#had several questionable conversations that i sincerely hope no one actually listened in on

[gfcheol]

late blooming pt2 | j.wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x f!reader

genre: slowburn, sugar baby!au, smut

word count: 5k

tags: emotionally constipated trustfund kid!wonwoo, snarky roommate!jeonghan, food ment, insecure artist!reader, fingering, making out, jealous!wonwoo, miscommunication, angsty ending

tag list: @bangchanbabygirlx , @amiga-qmilagraso , @listxn , @bloomyroses , @yoozuku, @revluv909 , @laylasbunbunny , @thinkinboutwonu , @springdaybreaks , @97-liners , @weakforsvt

In those two weeks, since you'd agreed to let Mr Jeon Wonwoo financially take care of you, you'd learned three things about him.

One - He'd gushed about every cat picture or meme you'd sent to him, commenting on the pretty fur or the shape of their triangle ears. During one phone call, you even got him to meow for you. You'd laughed almost a solid minute at the sound of his dark voice, clearly enunciating a very lifelike "meow". If only you had thought of recording it.

Two - He loved to read. You weren't really sure about which books were to his liking but everytime you'd mentioned an author you'd liked, he'd tell you he was either familiar with their work or had read their work as well. It was difficult, to say the least, not to feel intimidated by his intellect, though you didn't mind as much once you'd realized that, even though he already knew so many literary works, he still listened quite intently to your opinions on them.

And three - He asked a lot of questions.

It was almost embarrassing, in hindsight. How much you were willing to tell him, about your upbringing, weird food habits you'd developed as a child, about the time Mingyu and you got food poisoning from your favourite fast food place, back in college. It felt easy to confide in him. Your own personal confession booth. Wonwoo was a good listener and despite leaving snarky comments here and there - there was understanding laced in his every word, making it hard not to fall deeper into conversation with him. Maybe, just maybe, it had helped that all of these talks happened, while you were on the phone with him, either on your way from work or tucked in bed.

"It's probably bad timing", he had sighed, "but I'll have to leave the country for a week. It's purely out of formality, although necessary. Or so I've been told, at least."

His explanation had seemed sincere enough, a tired smile playing on the edge of his lips, yet you couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment from you. Selfish desires be damned, you actually hoped to spend time with the man who'd provide you with money for whatever reason. It still felt somewhat strange to you, no matter how rational he had been while explaining his intentions with you, the skeptic in you was hard to please.

You'd only shaken your head in response, your "No, it's fine! I hope you'll still manage to have fun", sounded insincere even to your own ears, though Wonwoo had enough courtesy not to mention it.

You hadn't quite expected him to still try to stay in touch, thinking his hectic schedule would suffice in keep him busy. But apparently, Wonwoo had a tendency to defy your expectations about him. His first text had comee as a surprise to you, your eyes almost bulging out of their socksts, as you sat slumped and exhausted in the driver's seat of your car. Work had been the usual hell, customers and colleagues robbing you of every nerve you had left until they left you a complete shell of yourself - Not like you hadn't been used to it.

[Wonwoo J - 17:55] Are you as bored as me?

You had blinked several times, mind feeling a bit too numb, attempting to remember that, yes, this was indeed The Jeon Wonwoo, billionaire, business man, and art snob, texting you oh so casually.

[y/n - 17:56] more like tired rip just got done working

[Wonwoo J - 17:57] Oh? Hope I didn't interrupt anything

[y/n - 18:00] literally sitting in my car rn lmao

[y/n - 18:01] gimme 15 and then i'm free to chat

You remembered rushing home, quick to brush Jeonghan's half hearted greeting off, ready to lock yourself in your bedroom and panic an appropriate amount before calling him back. Though in the end, all panic had ebbed away the second his tired voice muttered your name in greeting, at the other end of the line. And despite your worries, it'd felt so natural to share your day with him - His faint laugh, whenever you'd complain, proving to be your very own remedy against bad moods.

Maybe he'd merely been polite this whole time, your insecurities were quick to point out. A cynical viewpoint for sure, but not unrealistic. Not impossible.

It'd be so easy to drop all caution, to ignore every bad experience and disregard every hurtful comment ever thrown your way by previous romantic partners. It'd be so easy to trust the silly old fashion emojis he sent your way, or the way his laughter grew louder everytime you gasped out in mock offense to any of his jabs. It'd be so easy to let your heart ache at every whispered goodnight you'd mumbled into the speaker of your phone. But easy was naive. You weren't a teenager anymore, you knew better or were supposed to at least.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Hmm, Episode IV. Easy question. Obi Wan might be hot but he doesn't beat childhood nostalgia. Next question."

"Obi Wan hot? Questionable. Hey, how come you're not tired yet? I thought you said that your shift was draining 'as fuck'."

"Why do you have to remember everything I tell you, oh my godddd. You know what, I change my mind, guys who only pretend to listen get a bad rep."

"You just don't want me to point out that you should stop rambling about Star Wars and catch some sleep."

"Not my fault that we're not in the same timezone right now, Mister. C'mon, ask me another question."

"Fine... Have you always been this difficult or do I get special treatment from you?"

"... Wonwoo, I hope you know how lucky you are that you're not within fighting distance."

"Aw, I was hoping you'd get so huffy, you'd hang up and finally rest."

"You're mean."

"And yet you're still insisting on talking to me."

"AND a smug bastard."

"Goodnight, y/n. I'm... looking forward to talking to you tomorrow. I'm uh- enjoying our talks."

"Oh. Y- yeah, same. I mean- goodnight to you too."

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jeonghan's form was draped across the couch, arm covering his eyes to shield him from the intrusive rays of sunshine that dared to tickle his oh so sensitive face. The apartment lay in comfortable silence, a rare occurrence these days but not unwelcome. You aimlessly scrolled through your phone, enjoying the luxury of being lazy on one of your rare off days.

Usually, it wouldn't be you who'd have to suffer because of Hannie's tendency to take up too much space. It'd become quite normal to see his current conquence and him lounging on the couch, limbs, as well as lips, entangled in a disgustingly open display of love. You'd roll your eyes, questioning yourself, if you'd ever been as bad as him, while you were with any of your exes. You shuddered at the mere thought of them. The past was the past for a reason, wasn't it? You should know this by now.

"Wanna watch a movie today?", you asked absentmindedly, eyes still glued to the colorful pictures of your screen - Pinterest truly was a rabbit hole to get lost in.

Your roommate barely reared his head. "Only if i get to pick. Sick of watching Pride and Prejudice over and over with you."

A groan. "Fine... No movie then." Giggles erupted out of you when you felt Jeonghan's foot digging into your side.

"Is your sugar daddy not gonna call you today?" You felt the heat in your face rise at the teasing edge of his voice. "Or are nudes enough to get him to shut up?"

Your head perked up, your tone quiet "Nudes?"

"As in 'sexy pictures to help him beat his meat on his sexy man business trip'?", Jeonghan raised his arm to glance you up and down.

For some reason, it had never even crossed your mind that this very adult man with adult needs would desire - well - adult pictures from you. You were simply too enthralled by the sweet words thrown your way, that the skeptic within your mind forgot to remind you that this was not, in fact, a normal relationship. Money and talent and contracts were involved in this. And while a large part of why Wonwoo felt drawn to you, must have been your potential as an artist, there was very likely sexual interest as well. Embarrassment simmered in the depths of your stomach, groaning into the air. "Oh fuck."

"Wow, you've never even sent him a sexy selfie or something?"

"Well, it never really came up in conversations!", you squeaked, voice too nervous, too shrill to sound rational.

He pushed himself off his cozy, little spot on the edge of the sofa, a grin now evident on his features. "You guys don't flirt?"

"You know what?", you narrowed your eyes at him, shoving his leg away from your side. "Single you fucking sucks! At least your girlfriends all liked it when you were being an absolute dick to them. Now you just kinda- inflict it all upon me. I can't help it that you're bored without a girlfriend!"

The dig didn't seem to affect him much, the sheer Schadenfreude he felt was enough to brush off your insult. How in the living hell did he always have the upper hand in every argument you guys had? Your leading theories were either A) he had enough practice in torturing his little sister and was happy enough to treat you the same way or B) he was one of Lucifer's very own lackeys. Your money was on theory B. One of these days, you'd find the portray he'd sold his soul for in order to stay young and live out his hedonistic lifestyle - Oscar Wilde style.

"I'm sure I'd be way less bored, if we could watch a different movie that doesn't star Keira Knightley's angry pout", Jeonghan huffed, raising his brow - and while you knew, this was a mere attempt to get a rise out of you, you couldn't help but gasp in offense.

"How dare you? She's a delight in-", your phone vibrated in your lap, attention shifting immediately to the notification you'd received. Your anger was put on halt as you noticed, it was indeed Wonwoo, who had texted you, offense melting away in an instance. "A sec", you mumbled.

"Oh, he's got you whipped!", he laughed.

Pressing on the notification, you gave him one last exasperated look, lips pressed into a pout, "Hannie, please."

[Wonwoo J - 14:12] Flying back today. Care to have dinner at my place tomorrow?

"Oh." Your heart felt like a young bird, threatening to escape the cage that was your ribcage, beating so loud, you barely reigstered your own reply. You'd met him before - more than once, even! - why were you so fucking nervous? Was this normal? Oh god. "H- he invited me to his place tomorrow."

"Oh fun, spicy second date then?"

"What?! Oh my god, he wants to fuck me?! I- I haven't even shaved in like a month!" You shot up onto your knees, fingers still firmly grasping your phone as you stared down at your roommate with panic in your eyes. "He wants to fuck me, right? This is what this means! Right? Right?!"

"Holy shit, calm down." The way his tone remained basically unbothered, only added fuel to the whirlwind of thoughts coursing through your brain, a string of whines slipping past your lips.

"What if he wants to fuck?"

"Then he wants to fuck", he shrugged, nonchalant smirk slowly creeping back onto his face. No matter how annoying Hannie could be, his quiet confidence worked wonders on you in times of stress. "You don't have to do anything, geez. If you also wanna smash your bits together, then wear something sexy or something. Didn't your ex get you the tacky lace set for your birthday? If you don't - then don't? He didn't buy you, y/n, you can say 'no', I'm pretty sure he'll live."

This gave you pause. He had a point, a pretty good one even. Nothing explicit had been stated so far, as to what Wonwoo expected from you in your arrangement. There was... an undeniable interest he had you, that much seemed obvious to you - yet the details were fuzzy to you. What was it that had piqued his interest in you? Sure, there was you talent for are - which you'd have to discuss with him again tomorrow evening - but what else was there? A teeny, tiny part of you screamed and begged for it to be romantic interest - though the more rational part within you wasn't quite so sure. He's a man who could have anything and anyone. So why would he require someone like you in his life, if not, for some strange power fantasy that you probably would never really understand.

You let yourself fall back to your previous position, brows still furrowed as you pinched the bridge of your nose in a feeble attempt to calm your approaching headache. The question still stood - Would you want to fuck Wonwoo? All insecurities and feelings of pressure aside, did you want him? He was attractive, that's for sure. There was something special in the way he presented himself, you felt, a bit awkward, a bit stiff, yet still elegant. You liked the way he texted like a man 20 years his senior, liked that he sent you passages of books he'd read, liked his deep laugh. You swallowed.

"Why the fuck do you still remember the lace set Jonah got me?", you grinned, wrinkling your nose at the memory of your ex.

"Because, for some reason, he thought it was necessary to ask me for my opinion. Such a charmer."

You smacked his arm. "And then you guys got me the tacky one? Tsk, you call yourself my friend."

Jeonghan's smirk only deepened. "You mean, you call me your friend. I just kinda let you." Another smack, this time a tad less gentle than the previous one. "Ow- Alright, alright! Put that energy into your hookup."

Moreso a question than a statement, your gaze shifted back to the display of your phone, thumbs hovering over your keyboard. "Shush you", you snickered. "I gotta respond before he thinks I'm blowing him off."

[y/n - 14:27] sounds good xx pick me up from my place?

Wonwoo's reply came in a matter of seconds.

[Wonwoo J - 14:28] Send me your address

[Wonwoo J - 14:28] I'll send my driver to pick you up.

[y/n - 14:30] will do!! have a safe flight!!!

It should be illegal to feel this giddy about dinner plans. Illegal enough for you to be locked up, so you could calmly succumb to your feelings of yearning for a man so incredibly out if your league, it almost hurt. A sigh on your end, "He'll be so disappointed to hear I haven't done any painting while he was gone."

"Eh", Jeonghan chuckled. "I'm sure that won't be the first thing on his mind once he sees you."

♡♡♡♡♡♡

John Everett Millais, you read, tuning out the distinct chatter of your parents' conversing with your father's work colleague. Your seven year old self had been enthralled by the dark hues on the painting you'd noticed above their dinner table. A woman floating in water, hair a soft shade of red, mouth agape, surrounded by water and flowers - you could feel something profound stir inside your gears then. The unknown evoked emotion you had no inkling of yet, though it felt, as if she could pry them out of you just by her presence.

Why was she in the water? You'd wondered to yourself, your dessert that consisted of cheap strawberry ice cream, completey forgotten. And why was she still wearing her dress? Was she a rich lady? A princess maybe? A sad princess who wanted take a bath in a pond? But if she was a princess, then didn't she have a bathtub in her castle?

Maybe the painter, John Something, knew the answer to all the questions that were floating inside your brain, distracting you from the sweet taste on your tongue. Maybe there were secrets only painters knew when they looked upon a scene to capture. You frowned, thinking about your own pictures. While yours gained a lot of praise from your parents, comparing them to the glamour and sadness of Princess in front of you, let a strange sense of disappointment course through your veins.

And you quickly realized - You weren't one to settle for disappointment. There was a drive, inside that bundle of shame you were subjected to. A drive to do better, to improve, to create. A smile crept its way to your lips. Maybe your mother was right to bring you along to the boring business dinner after all.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

You almost jumped at the sound of your phone vibrating with a new notification, nerves already on edge.

[Wonwoo J - 18:02] Should arrive in ca 10 min. I'll see you later.

As soon as you'd received the text, you rushed to the bathroom mirror, reapplying your bold shade of lipstick for the millionth time that evening. Your reflection stared back at you with wide eyes. Would he notice the amount of effort you put into looking effortless?

The drive to Wonwoo's apartment was relatively quiet. His driver had parked directly in front of the entrance to your building, exactly ten minutes after you'd gotten the confirmation, a polite smile graced his lips. It felt a bit too spacious to sit all by yourself in the back, windows tinted black and driver completely silent, focused on the busy road ahead of you. Although, you'd most likely dislike it even more, if he had decided to start a conversation with you - You didn't quite mind, being alone with your thoughts. Fidgeting with the hem of your dress, you listened to the hum of the motor, attempting to drown out the sound of your rapid heartbeat. This would be your second maybe-something-akin-to-a-date... an almost-date. Or did the several phone calls count as something?

"Miss?"

You blinked a few times, turning your head towards the driver, fingers still clutching your dress. "Yes?"

There was a hint of a smile in his tone, as he raised his brows, meeting your eyes through the reer view mirror. "We're here."

"Oh", was your reply, only now realizing how the car had come to a halt, the hum of the engine gone. With heavy legs, you shuffled to open the door. "Thank you so much for picking me up."

He gave you a nod, smile lines appearing around the corners of his eyes. "No problem, Miss. Have a wonderful night."

The calmness of this stranger acted like an antidote to the anxiety poisoning your thoughts, offering a shy smile in return. The kindness stood in stark contrast to the playful harshness your best friend usually soothed you with, though nonetheless effective.

The building was huge, entry halls adorned with minimalistic art, you'd never even seen before. The simplicity of the design, you mused, was too pretentious to admire. The echo of your shoes hitting the marble floor, felt like an intrusion. The gall, the echo sneers at you in your mind, the nerve you must possess daring to trespass. Wealthiness evidently could not buy good taste.

After a dreadfully long elevator ride (and a very awkward coversation with the concierge), you finally find yourself right amidst Wonwoo's four walls. If you could call it that. You weren't quite sure what you'd expected to find - A coffin and a chandelier? White walls and a furniture made of glass? Though reality was far more grounded than one could expect. A row of paintings adorned his walls - some of them modern, some of them clsssics - soft music was coming from, what you presumed to be, his kitchen. It almost seemed... ordinary. You frowned.

"Y/N?", you heard his voice from somewhere out of sight. "Yeah, hi! It's me! The uh- concierge? Let me up, I hope that's okay."

His reply was instant. "Why wouldn't it be? I told him I'm expecting a lady." Your frown melted into a smile at his words. "Come to the kitchen, will you? Dinner's almost done."

Rounding the corner, your ran your fingers through your hair as one last effort to tidy yourself up more. Any confidence you'd tried to muster up prior, faltered at the sight of him. Gone was the usual business suit, traded for a nice black shirt and jeans. You were painfully aware of your contrasting attire, the urge to curse yourself feeling unbearable. His back was facing you, unscrewing a way to expensive looking bottle of wine.

"Hi", you greeted again.

His eyes immediately lit up as he turned to face you, a smile hanging off his lips. "You- Oh, wow." his brows shot up, his long fingers adjusting the frame of his glasses, as if he to check the validity of the image in front of him. "You look-"

"I'm sorry if this is too much? I don't know why I thought, you'd meant like a proper dinner, that's on me", the longer you spoke, the heavier your chest, your brain begging you to shut up already.

Wonwoo merely shook his head, softly laughing. "Well, I'm not complaining, don't worry-"

"Also so sorry I interrupted you, I didn't mean to." A pause followed.

"Hm", he cocked his head to the side, gaze searching your own. His frame, even in casual clothing was just as intimidating as you remembered. "Still so shy and nervous? I didn't expect that."

"I'm not shy-"

"But the evening's still young", he smiled at the appearance of your pout. "And I hope you like take out. I tried cooking one of Mingyu's recipes and it was... not as easy as expected."

Any snarky comment died right on your tongue at his tone. Taking one of the half full glasses located on his marble counter top, you quipped, "Harder than it looks to recreate artistry like that, right?"

He gazed down at you, taking a sip of wine himself. "And you're a great cook then, I assume?"

Without meaning to, your shoulder brushed against his arm, the proximity after all these evenings getting to know him making you dizzier than the alcohol. This is the same Wonwoo, you reminded yourself. The same cat loving, nerdy man you've been talking to all those days. "That's for you to find out next time."

For a blink of an eye you thought you saw his chest rise and shoulders stiffen, though his face remained the same mask of indifference you were used to. You considered this a triumph. "Well uh- I can't wait to find out."

Once dinner finally arrived, korean food made a restaurant you'd never heard of, you settled in his dining room with your second glass of wine of the evening. Deciding to ignore the gnawing question of just how expensive the bottle must have been. The food was way too well prepared to let bad thoughts ruin it either way. Conversation was just as easy as you remembered it. You'd gasp at any teasing remark and he gave affirming nods when you vented about work, art or your very impossible roommate. Though the latter conversation topic never seemed to earn you any smiles.

"And Layla was the...?", his face scrunched up as he tried to remember, leaning back in his chair. "Waitress? She seems sweet from what you've told me, what happened?"

You shook your head, giggling into your glass. "Exactly! What happened!", a sigh. "But he's great. Sometimes that is. When he's not lying to make me look stupid or convince me to do dumb stuff."

