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chateautae · 4 years

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maybe i do | kth. III

➵ 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 : 17k (im sorry omg)

➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)

➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!

chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”

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“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.

How incredibly wrong that was.

“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned.

“Good. You?”

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.

“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.

“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.

Anything but you.

“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.

You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.

Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice.

“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.

Disappointment.

She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter.

Typical.

“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?”

“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase.

And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater.

Your mother.

“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother.

“What do you mean?”

“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you.

“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting.

You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes.

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.

“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago.

“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into.

An argument.

“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated.

“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”

“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.”

“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.”

“Excuse me? Definition?”

“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two.

“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back.

“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!”

“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”

“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt.

You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier.

“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering.

“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?”

“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.

“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.

“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it.

“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air.

Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.”

If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.

Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided.

But this, this was where your mother won.

Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading.

To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours.

It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable.

“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!”

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!”

“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!”

“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression.

You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”

This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face.

You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound.

It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known.

“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this.

Not at something as undeserving as your mother.

“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you.

A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke.

“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.”

Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?”

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.”

“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended.

“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way.

“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands.

She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face.

It was too much, she was too much.

Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.

Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life.

Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.

It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother.

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm.

Taehyung.

You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying.

Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you.

And it didn’t work.

Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door.

He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity.

He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home.

Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study.

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home.

More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways.

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of.

He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you.

“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature.

Taehyung grimaced.

“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.

He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.

“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.

“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”

Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good.

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him.

He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother?

This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true.

They simply weren’t.

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest.

There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you?

It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true.

Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”

“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”

And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer.

Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it.

Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you.

What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now.

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all.

It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife.

Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this.

He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce.

Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy.

He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.

He knew nothing about you.

He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to.

He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.

And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him.

So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened.

But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you.

So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase.

You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them.

You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride.

Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this.

Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.

“Y/N?”

You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?”

Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air.

“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.

“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.

“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.

“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.

And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.

Until your last braincell kicked in.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.

And you knew he knew.

“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest.

It was fucking poetic.

“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.”

“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.

It was odd.

“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.

“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.

You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression.

“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge.

He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.

It couldn’t be real.

But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.

You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side.

“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.

So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.

“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.

Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t.

“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless.

“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered.

“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”

“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true.

Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away.

And he still fucking hated it.

Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so.

“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.

You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.

Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.

“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.

“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-”

“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.

“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar.

And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago. You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.

Especially if it meant him.

“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word.

Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before.

And you really did like the way he smiled.

He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.”

“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again.

“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.”

You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted.

“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you.

Did he just call you pretty?

You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face.

Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this.

“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.

“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.

Those fucking eyes.

Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.

He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was.

And he suppressed a stupid grin.

Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.

Cute, he thought.

He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.

He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.

He was just so beautiful.

You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.

“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms.

You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.

Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work.

You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.

You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.

That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.”

“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.

It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling.

“Hm?” You looked up.

“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news.

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.

You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”

You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event.

“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad.

“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.

“I know, I bought one for you.”

You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?”

“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”

You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.

“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.

“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.

“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”

“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife.

“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered.

“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.”

“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.

“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time.

“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself.

“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”

“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence.

Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late.

“Oh shit, I have to go.”

“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name.

“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving.

“Yes?”

“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house.

Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it.

You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed.

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label.

Chanel.

You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain.

It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp.

Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear.

You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt.

Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it.

Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead.

It was bordering 6:30 now.

You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people.

It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding.

And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos.

Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.

You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’.

It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife.

So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung.

You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves.

The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin.

You couldn’t stop blushing at all.

Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.

“I’m in our room!”

He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it.

He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through.

He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly.

His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone.

And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life.

He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.”

You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.

“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?”

“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung.

You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.”

You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches.

He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.

And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other.

He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment.

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe.

“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too.

“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off.

“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent.

Peonies.

He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.

“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome.

This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.

“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.

“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.

You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car.

He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete.

You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.

You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people.

Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check.

“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene.

“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you.

You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again.

And again, it sent shivers down your spine.

“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers.

You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown.

He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today.

It was probably better to stay silent.

So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you.

This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway.

And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?

You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.

“Kiss her!”

It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.

“Y/N, look at me.”

“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.

He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile.

And it damn well worked.

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala.

Huge.

It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected.

It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you.

You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.

He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies.

Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs.

“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.”

Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.

“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark.

“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his.

“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.” A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.

“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted.

“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one.

“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly.

“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.

“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit.

“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy.

“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious.

He almost felt like the sun.

“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information.

“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two.

“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.

“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark.

“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest.

He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy.

The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun.

“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun.

“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised.

“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back.

“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.”

“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized.

“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.”

“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.

“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.

“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed.

You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?”

“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point.

“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect.

“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes.

“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone.

“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled.

“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group.

You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly.

Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.

“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation.

“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered.

“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone.

“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered.

Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose.

It was refreshing.

“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker.

“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others.

“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical.

“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi.

“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along.

“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush.

“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased.

“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing.

“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you.

You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him.

You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident.

Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether.

He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you.

“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering.

What would you say?

“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again.

He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned.

And he oddly felt.. nice.

“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction.

“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him.

“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully.

“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting.

“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.

Until Taehyung spoke.

“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.”

The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you.

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side.

“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!”

And it only made the men crack up even harder.

It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant.

It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall.

You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met.

Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings.

It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles.

That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura.

“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard.

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.”

“Then why is he here?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.

“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself.

“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed.

“Taehyung, who?”

“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up.

Something was seriously wrong.

You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him.

“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies.

Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type.

“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.

It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand.

“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever.

Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.

“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you.

“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both.

“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly.

“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.

“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice.

“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him.

“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy.

“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.

“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.

“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?”

Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.

You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety.

Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.”

This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?”

“Oh, so she talks.”

You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.

“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that.

“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.

“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.”

“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash.

“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes.

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot.

Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened.

“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins.

But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name.

“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.

Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible.

He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.

“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him.

Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve.

You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move.

“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.

“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.”

Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.

“Tae-”

“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it.

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves.

“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”

“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly.

Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady.

“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?”

“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.

“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again.

Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you.

“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly.

“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.

“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him.

“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass.

“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”

“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.

“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said.

And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought.

“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face.

“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?”

“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth.

Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest.

You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.

It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it

You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now.

Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.

It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries.

But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips.

He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk.

Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway.

“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?”

“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you.

“Okay, we’re coming.”

“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it.

Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully.

“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.

“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt.

You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were.

Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it?

Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips.

Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes.

He said they were nice.

You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.

It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it.

And you already felt doomed.

You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy.

“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired.

You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.”

“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up.

“..Yes.” You answered confused.

The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.”

Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever.

You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.”

“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together.

“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond.

They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought.

“What exactly are you trying to get at?”

“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.”

You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up.

“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened.

“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation.

With a snarky last word.

“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething.

You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth.

“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.”

“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood.

Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table.

Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes.

Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.

“I said nothing.”

Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.

And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces.

Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you.

He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him.

He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid.

“Nothing, Taehyung.”

Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?”

“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter.

Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason.

Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan.

It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.

“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them.

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?”

“Yeah, too long!”

“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them.

The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully.

“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face.

“Actually, I didn’t.”

Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?”

“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”

“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous.

“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.”

Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.

“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave.

“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them.

Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”

Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself.

You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.”

You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.

And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.

So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you.

“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think.

Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now.

He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it.

“People are watching?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self.

“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second.

Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace.

You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips.

Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks.

You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened.

Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue.

He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him.

“You called me Tae, you know.”

“What?”

“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.”

And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot.

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tags : @thedarkwinterrose @ayujaded @couldbeyourlast @ladyarmanto @anpanman-sonyeondan @apollukee @blueevelvt @taesluttt @scalubera @laurynne5 @dreamsindreamss @thequeen-kat @awsome-small-k @wrecklesssly @kweenhu @jalexad @staerify @bangforever @dyriddle @aianloveseven @waves-and-woods @hoefortaeshands @veronawrites @nightapple4jk @wataemelonz @aomi-nabi @katbonv @hantaev @jinpuddin @usamizuki @wooya1224 @bambuzlee @jenotation @tangledsparkles @pcyxljh @forbts-only @dumplingley @ccmemoirs @kleritata @thelilbutifulthings @maygem2780 @lachimolala95 @betysotelo18 @prettycoolting @opaljm @jeonlovers @honeyboocal @preciouschimine

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #thetruthuntoldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung arranged marriage au #kim taehyung

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chokingonpaper · 3 years

Note

Ohla Bola, how are you today? I come bearing a request; ej, with a "kidnapped" s/o, but they went willingly, because they are a monster lover, and who would pass up the opportunity to be with that hunk of a demon 🥵 (I know I wouldnt). So the gist of it is, they are compliant, they know exactly what is going on, manipulation wise, dont care because they are finally being loved (emotional distant parents maybe?) And fully reciprocate the affections and obsessions that ej has for them. (Maybe they see it as the only way they will ever find true love?)

If this is possible? Many thanks adieu

Im doing good, and of course! Again, I might make a part two :D This ended up kind of being the prologue for how this would go in the future ig- If I make a part two it’ll be more about the kidnapping and stuff like that

Also happy 100 posts!

𝐍𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐄𝐉 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

1,390 words

You had always been a lonely person. Often times people avoided you, and the people that decided to stick around always seemed to fade away sooner or later.

You lived at the edge of your neighborhood with most of your house concealed by large, dark trees. The community was always planning things and arranging little parties, but you never went. It wasn’t entirely other people’s fault that you were alone, you just weren’t that interested in other people. Though a part of you yearned for a friend, someone that understood you and wouldn’t leave at only a moments notice. But that person hadn’t arrived yet, and you had given up hope that they ever would.

Life was dull, and every morning you woke up you wondered if anything would ever change. Every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, get home, and sleep. Then it’d repeat over, and over, and over again. Every time you came home you found your house empty, and you were once again reminded of how alone you were.

But then one day you felt the strange feeling of eyes on your back. Not having very many friends, you often spent your time observing rather than socializing. You knew this feeling very well, and you knew that you were being watched. Yet along with this unnerving feeling, you felt a rush you’d never experienced before. You weren’t alone, and for whatever reason you were okay with that.

Whenever you walked through the kitchen, you felt eyes trailing you from your windows. You didn’t know who the person was or why they were watching you. You hadn’t even managed to catch a glimpse of them yet.

