing you after a draining experience with one of your more energetic alters.

"Dear you should sit down for a bit- Here let me take care of you"

Depending on where you manifested your disorder from, he'll try to take it slow and easy for you, besides, he knows that there's more to you to unpack, but he's determined to fully accommodate you! no matter which you.

Beelzebub

The way Beel finds out is so odd and yet so unsurprising...and how you may ask? Food.

I meant- with him associating 90 percent of everything with food, he might find out when he takes note of what and how much you eat. He'll have a variety of snacks at the ready, depending how or even if you approach him for some, he'd be initially confused, except for when your alter similar to him comes out. He doesn't question your enthusiasm.

The thing that puts the final nail in the coffin is actually when Belphie points it out to him. He was prepping well trying to not eat food for you when belphie asks him what he's making, he says your favorite food and belphie would grumble how you have so many favorites.

Beel initially dismisses it because hey he has so many favorites to but here he was. But the more he thinks about it the more it connects- which led him to seek none other than the avatar of wrath himself.

"Hey...what are you craving for right now?"

That question doubles as his test for figuring which you is out, depending how and what you answer, his choice of treating you narrows down. Suffice it to say despite being the weirdest method- he's the third one that deals with you the best.

Belphegor

H...he actually accepts it the fastest- despite not being the first to figure it out, he comes into terms with it in the shortest timespan compared to all his brothers.

And just like his twin, he finds out how to deal with you with the most uncanny test- your sleep schedule.

There may be times where you sleep like a log, other nights you stay up longer than the first born. No matter what he'll deal with you to best he can in the moment...assuming he's awake.

He only concerns himself even more when his pillow ended up with you, your alter similar to him opted for that black and white pillow which ultimately ended up with you two napping and sharing said pillow.

"Hng...you're..awake..? How did you sleep..?"

Yes, there may be times he wishes to talk back to mammon's claims of dealing with you the best. but as long as he can interact with whichever you without hitch, he's content.

As I’ve said at the top, please don’t be afraid to tell me any mistakes. I wish to provide without offending nor demeaning anyone. And I won’t mind taking this down if it’s called for, thank you again dears. 💙🌒💙

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

An old friend - Part 2

Summary: You've been invited for tea at the Bridgerton's household. You'll meet some new faces and perhaps dig in the past with your host...

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!reader

Other characters: Benedict Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Gregory Bridgerton, Hyacinth Bridgerton

Warnings: looooots of yearning, face touching (?) if this counts as warning

Words: 3.6k+

A/n: I wasn't planning on doing a second part but here we are! I know it's long, and the start can feel a bit slow, but stick until the end; things get interesting there😏😉

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

As you stepped down the carriage, your eyes were immediately drawn to the facade of the house: even though you weren't a child anymore it still looked majestic to your eyes. The lilac wisteria hanged from the red terracotta wall, swinging his blooming flowers just above the door, giving the compound that vibrant hint of colour that you remembered.

When you heard the wheels of your carriage move against the pebble, you decided it was time to enter the Bridgerton's household. However, you soon realized that your feet were seemingly planted in the ground just before the gates of the estate.

Nervously holding your shaking gloves near your lap, you tried to calm down that sudden wave of anxiety. You truly had nothing to be worried about: your hosts were some of the kindest human beings you had ever met and the house was no stranger to you either. Nonetheless, war drums started playing in your chest at the thought that Anthony was waiting for you inside...

"Can I help you, miss?"

You turned towards the voice that called you back to reality to be met with the tall figure of Benedict. "Mr. Bridgerton"

He bowed as you curtseyed. "Well, this is embarrassing" he muttered, taking off his hat with an apologetic smile. "You know my name, but I don't know yours... should I know you, miss?"