"Like what?", he asked, fingertip brushing alongside the glass. You really did hope he had yet to catch you staring at his hands.

You waved him off with a flick of your wrist, groaning at the memory of all of Jeonghan's previous shenanigans. "One time he gaslit me - and yes, it was gaslighting! - into making me do his laundry for a month! A month! I can't believe I fell for it too", you'd bury your face in your hand if you didn't have any makeup on. "He even convinced me to wear all this, can you believe him? Dress, lace set, hairdo-"

"Lace set?", Wonwoo repeated. Your smile dropped in an instant.

"What?"

"You said he made you wear a lace set." It wasn't a question, really. It was a statement the needed an answer. A response, an explanation, a confession. Every fiber of your being stood alert, ready to flee the scene and fling yourself off the balcony if needed.

Your eyes drifted to your empty plate, looking for an appropriate response in the remnants of your kimchi rice. "I did?"

"I'm afraid so." You weren't sure when Wonwoo had left his seat, his long legs looking too handsome as he sauntered closer to you. "Were you hoping on me seeing you in it tonight?", he asked, now only a few steps away from you.

A trap question. He knew your answer already, you were sure. It was the hidden sadistic nature in him that urged you out of your shell and into the humiliation of utter vulnerability. In a last act of defiance, you blinked up at where he stood, not paying heed to the beating of your heart. "Hannie told me to-"

"Since when are you doing what anyone tells you to?" The warmth of his fingers found your cheek. His touch felt electrifying. "If you don't want me to see, all you have to do is tell me. Use your words."

Your breath hitched in your throat. "I... hoped you would."

A smirk spread on his lips, bending down until he was on eye level with you. Licking his lips, his eyes drifted down to yours, an unspoken question lingering between you, before he rasped, "That's what I thought."

He had you on your back, dress long discarded between the couch and the dining room, as you lay there writhing in your underwear, his mouth pressing open mouthed kisses to you neck. The friction of your bra against the silky fabric of his shirt felt almost sinful as his hand reached for your chest, quiet whines slipping past your lips. Whatever you'd hoped for, you'd never have thought he'd actually want you like this. Maybe the alcohol had messed with your brain too much.

"You're so pretty like this", Wonwoo breathed, slipping your panties to the side before he ran his thumb over your clit. A sharp inhale escaped you, body jolting against him in surprise. He smiled into your skin. "Let me hear you."

It felt forbidden to see him still this in control, while you were somewhere between bliss and anxiety. He lay fully clothed on top of you, using his knees to spread your thighs apart for easier access, glasses foggy. You'd almost giggle at the sight. "Fuh- Oh", you gasped, a finger finally sliding into you, wetness coating his hand in the blink of an eye. "Wonwoo..."

A soft laugh. "Yeah?"

"More", you demanded, hips grinding into his steadily moving hand.

"More? Whatever could she mean?" He grinned at your frustrated huff, kissing the top of your lace covered breasts.

"You know!", you grumbled. Or whined. You weren't quite so sure anymore.

He complied to your demands, adding another, long finger, heel of his palm rubbing against your sensitive clit. Moan after moan tumbled from your parted lips, pressure rising in the pit of your stomach with every flick of his wrist. It'd been too long for you to properly relish this moment, pleasure almost too fleeting before even falling off the edge. An artist's curse to live in melancholy and nostalgia.

As your hip brushing against his crotch, he finally let a moan of his own slip, squeezing his eyes shut. The sight was almost too much to bear for you. He looked so handsome like this - cheeks flushed, slightly out of breath. You stared in awe. "Your pussy's so tight", he sighed.

"Won-" a gasp. And with a brush against your spongie spot inside you and the friction against your clit, you let go. Pleasure illuminating your whole body. Wonwoo could swear you shined as bright as any beacon at that moment.

He kissed your lips for the final time, soft and sweet, before he gathered you up in his arms, hugging your fucked out form closet to his chest. "What about you?", he heard you mumble, face buried in the crook of his neck. He only shook his head, reaching for a blanket to cover you with. "I'm tired."

You'd slept surprisingly well on his couch, the fabric of the cushions softer than most of the bedsheets you'd slept in. Though as you stretched out to find the man on your mind, you were met with an empty spot. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes, after sex exhaustion and alcohol making your lids feel especially heavy this morning. "Oh fuck", you cursed softly, images from last night flooding your mind. The memories of his lips on your skin, his kisses, his hands... It was way too early to think about all of this.

You rolled to your side, on the search for your phone, a creme colored envelope catching your eye immediately. Careful not to tear the paper, you squinted trying to make out Wonwoo's handwriting.

Last night was lovely. I transferred some money to your account - There's a new art dealer in town. Let's talk soon.

Money. Oh. Yeah, you remembered. This is what this was about, how could you forget? It's an arrangement first and foremost. Your fingers felt numb as you held the piece of paper in the too big, too expensive, too empty apartment of Jeon Wonwoo. Wealthy trustfund kid, CEO to be Jeon Wonwoo. How could you forget?

[come-away-with-me87]

Love & Angst Chapter 18

Chapter 17 here

******

You had a sudden, impulsive idea. Instead of changing out of your date clothes into your night clothes, you grabbed your purse and keys, got into your car, and started feverishly driving. You put absolutely no thought into what you were doing whatsoever. While you were driving, it started to downpour. Of course, why not? That is fitting for this evening. You kept driving, when you suddenly found yourself in front Heights Alliance, the dormitory campus. You had only been in the teachers' dorms twice, but you remembered exactly where to go. You found yourself walking in the pouring rain, where you suddenly ran into a red-haired girl under an umbrella, presumably a student. "Are you okay, miss?" she asked in a sweet voice. "I am, I'm sorry if I scared you…" you trailed off, not knowing her name. "I'm Ochaco Uraraka. You didn't scare me, it was just surprising to see a woman on campus, especially walking around in the pouring rain."

You smiled sweetly at her, "it's nice to meet you, Ochaco. My name is Y/N. I actually have to go to the teacher's dorms, but I know where they are. I'm sorry again if I startled you." She smiled in return, "it's okay, Miss Y/N. Would you like to borrow my umbrella for the rest of your walk?" Oh my, she was such a sweet girl. "No, but thank you, Ochaco. I really appreciate it. It was a pleasure meeting you!" you exclaimed to her as you waved and walked away towards the teachers' dorms. "Goodnight, Miss Y/N!" she said. You were sure you were an absolute vision at that point. While you weren't in it long, you were absolutely drenched from head to toe. Your mascara was more than likely running down your face, but you didn't care. You were there for a purpose.

As you continued to walk towards the teachers' dorms, who else do you run into, but Toshinori? "Y/N! What a pleasant surprise. What on earth brings you here during this downpour?" he asked with sincerity. "Hi, Toshinori! I would hug you, but you're nice and dry under your umbrella, and I am soaked to the bone," you replied. He suddenly ushered you to an awning where you could get out of the rain, to where you graciously thanked him. You two sat down on the ledge, where he once again asked, "what brings you here tonight? Not that it's not a pleasure to see you, but it's certainly surprising." "I'm here to see Shouta," you said flatly. He gave you an inquisitive look, "oh, is that right?" "Yes, I just need to ask him one question," you replied.

You took this opportunity to tell him about the events of the past several days. He already knew you were having a conversation with Shouta the other night, so you told him about that conversation, and told him everything that happened in between, from your date with Ken to the conversation you had with Naomi earlier. You also told him about the question you were going to ask Shouta when you got to his dorm. Toshinori looked at you thoughtfully, "you've been through a lot, Y/N. But I'm so proud of you, trying to figure out what is best for you." He gently squeezed your hand, to which you lightly blushed and replied, "thank you, Toshinori. Listen, it's starting to get late and I know security is tight around this place. Is there a way you could use your pass, and escort me to Shouta's dorm?" He was happy to oblige.

When you finally arrived at Shouta's door, Toshinori gave you a big hug, despite you being drenched. "I owe you so much, Toshinori. I'm so grateful to have such amazing friends in my life, including you." He smiled brightly, "don't think anything of it Y/N. I wish you the best tonight." You hugged him once more, and he took his leave under his umbrella in the pouring rain. You were at Shouta's door. While your decision to come here was impulsive, you suddenly found yourself to be extremely nervous. What if you don't get the answer you're hoping for when you ask him this one question? You took a deep breath, gathered yourself, and lightly knocked on his door.

It took a few moments, but Shouta opened the door with an annoyed frown on his face. However, that changed instantly when he saw that it was you standing in his doorway. You knew him well enough to know that he thought it was one of his students knocking on his door. "Y/N! I can't believe you're here! You are absolutely soaked; please come in and let me get you a towel…" he trailed off when he saw the determined look on your face. "No thank you, Shouta. I can't stay, I came here to ask you just one question," you said bluntly. "You know you can ask me anything…" he trailed off again. You took a deep breath, and decided to get it out. "Shouta, IF I decided to get back together with you, and that's only an if! I read the news, I know very well that villain attacks are on the rise. So, if I decided to get back together with you, are you going to bail on me again if things get worse out there?"

He looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, and simply said, "no." He continued, "Y/N, I thought leaving you so you would be safe was the best idea at the time. But as it turned out, that was one of the biggest mistakes I've made in my life. I would keep you safe and never leave you again." For the first time that night, you were glad it was raining, because you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. "You gave me your answer, Shouta. I have to go now." You turned around and started to walk away. "Y/N, wait! You came all the way here to ask me that; what does that mean for us?" he asked in a desperate tone of voice. You turned back around to face him and simply replied, "I don't know yet. I have a lot of thinking to do." Once again, you turned around and walked away, leaving a bewildered looking Shouta in your wake.

******

To be continued!

[casspurrjoybell-20]

Blueberry Muffins - Chapter 5b

*Warning Adult Content*

It’s Complicated - Part 3 

They finished their lunch, then decide to sit around and talk a bit, before joining the water sports.

"So you haven't found your mate yet, Mark?" Erin asked the other Alpha, his hand drawing circles into Wren’s stomach as he holds him close.

Mark shakes his head, leaning back on his hands. 

"No, not yet. I'm hoping to find them soon though. I won't feel complete without a mate, not as an Alpha at least."

"I know what you mean. If Wren hadn't come into my life I don't know where I would be right now," Erin hums, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend’s head of silky soft blue/black hair.

Wren smiles shyly, glancing up at him. Somewhere deep down the young man feels somewhat frustrated. Erin could say some of the sweetest things but the next moment he would say something that brought Wren’s whole world crashing down. Wasn't he just saying a few moments ago that their relationship was complicated? Was complicated a good thing to him? It wasn't to Wren. 

"Oh stop being dramatic. I didn't even do anything."

"That's what you think. But you saved me, Wren," he whispered, his face suddenly very serious.

Wren looks at him, seeing how sincere he was being. 

‘Did I save him? Was this why he could say so confidently that he loved me? Because I was his everything? I really did want to do so much for him. I wanted to be his supporter, his lover, his whole world.’ 

Yet again, a voice inside Wren’s head wants to scream in frustration. 

‘This man held too much power over me.’ 

Wren felt like he could get whiplash with how quickly his own emotions changed around him. It was honestly scary sometimes.

"You two are honestly so cute. I feel so jealous sometimes and I have a fated-bond," Aurora piped up, sighing wistfully.

"Hey, I can be cute too," Ryder protested.

She hums, patting his  freckled cheek.

"Sure, sweetie."

"Wait what do you mean by that?" Mark asked curiously.

Joshua’s head whips around, seeming somewhat interested in the conversation, to actually listen in. He has been so distant throughout the picnic lunch, thus far. Wren figured that's just how he usually is. At least, that's what Wren had seen from Joshua, so far. The visiting Beta just didn't seem like much of a talker. Instead of Erin answering Mark’s question, Ryder says...

"Erin's true fated-mate died before they could meet. He and Wren have been dating for a year now because Erin wants to bond with him rather than wait for a possible Second Chance."

When it came to mating, werewolves had a first pairing, the one that was destined for you. Sometimes, a mate-bond was severed for various reasons. Usually, if the wolf was already fully mated to the other wolf and the one left would eventually die from going insane. When a wolf looses it’s mate it was like cutting off a limb. Watching a wolf go mad from separation was the saddest thing they would ever see. It always tore at their hearts but 

In Erin's case, though, he'd never felt the full extent of the bond with his fated-mate. He felt the bond break but he hadn't mated yet, so he didn’t feel the excruciating pain, madness and then death. Hurt of course but he now had three options, he could find another mate and take them outside of a mated bond. He could wait for a second-chance mate or remain mate-less. The mate-less option wouldn't work for Erin, although, as an Alpha, he was expected to produce an heir. The second-chance mate was very rare. Their first pairing was compelled by fate. They were always destined to meet their mate one way or another but a second-chance mate didn't exactly work like that. It was less likely to meet your second-mate. 

Of course, there were exceptions. They had heard of multiple primary mates before. It wasn't common but it happened. And sometimes they didn't get to meet their mate due to forces they couldn't control, like Erin's fated-mate's death. And then there were the times that a wolf purposefully rejected their mate. It was viewed as a disgraceful act. Rejection could easily lead to death just like separation. That wasn't to say that it always meant death. Since the mate-bond was never fully completed, the wolves still had a chance to survive. 

Rejection just hurts a whole lot more than separation. That's what Wren feared he would do to his mate. He didn't want to torture them and not even realize it. Mark's face brightened with some sort of silent revelation. 

"Ah. But what about your mate, Wren?" he asked as he gave Wren a pointed look.

Wren shifted around uncomfortably, trying to figure out how to answer him. How was he supposed to tell some stranger that his senses are broken? That he couldn't sense his mate? It seemed like a stupid excuse or something, like a made-up story. But it wasn't. It was Wren’s painful reality that he was reminded of every day. Thankfully, Erin answered for him.

"Wren can't sense his mate. It's hard to explain and it's not my story to tell but it's true. He barely feels the pack bond."

"You can't... sense your mate? You can't smell them?" Joshua suddenly asked.

Wren shakes his head slowly. 

"No, I can't. My wolf can't smell at all. That’s why bonds aren’t strong for me, unless I fully make them, like if I were to completely bond-mate with someone."

Joshua and Mark went deadly silent. Wren was sure it must be an odd thing to hear. A wolf's ability to smell made up so much of their culture and survival as a species. It was everything. Wren was sure Joshua and Mark pitied him. Not being able to sense one’s own mate wasn't a reality anyone wanted to go through, yet Wren had to face it every day. He was lucky enough to have Erin, though. It was one of the reasons why they are so affectionate. They are both in a situation where their only comfort was each other. They didn't want to see their relationship end because that meant they'd be alone again.

“But it's fine, really," Wren explains, trying to lighten the mood. 

"I have Erin and Erin has me. And I just hope my mate never senses me. I don't want to hurt them."

The entire group had turned silent now. After what seemed like a life time, they slowly began to chat a bit, the sound of Ryder and Aurora’s bickering creating a nice background noise for Wren. As he rested against Erin he felt like he needed to just think. Was he really at the point where he wished his fated-mate never came? He'd always feared he could never sense his mate but it didn't work like that the other way around. They'd be able to smell Wren and then they'd be... heartbroken. That's assuming they never talk to Wren about the bond because they might assume he could smell them too. It was a valid assumption of course, so that meant they'd be even more hurt that ever. Wren didn't want or wish that, not for his fated-mate, not for anyone.

“I know what you're thinking and you should stop. If your fated-mate ever comes, we'll deal with it, Okay?" Erin whispers, pulling his boyfriend in closer.

Wren tilts his head to look at him, giving him a small nod. Erin is so understanding, so caring. Even when Wren is thinking of his fated-mate, even when his boyfriend doubts their relationship, he still tries to help. Wren loves him so much and he wants to stay by Erin’ side forever. But what if his fated-mate did come? And what if they talked to Wren about it? What would happen then? Would Wren have to reject them? Or would he have leave Erin? The tiny omega wasn't sure but he did know one thing. He didn't want to break Erin's heart. Not Ever.

[royalbengalbitch]

I've spent the past 3 days overdoing the sugar but #noragrets

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IV

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1880.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

_________

After you came back to your room, you got a message from Steve about changing the locks on both you door and your locker. You were so taken aback by today's conversation in the student council room that you had completely forgotten about it. Apparently, Steve had already requested the change of locks on your behalf through email, and you were really grateful to him for that: you dreaded coming back to the room that had been forced open. Of course, tonight you would have to move your dresser to the door so that nobody could enter when you'd be sleeping.

Shit. It was absolutely crazy.

"I'm not sure about all this, Steve." You texted him while laying on your bed and staring at your phone in the darkness of the room. "It doesn't seem right."

Naturally, you meant the fake dating thing. It felt horrible thinking of what others would think after seeing you with five different guys. Would they be calling you a whore in the open? Make some nasty jokes behind your back? Report you to the school administration for immoral behavior? Remembering those bigots from the student office, you cringed at the thought.

Besides, it still didn't make sense to you why you had to date all five. Sure, if they were around you at all times like your friends, these unhinged bastards who stole your things wouldn't do anything funny again, but it wasn't like that. What could one guy do against a group of other students?

"Listen, I didn't want to talk about it in class, but I'm worried it won't end with a stolen lingerie."

You didn't like his message.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. They might attempt something much worse than a theft."

Oh no. Was he talking about rape? Seriously? Did he anticipate others were so crazy they would do something like that?

But then again, girls were being raped in colleges even if it weren't the all-boys schools. A shiver ran down your spine.

"But if several people attack me, just one of you won't be enough." You typed with your shaky fingers, trembling beneath your blanket.

"It's not about the pure force. Each of us has a certain reputation, and others wouldn't want to cross us over because of it."

Wait, this was interesting. What on Earth did he mean? What kind of reputation was that to prevent people from messing with them?

"Thor is a good athlete and a great leader, his basketball team is ready to beat people to death for him."

"Loki's father is one of academy’s main sponsors, and he can have this school turned upside down if he wants to."

"Bucky is a threat by himself, but he also have a company of loyal friends."

"I don't think Peter is serious enough to scare anyone, but with his computer skills he could easily blackmail others, I’ve already seen him doing it. Students would be wary to cross him over just like any of us."

Steve was writing you a bunch of messages with a terrifying speed, and you could barely read the first when he was already sending you the second. It felt absolutely insane. Did he choose every guy because the more powerful admirers you have, the less others would intervene? Well, at least in case of Bucky and Thor who could beat people to near death, it was wise. You preferred not to think of Peter - you had no idea someone as sweet and caring as him did something as disgusting as a blackmail.

“But what others will think? 5 boyfriends? Others will think you are dating-” you paused, chewing your lips to bit, “- a whore. Nobody gonna stood up for me.”

"Imagine if each of us tells our friends that other four guys were just asked to watch over you, but you date only one.”

Oh. Yes, this was slightly better. Then you wouldn’t have to do something as bold as kissing every guy in public, instead maintaining the mystery who you were really dating. 

Damn, how Steve even came up with this plan? Why was everything so complicated?

“It’s getting late. Good night.” Your phone vibrated again, and you huffed with irritation. You hoped you could ask him a bit more - about what you were going to do with the thieves Steve found, for example - but he was probably getting tired with all your questions. It was better to ask him tomorrow.