Whenever you got ready for work and headed out the door, you felt the same thing. Even when you were at work, you swore you could still feel their presence. A part of you wondered if you had just made this person up, just to make you feel less alone. By the other part of you wondered if you were in danger. If this was real, you had a stalker on your hands, and you had no idea who it could be.

It could be a coworker, an old employer, or even just a passing customer. Their identity was completely unknown, and you spent hours pondering who they could possibly be and what they looked like. But they were good at hiding themselves, and you hadn’t even seen a shadow.

Weeks passed and you began to tell yourself that it was all in your head, but then knocking came. It was almost like it was to reassure you that they were there, that they hadn’t left, and that they were anything but imaginary.

The first time it happened you nearly jumped out of your chair, but as time passed and the little knocks and taps continued, they became almost comforting. You weren’t supposed to feel at peace when you had a stalker, but it’d been so long and they hadn’t hurt you yet, so who’s to say they ever would? They might just be an observer, like you.

But soon enough just observing wasn’t good enough for them. It had been over a month, and now Jack wanted a little more than just standing to the side and watching your life as if it were a movie. He wanted to be around you, to hold you, to be the one to take you away from your loneliness. He knew how little you went out besides when you had to work, and he knew how much you wanted someone to talk to and spend time with. He’d seen you watch groups of friends with envy, wondering what it was like to be so close to someone. He’d seen you lie on your back staring up at the ceiling, feeling so empty that you couldn’t even cry. Jack had seen you stare out the window where he stood only a moment ago with eyes full of desperation, silently begging him to reveal himself.

He knew you, and he wanted to take you away from everything you disliked about the world.

So the next time you looked out the window with a sad sigh, he decided to try something he’d never even thought to do before. Jack slowly stepped out of the shadows and in front of your window, finally allowing you to see the dark figure who had been watching you nearly every hour of every day.

Your eyes widened in pure shock and you froze, just studying the man who had presented himself to you.

He was tall, several inches above six feet. His physique was impressive, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. Though he was at a distance, you could tell how much he towered over you. He stood still, holding eye contact with you and staring you down with an intense gaze. Anyone could see that this man wasn’t someone to be messed with, and it was already clear to you that you weren’t getting out of this one.

But even if you could, would you want to?

Then suddenly he was no longer still, and his noticeably large hands reached for the window. The window was locked, but you guessed he already knew this. This was was a stranger who had been stalking you for a little over a month. You had never seen him before, and you knew damn well that if he got into your home he could overpower you with ease. Yet as your heart beat faster, pounding loudly in your chest, you hesitantly stepped towards the window.

A small sliding lock was the only thing keeping the man out, though you could guess he had other ways of getting in if he needed to. After all, the windows weren’t bullet-proof.

You gulped down a lump of nervousness and placed your shaking hand over the lock. The man, Jack, watched with interest as you slowly unlocked it, giving him access to your home, and to you.

Why were you doing this? Why were you letting him in? You were unlike any human he’d ever encountered before, and that only made his desire to keep you for himself grow.

Not doing anything more than unlocking it, you backed away from the window as the man pushed it open and climbed inside. Once he stood at his full height you looked up at him in awe. Covering his face was a navy blue mask that dripped black from the eyes. It sent a chill down your spine and froze you in place. Now that he was closer it was only more obvious just how strong he was. He was so much taller than you and obviously very strong. He was the definition of intimidating, and if you weren’t frozen in place you would have crumbled to the ground.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like hours, but then he took a step forward and your eyes widened.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice came out less comforting than you would have liked. It was deep and incredibly raspy, as if he hadn’t spoken in weeks.

You nodded slowly, his words not really making you feel any safer. “W-Who are you?” You asked in a tone only a bit above a whisper. It was clear that you were afraid, yet you made no attempt to leave.

“I’m Jack.” He answered simply, not offering any more information that could help you understand what exactly was going on. You had just let your stalker into your home, and now you were having a semi-calm conversation with him.

Jack soon took another step towards you, and now only about a foot was between you.

“I’m going to take you with me. Either cooperate, or I’ll knock you out. Understand?” He stated lowly, staring down at you with complete seriousness. You were about to be kidnapped, but instead of fear you felt almost… relieved. Someone wanted you. Someone wanted you so badly that they were going to simply take you. It sounded so wrong, so terrifying, yet all you could think about was how you would no longer be alone.

And so you nodded, letting him silently lead you out of your house and into the tree line from which you would never emerge from again.

#creepypasta #ej x reader #eyeless jack creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta eyeless jack #eyeless jack #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta hc #creepypasta hcs

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bothcreativitybois · 3 years

Text

TMST Chapter 8

I was freaking out because no one was commenting on Chapter 8... turns out I hadn’t posted it... 🤡 I am so sorry. Ao3 link Wordcount: 2507 Ship: Intruality TWs: Food, hospital, crying Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Taglist: @crazydemigod666 @star-crossed-shipper @newtnotfound @3amthebitchinghour @idont-freaking-know @someoneiwasnt @crownofrats @the-sympathetic-villain @cute-and-angsty-princess @lonelymuffin @bloodyjay-0666 @im-an-anxious-wreck @fantasticallytired @obsessive-fallen-angel

“What do you mean I can’t bake?!” Patton shouted. “It’s a bakery!” Remus put up his hands to try and calm the angry man. “Janus just needs a day or two to get some of the painting done with spray paint.” Remus explained, his truck behind him filled with tarps and paints. “You said you wanted all the paint done for the Valentine's Day class, right?” “Yeah I know…” Patton huffed. He really didn’t like the idea of being locked out of the kitchens for two days. “Well it’s later this week. He can do brush for most of it but he wants to do this one part with spray paint.” Remus continued. “Consider it a vacation.” Remus tried to help Patton see the bright side. Patton sighed. “Just two days?” Patton asked. Remus put his hands on Patton’s shoulders. “Yes, that’s all. You deserve the break anyway.” Remus comforted. Patton looked up at the sign Remus had hung yesterday, the one he’d been waiting months for and Remus had it up in only about a week. Remus was doing so much to help him. He trusted him. “Alright.” Patton finally agreed. “But please have it done as soon as possible.” “Of course. You can trust me.” Remus said, Janus scoffed behind him. Patton laughed. He looked up at the sign again. It reminded him of something. Something he hadn’t done in a while. “You’re okay doing it all with just the two of you?” Patton asked. “If Remus touches my paint’s I’ll stab him in the hand again.” Janus shouted from the truck. “Again?” Patton turned to Remus who just shrugged. “We’ll be okay. Go do whatever you want.” Remus assured again as he pushed Patton towards his car.

An hour later Patton was in the city. He had stopped at a florist to get some flowers. As he walked in he was almost floored with all the scents that hit him at once. As he looked over the pots and shelves full of colourful flowers a worker came up to him. “Anything I can help with?” The lady asked in a friendly tone. Patton looked up quickly. He glanced quickly at the name tag that read ‘Charlie’. “Believe it or not I’m looking for flowers.” Patton joked, Charlie offered a polite laugh. “Anything in particular?” Charlie looked around at the mounds of flowers. Patton thought for a moment. He knew the answer to this. The same he always got. “Carnation and Peruvian lily.” Patton answered. The worker suddenly had a realisation. “You must be Patton.” Charlie said after a moment. Patton laughed. “I come here that much, huh?” He joked. Truthfully it wasn’t his first time here, but he’d never met Charlie before so he didn’t want to act like he knew the shop. It’d been a while since he came here so he thought maybe the staff had forgotten him anyway. “There’s a note behind the counter on your usual bouquet.” Charlie clarified. “I can make it for you right now.” She walked off and began gathering flowers. Patton looked around as she worked. He was drawn to the back of the store. A shelf without flowers, just small bottles. Most seemed to be perfumes or flower oils but one stood out. “When did you start stocking rose essence?” Patton asked as he plucked the bottle off the shelf. Charlie didn’t look up from arranging the flowers. “Just got it last week.” She shouted from her workstation. Patton turned the small bottle of flavouring over in his hands and inspected the clear liquid inside. “You a baker or a bartender?” Patton turned and began walking to the counter, bottle in hand. “Baker.” He said proudly, although he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to call himself that. “Those are the only two kinds of people we get looking for that.” Charlie said as she taped up the paper around the flowers. With Valentine's Day coming soon he knew he could find some way to use it. He paid for the flowers and also got a bottle of the essence. He dropped his essence in the car and looked across the street at his next stop. It was really convenient that they had a florist across from the hospital. He walked into the reception and was greeted with a familiar face this time. “Patton! Long time no see.” The nurse said. “Here to see Moe?” The nurse already knew the answer but asked nonetheless. “Of course.” Patton responded. The nurse typed a few things on the computer before looking up again. “She’s still in the same room. You can go on through.” The nurse smiled. Patton nodded. “Thanks Kait!” Patton called as he walked away. He began humming to himself as he walked. A small song he made to remember the way. “Third hall left, up two flights, fifth room right. Third hall left, up to flights, fifth room right.” Patton hummed this all the way until he reached the right room. At this point he didn’t really need the song to remember but it had become a habit. It helped calm his nerves. He took a deep breath and knocked gently on the already slightly open door. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, she was the one who asked he visited less. She wanted him to focus on the bakery. “Come in.” A voice answered. Patton pushed open the door the rest of the way. He looked over at the bed to see his mother, she smiled as soon as she saw him. “Froggy.” She cheered. Patton quickly walked over and hugged her. “Hi Mum.” He whispered as she squeezed him tightly. He didn’t realise how much he missed her hugs until he was having one. He leaned back and gave her the flowers he was carrying. Even though she got this same bouquet each time he visited she was still excited and sniffed it deeply. “Thank you, dear. It’s lovely.” She said caressing the flowers. “How have you been?” Patton asked finally as he pulled a chair close to the bed. His mother sat up quickly and turned to him. A wide proud smile broke across her face. “They’re saying if the inflammation stays where it is then I should be out by the end of the month!” She announced excitedly. Patton smiled. He wanted to get excited, he really did, but the doctors said the same thing last month. “That’s great!” Patton praised with as much excitement he could muster. “I can’t wait to have you back.” Patton reached out a hand and his mother took it in hers. He really meant that. He missed having his mother around to handle business while he baked. He missed having her hug him each morning. He missed her doting over every new recipe, how she lit up when she tried it, how she would smile proudly as he baked, how she would poke his cheek and tell him everything will be okay. He missed her. “How’s the bakery?” Moe asked. She knew it was in bad shape when she left, but Patton hadn’t visited in nearly a month. She was blissfully unaware of everything happening. Patton wasn’t and fidgeted at the question. “Well… there was a bit of a mix up.” He began. As he looked up he saw her face change. She was so happy a moment ago but now she looked scared. He hated seeing that. “Uh but don’t worry! It will all be fixed by the time you get out.” Patton misled. It wasn’t completely untrue, the problem would be over by then. It was just a question of how that would happen. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Moe stressed. Patton waved a finger. “You know that you aren’t supposed to work.” He reminded her. “Besides I actually have some people already helping.” He admitted. Moe looked over curiously. “People as in worker people or as in friend people?” Her voice sparkled mischievously. This was the first time Patton had seen her since he had met Remus and the others, she’d not heard anything about friends.