You smiled back, shaking slightly your head. "Probably not, sir. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. I believe I am awaited for tea this afternoon: Lady Bridgerton invited me at last night's ball"

"I recall Anthony mentioning something about a guest..." he started but shrugged afterwards, "however I wasn't listening". His green eyes moved on you, squeezing slightly as they took in your features. "I beg you forgiveness in advance if I'm mistaken, but do you appear to be that little girl that used to play with Anthony when he still possessed a sense of humour?"

You hardly stopped a laugh from escaping your lips. "I shall not know, did Lord Bridgerton used to entertain himself with many young ladies when he was young himself?"

Benedict shook his head, still smiling. "Not that I can remember"

"Then that's probably me" you confirmed, chuckling slightly as the weight on your stomach eased considerably.

"I shall not believe that! The world is much smaller than I thought it was". He rubbed his cheek, his face lit by shock and delight. Then, looking at the front door and then back at you: "Why then were you standing here like a statue?"

At his question you lowered your gaze to your hands, not as shaky as before but still partly trembling. When you opened your mouth to reply, no rational answer came out from your parted lips.

Thankfully, Benedict seemed to notice your distress and simply took your arm in his. "Admit it" he said, smiling cheekily and guiding you inside, "you were waiting for me just to escort you inside. Isn't that right?"

With a giggle you nodded. "You uncovered my plan, sir. I shall hope it remains a secret between the two of us"

Benedict opened the door for you. "I'll take it to the grave, miss Y/L/N"

You flashed him one last smile before your eyes wandered on the interior of the household, leaving you speechless: everything was exactly where your clouded memories placed it, with few errant exceptions, like the china vase in the vestibule or the tiny pottery work on the table next to the door of the drawing room.

It felt almost unreal, like walking in a dream made long time ago... nonetheless, the way your heart jumped in your throat when you saw Anthony slouching on a couch near the window felt very much real to you.

"Miss Y/L/N". When Violet's voice reached your ears she was already in front of you, taking your arm to drag you away from her second-born. "It is a delight to see you again so soon. I believe you haven't met my youngest children, Gregory and Hyacinth".

The two siblings looked at you, Hyacinth smiling fascinated while Gregory was subtly munching something.

You smiled at them. "It's a pleasure to meet you"

"Miss Y/L/N, could I ask you something?"

Your eyes fixed in Hyacinth's, wide with curiosity. "Of course"

She took some steps towards you and you bent down so that she could cup your ear. "Is it true that you and Anthony made all the nurses go mad when you were our age?"

"Who told you that?" you whispered back, grinning. "We made them go mad when we were much younger than you"

Hyacinth covered her mouth, giggling silently as she went back next to her brother. Gregory, still looking at you, finally gulped down his food and turned to his mother. “Can we go play outside now, mama?”

With a sigh and a gesture of her hand, Lady Bridgerton released her youngest from the strings of formality and you watched them running one after the other out of the drawing room.

“Pardon their impatience” sighed Violet, sitting on the sofa next to her. She seemed terribly tired and you couldn’t imagine otherwise: if the other Bridgertons were half the troublemakers you and Anthony were, you were surprised the household was still intact.

You took a seat next to her, your back straightened as a greek column. “There is no need to apologise, I do envy their freedom” you admitted as your gaze fell in your lap. “They should enjoy every moment they have left before they come of age”

“From your tone, miss Y/L/N, it transpires the belief that there is no freedom in our society whatsoever”

You turned to Anthony, now seated a little more properly on the couch. His eyes locked in yours terribly easily, as they already possessed the key to your soul.

"Not if one wants to be accepted by said society, Lord Bridgerton" you clarified. "And we know well enough that not many would risk their place in this - pardon my words - refined golden parade for a semblance of temporary freedom"

"A golden parade". Anthony tasted your words on his tongue. "Shall we ever be freed from the chains society imposed us then?"