___________________

The next morning you were restless: since you were starting to going out with guys, you felt like you needed to look better than you usually were, so you spent your morning working on your hair and makeup. It was like fake dating, right? You had to pretend you wanted to look pretty for them.

What else did you have to do? Cook something sweet for them? Yeah, probably, but not at the start of your relationship. Going to cafe together? Helping each other study? Loki also mentioned the cinema...

You felt dumb. Of course, you dated guys before, but now you realized you had no idea how to act not to cause any suspicion. Oh boy, it was going to be a tough day.

Thor nocked at you door thirty minutes before your first session, but you woke up so early you were more than ready to go. As you opened the door, first moving the dresser back to its place, the guy looked at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hey, what was that?"

"The dresser. I can't leave the door just like that until the lock is changed."

He blinked at you, watching the door and then probably remembering somebody forced the lock open to steal your underwear.

"These guys are batshit crazy." He mumbled and nodded you to go with him, putting his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, they won't do it again."

You wanted to argue they definitely would, but, seeing his warm smile, you thought Thor simply wanted to cheer you up and smiled at him in return. In the end, he was here only to make you feel safer: you didn't doubt he was very popular with the girls every time he went out to the city.

"You look great today!" He said sheepishly, walking in the dorm's corridor while other students were staring at him silently, obviously surprised to see you two together. "I mean, not that you looked bad yesterday, I just..."

Watching his face suddenly getting crimson red, you couldn't help but giggle at his expression. You could never think Thor was actually bashful around girls. Yeah, at your old place he'd definitely be one of the most popular guys around.

It was lunch time when you two could actually talk, sitting together at the same table and being watched by everyone around. Strangely, with Thor constantly talking and often rubbing your hand with his, it didn't feel suffocating, and you held your head high: regardless whether those pricks were looking at you, you weren't going to run away to your room and cry there like a little girl. Loki was right: you weren't a silly little sheep, scared of your own shadow. You wouldn't let anyone spoil your time in the academy you dreamt studying in.

Funny enough, Thor turned out to be a talkative type when he was speaking about basketball and his team in particular. He loved sports: while you were more into hockey, the way he talked was so enthusiastic it made you listen to him with a genuine interest. Thor's love for basketball was infectious.

He seemed a simple man, this giant bag of muscles who was laughing so loud people around him flinched; Thor wasn't the exact type of a guy you would encounter on your own, but he seemed nice, sincere, and surprisingly softhearted. You felt at ease talking to him, and soon you too acted like you'd known each other for long.

It was a pity you'd only met under this circumstances. It felt like you two could became friends.

But then when Thor absent-mindedly put his arm around your shoulders, you remembered Loki's warning: they would try to gain your favors. Was it the reason Thor was so nice to someone he just met? Wasn't it suspicious of him? You couldn't let your guard down after just one lunch together. In fact, you knew nothing of the man sitting in front of you.

"I knew something like would happen." Some guy to your left sighed loudly, catching your attention. "They were fucking crazy."

"I'm not surprised either. I just wanna know who they got in a fight with to be beaten like that. Have you heard they broke Gray's both legs?"

"Woah, both? That's brutal, man."

You shivered, trying not to listen to them.

"It'd happen sooner or later anyway. They were completely wild."

A word caught your attention right away: that was what Steve called those students who were stealing your things. Could it be a coincidence? Surely, in an all-boys school the students were fighting each other constantly.

But to the point of breaking both legs of someone? Really?

As you sent Thor a nervous look, he gently patted your shoulder, lowering his voice so no one would hear him, "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. These things happen here from time to time because the guys have no idea what to do with all that testosterone."

You hoped he was right.

The rest of the day went as usual aside from Thor walking the corridors with you and chatting about sports: he managed to convince you to come see the game next month when they would be having a tournament. You were grateful to him for helping to ease your mind because the news of guys being sent to the ambulance made you shook. Steve also mentioned something about his and other's friends ready to beat anyone to death, right?

By the middle of your last class you couldn't think of it any longer and quickly typed a message to Loki. Of all people, right now he seemed the most sincere to you.

"Hi. Are the guys who were beaten last night are the ones who stole my things?"

Waiting was a special torture when you held the phone in your arms beneath your desk, hoping to see your screen lighting up with a message. In five minutes you got your reply.

"Yes." The message said simply, but it was enough for you to stare at your phone with horror, wishing you didn't ask Loki anything.

Oh shit. It wasn't a coincidence, right? It's impossible. Somebody did it on purpose. But who of the five?

"Do you know who did it?"

Next time he answered pretty fast, "No."

A part of you felt relieved. Maybe it wasn't related, finally. Maybe they got beaten by somebody who was fed up with their attitude because they were crazy as the guys in the cafeteria said.

But what if it weren't true?

"Who's the most brutal among you five?"

Biting your lips, you started rocking in your chair a little, making the guy on your left to roll his eyes in irritation.

The phone's screen flashed again.

"Barnes."

Part V

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegardener @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic

[taetaespeaches]

“When I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean.”

yoongi x reader (oc)

genre: fluff; smut (just barely at the end)

word count: 2.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! It’s Yoongi day!!!! This is the night Yoongi starts working on People for his mixtape and he and Kid/reader have a long conversation about life, people, and the meaning of everything. Idek if the conversations make full sense but that’s kind of what I like about them, these two are just bullshitting and getting to know each other even more and I think it’s sweet. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, and thanks for reading! :))

And happy birthday to our favorite honey boy 🍯💛

Seated on Yoongi’s studio couch, your eyes scanned over the words of the paperback novel in your hands as the sounds of the beats from the man’s computer started and stopped at random, filling the room with evidence of his genius and artistry. As you turned the page, the man sat back against his chair with a small huff, your gaze lifting from the book to your boyfriend.

You waited a moment, seeing if he was going to initiate conversation or if he was simply taking a quick moment to himself. However, when his head turned to peer behind him, sneaking a glance at you, you couldn’t help the upward curve of your lips.

“Hey,” he chuckled lightly, your smile growing.

“What’s up, Honey Boy?”

He appeared bashful, as if he was embarrassed and almost guilty for interrupting your reading. Lowering the book to the cushion next to you, holding your place with your finger, you cocked your head.

“Would you mind giving this a listen real quick?” He asked shyly, your eyes widening in slight surprise. Yoongi asking for your opinion on his music wasn’t new or even rare, but the tentativeness in his demeanor certainly was. The man could be bashful when sharing his work, but rarely hesitant.

Nodding at him, he sat back up and pressed play on the track. It was different than anything he’d ever shown you before, the slow melodic flow of the song, paired with interesting xylophone-type of sound, immediately capturing you. Your eyebrows pulling together as you listened, a focus overtaking you.

It was just the instrumental, but it felt comforting; calming.

“This is from,” he thought out loud, “2016 probably.”

“It’s amazing, Yoon,” you complimented sincerely. “I’m actually kind of offended you’ve had this all this time just hiding in your hard drive,” you teased with a smile, Yoongi chuckling as he spun his chair around to face you.

“You think I should use it for the mixtape?” He asked, already knowing he should, but seeking your opinion anyway.

“Definitely,” you told him as you lifted the book, only to fold the corner of the page down. Dropping the novel onto the couch, you stood and easily approached the man, his gaze following you intently as you neared him. Leaning against his desk, Yoongi spun in his chair so he continued to face you. “It’s really good.”

Giving you a single appreciative nod, he held back a grin. “Thank you,” he whispered, the shyness in his gratitude adorable, making you smile. “I love your smile,” he told you suddenly, a small breathy chuckle escaping your lips.

“Thanks,” you told him quickly, trying to brush over the compliment, feeling bashful under his gaze. You both simply stared at one another, both of your minds trying to decipher each other’s expressions.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked you, clueless as to what was going on in your mind, but knowing there was something weighing on it.

With a small sigh, you flashed him a small smile. “Do you think I’m a good person?” You asked him, the man’s eyebrows pulling together.

“I do,” he replied simply, though his expression remained the same. “Why?”

“I saw an old friend today,” you told him as you lifted yourself onto the desk so you were seated atop it, your feet dangling above the floor.

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in curiosity, his hands coming to rest on your knees.  

“She’s changed so much, I barely recognized her,” you continued. “We used to be so close in school and now, it’s like I hardly know her,” you told him, the fragility of your voice apparent to your own ears, so you knew Yoongi heard it too. “She has a baby I had no idea about.”

Yoongi stared at you thoughtfully, locking his eyes with yours, a rare occurrence for him. “Why is that making you concerned about your goodness as a person?”

“I just-” you paused thoughtfully. “I let that relationship fade away. You know, I was the one who stopped communicating, I was the one who cancelled plans, I just pulled away and withdrew.”

“That doesn’t make you bad, that makes you human,” he informed you, his thumbs soothing along the insides of your thighs, just above your knee caps. “People change.”

Nodding in understanding, you directed a small tight smile at him. “You know, as happy as I am with my life and the people in it,” you scrunched your nose, poking his hand with your finger to emphasize his important role among those people, Yoongi letting a small smile grace his features, “I feel nostalgic for something,” you finished. Lifting his hand from your leg, he wrapped it around your own hand, holding it comfortingly in his grasp. His palm was as warm as his considerate gaze, and you realized for the hundredth time that Yoongi was warmth embodied. “Does everyone feel like this or is there something wrong with me?” You scoffed lightly at yourself.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He teased, making a small giggle leave your lips as you softly jerked your knee up to bump his arm in light-hearted complaint. “I can’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I think I miss the person I was before,” he looked around the studio, “you know, all this,” he admitted, referring to his career.

Leaning toward him, you listened intently, your orbs scanning his features as he pondered over the thoughts within his mind.

“Maybe not even the person, but the life,” he elaborated, you humming in understanding.

“Do you find that it was a simpler time?” You asked, intrigued by his words.

“Not so much simpler but just different, I guess,” he thought out loud. “It feels like I sacrificed the ordinary for the extraordinary,” he added, latching his gaze onto your legs as you stared down at him. “And now the ordinary becomes extraordinary,” he said, lowering his chin to your knees as his fingers picked at the fraying around the hole in your jeans.

Your free hand that wasn’t being held by his found its way to his hair, your fingers digging into his soft strands.

“I sound ungrateful,” he chuckled dryly against your legs, you shaking your head despite him not seeing it, his eyes still glued to the hole in your clothing.

“No, just human,” you spoke up. “It’s natural to long for those realities that belong to some but not to us,” you assured him, the man rotating his face so his cheek rested against your leg, his orbs gazing up at you.

“People dream of having my life though,” he mumbled, his lips slightly pouted making him look precious despite the negative thoughts swirling around his head and leaving that adorable pout. “And here I am just wishing I could walk down the street without a care in the world,” he smiled a bit. “Am I even a good person? I feel greedy.”

Brushing your fingers through his hair, you pouted, watching him for a moment before responding. “I’m biased, but I think you are.”

“You sure?” He quipped, a teasing glint in his eyes that made you smile as a breathy chuckle left your lips.  

“You’re a good person, Yoongi, I won’t have you thinking otherwise,” you insisted with a glare, Yoongi’s lips curving into a grin in response.

“My life isn’t any more special than anyone else’s,” he suddenly decided. “Just different.”

Nodding at him, you agreed. “You’re just a person.” Yoongi’s eyebrows raised, preparing to tease you for the lackluster conclusion, your mouth already shaping into a knowing smile. “But my favorite person,” you added. “So that’s something.”

Placing a kiss to your jean adorned knee, he grinned. “It’s everything.”

“I think it has meaning,” you noted, your and Yoongi’s conversation taking several different paths throughout the past forty-five minutes or so. You were now talking about the meaning of life, and whether there was a meaning at all. “I just don’t know what,” you added with a shy smile.

Yoongi’s gummy grin beamed up at you as he squeezed your thigh playfully. “I go back and forth. Like, we’re here by chance, right? Maybe life is no deeper than that,” he explained, you nodding in understanding. “But also, I found music and BTS, and here I am with you, and all of that feels meaningful,” he added thoughtfully.

“Do you believe in fate?” You questioned curiously.

“Maybe,” he responded, his voice sliding up slightly in pitch.

“I find myself thinking that same thing. Like maybe we don’t have a purpose as living beings except to just, be here, and live. And maybe it’s the people we know and the experiences we have that give it all meaning,” you thought aloud, Yoongi humming as he peered up at you.

“Yeah, I like that,” he settled with a small close-mouthed smile that pushed his fluffy cheeks up adorably. Moving your hand from his hair, you poked his cheek, Yoongi giving you a feigned grimace in reply.

“Ok, so question for you,” you started, Yoongi’s eyes widening in anticipation. “If your life wasn’t so extraordinary, what would you do?”

“Like, without the fame?” He asked.

“Yeah, let’s say for a day, no one knew who Min Yoongi, Suga, Agust D was, what would you do?” You asked with a small smile, feeling giddy to hear his answer.  

“I would take you out on the most normal run of the mill date,” he answered easily.

“That’s what you’d do?!” You asked in disbelief, Yoongi smiling cutely. “What like to the movies?”

“To the movies and to dinner and to get ice cream and we’d walk around Seoul without a care in the world about who could see us,” he grinned.

“We’ve done all those things though,” you pointed out.

“I mean, yeah, we have our spots that feel safe, and we venture out on occasion, but we could go anywhere without the stress of being seen,” he explained. “No worries, just us.”

Flashing him a fond smile, you pushed his hair off his forehead gently. “I didn’t realize you had so much stress when we go out,” you noted, a softness evident in your tone.

“I’m just- hyperaware,” he clarified.

“Would you hold my hand in the street, Honey Boy?” You asked with a wide grin, Yoongi chuckling at you.

“I wouldn’t let go of your hand,” he told you, his thumb running along the side of your hand as he spoke the words. “You know what else I would do?” He asked happily.

“What?” You whispered through your beaming grin.

“I’d kiss you in front of everyone,” he returned your smile. “And I’d post a cheesy photo of us on my pubic instagram to brag about how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed, Yoongi giggling as his chin rested on top of your knee.

“It would be nice,” he hummed thoughtfully, as if he was losing himself in a day dream where he could live so carelessly.

Moving your hand to the side of his face, you pulled his attention back to you as you cocked your head at him and smiled at him. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn’t have to wait so long,” you stared to sing playfully, Yoongi dropping his forehead to your knee as he laughed at you.

Sitting back in his chair, he looked back up to you with his gummy grin, his eyes bright and full of adoration. “I love that song,” he noted, you giggling.

“Me too,” you replied in a whisper.

A pause in the conversation took place as Yoongi’s eyes scanned over your features, yours following the movement of his gaze. When his eyes met yours, he slowly pushed his chair away from the desk and stood in front of you, his hands finding your waist as his face hovered close to yours.

Placing a kiss to the side of your mouth, you breathed out slowly, the intimacy between you both blossoming more stunningly than it ever had before.

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing over yours as your hands found his neck, your fingers greedily but gently exploring the soft skin of his neck and jaw, grazing over his throat.

“I love you too,” you told him. “Forever.”

Pressing your lips to his, he brought his body as close to yours as he could, wanting you as close as possible. As he deepened the kiss, your mouth moving in synchronization with his own, his hands found the bottom of your shirt.

Tugging up, you removed your hands from him to allow him to pull the clothing from your frame. Dropping the shirt onto the desk next to your bodies, his eyes glanced down at your chest to see the flimsy lace bra. As one of his hands moved behind you to feel your back, sliding down to grasp the top of your ass, he dragged the finger of his opposite hand along the edge of your bra cup.

“What does forever mean?” He suddenly asked in a low timbre, just before pressing a lingering peck to your mouth. “You never know what the future holds,” he said realistically, though his tone was still seductive and light.

“I think the intent behind the word is what matters,” you told him, trailing kisses along his neck, Yoongi tilting his head to the side to allow you more access. “What a person feels when they speak the word.”

“So what do you feel? What do you mean when you say forever?” He questioned, your head raising to look him in the eyes.

Scooting off the desk, you stood in front of Yoongi, your gaze locked on his. “When I say forever,” you started, your hands finding the sides of his face as his held your waist. “I mean it literally. For always, evermore, in this lifetime and the next. Maybe even past lifetimes. The future is unpredictable, but when I say I love you forever, that’s what I mean,” you assured him as the man stared at you with a surety you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before.

Leaning in to kiss him again, you began pushing him backward, you both stumbling as he bumped into the chair. Your lips curved upward into the kiss, you both chuckling as you continued your clumsy ministrations.

Finding your way to the couch, you dropped onto it, sliding across it so you could recline, Yoongi standing above you watching you intently. As you stared up at him with a smirk, he shed himself of his shirt. Crawling atop you, your hands grabbed onto his hips, your fingers digging underneath the waistband.

He kissed you passionately, pouring his feelings and emotions into the action, causing you to moan, the sound melting against the man’s mouth, making him smirk. Sitting up on his knees, he undid the zipper on his own jeans before reaching for your own. His eyes left your legs for just a moment as he reached for the book shoved against the back of the sofa.

“This any good?” He asked, you quirking your eyebrow.

“It is, want me to read it to you?” You asked, Yoongi scoffing as he tossed it onto the table, you giggled as he went back to pulling your clothes from your body.

As he removed his clothing, you reached for your bag on the floor next to you, pulling a condom out, Yoongi smirking at you.

Once your clothing was removed, giggles flooding the room as you both struggled to wiggle out of your jeans and your bra flung somewhere across the studio, it was a matter of seconds until his skin was against yours, your body caged by his arms. 

He kissed you passionately, a hand on your waist as his other arm supported his weight over you. Slipping inside you, you groaned out at the sensation, Yoongi breathing lowly at the feeling of you. 

As you clasped a leg around his, your hand grasping at his ass, he placed delicate kisses across you face, giving special attention to your cheeks as he began dragging his hips. 

“I love you,” he whispered before pushing his mouth to yours, swallowing your breaths and whimpers. He moved slowly, savoring every moment of being together, wanting this night to last, forever. 

Your hands clutched his back, clinging to him as he moved in and out of you with a passionate force that had you moaning out near his ear. And he reveled in your sounds, knowing he was the cause, knowing you were his. Forever.

Leaving a kiss to his earlobe, you confessed your love for him once more. And then again. And again.

“Forever,” you repeated, the word coated in intention and meaning. You’d be loving him forever.  

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 22 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke in a bed, which was not a surprise. His favorite blanket – the one Wen Ruohan had bought for him – was tucked in around him, and this was also not a surprise.

He was in the Nightless City, which was.

“How…?”

“Your brother gave permission,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lan Qiren twisted his head in surprise, not having seen him sitting there at the desk beside the bed. Wen Ruohan was writing something, his brush movement steady and unhurried; it was a distinct contrast to the seething rage lingering in his voice. “Since I know you care about that.”

“Of course I care,” Lan Qiren said blankly. “He really gave permission?”

Wen Ruohan’s brush paused. “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”

Lan Qiren considered it for a moment, then said, a little helplessly, “It seems more likely than him agreeing to cut my punishment short.”

Wen Ruohan snorted, and put his brush down. “I insisted,” he said, and the smug curl of his smile suggested it had been more than a casual conversation. “Anyway, he didn’t want a fuss.”