He explained everything that had happened, omitting the part where the bakery may be shut down. Moe listened closely, it was so long since she’d seen him and each day she just wanted to hear his voice again. As much as it hurt her to not see him as much as she used to, he needed to focus on the bakery, on making friends, on everything being normal again. She noticed something about the way he talked about this ‘Remus’ guy. The way he described him and the face he made when he spoke about him. It was more than just friendship. So when are you going to stop messing about and ask Remus on a date?” Moe said after Patton was done his story. Blunt as always. Patton blushed. “Wh-what?” Patton stuttered. He didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed about it. It wasn’t like he was a closeted high school kid anymore. “I don’t think he’s interested in me like that.” “Are you?” Moe asked quickly. “I don’t have the time to think about that.” Patton gave the same answer he’d given Janus. Moe gave him a hard stare. “Great. Now try again but tell me the truth.” She pressed. She could see right through him. Patton sighed. Perhaps it would be good to get it out. Especially with someone he trusted. “It’s a lot of things. Remus is the first guy I’ve been interested in since the break up which is a little startling. His friend has said he has an issue with boundaries and honestly I can see it. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would date someone like me and even if he did I doubt we’d want the same things from it. He doesn’t seem like the guy who wants more than a hook-up or maybe a few dates.” Patton finally let out. He’d been holding it all in and it felt good to say it. Moe took a minute to process everything Patton had said. “I can think of one cure-all solution that might work.” Moe suggested after a while. Patton leaned in eagerly. “Just talk to the damn guy!” She shouted. Patton leaned back and sighed. He knew that was what he needed to do, but it was also the thing he was avoiding. He finally had someone, he had friends, and that could all be ruined if he said anything. “But what if it goes badly?” Patton said sadly. Moe took her son's hand once again. “Then it wasn’t gonna work out anyway. It might be better to get an answer now before it is too late and it hurts someone’s feelings very badly.” Moe soothed. Her son was so timid, she didn’t want him to miss out on something special because of it. But more so he was sensitive. And he made connections quickly. It was a perfect recipe for a crash and burn.

Patton stayed late at the hospital. Talking for hours with his mother, playing games in the visitor lounge, catching up. Until visiting hours ended and he had to leave. He clung to her one last time, knowing he wouldn’t get the chance to again for a while. When his mum was first brought to hospital when he was a teenager they had made a rule. No crying until after the visit. They had always stuck to this rule, even subconsciously. That’s why the tears didn’t hit until Patton was home. It wasn’t until he stepped into that cold night air that his eyes suddenly began to blur and his chest felt like it was disappearing. In that dark and silence he realised just how lonely he felt. He braced himself against the railing as he walked up the stairs to his apartment. As he got to the door he saw Remus sitting in front of it. He tried to wipe his face before Remus saw him but it was already too late. Remus didn’t say anything, he just ran up to Patton and hugged him. Patton fell into the hug without hesitation. He cherished the feeling of Remus’ arms wrapped around him. He suddenly didn’t feel as lonely. “You aren’t hurt, right?” Remus finally broke the silence but kept the hug. Patton laughed sadly. “No. I just…” Patton began. His mum’s words ran through his head. Just talk to the damn guy! “My mum is in the hospital and I went to visit her.” Patton admitted through sobs. It was the first time he’d told Remus about it. “She has an inflammatory disease and at the end of last year she had some problems with it that affected some of her organs, she’s been in the hospital ever since.” Remus tightened the hug. Patton felt himself nuzzle closer into the larger man’s chest as he heaved. “You don’t need to explain. I’m here for you.” Remus whispered. Patton gripped the back of his shirt. He was shaking like a baby foal on it’s first steps. “I felt so guilty at the picnic for having fun while she was stuck there.” Patton wheezed. Remus felt his heart break from Patton’s words. He didn’t know how to comfort people like Janus does, he wasn’t good with words like Roman. But none of that mattered. He just wanted Patton to be happy again. “Is there anything you want me to do that can help?” Remus asked. Patton looked up at him, eyes larger than the moon. “Just stay. Please.” Patton begged. As a response Remus pressed a kiss to the top of Patton’s head. “As long as you need.” Remus promised. And he did. He made Patton dinner while holding his hand, he waited just outside the bathroom as Patton showered, he turned off the lights and tucked Patton under the blankets. As Remus stepped away Patton grabbed his hand. He wasn’t ready to be alone again. “Not yet. Please don’t go.” Patton whispered weakly. Remus wasn’t sure what to do, but if Patton needed him then he would stay. He kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed. Patton immediately clung to his chest again. Remus gently placed his arms around Patton again. He could feel each sob and catch in Patton’s breathing. “I’m sorry.” Patton choked. “Don’t be.” Remus reassured as he buried his face in Patton’s hair. “I’d want to sleep with me too.” He joked. He felt Patton giggle sadly at him. He smiled proudly at himself and pulled Patton closer. He kept track of every sob and heave until eventually they all became steady and the small man’s grip weakened. He knew he should leave, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to abandon Patton. Or the calming feeling of their bodies pressed together in the darkness. He talked circles in his mind debating whether to stay until finally sleep made the choice for him.

#roman took over #the mayor's sweet treat #sanders sides small town au #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #intruality au #intruality #sanders sides #remus sanders #ts remus #patton sanders #ts patton #janus sanders #ts janus #tw food

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lilallama · 4 years

Text

Gardening club

What is the Gardening club?

The Gardening club is a group of nine girls who take care of Bulsajo High's massive garden. They're all very well known for being so sweet and kind towards everyone. They volunteer for many projects and always help whenever they can.

!!WARNING!! This work of fiction contains mentioning of murder, violence, kidnapping, dark web, obsessive behaviour and stalking, proceed with caution.

Club Positions

Minatozaki Sana: Leader

Im Nayeon: Co- leader

Park Jihyo: Disposer'

Yoo Jeongyeon: Security

Kim Dahyun: Photographer

Chou Tzuyu: Financial Support

Hirai Momo: Abductor

Myoui Mina: Secretary

Son Chaeyoung: Information Gatherer'

Members

Minatozaki Sana

The youngest daughter from a very famous Author. Her father specialises in writing Horror- romance stories. He gained a lot of attention and praise for his book ("Midnight Dancing" a story about a stalker who films his coworker every day at midnight when she's dancing to music...). The emotions felt so real, was said by everyone. Little did they know that "story" was how her parents met. Her father loves her mother while she's afraid of him.

Everyone in school knows her as cute and creative. She's a wonderful student and person to be around. No one knows that her own mother thinks the opposite of her. Sana has a long scar on the left side of her head, it spreads from her hairline to her mouth. The cause was that her mother threw a porcelain vase at her, hitting her head. A shard sliced the left side of her face, leaving the scar behind.

Im Nayeon

As the Principals daughter and Student council Vice-president everyone has a lot of respect for her. She follows rules strictly and makes sure others as well. Despite that strict behind of hers, she still is very helpful and friendly. Many people love her because she's reliable and diligent.

She developed a secret hatred for Kim Namjoon, the Student Council President, for winning the vote leaving her as Vice-president. She loves to make life fore difficult for him in subtle ways zuch as misplacing the papers, losing an important letter from her father, making a mess etc. But he always manages to fulfill his part perfectly no matter what she tries.

Park Jihyo

She is everyone's first choice when they have a problem and need to talk about it. Always ready to listen and give advice when needed. In her free time she volunteers as a private tutor for all subjects but specifically biology, language and history. Her family has a very average income with her parents owning a small flower shop across the city. The only way she got accepted into Bulsajo High was through a scholarship.

The reason Jihyo has always been so motherly and protective was her little sister. She loved that little dumbling with all her heart but one day they went out shopping. While she was paying she left her little sister unattended. She couldn't find her anywhere. The police couldn't find her. Jihyo was desperate and restored to finding someone in the dark web, someone who can help her. And she did find someone. They send her the address of an old abandoned warehouse and that's where she went. But the sight that she saw was horrific. Her little sister's body was completely torn up while some guy cleaned knives in silence. Jihyo couldn't think she grabbed the nearest knife and... She could never forget what she saw. She still has nightmares from that day.

Yoo Jeongyeon

A strong, independent and funny girl. She was always known for being the popular, sporty tomboy. Many girls have crushed on her yet no one actually dared to confess. She's a good team player and loves challenges. It was a surprise to many when she joined the gardening club as she never showed any interest in gardening before. Turns out she just wanted to try something new and felt like doing something in nature that she hadn't tried before. Everyone envies her for her good relationship with her parents who seem to support every decision she makes. Jeongyeon loves them with all her heart and is very thankful to have them.

She has a strong hatred towards Jimin, no one knows why. Except for Jimin himself. Jimin used to be friends with Jeongyeon in their first year. But then she met someone very special, they made her heart flutter in ways no one has ever. But obe day both wabted to tell the other about their crush when something Jimin said ruined everything. "Look, there they are!" Pointing at HER Y/n! "No! That's my crush!" From that day their friendship was over. Now both do even to ruin the others chances with Y/n.

Kim Dahyun

She is a sweet but often overlooked girl. Her loce for flowers lead her to the gardening club, although it's more of a love for taking pictures of flowers. Dahyun was the first to fall for Y/n actually. She, just like Y/n, got into the school through a scholarship. But before that the two were neighbour's. Since Dahyun could think she was always peeking through the fence to see if the neighbour kid was there. She loved to watch them all day long but never actually went up to them.