"It is possible, yes. Nevertheless, it may not be as easy as one might expect"

Anthony was still looking at you and the fabric of your gloves started sticking to your sweaty hands under his stare. You lowered your gaze. "But of course, this is just my humble opinion"

"Quite pessimistic, if I may" Benedict's voice broke through your thoughts. Slouching like Anthony on the other couch, there was no doubt those two were brothers. "But my word, you and Eloise would get along perfectly well"

"My second daughter. She is quite a free spirit" explained Violet seeing your confusion. "Unfortunately, you won't meet her today: she went for a walk with her friend, miss Penelope Featherington"

“On another quest to find the writer who hides behind the name of Lady Whistledown” added Benedict, earning a glare from his mother.

"I'm sure there will be many other occasions to meet her. And your eldest daughter as well. I’ve heard she married the Duke of Hastings, is that right?"

Her eyes lit as soon as you mentioned her daughter, and before you knew it, your mind was filled with every single detail of the wedding and engagement party, and all the circumstances that preceded and followed it.

A light knock made everyone turn towards the door. The footmen placed swiftly and silently the trays with teapots and cups on the small tables around the room, together with many small plates full of different biscuits and what looked like delicious refreshments.

One of the footmen approached cautiosly Violet, who was now talking about the scandal in which Colin had been unknowingly drawn. "Lady Bridgerton". The woman turned towards him with a smile. "Miss Francesca denies her medicine..."

Violet sighed, putting her cup back on the tray. "Goodness gracious... She went to Bath on her own, she's almost of age and she keeps throwing tantrums for these little things...". She then turned to you: "I shall be back in a few minutes, my dear"

You nodded, watching her leave the room with the young footman. The exact moment she disappeared through the door, Benedict jumped from his seat, almost making you spill the tea on your dress.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I shall leave as well" he explained, putting his tailcoat back on in a hurry. He looked towards Anthony. "If mother asks, I'm in my room feeling unwell and I definitely won't attend dinner"

"Shall I know where you're going?" asked Anthony with a smirk on his face. "Perhaps getting a new suit?"

Benedict ignored him, which made Anthony grin even more. “It’s been a pleasure, miss Y/L/N. We shall talk more next time we meet" he said with a small bow and a smile, before walking out the drawing room as well.

You took a long sip from your small cup, trying to focus on the taste of the tea and not on the fact that you and Anthony were now completely alone. The hot drink had a fresh mint scent and... and then his touch on your skin was everything your mind could think of.

"Are you enjoying yourself, miss Y/L/N?"

"Absolutely!" you replied, your voice an octave higher than normal. Clearing your throat, you attempted to think of something to say that wasn't in any way related to Anthony's hands on you. "The tea is divine"

He chuckled, taking a biscuit from the tray. "I'm glad you like it". He took a bite before asking again: "Does the house do justice to your memories?"

"It does" you nodded. "I'm surprised how few things have changed over the years but I'm glad to be able to recognise every corner. It's like stepping in the past"

Anthony smiled without taking his eyes off you. Looking down on your empty cup you felt your skin itch under his deep stare. Before you could think of anything else to say, you heard the sound of fabric rustling: Anthony Bridgerton had stood up and was now moving closer with every step. He stretched his hand out to you, smiling like he did only around you.

"Would you like to step in the past again, miss Y/L/N?"

With his eyes locked in yours, your mouth was wholly dry. You had no idea what he had in mind but, strangely enough, you didn't care: you just took his hand.

The heat radiating through the thin fabric of your gloves set on fire every nerve of your body. You held tight onto his hand as he pulled you down a maze of corridors, running within those walls like when you were kids. The excitement, and the new feeling that was pushing against your corset, let a wide, joyful smile appear on your face, as you felt lighter than ever before.

Then, after a last turn, he pulled you in a room, closing the door behind him. It took a deep breath for you to realise Anthony had dragged you in the library: it was smaller than you recalled, and even so it held so much knowledge you always found overwhelming stepping inside, as if you weren’t worthy of it.

Still panting, Anthony collapsed on the settee near the window, his smile wider than ever. "Good Lord..." he sighed letting his head fall back, his shoulders shook by laughter. "I haven't felt this alive in quite some time..."