Naturally not, as He Kexin might object, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and shook his head at his own bitterness. He realized a moment later that it didn’t hurt to do that.

“How long did I sleep?” he asked, alarmed. The transit to the Nightless City was long, unless someone decided to waste vast amounts of qi flying by sword – which he could see Wen Ruohan doing – but the staves used for the Lan sect’s more severe discipline were not like those used for more mundane offenses. While they weren’t on par with a discipline whip, they were still made of spiritual wood, infused with qi; the injuries they left would not heal so quickly.

“I applied medicine,” Wen Ruohan said, rising to his feet and coming over to sit by Lan Qiren’s side on the bed, helping him sit up. “You’re not healed, only numb…I understand you’ve been having difficulties in your sect for some time, and that was even before the lady attacked you in an effort to frame you for her own rape.”

“I’m fairly sure she just wanted to show my brother that she wasn’t interested in him,” Lan Qiren said, wincing. He would not have phrased it quite like that, although thinking it over, it did seem to be a fair way to describe it, if an uncomplimentary one. “It’s not a stretch to think that picking his less impressive brother over him would do it.”   

Wen Ruohan’s lips curled into a sneer. “Truly, an ingenious mind. Did she think herself so attractive that no man would ever deny her?”

That, or else she’d been truly desperate. Lan Qiren could sympathize with her to that extent. After all, do not take advantage of your position to oppress others was a rule for a reason, and the power and influence a Great Sect could bring to bear against a rogue cultivator was not nothing. But his sympathy ended at the point where she’d decided it was acceptable to harm him in order to achieve her goal – even looking at her actions in the best possible light and assuming that she sincerely thought he would participate willingly in her plan, she’d made all sorts of assumptions and hadn’t bothered to verify anything before acting on them. 

He Kexin might be free and unrestrained, as his brother had described her, but she was also perilously reckless, and selfish, too.

Still, at the same time Lan Qiren thought about Wen Ruohan’s smirk when he mentioned his ‘insistence’ with his brother – he wasn’t sure if it involved physical violence or not, although the mental image of such a confrontation was oddly satisfying – and grimaced at the thought of the same sort of pressure being brought to bear on someone without a Great Sect’s protection. “About - He Kexin…”

“You needn’t concern yourself for the lady’s sake,” Wen Ruohan said, and his tone was a little unpleasant. “Even after all that, she permitted herself to be convinced by one of her friends that the advantages of receiving Qingheng-jun’s affections outweighed the disadvantages, despite her own better instincts; that seems punishment enough for the moment. Someone who does not hesitate to blind themselves at the say-so of another will reap the reward they deserve in the end…”

He shook his head, and smiled once more, displaying a glint of teeth. 

“You may take comfort that I took no action against her. However, I did suggest that the lady in question consider avoiding Qishan on her future travels.”

Lan Qiren felt something warm pricking his heart. “The thought is appreciated, although unnecessary. The one whose conduct is in the wrong is my brother.”

He’d appreciate an apology from He Kexin, whether for misjudging him or ignoring his refusals, but he wouldn’t hold out hope for it.

“I can be angry at more than one person at once,” Wen Ruohan said. A strange expression flitted over his features. “I admit, I would have thought Lao Nie would have done something about the entire situation sooner. Even if you weren’t writing to me, why didn’t you write to him?”

“I did,” Lan Qiren said. “His initial reply was – unsatisfactory.”

Lao Nie had responded rather casually to Lan Qiren’s message laying out the situation with his brother and He Kexin, speaking light-heartedly of the burning ardor of first love; he had assured Lan Qiren that it was normal to feel troubled by the thought of being left behind, even when the relationship was not good, and that his brother would probably resurface from his infatuation a happier person in the end. It was fairly evident that he hadn’t read all of Lan Qiren’s carefully composed letter.

“I asked him to come by the Lan sect,” he added. “But he was otherwise occupied.”

Wen Ruohan pressed his lips together in irritation. “He’s been otherwise occupied for some time now. You’re not the only one whose letters he’s disregarded.”

“Even you?” Lan Qiren said wonderingly. “But he likes you so much.”

The tightness in Wen Ruohan’s face eased a little. “I’ve asked him to visit here on account of your health,” he said. “I expect to see him arrive in his usual ridiculous flurry of temper and hen-like concern soon enough – once he reads the letter, anyway.”

Lan Qiren nodded, then hesitated. “The last time I was here…”

Wen Ruohan gazed at him sidelong.

Lan Qiren bit his lip. “I understand that I overstepped –”

“Don’t apologize.”

Lan Qiren stopped.

Wen Ruohan looked irritated again. “Don’t apologize,” he said again. “Are you not my little brother? If you cannot scold me, who is there that lives who can? I am not Qingheng-jun.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t entirely sure how the two were connected.

“If you want to make it up to me, go back to the way you addressed me before,” Wen Ruohan added.

Lan Qiren frowned, confused. “How do you mean?”

“Call me da-ge. Not xiongzhang.”

“…the latter is more polite.”

“So is listening to your elders,” Wen Ruohan said haughtily. “As you’re so fond of saying, it’s what I asked.”

“All right, da-ge,” Lan Qiren said obediently, and Wen Ruohan looked pleased.

“Rest,” he ordered, rising to his feet. “There will be dinner soon, and perhaps we can play weiqi once again…is there anything else you need for your room?”

Lan Qiren’s room in the Nightless City was very similar to the room Wen Ruohan had prepared for him in the Cloud Recesses; he couldn’t think of anything else he might need. Except only…

“I don’t suppose you could ask your spies to check in on my rooms back home,” Lan Qiren said, even as he settled back down to rest as instructed. “There was a painting there that you gifted to me that I liked a lot. It fell during the fight, and I haven’t been back since. I don’t want it thrown away.”

“Which one? I got you several…the mountain pass? The flowering tree?”

“No, the landscape with the rolling hills,” Lan Qiren said, and Wen Ruohan, who had been about to leave, stopped abruptly by the door. “It’s a little burned at the edges; you can’t really mistake it for anything else.”

“You liked that one?” Wen Ruohan’s voice was strange, full of some emotion that Lan Qiren was too tired to even try to decipher. “Above the others? The quality is much less, and the skill with the brush inferior.”

“The person who painted it was happy,” Lan Qiren explained. “There’s an echo of the painter’s residual qi trapped in the ink, you can tell a little bit about who they were from that. Whoever it was, they were brash and bold, arrogant and carefree – full of potential, like a phoenix about to alight to a higher branch. Their soul was like a falcon’s, tied down by nothing. Looking at it is an inspiration, and a comfort. I use it sometimes as a focus for meditation.”

“…I’ll have my spies check,” Wen Ruohan said, and he must be truly perturbed by Lan Qiren’s punishment-induced injuries if he had actually just admitted to having spies in the Cloud Recesses. “In the meantime, I have several other works by the same…artist. If you’d like.”

“Oh, very much!” Lan Qiren said enthusiastically; he tried to struggle up to sit again, but he started to feel pain even through the numbness of the anesthetic he’d been dosed with. Wen Ruohan glared him back down, and he yielded meekly, knowing that he was in no state to be really protesting. “Thank you, da-ge. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Wen Ruohan huffed and put a hand behind his back, sweeping out the door like a gust of wind.

Lan Qiren lay back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Are you really going to do this? he wondered. Will you really forgive him for what he has done, for what he is, just because you desperately need support? What happened to your principles? Your rules?

He exhaled hard, almost a sigh. He still wasn’t all right with the torture, still thought it was wrong for a man to exult in the pain of others in such a grotesque fashion, but he’d gone back to his standby, the rules, and he was reminded brutally that they were designed to function as guides for the self, not for the world. You were supposed to embrace the entirety of the world, to shoulder the burden of morality, to refuse to tolerate evil – and yet the rules of hospitality, of host and guest, of neighbors, were ranked just as high.

He could choose to continue to hold back, to express his disdain of Wen Ruohan’s ways with distance and reserve, but it wouldn’t stop Wen Ruohan from doing what he wanted anyway, and it would leave Lan Qiren even more isolated and friendless than he was already.

It would be better to compromise.

And yet – it was hard, perilously hard, to force himself to do so. It was one of his flaws, he knew: how uncompromising he was, how unyielding, how bitterly he held onto his opinions, refusing to change, especially when he thought he was right.

For his own sake, he needed to try to do so. But he also needed to at least try to salvage his conscience, too.

He’d have to find a way to do both.

So decided, Lan Qiren reserved the issue of how he would do that in the back of his mind, returning to sleep. It would be easier, he thought, to resolve the issue in the morning, once he’d healed up a little more.

It wasn’t, but that was mostly because he was horrified to discover that he had no proper clothing.

“You have clothing that fits,” Wen Ruohan replied, the mildness of his voice failing to conceal the glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s even in your clan’s colors. What’s the problem?”

“It’s too much,” Lan Qiren insisted, shaking the clothing at him. He had at least been left his inner robes, though he felt naked without the extra layer. “My formal clothing is less excessive than this!”

“That is surely a matter for your sect, isn’t it? I don’t think it’s excessive.”

“You have no sense of proportion!”

Wen Ruohan shrugged. “I can send for something else,” he said. “Even from your home, if you like. By regular post, it should only take a week or so to arrive.”

Lan Qiren scowled.

“If you really prefer, you’re welcome to walk around naked until then –”

Lan Qiren was so aggravated that he actually hissed at him, surprising Wen Ruohan into a laugh that interrupted his words, and returned to his room to begrudgingly put on the robes. They were white and silver, his usual preference – not interwoven with blue, but that wasn’t a surprise, given that white was a secondary color for the Wen sect as well as the Lan – but they were also ridiculously overwrought: embroidered brocade, silks so fine that they had to be layered in order to not be translucent, studded with shining pearls and what might be actual silver…

“Absurd,” he grumbled, but put on the clothing and came back out. “Do you enjoy tormenting me? Is that it?”

“At times,” Wen Ruohan said, his eyes curved and merry. “Come, sit. It’s your move.”

Lan Qiren permitted himself to succumb to his sworn brother’s atrocious taste for the evening, then stole away to the laundry room the first chance he could, determined to beg for a set of clothing that was somewhat more normal – even mourning clothing would be acceptable, as long as it was neither Wen sect nor horribly garish.

Wen Ruohan found him there, arguing spiritedly with the tailor, and whisked him back to his rooms on account of Lan Qiren’s injuries, arguing, correctly, that Lan Qiren was on the verge of collapsing and coughing up blood from having been a bit too enthusiastic.

Eventually, after some of what Lan Qiren called reasoned debate and what Wen Ruohan called flagrant sulking, Wen Ruohan agreed to get him something a little more normal to wear on the condition that he wear at least one adornment of Wen Ruohan’s choosing along with it.

“You secretly wanted to play with dolls as a child,” Lan Qiren said accusingly, even though the initial adornment – a belt loop made from moonstone and jade – was entirely appropriate, even by Lan sect standards. “You were denied the chance then, and now you make it everyone else’s problem. Is that it?”

“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan said. “It’s been so long, how would I remember?”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and gamely lost to him at weiqi a few more times.

It was perilously easy to slip back into the comfortable camaraderie that they’d developed on his last visit, he reflected as he prepared for bed that evening. It was something he enjoyed - something they both enjoyed - and if Lan Qiren only kept his opinions to himself, convinced himself to actually bend for once, he might be able to actually keep it, this time. 

The next morning, he went to the extensive library kept by the Wen sect and took down several books on anatomy, carefully copying out the goriest parts of it in his best calligraphy; he wasn’t an inspired painter like the nameless ancient that had done the pictures that now hung in his room here, but he excelled at dry and lifeless copies, which was about what you wanted from an anatomy text.

He finished the small booklet within a few days, and gave it to Wen Ruohan one evening before dinner.

“What’s this?” Wen Ruohan asked, flipping through it with a slightly bemused expression. “Medicine?”

“Anatomy,” Lan Qiren corrected. “Since you – like that sort of thing. It’s a gift.”

Wen Ruohan blinked very deliberately. “Little Lan,” he said, staring down at one of the more explicit illustrations. “Did you get me a gift to help me torture people better?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re taking care of me,” Lan Qiren said with as much dignity as he could muster in light of the patheticness of his abject surrender. “I got you this gift because it seemed relevant to your interests. Anyway, it’s not something I can share, or even really countenance – and in all honesty I would prefer that you not do it while I’m around, or at minimum try not to mention it to me, to make it easier to look the other way – I mean, it’s not going to be easy, but easier – well, my scruples aren’t important. It’s something that matters to you, so I’ll just –”

Wen Ruohan cleared his throat, interrupting him. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, looking at the space above Lan Qiren’s head for some reason. “The Fire Palace has had trouble keeping my interest recently; the entertainment has gone stale. I have moved on.”

Lan Qiren had not expected that, and he smiled happily, his pricked conscience unexpectedly granted a reprieve. For some reason, it made Wen Ruohan stare at him.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that you’re not torturing people for sport any longer,” Lan Qiren told him, in case it wasn’t clear. “As for the booklet, even if it’s not quite right for your interests right now, I still hope you enjoy the work...I’ll get you a better gift next time.”

“No need to strain yourself,” Wen Ruohan said. “I will be pleased no matter what it is, I’m sure.”

He gestured for Lan Qiren to enter the dining room first, which Lan Qiren did. Oddly enough, despite his cliché and rather condescending reassurances, Wen Ruohan looked especially pleased throughout dinner, almost as if he really meant what he’d said.

It was nice, Lan Qiren thought, to be liked. One could get used to it.

His injuries were healing very well, between the medicines Wen Ruohan’s doctors plied him with – Lan Qiren attempted not to calculate the value of them, certain that they were probably worth more than a small sect’s heirloom treasure – and the rich spiritual energy Wen Ruohan insisted on infusing him with, morning and night. Lan Qiren tried to protest that the latter was unnecessary, but Wen Ruohan had stood on his rights as the host, and at any rate he simply had so much qi that the effort seemed not to wear on him at all. So Lan Qiren let him keep doing it, Wen Ruohan’s warm hands conveying warm qi as he spoke to him of various matters, important and trifling, and Lan Qiren – liked it.

“In the Nightless City, we release lanterns several times a year, not just on the Lantern Festival,” Wen Ruohan murmured into Lan Qiren’s ear as he sat there, eyes growing heavy as his rules-mandated bedtime approached. “It’s a celebration of the sun as our sect’s sigil. The lanterns come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and we light the flames with spiritual energy. There’s a day not far from now where we will do it; people are making preparations already. Your body is still stiff and unbending, your wounds still healing – you’ll be here to see it.”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“Good,” Wen Ruohan said. “Very good…ah, little Lan, what a strange thing you are. When you were gone, I thought of you often no matter what I wished. I thought that I could cure it by having you here, but now you are here before me, every day, and yet I think of you no less. It seems that seeing you every day does not cause me to tire of you.”

“Yes, you’re very easily amused,” Lan Qiren said, his eyes sliding shut as the warm qi circulated through his body. “I think we long ago established that.”

“Is there any feature of yours that you actually like, little Lan? Or is it all self-depreciation?”

“I have a good brain,” Lan Qiren said. “I’m creative and analytical, and I explain things well; I make for a decent or even accomplished teacher. My musical ability is good, both in terms of playing and composition. Also, I’m informed that my face is first rate.”

Wen Ruohan laughed behind his shoulder. “I stand corrected.”

When they parted that night, all was well.

The peace did not last until morning.

[nakunakunomi]

Hello hazel-hun! I would like to request from mha: bakugo, tamaki, and hawks with female crush. How do you headcannon them admitting they have feelings and actually asking their crush on a first date? So happy i found your blog hun! 💖💖💖

Hi Lizzy!! This request was loads of fun to write, I hope you enjoy!! Have a great day! 

Crushing + Asking their crush out HC | Hawks, Tamaki & Bakugo

2nd person. Fem reader. no warnings, just fluff!

Hawks 

Hawks is pretty suave. He can get a little flirty, and doesn’t have a hard time complimenting you and winking at you and such. But usually, his advances don’t go any farther than that. Flirting.

The first step to actually getting out and admitting feelings is probably him giving you his number. He is pretty set on his privacy, for his safety and yours. 

It starts out casually texting, then it turns into frequent good morning and goodnight texts (although because of his work, your mornings and nights may not line up entirely as they should). 

He eventually brings his flirty attitude into these texts as well, adding winking and smirking smileys doing his best to make you feel flustered from simply reading a text. 

It becomes so frequent that you actually start missing his texts when you don’t get any. Even if he’s just working, you realize that you may have a little crush on him.

And it’s once he realizes that the feelings may be mutual, he takes the step to take it a little further. Showing up at your work for a casual lunch, being in the same coffee shop as you in the morning… 

You both know these encounters aren’t coincidences, especially if you’re texting him where you’re at every now and then, but you still are surprised every time he shows up and joins you for however long his schedule will allow.  

When he finally has decided it’s been enough dancing around each other, he will take you aside and ask you out properly. He will not actually confess his feelings straight away, because saying things such as I love you is a big step for him and will take him a couple dates, but the feelings are clear and apparent. 

The date he proposes is super casual too: movies and take-out at his place. Being able to go over to his place is a big thing though and you know it. And a date that is just the two of you, away from all the hero fans and press and such? Perfect. 

There will definitely be cuddles, and a kiss at the very end, as he drops you off at home. He will definitely tease you and flirt endlessly the entirety of the date, but in the end, he’s actually quite the gentleman.

Bakugo 

Bakugo’s love language is acts of service. It’s him ‘tolerating you’ and helping you out, while others would normally have to beg him to help out. 

It’s just this energy you have that makes him drawn to you, and at first, he’s kind of pissy about it. He doesn’t like too much distraction when it comes to him reaching his goal of becoming the top hero.

But then it turns out you’re not as much of a distraction as you are extra encouragement, as you are nothing but supportive, are mindful of his study- and sleeping schedule and actually do your best to make sure he can work towards his goal. 

He is head over heels, and the whole bakusquad knows it, and relentlessly teases him for it. He just gets angry about it.

His flirting includes him calling you ‘dumbass’ and ‘idiot’ but still helping you out with whatever you need. 

If he notices you’re having an off day, he will bluntly inquire what is wrong, but actually offer a listening ear and helpful tips. Whatever it is, he will actually help you. If you need extra training, he will schedule in extra practise. You don’t get a subject? Join him for some studying and he will explain it. Some comfort? A knock at your dorm door and he’s standing there with a handmade meal and a grumpy face reminding you to take care of yourself. 

The squad invites you into their group chat just so you can get to know them all a little better, and it also nudges you a little closer to Bakugo even if that wasn’t a primary goal.

Eventually he does ask you out. He will never admit that it was the squad (and mainly Kirishima) convincing him that you were in fact interested in him as well, which was the final push he needed to ask you out while you were studying together. 

The question seemingly comes out of nowhere. It’s short, but sincere, and you can see his cheeks turning pink a little. Of course you accept, and he continues the study session as if nothing happened, but that weekend, you go out on a date. 

It’s something slightly active but still relaxing, such as the arcade, and walking around getting streetfood after. He lets you hold his hand and you leave with a kiss on his cheek. He stands in shock for a whole minute before entering his dorm. 