It was as she's cursed. Even though she lived next to them, was in the same daycare, Kindergarten, elementary school and middle school tgey never noticed her. She even visited the same classes they did yet nothing. Every time they so much as glance into her direction she breaks out into shivers and excited giggles while covering her mouth wide eyed. In case you're wondering, yes, she is Taehyung's cousin.

Chou Tzuyu

As the daughter of two famous actresses she was always admired by everyone. Her beauty was beoned compare, her voice stunning to the ear, so nice and gentle it feels impossible. everything about her just seems too perfect, almost unreal. But the sad truth is, Tzuyu's parents always had to move from place to place, she never fekt home anywhere. People were intimidated by her status and appearance so they never approached her.

Secretly she's always been a hopeless romantic who believes innlove at first sight. The lack of affection made her desperate for a partner, it made her feel as if that's the only thing that will make her happy. And when she met that gorgeous, kind, strong individual, she just didn't want to look away ever!

Hirai Momo

The most cold member of the gardening club. As a famous gymnastic champion her focus layed on training and winning, not making friends. But Mina ended up in the same dance school as her, only that she majored ballet. Mina didn't know where to go so she asked for Momo's help. After that these two some how became friends. Momo has a secret soft spot for Mina and agreed to join the gardening club with her. There she found out her passion for gardening.

She is the most rough and honest in the group, never once lying about anything to the other girls. When spotting a rival she's commonly thecone to abduct them and bring them to a secluded place.

Myoui Mina

A classic, well mannered, feminine lady. Her mother was also a famous ballerina, known all over the globe for her incredible performances. Mina was raised with strict rules and goals. Her parents wanted their child to be the perfect ballerina, no mistakes, no hesitation. If she'd have the slightest slip up they would shout at her and shame her for it. They would make her train, even if her feet were aching and stinging, she needed to be perfect. So by now all her moves are perfected. Even though her feet scream for release she wil continue untill it's all over.

She met Momo at her new dance school after she transferred from Japan to Korea. They got along so well and soon became friends. When it was time to choose a club to join in school she decided, because there wasn't a ballet club, gardening wouldn't be too stressful. She met the love of her life while she was in the garden with the other girls. She found out that they wanted to give Nayeon something from Namjoon (a few copies) and then left. But thst split second they made eye contact had her heart beating so fast. She couldn't believe it.

Son Chaeyoung

While she is more on the shy side when it comes to meeting bew people, she is a very sweet girl. She is the gardening club's favourite member. With her eye for detail and colour, she always manages to make the best flower arrangements in town. Chae lives with her father and mother, both have a more average income. She knows that her father was with another woman and had a child before he married her mother. She's never meet her half brother but knows he took on his mothers last name, Min.

She is very stealthy which helps her wgen out to gather information. She loves to follow Y/n, a student from her mathematics and history class, around and gather Information about their day. Chae doesn't know what she's doing could be classified as strange or even creepy to some.

If you enjoyed reading my work, please reblog it. Thank you for reading!

#yandere twice #gardening club #yandere nayeon #yandere chaeyoung #yandere jeongyeon #yandere mina #yandere sana #yandere momo #yandere jihyo #yandere tzuyu #yandere dahyun

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fishandshesmygills · 3 years

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hello. your moodboards. i'm... i'm fritzing even writing this ask, like how. they're so good. pls i bow down, what is your process / what's your favorite image so far / tell me your ellie moodboard creation lore!

omg hiii <333 this got LONG so i will put it under the cut. it's on you for inviting me to ramble about my boards they are a labor of love they bring me soo much joy and this ask has made my night <333

first i made a pinterest board on my super secret pinterest acc (will NOT be linking, its got some very cringe stuff from days past) and at first i just put pics of anna and mary then i searched up angelcore then i took a few pics from my own pin library that i felt gave the Vibes (like all those lonely lit up houses) and then i kept on adding things that i thought matched my aesthetic and now my board is pretty cool looking if i do say so myself :) then i went through my larger board and found pics i thought went well together, i started w the 4 yellow ones bc i wanted to do a 3x3 at first but those 4 just went so nicely and evenly together that i just left it. the first one was literally just vibes but i wanted a sort of ominous feeling, the kissing women being anna and mary, the eyes being anna, the nervous amy gumenick picture being mary, the angel tattoo being a possible representation of their relationship... the fingers gripping the arm conveying that same urgency... i can see mary getting a tattoo especially post-resurrection i think it would be nice for her to have something john never touched. she always told dean that angels were watching over him and i like to think that was a reference to anna :)

that same day i also made my next one, the purple one, in which i included an edit by @sarahblakes which is also my header and by then id decided i was going to make all the colors of the rainbow and i had good purple stuff on my board. so i picked out my 9 fav purple pins on the board and saved them to my desktop with names like m2-1 and so on so i could keep track of them and opened a photo post, put them all in, and moved them around until i liked them. i rearranged it a bunch of times to get it right honestly. again i wanted to convey a sort of fraught urgency, but a little more cosmic now- the hands reaching out to each other are anna and mary, obviously. the stained glass window and church are for anna, the suburban neighborhood for mary, and the art piece of the woman reminded me of mary burning on the ceiling. the first one was smaller and more intimate to me. ive always loved purple it's just such a mystical color i think. again i included the angels watching over you line. i included 8 pictures in this moodboard because they were all different sizes (i save images directly from pinterest and credit where i can, but even with reverse image search a lot of them time finding the original is just not possible) the 4-format didnt work. anyways, i had more pictures for this one.

the next one: red. i almost did a taylor swift, red, reference in the caption, but i restrained myself. i did however include the yonic book painting from portrait of a lady on fire. for lesbian rights. this one im personally really in love with: red represents both anger/violence and love/desire in a way i think annamary really embodies. the photo of the redheaded girl playing the video game is just sooo anna to me: searching for those deeply human experiences. i love the painting with the two characters, one threatening the other with a gun, because that basically did happen in canon. another angel in the middle, red like the moodboard, two vintage-y blonde girls for mary, and of course anna, impaled. loving her was red, indeed. this one again had 8 images because i wanted to keep anna and mary together in the bottom row.

and now, blue. regina spektor caption!! blue, the most human color. anna deeply wanted to be human. she ripped out her grace to truly experience the world. mary meahwhile wanted safety, represented by the various suburban houses. i LOVE the look of this board: blue is also one of my favorite colors. i like how the glowing hands reaching around the moon mirror the image of the wings, but i didnt plan that when i picked the images, i chose them and then arranged them. i loveee houses that look lonely and haunted, lit up from the inside on a blue-dark night. suburban gothic is an aesthetic im obsessed with and it really fits mary and her cookie-cutter motherhood dreams that were heaven sent and wrong for her. the "im still here" sign across from the angel wings one makes a nice visual parallel and i also included it to include the scene where anna proclaims "there's still me" oh anna i love you so deeply.

#asks #nuntox #mutuals my beloved #ellie shhh

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thespianbooks · 4 years

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 12//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd *bold tags don’t work! Let me know if you would like to be added to the list!)

For the six weeks I was aware of my pregnancy, I had learned almost everything an expecting female should know at sixteen weeks along. As a human I never learned much about pregnancy or babies and honestly never expected to. I figured I would learn more once my sisters were married and expecting their own. I never anticipated that I would be the first. Now, of course, being a faerie changed all of those preconceived notions. I was mated, in love, and both my mate and I desperately wanted a baby of our own. But after having tried to conceive for the last decade, I was honestly a little embarrassed that I didn't educate myself more on the condition.

However, Madja made sure to inform Rhys and I of what to expect based on whatever stage I was currently in. At four months along, well into the second stage of my pregnancy, Madja advised us that I would soon "pop." We must have looked equally confused at the phrase, because the healer then explained that soon my pregnant belly would become more pronounced—that I would start to show. I naively thought that it already happened, seeing as Rhys was obsessed with the small swell that was my stomach, but Madja expressed that this minor swelling was more of my body bloating from the hormonal changes occurring in my body.

In passing, my pregnancy wasn't at all noticeable. I often chose to wear my usual leggings and soft sweaters around the estate and whenever I ventured into the city—visiting my painting studio Ressina had graciously taken over after current events kept me away. The only time my stomach was truly noticeable was when I was either naked (much to my mates' pleasure) and when I wore the gown that hugged my every curve during our visit to the Court of Nightmares. Even then I had to flatten the fabric in order to really accentuate the curve to Keir and the rest of the court. However, among the fae, my condition was easily noticeable thanks to my scent. Every time Rhys and I had journeyed into the streets of Velaris for walks along the Sidra, dinner at Sevenda's, or otherwise, we received approving smiles from passersby who took notice—all too polite to come outright and congratulate us before we made an official announcement.

Once we had actually announced the news, days after the Court of Nightmares, most every fae—lesser and otherwise, frequently and eagerly praised us. It was such a contrast to the reaction at Hewn City, that I couldn't help but get a little emotional every time someone gave us a gift or offered a piece of advice. Many times, Rhys and I heard of their excitement for when I would start to show—of when my belly would "pop."

And now, standing in front of my floor length mirror wearing my silken dressing gown, I realized I had indeed popped.

I stood astonished as I viewed my new pronounced belly in the mirror, despite it still being rather minor, there was now a distinct outward curve from below my bust line to my hips. I turned to the side to get a better view of my new stomach and blinked; wondering at just how long it might've taken me to notice this change. It had been another week since Rhys and I sent out letters requesting to move up the summit meeting; convincing Tamlin to attend as well. While it only took a couple of days to hear back from all the courts, we were still exchanging letters to iron out the details.

Kallias had been the first to respond, expressing his and Viviane's shared desire to meet early since their child was due in only a matter of weeks. Their child would still be a newborn by the time our summit would normally take place, and neither had the inclination to leave behind their baby or part ways with the other so soon after the birth. After Rhys confirmed with Kallias that it was safe for Viviane to travel, he sent a request for a room for us to stay in—and for me to recover in after winnowing to Thesan's palace.

We both agreed it would be wise to express to Thesan why we needed the room, and the High Lord of the Dawn Court readily agreed—having already received the same request from the High Lord and High Lady of the Winter Court. Along with his approval of the room, he also sent us his congratulations in the form of a large crystalline vase filled with a colored variety of delicate flowers that grew exclusively at his court. I was a little hesitant upon first seeing the bouquet, recalling that the last time we received a gift from a court they had been the blood rubies from Tarquin—after taking his half of the Book of Breathings. Rhys reassured me, however, that flowers were indeed a good sign—the extravagance of the arrangement showing Thesan's support.