"As much as I enjoy seeing you smiling, did we truly have to run all the way here?" you whispered, trying to steady your breath. "If anyone saw us, they probably thought we were up to something, which is not true at all"

Placing his elbows on his knees, Anthony bended over, his eyes lit by the spark of mischief. "If we're not up to something... then why are you whispering?"

You shook your head, turning your back to him. You walked closer to the atlas, opened on book stand in one of the corner of the room. With your index you gently traced the lines of the continents shown on the page, searching names of places you knew. Then a realization hit you.

“We shouldn’t be here”. Taking a step back from the atlas, you turned to Anthony.

He looked at you with furrowed brows. “Why so?”

"I'm quite sure you're aware that, for a lady, being in the same room as a man without a chaperone is improper and disgraceful" you clarified, rubbing your hands nervously.

"Is it?". You shot Anthony a glare.

"Yes, my lord. Awfully disgraceful". You looked at the door, terrified someone might walk in.

Anthony sighed. “Very well. But before we go... would you please read something to me?”. The request wasn’t exactly what you were expecting and Anthony, as he had read in your mind, added: “There’s nothing improper in that”

You took a sharp breath but then nodded. “Very well”. You moved your eyes on the many books on the bookshelves, the titles and authors embossed on their spines in golden letters: Shakespeare, Edgeworth, Scott.

"Do you want me to read anything in particular, my lord?"

He closed his eyes, slouching again on the settee. "Anything as long as I can hear your voice"

Taken aback by his words, you were glad he couldn’t see your scarlet cheeks. You took a small poetry volume, opening it at a random page. The words written on the paper danced in your mind with the finesse of a butterfly.

You sat down on the other end of the settee as your lungs tried their best to fill with enough air to keep you from fainting. You took a last deep breath before starting to read out loud.

"The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,

The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea,

The plowman homeward plods his weary way,

And leaves the world to darkness and to me."

As you kept reading, the book in one hand and the other resting in your lap, the verses rolled on your tongue like candid pearls on velvet; an ancient incantation created to charm minds.

You didn't realise that Anthony had been getting closer and closer by the second until the moment he took your empty hand in his. You stopped mid-verse as your eyes jolted to your joined hands.

"Go on" he gently asked, stroking his thumb on your hand.

Gulping down your beating heart you started reading again, but your attention was nowhere near the words printed on the paper. It was all on the way his fingers rested on yours and moved against your glove, as trying to find a path past the thin fabric.

That small and seemingly meaningless touch unleashed a thunderstorm within you: powerful, destructive and awfully seductive.

You finished the poem, the last word leaving you breathless. Closing the book, the closeness with Anthony felt way too much to handle.

"We should go now". You stood, breaking the contact with Anthony to put the book in its place. Your hand without his touch felt extremely empty.

You heard him sigh. "I believe we should". Anthony stood up, smoothing his blue tailcoat. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his eyes set on fixing his sleeves: "I must apologise, miss Y/L/N"

You turned towards him with eyes wide in confusion before frowning. "For what, my lord?"

"I'm convinced that my puerile behaviour put you in an uncomfortable and improper position" - his voice and face were completely emotionless, not the face of the Anthony you knew - "and I beg your forgiveness for that. I had no rights to act this way towards a lady such as yourself and I would totally understand if you chose to..." he stopped a moment, searching for the strength to finish the phrase, “...interrupt our acquaintance”

"Lord Bridgert-"

"Of course” he continued, "I would never want for you to interrupt your visits to my mother and family. And, of course, I shall have prepared a carriage to take you home and then, hopefully, everything will soon seem just a-"

"Anthony"

You finally moved from the bookshelf, catching his hand in yours. His eyes moved from the doorknob, first resting on your joint hands and then raising to your face. It had felt like days since he last glanced at you.

"Please, let me speak”. He didn’t move, his face still unreadable but his eyes had your complete attention. You took a deep breath as you put your messy thoughts in the right order.