Tamaki 

Out of these three men, Tamaki is the one that takes the longest to admit to his feelings. He also takes the longest to even come close. He’s the kind of person you will talk to, and after several encounters he’ll develop a crush, but he will time and again convince himself that you are way out of his league.

If you hang out with the trio, and talk with them all equally, he will still focus on the times you were actually talking to Nejire or Mirio, just so he can convince his head that you don’t really care that much about him. And why would you with those other two present?

Luckily those two are your two biggest fans and shippers and they noticed his little crush right away when you had touched Tamaki’s cheek for some reason and he had become redder than a tomato. 

Knowing better than to tease him, they instead try to hype him up to you, and while you don’t need any convincing at all (you have long noticed that Tamaki is absolutely adorable), you play along with them. 

The game plan is simple: give Tamaki subtle pushes towards you, but most importantly: make sure he relaxes around you. You crush on him too, and you want nothing more than for him to be comfortable around you.

It takes a while, but eventually he manages to relax. You try and get him alone every once in a while, and more and more often you keep the conversation going for a longer time before the stress and anxiety gets the better of him and he has to excuse himself. 

Eventually, he gathers the courage to ask you out. He tells Nejire and Mirio beforehand so they leave the two of you alone, making sure no one can interrupt the moment. 

There’s a lot of stuttering and he asks it so quietly that you have to lean in close to understand, making him even more flustered. 

Once you say yes though, you can see visible relief on his face, and he gains a bit of the confidence and established comfortableness again. 

The date is dinner and a movie, it allows him to have a moment in private with you where awkward moments can be easily concealed by eating or focusing on the movie. 

Halfway through the movie he very carefully grabs your hand and doesn’t let go. You take it slow, but you’ll get there.

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 14)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous SFW Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Previous Chapter NSFW!: The More You Know

Next Chapter: Shadows Fall

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: This is my favorite chapter by far in this book, I've been wanting to drop this for weeks! I hope you enjoy reading. Part 2 of the story starts from here on until the end. Feel free to scream in the comments as usual XD

Chapter 14: Big White Lies

As the days passed by, the seasons changed. You started class in Spring. Summer has long passed and it is now the beginning of Winter. Noritoshi, as usual, was really busy so you didn’t see him as often. But you let it go.

You wanted to do something nice for him, so you had the idea to surprise Noritoshi. Having some cupcakes in a small bag and a fresh cup of coffee in your other hand, you were outside his door, hiding your presence and cursed energy to mask your identity.

As you raised your hand to knock on his door, you heard a second male voice.

"I'm glad to hear that you've been getting along with your soulmate son." His father's voice was heard over a speaker. Oh he was on call with his dad!

Yikes, not the best time to interrupt. It is impolite to listen into the conversation, but you were too excited to surprise him that you decided to wait for the call to end.

"Is Y/N really deeply in love with you? Make sure to not let her go. That will surely help our clan's reputation rise above with her skills being integrated into ours. She can definitely bear strong heirs for our clan. For centuries it was the Zenins that harnessed various types of jujutsu shi with strong techniques. It's time we continuously expanded ours as well. Starting with her." The Kamo clan head sternly ordered his son.

'Huh?'

"Yes of course father. Don't worry. She has already confessed her love to me so there's nothing to worry about. I'll do my best to make this clan proud and powerful. I definitely won’t let you down." Noritoshi replied.

The smile on your face slowly faded as your face turned to stone. Ah. Was that it?

Is that what you amounted to only? A tool for their use. A stepping stone for the Kamo clan to get stronger. You started to feel nauseous. Is this the so-called secret he didn’t want to tell you about…

You stood quietly as you continued eavesdropping.

"Excellent. Heh, looks like you can actually be a womaniser if you wanted to. Women are way too easy. As I told you before, give her sweet touches, use pet names, give her lots of encouragement and make promises here and there and they'll be by your side before you know it." His father snorted.

"Yes, I've taken your advice into consideration and did as you said." Noritoshi spoke firmly. Your heart was breaking with every word spoken.

"If you don't like her or how she looks, you can have several concubines and wives anyways. Have your pick. Remember Homura chan? Now she's a stunner. Didn’t you also say you found her cute?"

‘What on earth is this? Who is Homura? Why?’ Your hands start shaking badly, pulse thundering in your ears.

You felt light headed from the brutish words the Kamo clan head was saying, and silently retreated, not wanting to hear Noritoshi's response to his father. Keeping your presence and cursed energy hidden and as minuscule as possible while you walked back to your dorm room.

Because you had left you didn't hear the remainder of the conversation.

"Father, I respect that the older clan heads had several wives and concubines. And I’ve told you time and time again that I’m not interested in Homura san. But I've decided to be loyal to my one true soulmate. I think I am falling in love with her as well, and can't bear to see her hurt. I won't be taking in any concubines." Noritoshi politely replied.

It was the first time he had spoken about his true feelings out loud and he felt vulnerable. He braced himself for any harsh words from his father but none came.

His father only raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. The fact is, even if she doesn't give birth to an heir with the inherited Blood Manipulation, she is more than enough of an additional asset to our clan. And it ties us together with the Abe/Tsuchimikado clan as you know."

Clan politics. Noritoshi is getting more and more sick of it every day, but he just silently nodded. As long as he has you and his mother by his side, nothing else matters. "Yes I understand father."

Noritoshi hated talking about his family with you, because of this exact reason. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by this side of their family and get pulled into their family problems. The worst thing would be for you to have a terrible first impression of the Kamo clan.

He understood that you already had a lot on your plate as your missions grew harder and harder. You were often assigned to grade 1 missions alone already. The worst case was for you to get roped into doing messy tasks to please the clan elders.

◇◇◇

You paced around your room, staring at the cupcakes and coffee on your desk. They were getting cold.

Cold. That's how you felt inside and out. You had to confront him. Or else your relationship will just drag you down. You definitely didn't want him to have any concubines. Didn’t want to have a partner who didn’t love you after all.

You were so lost in your emotions that you didn’t realize you were jumping to several conclusions on your own without considering Noritoshi's feelings for you properly.

'But it was starting to make sense' Your mind was screaming at yourself. 'He never explicitly confessed his feelings. He does indeed give me mixed signals from time to time. He shuts me out of private matters to him. He could be using me.’

The one question that was breaking you apart now is: "Was everything a lie? How much of his actions were sincere? He could lie about anything. To get power, that's something the big 3 clans are capable of doing. Satoru told me of some of the horrors already…"

The doubt and feelings of betrayal piled up, until you came to one conclusion: You’ve had enough.

◇◇◇

The next day, you suppressed all your emotions and distracted yourself. You tried your best to act normal around Noritoshi, smiling brightly at him.

It wasn't too effective. Everytime he called you his angel, instead of the delight you usually feel, you felt hurt thinking he was forcing himself to do this.

This can't go on forever. And eventually Noritoshi could start to feel the pain in your heart on his end as well. He hurried to you one afternoon after class, dragging you out to the plum tree away from the buildings.

You looked up at Noritoshi. As handsome as ever. Gentle and concerned (lies), with a strong hand reaching to cup your face (lies lies), speaking so carefully, "My angel, how are you? Why are you troubled? Have I done something to offend you?" (Lies, it was all lies).

He must be lying. Must have been since day 1. The way your brain just jumped to the most terrible scenarios in which he never liked you. There's no other reason. Your breathing quickened.

Both of you were still in the first stage of the soulmate bonding; therefore, you couldn’t share all emotions yet. Just urgent and strong random flashes of it, especially negative emotions. This is why both of you weren’t able to feel the love the other has through the bond yet.

You stopped smiling.

"I overheard your conversation with your father. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but I had a present for you that I wanted to give you yesterday, so I waited outside your room. But that doesn't really matter anymore." You said, cooly shrugging off the hand on your face.

He stiffened, whole body tensing. 'No it was going so well with you, this can't be happening.' He thought to himself.

"Y/n I can explain-"

"Did you even feel anything for me? Besides our red string of Fate appearing?"

The marks on your wrists flowed in warning, searing hot pain flashed across both of you. But you ignored it. The devil on your shoulder pushing you to break things with him.

"Tell me the words you and your father spoke about yesterday were a lie." You begged him.

He couldn't say it was, because the conversation yesterday was only filled with truths. He was so confused, so he stayed silent.

You laughed at him without any real meaning or humor. The light had gone out of your eyes. Noritoshi felt himself shiver at the sound of it.

"So it was all true. Did you like me for me? Or because I'm your so-called soulmate whom you forced yourself to “love”- pshhh not even love, probably to tolerate, for the sake of power?"

Noritoshi’s head felt unfocused and his palms were sweating.

“I’m just a fucking game to you huh Kamo?!” You were freely crying now. He winced at the use of his family name.

Noritoshi found that he couldn’t breathe properly, much less reply to you. He had never seen you like this. What’s worse is your intense fear, sorrow, and disgust towards him was radiating so strongly through your bond.

“No you’re not.” He could hardly get the words out with how hard he’s breathing. It actually felt like the red strings were tying themselves around his neck. You scoffed at him unbelievingly.

He trembled as he lifted both hands to cup your face, but you stepped out of his reach. His hands dropped.

"You liar. I don't want this. If you just want to use me for my body, and to use me for your gain and for your family's benefit only to toss me aside for other women, then I don't want it." You spoke hoarsely. Your entire body was stiff, hands cold and voice quivering.

Your bond was hanging by a thread. The emotions of pain and betrayal bleeding over and muddling the delicate bond.

"I'm out. Go find some other bitch to breed for your sake of your precious heirs. I don't care if we are a fated pair. If you don't wanna put even an ounce of trust and honesty into our relationship then just fuck off." You turned around and walked away.

"Wait, no I-" Noritoshi gasped out as he snapped out of his shock, but you didn't turn back. You walked faster trying to ignore the voice you loved hearing so much.

Even if it hurts to break apart from him now, it is better than to have your heart broken again and again by staying with him.

"Y/n I do care about you. I do think of you everyday. You’re not a game to me. Didn't you hear what I said yesterday?" He called out desperately, stepping forward.

You ignored him, digging your nails into the palms of your hands at the pain from your soulbond falling apart. 'I won't be fooled any longer'.

Your bond was screaming at you to turn around and believe him. To believe that everything you've felt with him these past few weeks were real. That he truly loved you.

"Listen to me!" Noritoshi cried out.

You halted in your tracks. "I'm nothing to you. If you want to have other women as your concubines, go ahead. I know you can pick up as many women as you want with your standing. You clearly don’t need me. So I don't need you." Your last 4 words are a harsh slap to his face.

Snap. And your bond was left barely hanging with the smallest red thread that stubbornly refused to let go. But the damage was done. He couldn't feel your emotions anymore as his head filled with white noise.

Panic overcame Noritoshi like never before. This wasn’t like his normal self. He didn’t let himself think about anything else, but to run and pull you back in his arms.

Until he was physically stopped by an invisible barrier. Your solid air barrier that blocks all sound and forms of matter on the other side, keeping him away from you.

“No, no, no, no. Y/n Come back! I’m sorry! Speak to me!” He cried, furiously pounding at the invisible wall between the both of you. But you couldn’t hear him, much less know how he is feeling. After all, you’ve ended it with him already.

After you left, he remained rooted to his spot. His forehead leaning against the barrier, tears streaming down his face, as he stared at the place where he saw your figure disappear. It wasn't long ago that he had just fallen in love with you.

Your warmth, your laughter, the touches you give to him. Now everything felt so cold. "But I need you." He whispered out, sounding so broken.

The last few wilted leaves of the plum tree fell, leaving it bare to the cold winter. He remembered the words in the soulmate records of the Gojo Clan. “A soulbond can be rejected.”

Maybe he should have told you everything from the beginning and not hold back any secrets. He was terrified that your opinion of him would change, if you found out about his background and his mother. So he wanted to slowly ease you into the Kamo clan.

This was the worst.

As the sky grew dark, he went back into his room and for the first time, didn't bother studying. Just went straight to sleep.

What he wouldn't give to feel anything from your end. Even if it was anger or hatred, it would be better than this empty feeling.

Author's Notes: This chapter was the first chapter I've written before all others and is how Blood Bound came to be. You could say this is the core of the story, since it's the origin. Just had an angsty afternoon one day and chose violence🥰🤧

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[galactic-magick]

I Choose You: Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Summary: Your parents and the Ootoris set up an arranged marriage between you and Kyoya for business reasons.

Words: 3100+                                          

Warnings: swearing, angst

Author’s Notes: uhhhh so my hand slipped and I wrote a whole ass Kyoya fic cuz I love that bitch I’m not sorry. (btw normal text is present and italics are flashbacks. Gender neutral pronouns and language for reader!)

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Your reflection in the mirror haunts you. It hurts. You can’t pretend it’s all a nightmare anymore, this is your reality. The reality you didn’t choose.

But maybe you would if the circumstances were different.

Servants, tailors, and seamstresses are fluttering all around you, making adjustments to your wedding ensemble. It looks perfect, more than perfect. It’s everything you ever wanted, and it looks amazing on you. You continue to stare at yourself in the mirror, knowing how proud your parents would be when you walked to the front of the wedding ceremony. They would be happy, even if you weren’t.

Your parents business has been failing for months now, and they needed to fix it fast. The Ootori family agreed to help if you married their youngest son as a symbol of the partnership. Of course your parents wouldn’t threaten you if you didn’t do it, but you knew how much they needed it. You’ve always known there was a chance you’d end up in an arranged marriage anyway, even if you’ve also always dreamed of love. You were willing to give up a love marriage in order to help them, and after all, you could certainly do worse than Kyoya. You knew he’d treat you well and provide for you, and quite frankly you couldn’t imagine him caring enough to hurt you or bother you.

 “Thank you so much again for making this deal with us,” your father nodded.

“Of course. Your company has quite a few valuable prospects,” Mr. Ootori smiles.

You gazed at Kyoya across the room, who’s barely made any eye contact with you the entire time. You could tell he wasn’t thrilled about this either, but there was something else, something more than disinterest. Was it anger? Determination?

“Shall we leave them alone for a bit? They should get to know each other better if they’re going through with this, don’t you think?” your mother suggested, gesturing to you.

“Certainly,” Mr. Ootori sat up and left the room, your parents following soon after and shutting the door.

“So…” you started, trailing off. What was there even to say?

Kyoya shot up from his chair and began pacing around the room, settling for a few moments by the window but soon going right back to pacing. He chewed his pen a bit, occasionally scribbling things down on his notepad.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He continued to ignore you, deep in thought.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me, but can we at least talk? I’m going to have to live with your ass for the rest of my life you know,”

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” his eyes finally met yours, almost so much it was frightening. “You’re quite attractive actually and I don’t see any reason we wouldn’t get along. But that doesn’t negate the fact that this was forced on us. We have every right to be angry,”

You were stunned that the first thing he said to you was so direct.

“I mean, I guess so,”

“My father doesn’t know how much power I truly have over his company. We could take it from him and make our lives whatever we want. We could continue to work together or we could separate if that’s what you desire. They’ll be sorry for forcing their will on their children,”

“What about my parents?”

“What about them?”

“They’ll go bankrupt without this deal. They’ll lose everything,”

“Their deal is with the company, not my father. Once I become the head I’ll make sure they get what they need,”

Damn, he really had all this planned out.

“How long will we be married before you do all this?”

“It will take at least a year, possibly two. Too quick and we’ll raise suspicion, too slow and we’ll miss our chance,”

You nod. It made sense, but you couldn’t help but feel cheated. He didn’t care about you in the slightest, he was simply using this unfortunate marriage situation for his own gain and revenge. What were you supposed to do for the short time you were married? Sit around his mansion and wait?

You huff, “Look, I’m glad you’re getting some good out of this, but don’t you think we should at least try to be friends? I’m not just going to sit here and be a tool for your masterplan. Whether you like it or not, we’re going to be partners for a while and I’d rather not spend it being bored,”

Kyoya blinked. Clearly he didn’t calculate any sort of relationship into his plan, and the fact you weren’t blindly going along with it confused him.

You roll your eyes, “Can’t we at least go out to dinner a few times? You know, talk a little bit?”

“That sounds dangerously close to a date,”

“So what if it is? You said yourself you think I’m attractive and you think we’d get along,”

“I suppose I did,” he smiled.

 You decide to turn around, hoping not seeing yourself for a few minutes will distract you.

You sincerely hope everything will work out, hope that everything will turn out fine. You trust Kyoya, he’ll do anything he can to keep his word. Your parents will be taken care of. You will be taken care of. His excuse of a father will be out of the picture.

What will you even do when it’s all said and done? Go off on your own? Get more education? Travel? Find love with someone else?

The future’s never been more terrifying.

At least you won’t be miserable. You can tell Kyoya’s made an effort to care about you throughout your engagement, he won’t be an awful husband for the year or so you’ll be married.

But does he really care about you? Or he just acting like it because you asked him to?

 Kyoya picked you up in his limousine for your first “date,” taking you to a fancy restaurant downtown. Surprisingly he was the one to initiate conversations during the whole thing, asking you about your life, your hobbies, your interests. You found you actually have a lot in common, and you end up talking for hours, literally until the restaurant closes and kicks you out.

“I would take you somewhere else, but I’m afraid it’s getting too late,” he said, opening the door of the limo for you to get in.

You frowned. You were actually having a really good time.

“Tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” he raised a brow.

“We could hang out again tomorrow?”

“Sure,”

 You opened your eyes, awoken from some noise outside. You looked around, assuming it was just some branches brushing against the side of the house. You rolled over, trying to get back to sleep.

The banging starts up again, and this time when you sat up you could almost swear you saw a hand through your window.

You stood up, trudging over and opening it.

“Kyoya? What the fuck are you doing?!”

“It’s tomorrow,” he smirked. You gaze at the clock. He’s right, it’s nearly 1 AM.

“I never pegged you for the sneaking out type,”

“Well, I do most of my best thinking at night, so I like to sit on the roof or go for a walk once everyone’s asleep,” he took a look at you in your pajamas. “Would you like to accompany me?”

“Give me a sec,” you shut the curtains and slipped on some clothes and freshened up a bit. You returned and started climbing out the window, Kyoya helping you get down to the ground.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked.

“This was your idea,”

“I suppose so,”

He ended up leading you to a small park his family owned, with a little pond and some benches and trees. You sat down and looked around, listening to the distant sounds of the night.

“I misjudged you, Kyoya,”

“You thought I was an asshole, didn’t you?”

You laughed, “Yeah, just a bit,”

“I certainly can be, I won’t claim otherwise,” he sat down next to you. “But I’m not opposed to expanding my horizons. You offered a valid point. A friendship and partnership may very well be in our best interests,”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “There you go again with your best interests shit,”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re telling me that you’re only trying to be friends with me because it’s in your best interest?”

“Is that…not how friendships work?” he squinted. “I am interested in being friends with you. I am interested in being your partner. Why does that upset you?”

“Because you’re talking about me like my love and respect is something for you to take or gain,”

“I apologize,” he hummed. “I’m afraid I don’t have much experience in the type of relationship you want,”

“You’ve never had a real friend? You’ve never cared about anyone for who they were more than what they could give you?”

“No, I have. Just not many,”

You almost felt…bad for him. He was trying, at least.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t be so harsh,” you looked at him. “I know we can make this work. We just need to be patient with each other, that’s all,”

“Alright,” he agreed.