"Well look at you," Rhys said from the doorway with a devilish grin, pulling me from my thoughts as I met his gaze. "Or should I say look at you two?"

I grinned at him through the mirror as he crossed the room, getting on his knees before me as he took in the full view of my stomach. His violet eyes were full of adoration as one hand traced the new curve and the other rested on my hip.

"You really are showing now, my love," he said before placing a chaste kiss on my skin.

I smiled and brushed a stray lock of his blue-black hair from his face before he stood again and encircled his arms around my waist. He pulled me gently against him and our grins widened when my newly formed stomach pressed against the hard planes of his.

"You better enjoy being able to hold me this close while you can," I teased. "Pretty soon my belly will be getting in the way."

"Of all the things that could come between us, Feyre darling, this," he said, moving his hands to hold either side of me "is the best."

My face flushed with pure joy as he lowered his brow onto mine, his violet eyes sparkling with an equal amount as I laid my hands on his chest. "Will you still feel that way when I'm as big as a house?" I asked timidly.

For a while I was pondering over the fact that pregnancy now meant my body was going to change—drastically. Realistically, I always knew it was going to happen, but after hearing talks of just how excited everyone was to see the physical evidence of my pregnancy, the reality of this transformation began to settle over me. My figure had been through a few changes before; once transitioning from human to fae and adopting near-perfect features. Again during that period of darkness after Under the Mountain, when I had gone gaunt and pale; my body at its weakest. After coming to the Night Court—to Velaris, I recovered. My cheeks filled in, the color on my pallid complexion came back, and the rest of my figure filled out to a slender physique. Training with Cassian and learning to fly with Azriel had added more weight to my frame, coming strictly from my newfound muscles. Over the last decade, I maintained that lithe and fit shape, but being pregnant meant everything was becoming...soft—or at least softer. As much as I loved and reveled in the joy of knowing my son was growing by the day, I couldn't help but wonder at how Rhys might react to said changes.

"You think I would sneer at the changes in your body or a few permanent stretch marks?" Rhys asked, a bit stunned, reading the insecurities hidden behind my words.

"No! I just...I don't-" I sighed, searching for the accurate way to describe my feelings. A surge of emotions hitting as I sought the right words. "I'm afraid that if I find them ugly, if I hate them, then I'll convince you into hating them too. I know you'll keep telling me I'm beautiful and that I look perfect, but with the way my hormones are wreaking havoc on me, I'm afraid I'll complain so much that you'll begin to see what I see. That, or I'll complain so much that you'll get annoyed with me."

Rhysand's look of shock disappeared as he cupped my face gently in his hands, his violet eyes besotted as he stared into mine. "Nothing you could ever say or do will change my opinion of you, or how I look at you, Feyre darling," he started softly. "You are my mate, my wife, my equal, and now the mother of my child. You will always be that, and so much more, in my eyes, no matter how unattractive you might feel at a certain moment."

I smiled as he pressed another kiss to my brow before moving to my lips. I kissed him back eagerly, draping my arms over his shoulders delicately and pouting a bit as he pulled away prematurely.

"You can't just say perfect things like that and expect me not to shower you with kisses for the rest of the hour," I teased.

His grin was mischievous as his eyes raked over my body, still clad in my silk dressing gown, lingering on my breasts appreciatively as he took in those changes as well. "I would gladly take the rest of the day allowing us to get lost in each other's arms, darling, but we did get the final word from Thesan in regard to the summit."

I languished at the loss of our time alone; at the duties that being High Lord and High Lady were currently stealing from our time as a couple but resigned with a nod. "All the final preparations have been made; the date is set?" I asked, staying in his embrace.

He nodded, "We'll leave tomorrow," he said. His expression grew a bit somber as his hands moved back to my waist, thumbs stroking along the curve of my stomach.

What's wrong? I asked through the bond after a moment of silence passed between us.

"It's Beron," he replied aloud. "He responded that he will be accompanying Eris this year, along with the rest of his entourage."

My blood chilled. Along with sending an imploring letter to Tamlin every year, we also sent an invitation to Beron—who always vehemently denied and in his place Eris attended alone. After our secret negotiation with Eris before the war, we often tried to guess when he would call in his favor—to remove his father off the throne so that he may take over as High Lord, but after all these years he still remained ambiguous in those plans. Over the course of the decade, his meetings with Keir decreased, and while we kept a close eye on those visits and made sure to show up every time he did, we were still anxious that he might also be a participant in Keir's coup. Our plan was to confront him at the summit meeting and gather whatever information we could. Beron's attendance now made said confrontation tricky.

"Do you think Eris is involved?" I asked.

Rhys shook his head. "When we struck that deal, he wanted our backing when it came time to install him on the throne. As ruthless as he is, a part of me believed him when he asked for an alliance," he explained.

I chewed on my lip as I contemplated it. As the eldest of the Vanserra sons, Eris was indeed cruel—especially after what had come from his rejection of the marriage alliance with Mor centuries ago. Still, after his aide in the war and his confession of saving Lucien, it was possible he was still an ally.

"I find it hard to believe he wouldn't know of Beron's plans. He claims ignorance at every summit, but would Beron really keep him in the dark for this long?"

Rhys frowned, "After the war, and all the convincing Eris did on our behalf for the war-effort, it's possible he's turned to another one of his sons to prepare for the throne once he's gone. It might even be part of whatever negotiations he's in with Keir—to support the son of his choice to take over as High Lord one day."

I sighed heavily, seeing the truth in his words and nodded, "So how do we question them now?"

"Beron isn't a stranger to openly sharing his distaste, and something tells me he'll really hate this," he said, motioning to my stomach. "So, we wait for him to dig his own grave. That'll be telling for us, and the others."

I gave him a wry smirk, "Something tells me that this summit isn't going to be as peaceful or quaint as it has been in the past."

"Ah Feyre darling, when have any of our summits been quaint?" He regarded with a grin.

I laughed as I remembered our past summits, which almost always ended with us eating dinner with the other High Lords—along with Vassa, Jurian, and Lucien. We were still wary to refer to Jurian as a friend, but he was most certainly an ally as he served by Queen Vassa's side. Regardless, those dinners always ended up being a rather boisterous, yet enjoyable gathering of friends. It was reassuring to know that while our decade-long tenure of peace was currently in question, at least we could rely on the friendships we had formed with the other courts and the mortals.

"Good point," I said with a sigh. "I just hope everyone else will support us."

"You still don't fully realize just how well-liked you are, do you?" Rhys asked with a warm smirk. "The males might not openly admit it, but they greatly admire you, Feyre darling. And from what I've seen between you, Mor, and Viviane, the High Lady of the Winter Court also holds you in high regard."

I smiled again, trying to hide the blush creeping in on my face. "So, what you're trying to say is; I have nothing to worry about?"

He nodded, almost mocking in his tone as he tapped the tip of my nose. "Precisely, my love."

I tried not to laugh, shaking my head at him. "Prick."

"Right again," he said, this time capturing my lips with his as I laughed in reply.

XXX

The next day Rhys and I were the last to arrive at the front foyer of the manor. Our usual entourage of Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Nesta waited for us—along with Amren and Elain to see us off. I had always found the latter a strange pairing, but oddly fitting as well. Elain, always one to refrain from any sort of confrontation, preferred to stay away from our summit meetings. Meanwhile, regardless of her transformation as a true high fae, Amren still possessed that air of anonymity as well as intimidation. Her foreboding nature served us well in the Court of Nightmares and would probably aid in our situation with Beron and Tamlin, but our second-in-command never attended the summits. She often claimed that being surrounded by that many animated personalities would render her so exasperated to the point of a migraine. So, she stayed behind and watched over Velaris—as well as kept a close eye on Elain.

"It's about time you show up," Cassian teased as Rhys and I approached the group. "That youngling is already slowing you two down."

"That tends to happen when a pregnant female has her head buried in a toilet for hours," Rhys snarled back, a protective hand coming to rest on the small of my back.

Cassian's mood shifted to one of guilt and I saw Nesta and Mor turn a scowl of disapproval in his direction. I held my hands up in reassurance, "Ignore him, Cassian, the mating bond is making him grumpy."

"But you're not well," Azriel said before Cassian could reply, his hazel eyes carefully taking in my current state.

Unfortunately, it was true. I woke up with another bout of nausea that kept me in our bathing room for the better part of the morning. I was growing weary of these spells of sickness, especially given how seriously Rhys responded to them. Every time I was the least bit unwell, he insisted I remain in bed. Until today, where I determined that we couldn't postpone this meeting regardless of my illness. It was an unfortunate side effect of pregnancy I would have to continue to deal with, and I refused to let it hinder me further.

"I'm all right. Just a part of the process," I said, hand resting on my stomach.

They all looked at my hand, unease looming in the air, but I straightened my shoulders regardless.

"We should go, I don't want us to be the last ones there. The meeting is already going to be delayed until after I have time to recover from winnowing," I said.

"You and Viviane both need that time," Mor said. "All those haughty males will just have to deal with it."

Nesta huffed in approval, and Amren crossed her arms with a wicked grin. "I say milk that time for all its worth. Though I've never been, I've heard from all of you how well the High Lord of Dawn accommodates his guests."

"I've also heard how well everyone attends to a pregnant female. It's so rare among the fae—us, that I'm sure they'll give you anything you need," Elain chimed in, touching my arm delicately.

I gave them a tired smile and nodded, acknowledging their advice as well as their concern. Rhys had expressed just how weary and pale I looked before we left our rooms, and I was sure they all saw it in me now.

"And if they don't, we certainly will." Azriel added, more out of reassurance to Elain than to me.

"By force if we have to," Cassian joked, some of his ease returning.

"That's very sweet of you all, but I'm fine," I insisted, turning to Rhys.

He nodded before addressing the others, "Why don't you all go ahead? We'll be right behind you, and we'll join you in the chamber once Feyre's recovered."

They all nodded in approval before I could protest; Mor taking hold of Cassian's shoulder just as Nesta placed a hand on his arm wordlessly. Azriel disappeared first before Mor winnowed my sister and Cassian away in a whirl of black. I turned back to Rhys incredulously just as Amren led a wary-eyed Elain down the hall that led to her garden, asking something about a new herb she was growing.

"You didn't have to send them ahead of us," I chided, crossing my arms.

Rhys's returning smile was impish, "Now who's grumpy?"

I shoved his shoulder, "I'm serious Rhys! What will the others think?"