“You didn't offend me" you explained, even if your trembling voice could've told otherwise. "Your actions, your attentions weren't a discomfort to me whatsoever. They were just-", a shaky sigh escaped your lips, "What I feel in your presence is overwhelming, like standing on a cliff while the wind howls around you, trying to push you off the edge... you wish you could ignore it but it keeps luring you in and-"

His hand on your cheek cut you off. His thumb caressed your cheekbone and slid down, along your jaw, to stop on your chin. "So this pleases you?" he asked, his voice deep as his eyes were staring into yours. At a loss of words, you nodded as fireworks exploded in your stomach.

At his words you suddenly remembered: “Your mother! She’s probably still waiting in the drawing room!”. You took your hands to your face, covering your heated cheeks. “Oh no... she’ll never forgive me...”

Eventually he smiled, and seeing his eyes lighting up was just what you needed to feel relieved. "That's good to hear” he murmured, stroking your cheek again and again, “but now you should really go home: we don’t want your mother to get worried, don’t we?”"

He shook his head chuckling. “My mother doesn’t hold grudges for such ridiculous matters. However, if it could help you sleep better tonight, I shall talk to her. You must trust me: I already have mastered a talent in finding quite believable excuses”

You smirked. “Why am I not surprised?”. Anthony smiled before taking again your hand. A bolt ran through your arm.

"I know it may sound bold, but would you join me and my family at tomorrow’s picnic in Hyde Park? These social gatherings always bore me to death but I’m sure your company would be the perfect remedy"

"Two invitations in a row?”. You grinned. “The ton will talk about this for quite some time"

“Is that a yes, miss Y/L/N?”

You smiled. “Of course it is, my lord. I could never refuse you anything”

<-•☆•->

When the carriage left you in front of your house, there was still enough light for you to see the pathway leading to the front door. As you entered and closed it behind you, your mother appeared at the top of the staircase.

“Thank Goodness you’re back!”. She run down the stairs, immediately cupping your cheeks. “Are you alright? Did anything happen to you?”

“I’m good, mama” you confirmed, with a smile. "Lord Bridgerton invited me to attend the picnic in Hyde Park tomorrow". At your words, every inch of blood seemed to be drained from your mother's face. “Is everything quite alright?”

“I’ve heard some awful rumors at the market today...” she whispered, taking your hands in hers. “About the Bridgertons”

You smiled gently. “Is it about the scandal surrounding Colin Bridgerton? Because I can assure you he had no part in-”

“it isn’t, my dear”. She shook her head, some locks of hair escaping her tight hairdo. “It’s about Lord Bringerton”

Your smile fell in a second. “What about him?”

Your mother took a deep breath before going on: “I believe him to be a rake, my dear, and from what I’ve heard, he spent most of last season attending the private rooms of different opera singers...”

"What?". You shook your head in disbelief. "No, it can't be... I know him and he's nothing like this"

"It has been years, sweetheart" she said, kindly caressing your cheek. "Maybe he's changed, like you have..."

"But he's not a rake!". You took a step back from your mother. "Lord Bridgerton is a gentleman, he would never-"

You stopped mid-sentence as what happened that afternoon replayed in your mind: surely you didn't dislike his behaviour, as daring as it was, but it was improper. Terribly improper. Something a rake would do with light skirts. Or with young and willing ladies.

Your corset seemed to be tighter than ever, squeezing your lungs until no air was left behind.

"I do not want to push you, my dear..." continued your mother, "but perhaps you should rethink your choice for tomorrow. You could say you had forgotten a previous engagement or-"

"No". Your steady voice didn't reflect the turmoil in your chest at all. "I have already accepted, mother" you said, walking past her to the stairs. "It would be disrespectful to refuse the invitation of a Viscount"

Besides, you wanted answers, and the only people who could give you some was Anthony himself.

Taglist: @ba-cute @xceafh @latekate1807 (if you want to be added or removed, let me know)