You continued your conversation from earlier, and things felt good again. You really do get along well, it’s a shame you weren’t actually in love.

 You check your phone, seeing a text from Kyoya sent just a few minutes ago. You open it, and he’s asking where you are because he wants to talk to you. You tell him no, not today, but he insists.

You stop responding, figuring no matter what you say he’ll come anyway. You didn’t tell him where you were, but a quick questioning of a few servants and someone would tell him.

You don’t particularly want to see him right now, not like this. This is your time to feel bad about yourself and lose your mind worrying about the future, and he’s not going to help that.

You don’t hate him, quite the opposite, but he’s only a reminder of what you have but could never be.

 You and Kyoya have gone on several more outings over the past few months, and it’s getting closer and closer to the wedding. He’s taken you to all his family’s properties, resorts, parks, and more. You’ve gone to almost every restaurant in town (yes, even commoner ones, you both found it entertaining), and you’ve spent many nights walking around the city. You’ve spent days indoors playing board and card games and watching movies. You genuinely enjoyed spending most of your free time with him.

But tonight’s a bit different.

Tonight you won’t be alone, on your own terms. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner, and of course both your families were going overboard. Barely any of it was going to be spent actually rehearsing for the wedding. There’s going to be dancing, food and drinks, and basically a party all night long.

Everyone’s going to be watching you, everyone’s eyes are going to be on you.

You met up with Kyoya after getting ready so you could walk in together. You put on your most formal outfits, besides the ones for the wedding a few days from now.

When he saw you, he averted his gaze immediately as if he’d just caught you naked.

“You look good,” he coughed.

“So do you,” you laughed.

He offered you his arm and you took it, walking down the hallway into the ballroom.

You had to do an awful lot of greeting before doing anything else. Everyone wants to talk to you and congratulate you, even people you swear you’ve never met in your life. There’s a mix of family, friends, and other business partners. Some people were probably there simply because they could be due to their status, and had no interest in the celebration whatsoever.

When you’re finally free of conversation, you raced to the table to grab some refreshments. They prepared the best food possible, including some of your favorites.

Kyoya found you again just as you were finishing, offering his arm to you once again.

“May I have this dance?”

You almost choked, “You dance?”

“Of course I do. So is my fiancé going to refuse me or not?”

You smiled and shook your head, giggling a bit as he drags you to the floor.

No one was doing anything particularly complicated, just waltzes, and thank goodness that was the case. You could barely think straight from everything going on.

Surprisingly Kyoya wasn’t a stiff dancer, his movements were consistent but flowed perfectly with the music. He held you closer than you thought he would, but gently.

You felt your body heat up and chills in your stomach and down your spine. How are those two things even possible to happen at the same time?

Well, shit. You weren’t actually falling for him were you?

You thought these past few months would be tedious, but they’ve actually been some of the best of your life. Kyoya’s become your best friend, and gosh you want to spend the rest of your life with him. You understand each other. You both want to break away from your controlling families and finally find your own happiness. You can spend hours talking about everything and nothing. You can make each other laugh like no one else ever has.

Maybe this arranged marriage could become a love marriage. Just maybe.

But no. Kyoya made his intentions very clear. You doubt he’s developed the same feelings for you. He may see you as a valued friend, but he’ll fell nothing when you inevitably break off your relationship in a couple years.

Kyoya must’ve noticed you zoning out in thought, because he stops dancing and brings his hands to your shoulders.

“Are you alright? Do you need some air?”

You nodded, and he leads you out onto the balcony outside the ballroom, keeping a hand on your back.

You take a deep breath, desperately trying to compose yourself after your realization. Should you tell him? No, absolutely not. Bad idea.

Why did this have to happen? Now you were even more miserable. Were you really so weak that you had to catch feelings?

“It’s going to be fine, you know,” he assured you. “I know it seems overwhelming, but by the end of the week we’ll be on our own and they can’t constantly be on our backs anymore,”

“Yeah,” you sighed, your breath stopping in your throat. “Do you think anyone will notice if I leave? I’m exhausted,”

“They probably will, unfortunately,” he looked out at the view. “But we can stay out here until they notice,”

“Thanks,” you grumbled. Your head was throbbing.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You managed to survive the rest of the night, barely.

You tried to get some rest, you have a fitting tomorrow, and then all you have to do is wait for the big day.

 You’ve been standing here for at least an hour, and you’re starting to get irritated. How long does it take to fit something? It looks fine.

You turn around again and stop breathing for a moment when you see Kyoya in the doorway. His hair is ruffled and he looks like he didn’t sleep at all, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I’d like to speak to my fiancé please,” he says.

You look away.

“Absolutely not! Don’t you know you’re not supposed to see each other’s outfits before the big day?” one of the tailors pipes up.

“Well, seeing as I already saw it, I don’t think it matters,” he motions for them to leave. “You’re dismissed,”

He waits until they’re gone before he approaches you, but by that time you’ve fallen down and started crying. You’re shaking on the edge of the platform you were standing on, your hands covering your face.

“You’ve been avoiding me all morning. What’s wrong?” he asks.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be,” you sniffle. “For everyone else this is the best time of their life. But it’s not for me,”

Kyoya crouches down in front of you.

He doesn’t cut in, so you keep going, “Look at me. I look great, I look just like how I wanted to as a kid, but it’s all wrong. Everything’s wrong. I thought I was okay with this, but I’m not. I hate this. I don’t hate you, but I hate this,”

You keep sobbing, trying to pretend he’s not there watching you. It’s not too hard actually, since you can barely see through the tears.

“Well, I suppose this might be the worst time to tell you what I was planning to tell you,” he tries not to laugh as not to be insensitive, but it comes out anyway.

“W-What?” you rub your eyes, seeing him a little clearer.

“I know this won’t fix anything, but I want you to know I do genuinely care about you. It was never part of the original agreement or plan, but I’ve come to feel more for you than I’ve felt for anyone. I just…I want you to know that. You’re not a tool to me anymore,” he takes a deep breath, “I love you,”

You stop crying for a moment, too shocked for the tears to keep flowing. Did he really just say that?

“I understand that you probably don’t feel the same, which is alright. I will still honor our original plan, get you everything you wanted, and allow you to leave whenever you please. But if you’ll have me as your husband, a real husband, you’re welcome to stay,”

The sobs break out again, barely able to get out the words, “I love you too,”

“You do? Really?” his eyes light up.

You nod vigorously, beaming through the tears, “Yes,”

“But you just said you hated this? That you were miserable?”

“Only because I thought you didn’t feel the same,”

“Oh,” he chuckles. “Well then,” he takes your hand and places his other on your cheek, looking into your eyes. “Will you marry me? Please?”

You laugh, “I guess,”

He smiles and pulls your face to his, kissing you softly. You take the initiative to deepen it, slithering your fingers into his tousled hair. He’s the last to pull away, and immediately pulls you back for more, even when you can barely breathe.

You can feel him smiling against your lips, his thumbs wiping all your tears away.

You thought you’d never know what it was like to be truly loved.

But now you do.

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More Author’s Notes: This is my first time writing for OHSHC lol. Might dabble in it more in the future cuz I had a blast writing this XD Hope you enjoyed and feel free to tell me what you think!

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 6.1

Twenty-four hours, thirty minutes, ten seconds and counting.  Xiao continued to pace outside of Dawn Winery in complete silence.  He still hadn't heard a single word from you, and he had stayed awake all night.  Not really a sacrifice since he pulled all-nighters frequently, but his hopes were crushed when his long night was filled with nothing but silence.

Inside, Aether approached Diluc rather quickly with Paimon in tow.  "How would you like to kill Fatui?"

"I beg your pardon?"  Diluc set his glass of grape juice on his desk.  He had been busy with mapping the next wine delivery route when they suddenly barged through his doors.  He kind of wished they had the kindness to knock, but the desperate glints in their eyes caught him off guard.

"We said, how would you like to kill the Fatui?" Paimon crossed her arms.

"We need to infiltrate Snezhnaya.  They took her."

"'Her?'"  Diluc raised a brow, already annoyed by the vagueness of their requests.

"Ugh, the same girl from yesterday! Who earned her cryo vision!  She was taken last night at your tavern! Didn't you see us all run out?"  Paimon's brows furrowed impatiently.

"We need to infiltrate Snezhnaya," Aether repeated and took a step forward.  "We can't do it without you on our team."

"Hold on," Diluc waved a hand to silence them.  "We can't just infiltrate a foreign country.  There are laws and regulations you have to--"

"That's why we came to you!" Paimon yelled.  "If anyone can get us in there, it's you and your underground connections!"

"You hate the Fatui more than anything," Aether continued.  "Will you help us?"

Diluc thought for a moment while he traced the rim of his glass with his index finger.  "We can't recklessly barge into enemy territory.  I'll see what intel I can gather.  Wait here."

Xiao burst through the doors almost as if he had seen a ghost--actually, that would be an inaccurate metaphor since he's quite experienced with the spirits of the dead.  No matter.  He burst through the doors as pale as a sheet.  "I hear her."

..................................................

You glared at the third plate of food that sat upon the stool Childe left in your cell.  You had refused to eat the prior two meals while he was in the cell with you.  He had your cuffs unlocked so you could eat, but you refused to move from your place against the wall.  Cooked fish, some sort of vegetable, and white rice.  They were treating you well.  You were needed alive and healthy, after all, but you weren't hungry.  And since Childe had finally left you alone, well, that gave you the chance to talk to the only person you could.

Xiao.  Xiao! The thought of startling him brought a thin smile to your lips.  I wonder if I scared you...I'm safe--well, as safe as I can be at the moment.  I miss you... Your smile faded.  But I  cannot call for you.  It's too dangerous; I'm sure they already have a way to capture you.  Now that I know you're always listening, it's nice to talk like this.  Less lonely.  

Something clinked against the outer cell door, and it opened.  Childe and one of the harbingers you saw yesterday entered.  The latter held a strange white-and-gray mask that obscured everything besides part of his right cheek and lips.  His bluish-white hair almost seemed to brighten the small room from how light it was.

"It's a sign of disrespect if you refuse to eat the food provided for you," Childe commented once he saw that your plate was yet again untouched.  "We're treating you with more hospitality than our prisoners, after all."

"This is still imprisonment.  Screw off," you brought your knees to your chest as if your legs served to protect you from their stares.

"Ah, yes," the other harbinger picked the plate up and placed it at your feet.  "My test subject needs to eat.  I suggest you do it by your own will before I see to it myself."  

"You might want to listen to him."  Childe was warning you, but not out of consideration for you.

"Go to hell!" You threw the plate at the new harbinger since he was closest, and covered his tidy suit in food.  The white rice mostly clung to the fabric.  Thank the archons that your shoulder was healed and your arm could be put to good use now.

"Listen here, you little--"  The man grabbed you by the collar and lifted you like you weighed nothing until your feet dangled above the ground.  "I don't have the patience of the Tsaritsa's war dog.  I do things quite differently, and you are under my jurisdiction now.  See to it that you follow my orders to the tee, or I can make things very unpleasant here on out."  He dropped you to the floor and exited the cell.

Childe gave you a look of 'I told you so' as he followed suite.

...............................................

What day is it? Your hazy mind stared at the opposite wall.  You lazily traced figure-eights over your tattered jeans.  Approximately twenty-one meals were served--and wasted-- so maybe it was day seven?  A full week of sitting in this barren room?

A few days of no nutrition were of no consequence to you; you were a light eater anyway.  But by day five you were beginning to get dizzy from your voluntary starvation.  You slept most of the day.  The slightest of movements made the world spin around you.  Thoughts of giving in and digging into the meals crossed your mind several times.

I will not falter.  They will not get what they need from me.  I'll starve before they can have me, you gave yourself the pep talk over and over again.  The hours that were filled with zero social interaction drove you mad; you'd either talk to yourself, or to Xiao, who you only hoped could still hear you and maybe even reply in his own mind.  It was a shame the conversation couldn't go both ways.

"I miss you," you murmured a breath.  "If I get out of this, would you like to go eat almond tofu with me?"

Childe entered quietly, and knelt in front of you after giving your full plate the side-eye.  "This little hunger strike of yours needs to stop.  You need to eat."  You didn't answer, and he let out a small sigh.  "Il Dottore finished his set-up this morning.  I'm sure he'll be ready to take you from under my watch by tomorrow at the latest."  He sat down now, and examined you carefully.  

I didn't think we'd break her this quickly,  he thought.  Such a stubborn personality reduced to this pathetic heap of a woman.  A slim smile spread across his lips when he realized how much he loved watching you break under the pressure.

"Leave," you breathed.

"You're smarter than I thought, you know."  Childe placed his chin on the hand that was propped up on his leg.  "If you really thought he had a chance at defeating us, you would have called for Xiao by now.  You've isolated yourself from the only person that caught your eye."

That's what you think, you scoffed.  I've been talking to him this whole damn time.

"Or have you been praying to him?"  Childe's eyes narrowed and the grin on his lips only widened.  The small glance you sent him validated his question.  "You're telling me that this great and mighty adeptus has heard your suffering, and has yet to do a single thing about it?  Are you really sure he's reliable? Oh, ojou-chan," he clicked his tongue and shook his head at you.  "He won't neglect his duties to protect Liyue to come save you."

"You don't know him like I do," a bit of fighting spirit entered your hoarse voice, and your eyes began to glow.

"Oh, but I do.  An ancient yaksha that's at least half the age of Morax himself, falling in love with a human girl?  Is that what you're expecting from him?"  The words cut deeper than his blade had cut through your shoulder.  "You really believe such a hardened soul could learn to love in as quickly as a single human lifetime?  Ojou-chan, open your eyes.  He does not care for you, and he couldn't even if he tried.  Look around you, ojou-chan.  You're still here, in this dark cell, and he's where?  In Mondstat? Liyue?  He doesn't seem to care all too much about you."

"That's because I told him to stay away," you growled, eyes shining brighter.  You curled your fists and prepared to strike him if he had the audacity to continue spewing nonsense.  "You know, you have your entire life to be a jerk.  Why don't you take today off?"

"Even if he did save you, there's no future with him.  You will continue to chase after the illusion of love with him for the rest of your life, only to die alone with your youth wasted.  Even if you escaped, you would be on the run for your entire life, hiding away from the preying eyes of the Fatui.  Is that worth an escape, if you can no longer truly live?

"You're better off working with us, following Dottore's orders, and gaining the trust of the Tsaritsa.  You can make a life for yourself here if you decide to survive.  But out there," he pointed toward the cell door.  "Out there, you will not live."

"You know, your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth!"  You yelled as he exited the cell.  Your plate collided with the door right as it closed.  Hot tears stained your cheeks once you were left alone.

He's only trying to break you into submission, you soothed yourself as you hugged your legs.  They felt thinner than usual.  He's just trying to break me.  But why do his words...make me feel so upset?  You buried your face into your knees.  Maybe he's right.

......................................................

"So the guard schedules all overlap? There's no way in?"  Paimon looked over the scattered notes on Diluc's table.  Most of them held ineligible scribbles on them, and she furrowed her brows because of it.

"This was all you were able to gather in a week?"  Aether pulled at his hair and sighed heavily.

"Not many are willing to oppose the Fatui," said Diluc.  "It took all my resources to get this much.  We don't know the interior layout of the castle other than the main exits and entrances.  But I did manage to find us a caravan that leaves at dawn tomorrow."

"Finally!"  Paimon huffed.  "Something useful!"

"I am sorry I haven't been of use to you all," Zhongli bowed his head in a sincere apology.  "It has been years since I've last seen Snezhnaya and the cryo archon."  You meant a great deal to the group, and Zhongli probably took your abduction the hardest since he could not intervene with the Tsaritsa and her plans.

"At least we finally have enough of a foundation to squeeze out a plan!"

"Have you heard from her at all today, Xia--?"  Aether interrupted himself.  "Are...you okay?"

All eyes turned to antisocial yaksha that stood at the back of the room.  It was a small thing the traveler had noticed, but it was significant enough that it totally contradicted everything Xiao was.

He was crying.

First,  you asked to eat with him when this was all over.  Then an overwhelming sense of dread and helplessness flooded his mind like a tsunami.  A single tear rolled down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away.  A tear?

"Stay out of my way," he disappeared from the room and manifested outside.  What was this unfamiliar clenching in his chest?  This clenching in his throat?  The way his hands tingled and his eyes stung?  The afternoon sun seemed to worsen it.

"Xiao," a deep voice spoke behind him, and he turned to face it.  Zhongli placed a large hand on the yaksha's head and closed his eyes for a moment.  When he released his grip, he too, felt the same pain in his chest.  

"She's in pain," the yaksha murmured.  "Every day she grows weaker.  Her strength, it...diminishes."  While it was a blessing to know you were alive, it was also a curse.  He could hear the uncertainty in your voice when you prayed, and the way you hesitate to speak to him each passing day.  The centuries of hardened walls blocking the yaksha from emotion grew weaker the more you did.

"Your bond has grown," the archon explained the physical and mental phenomena Xiao was being put through.  "You feel her emotions, just as she feels yours."

"Rid me of them," Xiao ordered.  "I have no need for the emotions of a human."

"She is no longer the only one that holds human emotions.  You care for her deeply, do you not?"  No answer. Blank stare. "I'm certain you've contemplated and understood my words in Qingce Village by now."  Zhongli's eyes followed the ascending path of two cranes flying overhead.  "You wish to rescue her, even though Liyue requires your protection?  You're worried I won't grant your request?"

"...Yes."

"Worry no longer; it is granted.  But be warned, Guardian Yaksha, emotions cannot be permanently ignored.  They will rise to the forefront sooner or later,"  his gaze returned to Xiao's.  "You best be sure to share them before they fall on the ears of an early grave."

[wanderinginksplot]

Hello! Um, how about Wrecker with a s/o who has severe childhood trauma, and has a hard time opening up to people other than him?

Hello! First off, thank you so much for this request! It was a good challenge. Secondly, I am so sorry this took as long as it has. I had a pretty uneventful childhood, so I ended up doing a lot of research to write this right, and then I rewrote it about a dozen times... anyway, trauma is only minimally mentioned (at least directly), but I hope you like it!

Wrecker + Traumatized Reader

How did it go today, cyare?" Wrecker asked, dropping a kiss on your cheek. He had just gotten home from a shorter mission with his squad and began stripping off his armor while he waited for your answer.

You always felt silly complaining to him. The things that troopers saw and had to deal with on a daily basis were so much worse than you saw - especially since you were permanently stationed on Coruscant. Still, from the expectant look he sent over his shoulder, Wrecker was waiting for an answer.

"Well…" you started slowly, not sure how much information he wanted, "I think it went okay? The board seemed to like the presentation. The Head Commander said the lack of internal life support in the Phase II armor is an issue they've been looking at for some time. I’m supposed to work on a follow-up. I might throw together some preliminary schematics for a Phase III armor set…"

“Sounds like it went great!” Wrecker encouraged, interrupting you before you could get too lost in your engineering thoughts. You had been known not to emerge for days once you got started. “You've been practicing this presentation forever."

You grinned at him. "Thanks again for being my test audience. I know it isn't something you're really interested in. You guys don’t even wear the Phase II."

"No, but I like listening to you talk," Wrecker told you unabashedly. 