He gripped my arms gently, pulling me back to him. "The others will be placated by Thesan until you and Viviane recover. Once we meet with them all in the chamber, and we reveal your pregnancy, they'll understand," he reassured.

I chewed on my lip, considering. "You're sure they won't feel slighted by seeing our entourage present without us?"

Rhys chuckled, "Feyre darling, I bet they're all taking bets on whether you're pregnant or not as the real reason why we're holding the summit this early in the first place." He kissed my temple. "I hope this paranoia is just a temporary symptom of your pregnancy. You are High Lady of the Night Court, you bow to no one," He reminded me.

I nodded with a withering sigh. "I know. This summit just holds such higher stakes; we're not only announcing my pregnancy to our friends, but we're asking for alliances in a civil war that might break out in our court. It's...nerve wracking."

"Understandably so, my love." He kissed my forehead again, his violet eyes burning into mine with admiration. But we'll get through this together.

I smiled and closed my eyes as dark talons caressed my mental shields gently, I slipped them down—reveling in this quiet moment, this peace, alone with him in our minds. He pulled back, physically and mentally, and grinned at me.

"Shields up?" I asked as mine clicked solidly back into place.

"Always," he purred in my ear as one arm came to wrap around my waist.

I closed my eyes as I felt the darkening effects of winnowing begin to engulf us. Prior to pregnancy, the feeling was quick and had a subtle impact—making me dizzy for a moment as I adjusted to my new surroundings. Over time, it hardly bothered me at all. Now it felt sluggish, the darkness hitting me with a force that felt as if I were being dragged through thick mud, and when the light of my new surroundings finally came into view my mind was racing and spinning as if I had been twirling on pointe with my eyes closed for several minutes.

Unfortunately, this harsh vertigo was seemingly getting worse as my pregnancy progressed. I gripped onto Rhys, my nails digging into his arm as I tried to ground myself. I kept my eyes shut tightly as the spinning continued, and I could hardly register the myriad of voices around me. I knew one belonged to Rhys, presumably talking to whatever sentry awaited us at the Dawn Palace. I winced as I felt myself being swept into Rhys's arms and rested my forehead against the crook of his neck as I gulped in a few deep breaths, fighting against the continuous swirling of my surroundings.

When the world finally stilled and my breaths began to slow and came easily, I heard the gentle timbre of Viviane's voice alongside Rhys's and another male I assumed to be Kallias. I couldn't make out what they were saying at first, but I realized I was slowly gaining consciousness as their voices floated in. I hadn't realized I had fainted until I opened my eyes and saw the intricate details of the ceiling of Thesan's sunstone Palace. Rhys was seated at my side on an impossibly soft lounge, his attention back on me as I muttered incoherently.

"What was that, my love?" He asked, concern all over his face.

I blinked and cleared my throat, "I fainted?" I asked, my hoarse voice.

"Just for a few minutes," came Viviane's voice from beside me.

She was in a lounge similar to mine, only a few feet across from me. Her mate standing guard beside her as she sat upright. My eyes were immediately drawn to her large, round belly; a pale hand perched delicately atop it as her own weary gaze met mine.

"Congratulations," she said happily, though I could hear the exhaustion clear in her own voice.

"Oh, Viviane, look at you," I said, trying to sit up but stopped when I felt another wave of dizziness threaten to hit.

Rhys eased me back onto the back of the lounge, "Don't try to sit up just yet, Feyre. You need more time."

I nodded as I readjusted myself against the pillows on the lounge with his help and smiled back at Viviane, "You're huge," I cooed.

I heard Kallias choke back a snarl, a hand coming to grip the back of Viviane's lounge as she rolled her eyes. "Kallias's male-bonded 'tendencies' assume anytime someone says that to me, I'll be inconsolable," she reasoned.

Kallias cleared his throat as he met my gaze, "Apologies," he glanced back down at his mate, "But to be fair, the one time I said it, you burst into tears and shut me out of our rooms for hours."

"That was different, I had only just begun to show, like Feyre." She said, motioning to me.

I glanced down at my stomach, my hand laid atop it in similar fashion to Viviane. I looked at her belly again, astonished that in only a matter of months my stomach would look the same. When Kallias's eyes trailed to me, Rhys's own unabashed snarl ripped from his throat as darkness seeped into the corners of the room. I gripped his hand to calm him just as Kallias's own guard was thrown up, causing Viviane to heave an impatient sigh.

"Honestly, you two and your male instincts will be thrown out of this room if you don't put a leash on it," she snapped.

I heard Kallias mutter an apology just for her ears as Rhys offered a sheepish grin, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her, wanting to shift the conversation back into a lighter one.

She beamed, running a hand along the expanse of her belly, "Honestly? Exhausted doesn't begin to cover how tired I actually am, but in spite of it all," she looked up at Kallias, her icy blue eyes warm. "We're so excited."

Kallias sat beside her, his hand coming to caress her stomach lovingly. I smiled as Rhys's own hand came to rest on mine.

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl?" I asked.

"A girl," Kallias answered, his eyes never leaving Viviane's stomach.

She beamed, "The midwives told us it was a girl, and they're well known for predicting the gender of our courts younglings. They haven't been wrong in centuries."

My heart squeezed at the painful memory of the Winter Court's younglings; of Amarantha's cruelty wiping through the many young and innocent lives of their court. I knew Rhys felt the same shame as we watched Viviane and Kallias share a tender moment, marveling over her swollen stomach and their unborn daughter, and I squeezed his hand again.

It's in the past, and they are healing. I said down the bond, reassuring him.

Rhys squeezed my hand back and gave me a warm smile in thanks. I can't wait to see you like that, round with our child and both of us counting down the days until his arrival

Let's hope I'll be as graceful as Viviane.

I have no doubt about that, Feyre darling

"Do you know what you're having?" Viviane asked with a sly grin, knowing she was cutting into our silent exchange.

Rhys and I shared another before he announced proudly, "A boy."

"Congratulations Rhysand," Kallias said, crossing over from his mate's side to shake Rhys's hand.

Rhys stood to return the gesture, offering his own congratulations as Kallias motioned my mate over to the open archway in the room—a subtle request for a private word. I turned my attention back to Viviane as the two males stepped away.

"It doesn't get any easier does it?" I warily asked.

Viviane gave me a sympathetic smile, "I'm afraid not. Just wait until you start to feel your little one move," she indicated to her stomach. "This one leaps at just the sound of Kallias's voice."

I stared at her stomach in awe, "She can hear you?"

"So, can yours. In fact, he's been able to hear your voice from the beginning. As he grows, he'll be able to hear other outside voices, especially your mates."

I looked down at the swell of my stomach, distinctly smaller than Viviane's, but still visible through my gown. "All this time I've been teasing Rhys about talking to him, not realizing he could actually hear me all along," I said in awe.

She warmed, "Isn't it remarkable?"

I nodded as I caressed my belly lightly but cast a worried glance back at her when she winced and shifted in her seat. She put up a hand to signal to Kallias, who snapped his head in her direction at the sound of discomfort, that she was alright and huffed in annoyance as she turned back to me.

"Enjoy those movements while he's small, because once you reach the end stages it's all feet and elbows in your ribs," she complained as she pressed against one with two fingers.

"Is she moving right now?" I asked, moving upright in my seat to get a better view of her stomach.

She nodded, "Do you want to feel?"

I blinked, mouth agape and was on my feet—albeit still slowly and cautiously as I was just starting to feel better, and crossed over to sit beside her on the lounge. I saw Rhys glance at me, posing a question down the bond before I reassured him that I was all right. Viviane guided one of my hands to the side of her stomach and I sucked in a shocked breath at the swift kick I felt on my palm.

"That was a kick?" I asked, completely stunned.

Viviane grinned as she nodded, "She's strong, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is," I said, mesmerized as I moved my hand to a different spot on her belly; a grin breaking out on my face as I felt another kick.

Viviane adjusted herself again, "She kicks my ribs a lot more lately, now that she's moved into position."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The midwives say she's moved into the correct birthing position, head down here," she explained, gesturing to her pelvis and then gestured to the apex of her stomach, "And feet up here."

"And that means you're ready to give birth?" I balked, a little nervous that the High Lady of the Winter Court may very well go into labor during our summit.

She chuckled, reading the panic in my face, "Technically yes, but the midwives say I still have a couple of weeks to go. The baby is just getting herself ready."

I nodded in understanding. So far, I hadn't yet considered what labor would be like. Madja had been guiding Rhys and I week by week, sharing with us any warning signs to look out for, but no mentions of labor just yet.

Viviane must have also read that concern in my eyes and placed a reassuring hand on mine, "Don't worry, you'll learn more about the birthing process as you get further along. When I was at your stage, I was just glad not to be puking my guts up every day."

I grimaced, "It was bad for you too?"

She nodded, "There were days I could barely get out of bed!"

I took comfort at that, glad to know I wasn't the only one to have suffered, "But you feel better now?"

She shrugged. "In a sense. I'm not as queasy anymore, but now my back and feet ache—understandably so," she said, motioning to her stomach again.

I smiled empathetically, "Does Kallias never leave your side?" I asked, wondering if their mating bond was as sensitive as Rhys's and mine.

She laughed, "Not for a moment. Especially now that my time is near."

"I'm surprised he's even talking to Rhys right now," I said, gesturing to the two males standing across from one another underneath the intricate open arched window.

"Kallias is probably warning him of what to expect," Viviane said as she followed my gaze.

"What do you mean?"

She sighed, weary. "Our midwives informed us of what the labor process will be like once the time really comes. Not only about the pains and the birth itself, but how...delicate the mating bond is. Females become withdrawn, reserved, as our bodies naturally prepare for the undertaking it will face in order to give birth. Males, on the other hand, grow even more protective if you can believe it; not as aggressive as they are when the bond is new...but more mindful and vigilant. They can apparently sense when their mate is about to go into labor and feel the need to do everything in their power to make sure she is comfortable for that moment."

I watched Rhys and Kallias as she explained, noting the grim line on Rhys's face as Kallias probably went into more depth of what he would experience as a mated male. "Do you think you're getting closer to that time?" I asked.

She shrugged again, "Not yet. As Kallias likes to put it, even this far along I'm as feisty as ever," she laughed lightly and caressed her stomach. "I can tell it worries him though. Bringing about a youngling isn't easy, and I can tell he's anxious to see me in pain."

I frowned, "Will it be terrible?"

She smiled sheepishly, "I'm not sure yet, but I can't imagine it'll be pleasant. But...everyone tells me it's worth it, especially once we see our babies...nothing else is supposed to matter."