You shook your head a bit at that. "You're such a sweetheart. How did I get so lucky?"

"There's a group of Seppies in the Guard's cells who didn't think I was sweet at all," he told you, sounding mystified. "If it wasn't for Cross, I wouldn't have gotten outta there at all."

You tensed a bit at that, and not only from the reminder of how dangerous his job could be. You knew what was coming. It was only a matter of time… 

"Have you thought any more about it?" Kriff. There it was. You wanted to snap at him, remind him that he was pushing a very firm boundary, but Wrecker sounded so hopeful…

"I- I just don't know, Wreck," you admitted miserably. "I know they're your brothers and I want to meet them, but… it's a lot."

"That's okay," Wrecker said comfortingly. He was doing his best to reassure you, but you could hear the clear note of disappointment in his voice.

Your heart plummeted to your toes. Why couldn't you do this for him? Wrecker was the best, most considerate boyfriend in the galaxy. He was willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of the galaxy, for your safety.

"Okay, let's do it," you agreed abruptly. "When do you want to have me meet them?"

"Really?" Wrecker asked, a smile like dawn warming his face.

You nodded and forced an answering smile. You weren't sure how you would handle the pressure of meeting the other members of the Bad Batch, but for Wrecker? You would figure it out.

He ran off to contact the others and your smile faded instantly. From everything Wrecker had told you, Tech was nice and Hunter was quiet, but Crosshair was rarely anything other than abrasive and rude. And that was to his brothers.

You fought a shudder. Being snipped at always reminded you of growing up - and not in a good way. Sarcastic comments were always the first step, then objective-sounding remarks, and then… You didn’t want to think about what had always come next.

But still, this was important to Wrecker, and you were determined to try.

---

The next day, you were anxiously fiddling with your sleeve as you walked to the GAR with Wrecker beside you. The height difference between you always made you feel like a child being escorted around by an adult, but Wrecker normally took your teasing complaints as the jokes that they were. 

You weren’t saying anything at all that day.

“Hey,” Wrecker said gently, grabbing your hand and stilling the fingers that were slowly unraveling your sleeve. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at him. “What if they don’t like me?”

Wrecker made a strangled sound, like he had started to laugh but thought better of it. “Of course they’re going to like you! Why wouldn’t they like you? And even if they hated you, I like you. And I’m the important one here.”

You wanted to laugh at his exaggerated pout, but the corners of your mouth felt like they were attached to weights as you gave a tight nod and refocused on walking. Wrecker, however, wasn’t having it. Using the light grip he still had on your hands, he tugged you to a stop, forcing the rest of the foot traffic to part around his broad figure as he bent to talk to you.

“Say the word, cyare, and we’ll go home right now.”

“What? No!” you denied immediately. “I said I would meet your brothers, and I meant it. Why? Have you decided you don’t want them to meet me?”

“Of course I want you to meet them!” Wrecker told you. He brushed a hand against your face, smoothing the frown line you could feel forming between your eyebrows. “But I don’t like seeing you this way. If it’s too much, we don’t have to do this. I meant what I said: we can go home right now.”

You searched his face and found only heartwarming sincerity. He meant it. If you said you weren't up for this, he wouldn't be upset or hurt. He wouldn't sulk or find ways to punish you. Nothing would change between you. 

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," you assured him.

Wrecker was your safe space - the exact opposite of everything you had dealt with growing up. He pushed your boundaries, but he made you stronger. As you tripped through the crowd by his side, the idea soothed you more and more until you couldn't stand it.

"Wrecker, wait," you pled, pulling on his arm. 

It was a surprise he had even felt the pull, honestly, but he was so attuned to you that he stopped immediately. He looked down at you with open concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I love you," you blurted, and your face grew hot so quickly that you felt a little dizzy.

"You love me?" Wrecker asked, sounding stunned.

"…yeah…" you said slowly. You weren't really sure why you had needed to say it right that moment, but you knew that you meant it. Wrecker was everything to you, and it had been enough to prompt an admission of feelings that you had never thought you would be able to verbalize.

He was still staring at you and you were getting nervous. "Anyway, we should probably get to the GAR," you told him, striving for a casual tone.

"Forget the GAR! You love me!" The next thing you knew, Wrecker had lifted you up and spun in a quick circle that left you dizzy for sure this time. "I love you, too! We need to go celebrate!"

He set you down and had started down the street in the direction you had come from, dragging you along by your hand as you alternated between laughing and trying to get him to stop.

"Wreck, we can't just not show up to meet your brothers," you protested. "They're waiting for us!"

Wrecker paused, glanced back at you, and heaved a deep sigh. "Fine," he grumbled, walking back toward your original destination. "They get twenty minutes, then I need you all to myself."

The dark-eyed look he sent your way made your mouth go dry. "Fifteen minutes."

He laid a searing kiss on your lips. "Deal."

---

To your shock, the Bad Batch was less intimidating than you had thought they would be. Hunter even made an effort to talk to you.

“So, what is it you do for the GAR?” he asked, dark eyes startling in his half-tattooed face.

“I- uh, I’m an engineer,” you explained. “I helped design the updates implemented in the Phase II trooper armor. Joint Kamino-Coruscant effort and all of that. I didn’t have anything to do with commando armor, though.”

Hunter shrugged. “Still, I’ve heard good things about the Phase II. You did nice work.”

“Thanks!” you said, only slightly too loud. “There are a few things that got lost in translation due to budgetary issues. One of my ideas was to add in a new scope for the larger rifles, one that would acclimate to counter visual disruptions. Brightness, direct sunlight, reflections, and so on. It had a couple other features that were popular with the ARCs and commandos who tested it. Alpha-17 on Kamino said he was keeping his, even though it was just a prototype.”

“Wish I coulda seen that,” Crosshair muttered, his first contribution to the conversation.

“You kind of can,” you offered. “I have a few prototypes left. I brought one along in case you wanted to give me any feedback. I still have hopes for the Phase III…”

Crosshair eyed the scope you were holding out to him, face full of suspicion even as he accepted it from you. He examined it closely for several minutes, dialing in and out of various features as you watched. Eventually, he nodded and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Looks good,” he reluctantly praised, handing the scope back.

You didn’t take it from him. “Actually, that’s a tactical prototype. If you were interested, I would love for you to use it in the field as long as you let me know how it holds up.”

Crosshair’s eyebrows shot up and he chewed his toothpick thoughtfully as he stared at the scope. You weren’t above a little bribery, and had made a few tweaks based on Crosshair’s preferences. Granted, those preferences had been relayed by Wrecker, a man whose go-to weapon was bare hands… 

To distract yourself, you looked to Tech. He had been quiet, almost silent, for most of the meeting. From everything you had been told, that was unusual. 

“Tech, Wrecker tells me that you’ve been analyzing statistical data about your squad to maximize your effectiveness. What kind of variance are you looking at?”

Tech stared at you for a long moment. “A difficult question to answer, as the variance has increased significantly since you and Wrecker met.”

“Excuse me?” you asked politely, taken aback by his implication.

“The frequency at which Wrecker is injured has increased by roughly 2.7% since the two of you started your relationship.”

“Tech,” Hunter reprimanded sharply.

“Ease off,” Crosshair said, voice low.

You glanced at Wrecker, sitting tensely beside you. “You didn’t tell me you were getting hurt on your missions.”

“Just a little,” he admitted, glaring at Tech.

“By my calculations, this places his risk of a fatal accident at 9% and growing,” Tech finished, unbothered by Wrecker’s glare or his brothers’ words of warning. “Added to the fact that Wrecker wears less armor than a trooper of his size should, he is highly at risk.”

“What is this about your armor?” you asked Wrecker, pinching his side when he avoided looking your way.

“Hey! That hurt!” he complained, finally looking down at you.

“Not as bad as a piece of shrapnel would!” you lectured him. “As soon as we get home, I’m going to start working on a better set of armor for you. I have some leftover plates from the commando armor comparison. I can use that as a basis…”

“What about your Phase III?” Wrecker asked, a bit desperately.

“That doesn’t matter!” you snapped. “If I can’t keep you safe, none of it matters! I’m designing heavy-duty armor for you, you’ll participate in extra drills with your team until you get used to it, and I want a report on every injury, minor or not!”

“Told you,” Hunter said, sounding satisfied.

“Five credits,” Crosshair sighed.

“The deal was twenty,” Tech argued, then allowed himself a small smile. “I like them.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed.

Crosshair, studying his new scope, just nodded. You caught only bits of their conversation, though, since you were still semi-arguing with Wrecker.

“C’mon, let’s go back to your place,” Wrecker pled.

“So I can get started on your armor right away?” you asked. “Good idea!”

“But… you love me,” Wrecker pouted.

You softened and leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, ignoring the scoffs and smothered chuckles from his brothers. “I do, Wrecker. I love you so much that I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Now let’s go.”

Wrecker sighed heavily, but clambered to his feet and waved goodbye to his brothers as he followed you out.

---

A/N - I don’t actually know if the Bad Batch wears Phase II clone trooper armor or Katarn-class commando armor, so I just went with commando armor and modified helmets.

Thanks for reading! You can see other works like it here or feel free to request something of your own!

[4stars-uswnt]

You Take My Heart Away [Kelley O’Hara x Reader]

requested by anon: Kelley O’Hara x reader where reader gets into a fist fight but she’s like I won’t throw the first punch bc I’ll finish it and like she gets teased by the team but Kelley is mad at reader for it bc R could’ve gotten hurt but it was still cool

requested by anon: Can we get another Kelley O’Hara x reader doesn’t have to be anything specific just maybe along the lines of them both being crazy and maybe oblivious

A/N: i decided to combine these two prompts! hope y’all enjoy it. also bonus points to anybody who gets the title reference (there’s a lil connection to a reference within the story)

warnings: homophobic and sexist language, violence, and swearing

Conversation was flowing and music was playing in the background of the bar, as the USWNT finished up their first round of drinks and appetizers. The team had pushed together a couple of tables, where you all were now sitting, laughing at each other’s jokes.

The air was light, victory and celebration filling the atmosphere. Megan and Ashlyn had been the ones to suggest a night out after your win against Japan, not only to celebrate the 2-0 victory but also to celebrate Lindsey’s birthday that was in the next couple of days.

You were currently sitting next to your best friend, Kelley O’Hara, bridging the gap between the veterans and the youngsters.

“Anybody want another drink?” Alex asks, pushing her chair back, as she moves to get up.

A chorus of yeses ring out, the team’s orders ringing out.

“I’ll help you with that, Al.” You stand up from your seat, giving the other woman a warm smile.

Once the two of you had left for the bar, the rest of the team began interrogating Kelley, who let her eyes follow you as you moved through the crowd.

“Kel,” Ash calls out over the noise of the music. “When are you gonna admit to (Y/N) that you’re hopelessly in love with her?”

“What?” Kelley sputters, flustered.

Megan rolls her eyes at the defender. “It’s so obvious that you’ve had a crush on her for the past like six years, and a blind person can see that she likes you too.”

“I- I’m not in love with (Y/N).” Kelley’s face flushes, as she rubs the back of her neck nervously. “She’s my best friend.”

“Kelley,” Christen softly chimes in,, hoping to talk some sense in her friend she’s known since college. “You guys obviously have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship, and you’ve been dancing around them for years. We just want you two to be happy.”

Many of the women nod and voice their agreement.

“But what if it ruins our friendship and I lose her forever?” The freckled defender bites her lip nervously.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Christen gives her a knowing look. “Even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, she’s not gonna cut you out of her life.”

“And Kel,” Tobin adds on. “You never know until you ask her. And who knows? The risk of putting your heart out there may be worth it. But you’re just gonna live in the dark haunted by the unknown and what ifs unless you tell her how you feel.”

“I hate that you’re philosophical insights are usually right,” Kelley huffs.

Meanwhile, as the team holds their intervention for your best friend, you and Alex were at the bar ordering another round of drinks.

As you were waiting for the bartender, you and Alex were engaged in your own conversation, when you hear a boisterous voice interrupt you.

“Hey! It’s Alex Morgan!” A large man approaches the two of you, holding a half-full cup of beer in his hand, and you have a feeling he’s downed a couple pints already.

You sense Alex tense up next to you, as she gives the stranger a tight smile. “Hello.”

“Oh, and who’s this?” He turns to you, a leering grin on his face, making your insides turn. You reach for Alex’s hand in search of comfort but also as a protective gesture.

“Is she your girlfriend?” The man looks back at the star forward. “I hear your entire team is full of d*kes, but I didn’t think you were one. You’re way too hot to be a d*ke.”

Alex’s grip on your hand tightens, as anger radiates off of her. “I’m actually happily married.” She raises her left hand to show off her ring.

“Woah.” The stranger lets out a low whistle, his eyes slowly widening before he squinting to get a better look, as his movements impaired by the alcohol. “That is quite the rock. How’d you afford that with your pay? I’ve heard all about your team’s fight for equal pay and all that. I personally think it’s a load of crap. You guys aren’t even that good at soccer, and it’s so boring. The only thing that makes your games interesting is your smoking hot bodies.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust at this man’s blatant misogyny. “I’m surprised you know about our equal pay fight. I’d think it’d be too complicated for your thick skull,” you quip, throwing the insult right in his face.

“Ooooo feisty, are we?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “And where do you get off calling me dumb?”

“I’m just calling them as I see them,” you simply state, letting go of Alex’s hand, as you move to stand in front of her protectively. “Where do you get off disrespecting women and being a bigot?”

“(Y/N/N), it’s not worth it,” Alex whispers in your ear.

“I’d listen to your friend,” the man sneers and stands up straighter, slightly sobering up. “Because I’m not afraid to hit a girl, especially a mouthy one like you. Women like you deserve to be put in your place.”

“Go on then,” you challenge, probably a stupid decision on your part, but the adrenaline is rushing and you are at your wits end with this man in front of you. “I dare you.”

You thank all the gods in the universe that the stupid stranger was actually stupid enough to try and throw a punch with his blood-alcohol level because you can see his punch coming from a mile away.

Before his fist can make contact with your face, you grab his hand and twist his arm, leaning in closely to his face. “Is that all you got? My mom hits better than you.” You smirk.

“Let go of me, you bitch,” he growls, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Wait, I have one more thing,” you call out.

“What the hell are you talk-”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, rather your fist cuts him off. The man in front of you had been testing your patience and had used up all your grace, which, in your opinion, warranted a punch in the face.

You can’t help but wince at the sharp pain shooting through your hand upon the contact, but the cracking sound of his nose eases some of your discomfort.

By now, the rest of the team had become worried by your prolonged absence and then had noticed the commotion this stranger was stirring. Hearing the raised voices coming from your direction, many of the veterans, including Kelley, Christen, Tobin, Ash, Ali, and Megan, made their way over to where Alex was currently holding you back from unleashing your anger on this drunk man.

“What is going on here?” Becky asks, surveying the situation in front of her.

“This asshole was insulting Al and then had the audacity to continue being a sexist pig,” you spit out, directing your words at the man, who was still holding his bloody nose, while Alex was doing her best to keep you under wraps.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Ashlyn states firmly.

As the goalie, along with Becky, Megan, and Ali, coax the stranger into leaving you alone, and hopefully leaving the club, Alex, Christen, Tobin, and Kelley try and calm you down.

“(Y/N/N),” Christen soothes, cupping your face. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.” The curly-haired forward inhales and exhales, motioning for you to mimic her actions.

You take a deep breath, and upon exhaling, you feel the tension, along with the adrenaline, leave your body.

“Shit,” you sigh. “My hand.”

You lift your right hand, revealing your split knuckles on which bruises were starting to form.

“Come on, Sylvester.” Tobin claps your shoulder, letting out an amused chuckle. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, and on the way, you can tell us all about your heroics.”

You amusedly roll your eyes and lean into the other woman’s side.

As the team gathers their things, ready to call it a night after the turn of events, Megan approaches you, holding out a bag of ice.

“Here, (Y/N), the bartender gave me this for your hand.”

“Thanks, P.” You place the cool ice on your knuckles, hissing at the temperature shock.

On the way back to the hotel, many of your teammates were interrogating you about what had happened back at the bar. After telling the entire story, you received many hoots and hollers from the rest of the team.

“Damn (Y/N)!” Ash whistles. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“Way to protect our honor,” Rose gushes, as many of the women nod along.

“Thank you, (Y/N), for defending me,” Alex says sincerely.

“Of course, Al. Anytime.” You give the forward a warm smile.

“Who knew (Y/N) could be such a badass?!” Emily exclaims with an impressed look on her face. “Kel, did you know that your best friend was a secret badass?”

While the rest of the girls had been teasing you about your heroic actions, your best friend had been oddly quiet.

“News to me.” Kelley answers shortly, her face hard and distant. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering if the defender was mad at you. You thought she would’ve been proud of you for standing up for the team and putting a sexist douchebag in his place.

Before going back to entertaining your teammates’s jokes and questions, you make a mental note to talk to her once you get back to the hotel, silently thanking Vlatko for rooming the two of you together this camp.

You would never in a million years admit it, but you were harboring a huge crush for your best friend, had been for the past six years, ever since you’d joined the national team. Not only did you not want to ruin your friendship and end up losing Kelley, but you knew she would never return your feelings.

Over the past several years that you’d been friends with the defender, you’d seen Kelley go in and out of relationships, and comparing yourself to her other girlfriend’s, you had a feeling you weren’t her type.

You also had reservations due to the fact that Kelley was your teammate, and you didn’t want to change the team dynamic, especially if the two of you didn’t work out.

Thoughts of Kelley clouded your mind all the way back to the hotel, only further exacerbated by her deafening silence.

Upon arriving to the hotel lobby, before you all disperse to your rooms, Alex gives you another hug and thanks you again, and Becky, ever the mother of the group, gives you a warning.

“Make sure to ice on and off. 20 minutes. You know the drill, (Y/L/N). Kelley, make sure she takes care of that hand.”

“Don’t worry about me, Becks. I got it,” you reassure the veteran defender, giving her a mock salute.

Following Kelley, you cautiously enter the hotel room. You nervously watch the other women move around the room, as she silently goes about her usual nighttime routine. Taking the hint that she wasn’t going to talk to you anytime soon, you go about your own routine and get ready for bed.

After about twenty minutes later, after both of you had showered, you were finishing wrapping your hand and were about to get into bed, when you noticed Kelley discretely staring at your bandaged hand.

Unable to tolerate the silence anymore, you break the tension. “Okay, what is up with you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kel,” you sigh, plopping down on the side of her bed. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder ever since what happened at the bar. Are you mad at me?”

“Nope. Not mad,” Kelley hums slightly passive aggressively, still not looking up from her book.

You roll your eyes, frustrated by your best friend’s childish behavior. “Kelley, I know when you’re lying, and I know that you’re mad at me right now, so would you please just look at me?!”

Sensing the exasperation and frustration in your voice, Kelley closes and sets down her book. “Fine, you’re right. I am mad at you.”

You thought you’d feel relieved, hearing her confirm your suspicions, but instead, the pressure in your chest increases.

“Why? What did I do?” You practically beg, scooting up the bed, so you’re closer to the other woman.

“As if you don’t know,” she scoffs.

Confused, you tilt your head. “I clearly don’t. Kel, please talk to me, tell me what I did.”