The dreamy look in her eyes reassured me and I caressed my own stomach lightly. I can't wait to meet you.

Neither can I. Rhys said through the bond, and I met his gaze as we both exchanged a quick smile before returning to our conversations.

As I kept stroking the gentle swell of my stomach, I couldn't help but wonder if our son could hear us through our bond—if he didn't already have both of his parents voices fully memorized.

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icyharrington · 5 years

Text

Is It Wrong?- The Epilogue (Michael Langdon X Reader)

HELLO ALL!!! here is the long-awaited epilogue to finally finish the is it wrong series. i sincerely hope y’all enjoy this, and i am SO sorry for taking forever to write this!! i had some kind of mental block stopping me, but i finally forced myself to sit down and JUST DO IT. i wanna thank every last one of you who’ve supported this series of filth, especially the ones who’ve been here since the beginning. when i published that first chapter, i never realized just how much joy this fucked up little story would bring into my life. y’all are the best.

plot: it’s been 5 years since your whirlwind fuckfest-turned-romance with your stepbrother, michael langdon, came to its angst-filled end. life is good, but there’s just one thing missing.

warnings: fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, post-high school au, fluff, some angst, cursing/talk of sexual shit/yanno the deal lmao. no smut..... IM SORRY LOL IT JUST DIDN’T FIT INTO WHAT I HAD PLANNED!!! but i hope y’all still like it regardless lmao

word count: 4k

tag list*: @alicecooper19 @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @trelaney @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @kissydevil @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @hisgirlwonder @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @discocalico @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @chocolateandhorror @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @imjustasadhoe @melodylangdon @bahsasblog @codycrazy @sojournmichael @perfect-ginger-maniac @baphomet-wears-gucci @bigstudentpatrolbonk @langdonsgothgf @jazzcowgirl @a-n-t-s @blind-daydream @langdonsblood @ritualmichael @myluciferiscody @fentycoven @gracebtw @bongwaternation @fckinsupreme @thewalkingtrenchcoats @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @hoseokchild @witchywcmans @satanicbimbo @mallorys-winter @langdonskillerqueen @anantarora @aradevil @anemia-doll @muralskins @funtomimagines @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @our-mrlangdon @lotsofhunny @sevenwonderwitch @horrorstreet @kpopmademedo-it @naughtygranger @codyshands @krazycags01 @skullag

*if you asked to be tagged but aren’t on my tag list, i apologize!!! some blogs just can’t be tagged for some reason :(

You looked out the window and onto the rain-slick city streets, captivated by the way the rows of glowing neon signs reflected in the puddles, and you smiled.

Everything was as it should be.

Sandwiched between your two best friends in the back of the Uber, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride at the thought that you’d made it. You’d graduated college, managed to land your dream job, and, most recently, you’d finally been able to get yourself a spacious apartment in the city you loved most. It was the first time in your life that you’d ever felt truly in control of things.

Tonight was a celebration of those accomplishments; you and your friends had arranged to go to the bars by your new apartment that night and get shitfaced like you were college freshmen again, just enjoying each other’s company. You could already feel the warmth of the shots of Fireball you’d pregamed with earlier that night, cheeks flushed and rosy. Life was good.

The Uber screeched to a halt in front of the bar, your friends’ resulting drunken squeals drowning out the rap song that drifted loudly through the speakers. You grinned, waving a quick goodbye to the bored-looking driver before dispensing onto the street with your group, one by one.

Through the glass windows, you saw a lively scene; it seemed as though you’d chosen the perfect night to go out. The bar was dim, lit with overhead lights that shifted from color to color, a band stationed at the stage in full action. People danced, drank, sang; you could see couples making out sloppily in booths. This was going to be a fun night.

Outside the bar stood two skinny boys, dressed casually in ripped jeans and band t-shirts, who you were nearly certain were underage. They chatted as they smoked cigarettes, seemingly unfazed by the chilly breeze and light drizzle coming down over their mops of overgrown hair. One of them, the lighter-haired one of the pair, almost reminded you of…

“Hey ladies,” said one, blowing cigarette smoke from the corner of his mouth with a smirk. You could feel his alcohol-glossed eyes travel up and down your body, drinking in your fishnet-clad legs and prominent curves, accentuated in a maroon leather miniskirt. “You trying to have some fun?”

At this, you and your friends erupted into giggles, long fingernails gripping at each other’s forearms as you fought to balance yourselves.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” your friend said, resulting in a fresh wave of laughter.

Ignoring the boys’ scowls, you continued inside, sighing in relief at the warmth, which was only reinstated by the slew of sweaty bodies flowing throughout the building. The music was loud- perhaps not the most accurate in terms of pitch, but it was certainly good enough to dance to, and, luckily, you were in a dancing mood.

“You shoulda gave them your number,” your friend joked as you made your way to the bar, her voice raised so you could hear her above the noise. “When’s the last time you’ve gotten laid?”

You rolled your eyes. Ever since you’d broken up with your ex a year before, your friends had been nagging you to engage in causal hookups to help you get over him- they’d tried setting you up with any single man they could get their hands on, and had even gone as far as creating a Tinder page in your name. In all honesty, you had no interest in men at the moment; you were far more focused on your career, which was your top priority for now. Sure, you got horny sometimes, but wasn’t that what vibrators were made for? You were twenty-two. You had your whole life ahead of you to find some good dick.

Besides, most men you’d been with in the past could hardly satisfy you, so it seemed almost better to do things on your own. The only man you’d ever actually enjoyed being with was…

You flinched, pained by your second reminder of a certain blond-haired fuckboy that night. Even now, nearly five years since the last time you’d seen him, it hurt to think of his name.

“Three Sex on the Beaches, please,” your friend said to the bartender, before turning back to look at you. “Sounds like something you’re in need of.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers on the wooden surface as you turned to watch the band, which seemed to be some kind of punk-pop-rock hybrid, the members decked in leather and chains.

“You know I’m right,” your friend shouted, running her manicured fingernails through her hair as she craned her neck to look at the bartender over her shoulder. “Hey, the bartender’s pretty cute. And he even kind of seems like your type.”

You glanced back disinterestedly, hardly breaking your attention from the band to look at the man in question. Right now his back was to you, and he appeared to be talking to some drunk girls as he fixed your drinks; his blond hair was slightly outgrown, fraying out in unkempt curls at the base of his neck, toned bicep flexing under the thin shield of his form-fitting white t-shirt as he reached for a bottle of peach schnapps.

From what you could see, he did seem like your type- almost too much so, it almost starting to creep you out how similar this guy looked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You looked away.

“Oh yeah, he is cute,” your other friend said, leaning her elbows back on the bar. “(Y/n), you should pull some moves on him.”

You groaned. “Why are you guys so obsessed with getting me fucked?”

“Because, (y/n). You’re gonna get cobwebs down there if you don’t get your shit clapped soon. Eventually you’re just gonna forget how to fuck altogether,” your friend said, her voice earnest.

“Yeah,” agreed your other friend. “Your vag is gonna close up like a pierced ear when you forget to put in earrings for too long.”

“Three sex on the beaches?” came an amused-sounding voice from behind you, and within the first few syllables of the man’s sentence, you could feel your throat start to close up. You knew that voice anywhere, raspy and rich and warm, even five years since you’d last heard it. But… how? Michael was in California. It had to be some kind of doppleganger working behind the bar. But damn, that was uncanny…

You were almost afraid to turn around, doing so reluctantly, too nervous to care about the fact that you were gnawing all your vampy lipstick off your bottom lip.

“Yeah, that’s ours,” said your friend brightly, accepting her glass, and you decided to rip the band-aid off, forcing your body to turn all the way around.

“So you ladies like sex on the be- (Y/N)?”

Holy ever loving mother of christ. It was him. It was actually. Fucking. Him.

There behind the bar, with plump lips agape and saucer-wide baby-blue eyes, was Michael Langdon, looking almost exactly the same as you remembered. Now, though, most of the baby fat had gone from his face, with one silver earring dangling from his left ear and stubble shadowing his even-more-defined (if that was even possible) jawline. Your mouth went dry, opening and closing as you racked your brain for something to say, heart racing so quickly in your chest you thought you might drop dead at any moment.

“You guys know each other?” your friend asked after several seconds of silence, stretching past you to exchange a glance with your other friend, an immaculately-drawn eyebrow poised in concern.

“Uh- yeah. We, um. Michael, why are you here?” The words didn’t come out exactly the way you’d planned for them to, but his presence had you tongue-tied. In a matter of seconds, you felt like you were eighteen again, broken-hearted and in love and overflowing with red-hot hormones all at once.

“I- (y/n), why are you here?” You could tell that Michael’s lips were beginning to creep into a smirk, and your stomach dipped.

“I just moved to the city,” you said, gripping the edge of the bar and breathing slowly to try and calm yourself. You’d fantasized about finding yourself in this very situation so many sleepless nights before (not that you’d ever admit it), but never had you really expected for something like this to happen. This had to be some sort of profound universe-aligning moment of fate or something, because this was all way too fucking weird to be a coincidence. “I got a job near here. I thought you were in California?”

Michael shook his head with a shrug, sliding your drink across the bar towards you as your friends watched on with quiet fascination. “Haven’t lived there since- damn, has it been three years now? Yeah, I kind of dropped out of college.”

Not really surprising, you thought, relaxing a bit as you lifted your drink to your lips. Michael never had really struck you as a college type.

“So how’d you end up here?” you asked through a wince. The taste of vodka was strong on your tongue even despite the compensating ingredients of your drink, and you still hadn’t managed to get used to the taste of hard liquor even after four years of college.

“Well, I ended up meeting this girl at a party and we became like, boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever,” he said with a half eye-roll, as if he was too cool to admit to something as sensitive as being in a relationship. “But she was in college and I was like, in a band, which didn’t really end up working out, and then she graduated and got a job offer here in the city.”

You licked your lips, picturing Michael as the front man of a rock band, pushing sweaty strands of blond hair back from his forehead as he gripped a microphone with one calloused hand. If only he’d had the talent to match with the look.

“So I was still living with my mom and I needed an excuse to move out, so… I moved with her.” He gave a nonchalant shrug, shirt pulling up slightly at the hem and exposing a sliver of his smooth, firm torso; you were almost ashamed that your mouth began to water.

You tried to ignore the inkling of- jealousy, was it? No, not jealousy, that word was far too harsh for what you were feeling- surrounding the idea that Michael had moved here for a girl, and you went to wash it away with another sip of alcohol. It’d been years. You needed to get over yourself.

“So you live with her now?” you asked coolly, or as coolly as you could manage, looking down into the muddy-organgey abyss of your Sex on the Beach. Your friends, having apparently picked up on the fact that you were in the middle of a very important conversation with a very important person, had taken it upon themselves to join the small crowd surrounding the stage, leaving the two of you alone.

“Fuck no. She ended up fucking my best friend. But I already had this job and I liked the scenery so I stuck around. Wasn’t like there was anything better waiting for me in California.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Now you know how I felt when you fucked (b/f/n).”

“Oh come on, give me a break. I was eighteen. And she had great tits.” He was leaning forward on his elbow now, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and grinning at you. “Admit it. You were just mad ‘cause you wanted to be the one to get the pipe.”

You snorted, trying not to think too deep into the warm, fuzzy feeling that was starting to flourish in the pit of your stomach and travel up towards your fluttering heart. “Oh, please. I used to fucking hate you.”

“Yeah, but you definitely didn’t hate fucking me,” he said with a wink, pink tongue darting out to wet his full bottom lip. “Though I definitely don’t blame you. I was a huge fuckboy.”

“Was?” you joked, taking another sip. Your eyes fell to a small tattoo on his inner forearm- a simple four-leafed clover, which you secretly thought looked sexy on him.

“Still got that smart mouth, I see,” Michael said, pale eyes glinting with a familiar mischievousness that you hadn’t realized you’d missed until right then. “There must be a lucky guy on the receiving end of all that attitude.”

“Nope,” you said flatly, flipping your hair over your shoulder and leaning forward, perhaps subconsciously hoping for your cleavage to become a bit more pronounced. “Men bore me these days.”

“Men? Or just all men who aren’t me?” He flashed you a devious sideways grin, and your mouth fell open at his boldness. “You’re looking pretty good tonight, baby sis.”

“Hmm. I don’t think that title is quite accurate anymore,” you retorted, hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered his usage of the old pet name had gotten you- apparently he still had that particular talent intact. “But you don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He glanced down at his shirt, which you only just now noticed was stained with some kind of brown liquor. “Not exactly the kind of thing you’d want to be wearing when running into your first love.”

Your heart stirred in your chest, and you could see Michael’s cool smile fade into a panicked wince. First love. You were Michael’s first love.

“First love, huh?” you said softly, tilting your head to one side to regard all of Michael’s handsome features at once. There’d always been some semblance of hope, deep in your belly, that Michael’s feelings for you all those years ago had surpassed simple lust and teenage hormones, but you’d of course had your doubts.

“Well, I mean. Not love, but like. You know.” Michael lifted one hand to scratch the back of his neck, and you could almost swear you saw a dusting of pink cross his porcelain cheeks. “Actually, I mean, yeah. You kind of were my first love. Kinda fucked up that my first love was my stepsister, but…”

“Well, you were my first love too. Unfortunately. You put me through hell, you know that?” You were only half-joking, idly twirling a strand of (h/c) hair around your finger, shifting your weight onto one leg to jut out your hip.

“God, yeah. I know. I suck.” He shook his head, loose waves falling to obscure his hooded eyes, and quickly he tucked it back behind his ears. “I really am sorry, you know.”

You shrugged. “We were just stupid, horny teenagers. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, I mean, but I never really stopped feeling guilty about the way I treated you. You gave me so many chances that I never deserved,” he said, leaning in close so he didn’t have to scream for you to hear him. “You were the perfect girl for me and I took you for granted.”

“Well, like I said…” you paused to take a swig of your drink, nursing your light intoxication, which had affected you to the point where the flavor of alcohol no longer made you cringe. “We were stupid teenagers. And I was very stupid to keep taking you back. Especially after that god awful Applebee’s date.”

He laughed, and your insides warmed at the sound, a light giggle that you only ever reserved for crushes unintentionally passing your lips. Why did this all feel so right?

“Look, I was broke, okay?” He moved in a little closer, crystal blue eyes locked with yours, and for a fleeting moment you thought- or, rather, hoped- that maybe he’d kiss you. Of course, you knew that such a prospect was only wishful thinking, but still you felt a sting of disappointment when he didn’t. “But I can promise you that if I took you out now, it wouldn’t be to Applebee’s.”

You took a second to respond, your clouded mind trying to figure whether or not that’d just been a proposition of sorts. Fuck it. “You might just have to prove that to me.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, this time a little softer than his usual devilish smirk. “A girl like you really wants some loser bartender to take her out?”

You cocked your head. “A girl like me?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, look at you.” He sighed, dragging his gaze up and down your body, which you had to admit looked pretty bangin’ in the outfit you’d chosen for tonight. “I mean, it goes without saying that you’re a fuckin’ ten. But you’re also smart. And successful.”

“How do you know I’m successful?” There was a tiny part of you that was eating this up, having the once-big-and-bad Michael Langdon practically crawl at your feet. “I never even told you what I do for a living.”

“I just assumed, since you said you just moved here, and we both know this city ain’t cheap. But I always knew you’d be successful. I mean, you’ve always known how to go after what you want.” he said. “Plus that outfit looks expensive as hell.”

At this, you struck a dramatic pose, having drank enough that you didn’t really care about making yourself look stupid. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was expensive as hell, but it definitely was worth a few paychecks.”

Michael clicked his tongue but chuckled, a longing expression apparent on his sculpted face. “You’re out of my league.”

You scoffed, slurping up the last of your drink. “I don’t believe in leagues. I mean, I pulled you when we were in high school, didn’t I?”

“You were out of my league then, too.”

“Oh, please.” Such a statement was enough to make you laugh out loud, perhaps a bit too loudly, but you thought that might’ve been propelled by the fact that you were pretty damn drunk now. You shoved the now-empty glass towards Michael, settling your hands on your hips. “You were like, the hottest guy in school.”

He raised a brow, a cocky half-smile stretching across his lips. “Oh yeah?”

You hiccuped (you always had been a lightweight). “Duh.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, picking up your glass and bringing it off to the side to be cleaned. When he returned, he was brandishing a bottle of Windex and a stained washcloth, which was draped effortlessly over one broad shoulder. For a reason that could not, for the life of you, be explained, this view of Michael compelled you to squeeze your thighs together.

“You know,” said Michael slowly, spraying the wooden surface of the bar with chemical blue, “it’s kind of creeping me out how weird this all is. Like, us both ending up here. After five years.”

“I know, right?” Your eyes fell onto Michael’s veined hand, gripping the cloth that was now being used to rub down the bar, and you fought back the sudden urge to run your fingers over it. “I mean, it’s like, everything is aligning so perfectly. It has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

“Didn’t we say that to each other? That night on the beach right before our parents split? That if things were meant to work out, they would one day.” He sucked his lips into his mouth, taking in a sharp inhale and letting his head fall back towards the ceiling.

“It’s like everything’s finally fallen into place.” You breathed, allowing the amalgamated scent of liquor and cigarettes and cleaning chemicals to consume you, hips swaying back and forth to the mellow cover song the band was playing, imperfect but beautiful. “We’d be stupid not to try things again.”

“We would, wouldn’t we?” Michael said, tossing the rag off to the side once he’d finished his cleaning, the surface of the bar now so shiny you could practically see your reflection in it. “I promise this time, if you really want to give me a second chance, I won’t fuck things up. I’ll treat you how you should’ve always been treated.”

There was something about the look in his eyes that made you believe him.

From the crowd by the stage came a chorus of voices, most off-key, as they began to sing along to the band’s cover song, which you were certain you’d heard before, but couldn’t quite place when.

And all that is now

“Hey, I love this song,” Michael said suddenly, as if it hadn’t just been playing for the last several minutes, “fuck, this brings me back to high school.”

You wondered if he still chewed cinnamon gum, remembering the sweet spicy scent of his hot breath on your throat, late at night in the back of his cluttered sports car, the dashboard lights illuminating your half-dressed bodies. You wondered if he still played video games with those ridiculous oversize headphones, if he still liked to take midday naps, if he still fell asleep to South Park reruns.

Most of all, though, you wondered about the things you’d never witnessed, all the things you’d missed over the past five years.

And all that is gone

“Do you still chew cinnamon gum?” you asked abruptly, too drunk to worry about whether or not such a question was weird to ask.

He wiggled his eyebrows, reaching into the back pocket of his torn black skinny jeans (god, he’d always looked so good in those) to retrieve a crushed pack of gum, CINNAMON printed in red lettering across the front.

“Hell yeah,” he said, pulling out a piece and tossing it to you. “That shit beats mint by far.”

You unwrapped the gum and popped it in your mouth, immediately flooded with memories the moment you began working into it with your back teeth.

And all that’s to come

He reached out to flip the foil wrapper over, smoothing out its creases before grabbing a black pen from next to the register. You watched through your dreamlike haze as he jotted down a series of numbers in crooked, loopy handwriting, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth in concentration. Underneath the phone number he wrote something else, in bold capitals, turning the paper around and sliding it towards you with a wry grin.

666-425-0493

LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN

You took the paper, folding it up and shoving it deep into your skirt pocket, inadvertently sinking your teeth into your lower lip. “Maybe I’ll call you sometime, big bro.”

For a fraction of a second, he landed a glance on your chest, lips twitching upwards just slightly at the corners. “Oh, I’ll be posted up until you do.”

“How about another Sex on the Beach?” you said, even though you were drunk enough on Michael’s presence as it was; it felt like you were floating in the blackness of outer space all while rolling with the soft, turning waves of the ocean, and you couldn’t help but want to feel this way forever.

And everything under the sun is in tune

“Coming right up, ma’am,” came Michael’s teasing reply, making you squirm; your eyes fell shut as you allowed the band’s blaring drum and bass to swallow you whole, swaying aimlessly to the rhythm, your head lolling back and forth.

The music was loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and the sound only increased as the song came to its powerful end, your teeth chattering with adrenaline as an electric chill made its way up your spine.

But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

When you opened your eyes, Michael was back in front of you, and all but the colorful overhead lights had dimmed; the entire bar was potent with color, Michael’s angular features appearing so much softer now, cast with bright purple, then blue, then a shade of pink so vivid it looked almost otherworldly.

Your eyes connected with his for what must’ve been the thousandth time in all the months you’d known him, but you felt, deep in your bones, that this was really only the first.

You had a good feeling about this.

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