“You literally punched a dude in the face!”

“Yeah, but he deserved it, Kel! You heard the things he was saying,” you defend. “I couldn’t just let him get away with talking about our team like that. I thought you’d be proud of me for standing up to a sexist asshole like him.”

“I am proud, sort of. I mean that was completely badass and totally warranted, not that I necessarily expected that from you, and I’m glad you put him in his place,” Kelley babbles. “But that’s not the point, (Y/N/N). You were reckless tonight. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Your face softens at her outburst. Taking a deep breath, Kelley confesses, “I love you, (Y/N). I’m in love with you, and I just can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, especially by some drunk idiot who doesn’t know shit about football or respecting women.”

Your eyes widen and your heart practically stop, when you process the words that have come out of your best friend’s mouth.

“(Y/N), please say something,” Kelley begs.

“You’re in love with me?” You test the words on your mouth.

“Yeah,” she sighs contently, giving you a soft smile. “Have been for the past eight years.”

“Gosh, we really are idiots.” You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, Kel,” you rasped, your voice laced with pure emotion. “I’ve loved you since my first camp.”

“Wow,” Kelley scoffs, an amused grin playing on her face. “Are we really that oblivious?”

“Apparently so.” You shrug. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah, we are.” The freckled woman softens. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, leaning in to meat the other woman’s lips. The kiss is nothing like you’d dreamed of; it’s better. It’s soft and tender, full of love and passion. You melt into each other, as your lips move together in harmony.

Not wanting things to get too heated, especially not before you’ve talked about what this meant for the future of your relationship, you pull away, resting your forehead against hers.

“Hi,” you whisper, smiling like a fool.

“Hey,” Kelley murmurs softly, returning your smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She takes your hand, kissing your wrapped knuckles. “But please don’t be getting into any more bar fights.”

“Hey! I would never start a fight, however I have no problem finishing them.” You smirk, boasting slightly triumphantly.

Kelley rolls her eyes playfully, but then looks into your eyes. “I mean it, (Y/N). I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. So no more fights alright?”

“I promise, Kel.” You give her a chaste kiss.

“Good.”

That night, you stay in Kelley’s bed, cuddling into her side. As you slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, you notice the woman next to you is already fast asleep.

You sigh contently, and you can’t help but feel extremely lucky that even after all these years, and everything that’s happened, life still led you to this woman and a love worth fighting for.

[mah-gah-lee]

be stuck with you - owen patrick joyner x (reader)

Word Count: 2303

Request: YES, from that sweet @idontcare011​, hope you’ll like it ! 

Summary:  you were late and a random boy comes into the elevator at the last minute. By some incredible force of fate (or pretty crappy weather) you find yourself stuck with the young man in this narrow cabin.

Warnings: panic attack and i think it’s all

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her).  All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ 

---

Thanks God, the quarantine was over and everyone could travel again. However, this stupid virus was not completely gone. Since the health crisis, you have adopted new habits, such as taking the stairs instead of the elevator. But today, you were in a hurry, so you entered the cabin eagerly. The conference you were due to attend was starting in no less than twenty minutes, and your itinerary had said it would take you 15 to get to your planned location. But with the weather conditions creeping in out there, you were sure you would need a lot longer than advertised. The automatic door was closing when a hand stepped in the way. A young blond man appeared and slipped into the elevator. You grumbled at the action, making you fall a few more seconds behind.

 "Sorry" the boy said through his mask.

 But you didn't answer.

 You had almost ten floors to go down together. You looked in your bag for a while to make sure you had your recorder when you felt an uncontrolled jerk. Your body no longer held you in balance but you caught yourself on a side of the elevator as the young man accompanying you tended to stabilize you. The lights flashed for a while and then went out. Your eyes widened as your heart pounded.

 "oh no no no no no no no. Anything except that, please!" you said, frantically pressing a random button.

 “I think we stuck…”

  "Oh yeah, what makes you think that?" The fact that we weren't moving or that the lights went out? "

 The boy threw up his hands in defense, eyes wide with so much animosity.

 "Hey, I'm in the same situation. You don't have to be aggressive."

You groaned before leaning against one of the elevator walls, peering into the face of your elevator failure companion. He had blond hair; his tips reached the base of his neck. But his expressive blue eyes - seeming constantly anxious - reminded you of someone, but you didn't know who. You have pushed the alarm button to warn the staff that there was someone in the lift.

 “Sorry, it’s seems to be a bad day. I’m late and now I’m stuck in an elevator with a perfect stranger”

 “I’m Owen…Not a stranger anymore”

 “I’m y/n, but yes, you still are”

 Owen laughed at your outspokenness and you gave him a polite smile before you were silent for several minutes.

 After what seemed like forever - when it was only ten minutes - you looked at your phone. No networks. For no obvious reason, when everything seemed to be going well, your heart started to beat faster. The thought of being stuck here forever crossed your mind and ached in your chest. The boy in front of you seemed so calm, which made you even more anxious.

 "How the hell can you stay so calm"

 "Oh ... I'm dying inside, just trying to play it cool"

 You can help with giving him an amused smile, he had been so frank. But this little interaction did not bring you back down from your state. You were breathing harder and harder, your chest was heaving quickly, it was nearly out of control. Owen seemed to notice that and give you a concerned look.

 "Panic attack?"

 You nodded briskly and Owen approached you cautiously. You saw his hands move towards you and your gaze expressed fear but you were paralyzed to do anything.

 "I'm going to take that damn mask off you already."

 Gently, he grabbed the fabric mask and pulled a little on it to lower it, he reproduced the gesture with his own mask.

 "Look at me, just me. There's nothing around us. Take a deep breath. I'll count to 3 and then you'll breathe out. Okay?"

 you nodded and when he shook his to urge you to breathe you took a deep breath, like he told you to.

 "1..2..3"

 You sighed, keeping your gaze on him. You started once more and when the blonde asked you if it was better, you were shaking your head negatively.

 "We're starting over but… take my hands and squeeze them as much as you need. Don't worry about grinding them."

 You grabbed his hands and restarted each step over, crushing his hands. But the contact with matter, your breath and Owen's comforting eyes, help you gently. A soothing silence has settled between you. Owen had helped you through this panic attack when you didn't even know each other. But you could feel deep inside that this man was good. Things seemed to calm down for you and you thanked Owen with a genuine smile.

 “You know how to deal with it ... Thanks for that.”

 “I also suffer from anxiety and panic attack. But the elevator is big enough here that it doesn't cause me one. Although I am a little anxious ...”

 “hey, breathe Owen.” You replied with a smirk

 Owen laughed and shook his head as if to say "that's a good one!" You look at the young man again, staring at him intently. It was very rude but you couldn't put a name on his face anymore. You were sure you knew him. Was he a distant cousin? A neighbor? A guy you knew in high school? Or just a guy you saw in an ad? Maybe the ad for these new cereals!

 “Excuse me but ... I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I?”

 “In an elevator, yeah!” he joked

 You laughed he was funny

 “No, I mean ... I feel like I've seen you before but I really can't remember where.”

 he sighed, as if a little tired of the question. You were surprised at his reaction but Owen answers you anyway

 “Yeah, I don't usually talk about that when I first meet a girl, especially when I'm stuck in an elevator with her but ... I'm an actor. I played some stuff on Nickelodeon and now I'm supposed to shoot season two of Julie and the phantoms, it's a Netflix series.”

 You watched him chattering, you nodded then wide your eyes. This is where you saw it! You had been relentlessly browsing the Netflix catalog and seeing the trailer for the series he told you about, but you had avoided it, the show seemed too childish for you. You first reaction was to make fun of him

 "Again, don't forget to breath Owen. But the way, I didn’t want to bother you with that question."

 He laughed lightly then smiled politely at you. You didn't seem to be a hysteric or a weird person. He had a deep feeling that you were a good person, which is why Owen seemed to relax.

 "It's just ... for a while, I thought you were a fan and I didn't want things to be weird all suddenly "

 "Oh don't worry I haven't seen any of your shows.” you said nonchalantly

 Owen burst into laughter. Once again, it was bafflingly sincere and he was really starting to enjoy being stuck in an elevator with you. You smiled, the energy in the cabin was positive that you almost forgot you were stuck with this young man for almost half an hour. You didn't know when you were going to be able to get out of here but you didn't really care anymore for the sole reason that you wanted to get to know this man. You tilted your head back, resting it against the elevator wall before sighing loudly. Seconds later, your gaze turned to Owen again.

 “So tell me about this series that you’re filming. What is it about?”

 "It's a pretty cool show actually. It's directed by Kenny Ortega, I don't know if you see who he is."

 "Hell yeah ... he's the choreographer of Dirty Dancing"

 "Himself ... So what about the storyboard ... It's about ..."

 And then, you listened to him to tell you about the series. Something like a '90s band dying of food poisoning from a bad hotdog and returning twenty-five years later as ghosts to help a super talented young girl to make music after her mom passed away. It made you laugh; it was probably the dumbest death on TV after Marion Cotillard's in Batman. He couldn't even stop anymore so that he sometimes swapped over a few anecdotes from the set. You even got a little exclusive on season two before Owen stopped in the middle of a sentence.

 "Sorry, I got a little carried away. But when you like your job, it's pretty easy to talk about it."

 You smiled at him and Owen started asking you questions, about your work, your life, your passions and you were giving him back. The conversation was fluid, natural You learned that he was German, that his mother tongue was German until he was about four years old, that he had a sister and had lived with his parents until that year when he moved into his own apartment. Getting to know Owen was really nice and you could feel your stomach twist every time he smiled. He was a boy full of humor but also sarcasm.

 You've been stuck with Owen for an hour and a half now. You ended up sitting on the floor of the elevator. Boredom was really starting to take hold of you. You rummaged through your bag for something, anything. An idea crossed your mind when you saw the small block of post-it notes.

 "Owen"

 "hmm?"

 "How would you like to play a game?"

 "What kind of game do you want to play here?"

 "Who am I?"

 "Obviously you are y/n" he tells you with a smirk.

 You laughed before pulling out your notepad and a pencil to show it to the blonde. He claimed to have understood your intention, which made you smile even more. Of course, Owen knew the game you wanted to play. He nodded, and you'd write a celebrity's name on a sticky note before sticking it on your new friend's forehead. He did the same for you. Fortunately, your two post-its are well stuck. Owen spoke

 "I start: am I a man?"

 "Obviously" you say with a smirk, responding to the blonde's previous joke.

 Owen laughed, catching the tone of your voice.

 “But how funny she is! Is my character a man?” He continued.

 You did several parts. You even teased him when he made you guess Julie and the phantoms, because the game didn't stop only with characters, celebrities but also series, movies, musicals. You were laughing when there was another shake, stronger than the first, the lights came back on and you couldn't help but be disappointed. You looked at Owen and he seemed to have the same gaze as yours. The doors barely opened and you found the hotel staff, patiently waiting to ask if you needed medical assistance, while also offering you a bottle of water. You left the elevator car, hurriedly stuffing the many post-its into your bag. You didn't really know how to act with the blond guy next to you. You had formed a little bubble in that enclosed space and now it seemed to have burst. For some strange reason, it made you sad. Now is the time to part ways with your new friend.

 “well, good-goodbye, it was nice to meet you.”

 you rushed into the hotel lobby a little more, but Owen seemed to catch up with you, his long legs only having to take a few strides.

 "wait, y/n!"

 You turned to him, you could see the embarrassment on his cheeks, asking with a frown what was the cause.

 "I think you let that go"

 "No, I don't"

 You looked at the crumpled white paper. It even looked like a piece of chewing gum. And at first glance, Owen's perfectly white teeth were chewing one.

 "I think you did."

 He handed you the paper with a determination that convinces you. You bite your lip as you look at the series of numbers on the packaging: a phone number. His telephone number. Owen swallowed hard as he looked at you. His eyes never leaving your lips.

 "It's pretty spontaneous of me but ... I won't start filming until next week. I hope you're still here the day after tomorrow ... because I would really like to ask you to come have a drink with me ... "

 Your cheeks turned red, did he really just ask you for a date? You did not know what to answer. The urge to say yes was so present but you were afraid to rush. Perhaps humor was your only defense

 "it depends"

 "about what?"

 "Does this appointment include a blocking session in an elevator? This is the only way it works"

 Owen laughed before giving you a genuine smile, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth. God, what a beautiful man.

 "I can try to fix this and find a faulty elevator."

 "So expect a text from me"

 You smiled back at him and gave him a wink before turning on your heels. Owen's heart skipped a beat and he when he arrived several hours late in the hairdressing section of the set, Charlie laughed at him saying that he had never seen him so happy to have a haircut. hair. But in reality, the blond was only waiting for one thing, and that was to receive a message from you, which arrived in a second.

 (y/n) text : "After being stuck in an elevator, here I am stuck in traffic ... Are you sure you want a date with me, you might just end up stuck with me?"

 Owen couldn't help but smile broadly.

 Owen text : "I'm sure. I'd love to even be stuck with you (again).”

(y/n) text : “Fine, ghost boy. See you soon”

[juniorgman187]

The Bones (Reid Series) Part 1

Summary: Almost a year after Maeve’s death, Spencer reaches out to the recipients of Maeve’s donated organs to reconnect with his lost love. However, when the receiver of her heart, Reader, doesn’t write back, Spencer goes on a poorly-motivated mission to find her. 

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier   (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing)

A/N: There is an OC in this story because to me, writing “(y/n)” over and over again cheapens the story and doesn’t flow well. It was a personal decision, and to anyone it sincerely bothers, I’m sure there’s a way you can insert your own name instead. This fic is also inspired by “Things We Know By Heart” by Jessi Kirby. Category: Series, Soft Angst, Eventual Smut + NSFW content* Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC Content Warning: allusions to death, mourning, loss, recovery, arrhythmia (this is an intro chapter, so it’ll get more interesting from here I promise) Word Count: 2.2k

This will be a multi-part series.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

It all started that first autumn after Maeve’s death - just five weeks past a year since I parted with her. I was absentmindedly reading when, rather out of the blue, Mary Donovan called to inform me about a Mrs. Rachel Larsen. 

Although we didn’t learn her actual name until later, she was first known to us as the recipient of Maeve’s liver. Not a single one of the three of us - Maeve’s parents and me - had expected a recipient to be in contact with us. That inability to predict such an event was caused by my neglect to remember Maeve was an organ donor. It wasn’t particularly relevant in the grand scheme of things, and for that forgetfulness, I was truly ashamed, but after reading Rachel Larsen’s letter together with the Donovans, it all came back to me. 

Every single thing. 

You see, despite the anonymity of the person writing to us, it was as if I could actually feel Maeve’s soul coming alive again, as strange as that sounds. 

She was still here with me ... in some form. 

Later that night, when I would return to an empty apartment, I would wonder why I hadn’t thought of reaching out to the recipients before. Even though I’d already started writing a thank you letter back to Rachel, the thirst for more of Maeve became increasingly insatiable. 

While I did have fond memories of her to live by, I couldn’t thrive off of them in the way that I did with that letter. Our only moments together worth reliving were those spent over the phone, a time when I didn’t even know what she looked like. But that letter from Rachel Larsen ... it was somehow more wholesome and pure than any memory of the living Maeve that I could cultivate.

You could say I was doing this to ease my mourning, meaning it should’ve made me feel better, but that didn’t stop the guilt from eating away at me piece by piece as I wrote letters to the rest of the recipients. 

The Donovans had no idea I was doing this, but I reasoned to myself that they would appreciate the surprise. Though they were still undeniably riddled with grief, smiles embellished their sullen faces when they read about Rachel’s quality of life now with a new liver. So maybe, just maybe, hearing from the rest of the receivers would be good for us all. At least, that’s what I told myself.

In one of those rare moments when inspiration strikes and it courses through your veins at the speed of lightning, I found myself being more productive than I had been in nearly a year. By midnight, I’d successfully composed five letters, each dedicated to the receiver of one of Maeve’s major organs - none of which, though, included my identity.

Given the fragile process of contacting the transplant coordinators, getting consent forms, and premeeting counseling, it would be months, if not years, before I would be able to really speak with these faceless people. Nothing against Donor Family Services - I’m sure they do the best they can - but for me, their best wasn’t good enough. So instead, I enlisted the help of someone I knew could never let me down. 

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Penelope peered up at me from her seat, her pinky finger hesitantly hovering over the ‘enter’ button. 

“Yes.” 

With just one click, she discovered the addresses of each one of those faceless people. This singular operation, albeit somewhat unethical, was the final piece to my puzzle. All there was left to do now was send the letters to them, with the tenuous hope they might send one back. 

Luckily for me, not a single recipient questioned how I managed to find them or why this process wasn’t being handled by Donor Family Services, but I suppose if they did wonder those things, they didn’t feel comfortable asking me. Especially not after they learned who I was in relation to their donor. I didn’t intend to guilt-trip anyone with what I wrote in my letters nor did I want to take advantage of anyone’s empathy, but how could you possibly make a foe out of your organ donor’s grieving boyfriend? Exactly - you can’t. So you don’t. Instead, you send an inviting letter back, telling me you’d love to meet. Which is what four of them did.

Only one person didn’t reply, and while an 80% success rate was great, I simply couldn’t let this one go. Trust me, I would have ... had it been any other organ. 

For quite some time, I was the one with Maeve’s heart. 

I just needed to see where it was now.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The heart has several definitions and corresponding connotations. 

Scientifically speaking, the heart is a hollow muscular organ that pumps the blood through the circulatory system by rhythmic contraction and dilation. However, figuratively, the heart can be seen as the central or innermost part of something. The heart of a city, for example. But in literature, the heart is symbolic of love. It is often regarded as the source of all knowledge, which is where the comparison between the head and the heart comes from. The head operates logically, whereas the heart functions emotionally, but despite the rationality the head holds, the heart is what people advise you to listen to because it holds the ultimate truth. 

The heart, because it is equipped with your truest feelings, supersedes any logic and reason the head might hold. 

But you see, I only ever knew Maeve’s mind. I could understand the inner workings of it - I’d probably be able to navigate through her consciousness if I entered it given the fact that our intellect matched one another’s - and I shared nearly identical thought processes with her, but that was all that I ever knew. 

And if that was how much knowledge she held in her head alone, then, undoubtedly, her heart held so much more.

Science defines the heart as an organ. Figurative language uses the heart to establish a focal point. Literature likens the heart to love. But I compare her heart to the ocean. Like the sea, Maeve’s heart was 80% undiscovered, and exploration was simply calling my name. 

For that reason, and that reason alone, I couldn’t abandon my pursuit of it. 

That’s not to say I wasn’t ashamed of this mission, though. If anything, shame for the man I had become in the face of Maeve’s death was the only feeling I was truly capable of anymore. Any other emotions were fleeting or insincere. 

Unfortunately, that slimy, disgusting feeling was only amplified times ten when I found myself driving two hours and forty-five minutes to get to Virginia Beach. 

No sane man would drive this far on a weekday for even their most prized possession, and yet here I was, exactly 180 miles away from home, seeking out someone who hadn’t had the courtesy to even write me back, let alone agree to meet with me. Who knows if she’d even give me the time of day. 

She being Valerie. 

“Valerie Elise Bishop was born on August 5th, 1988 in Henderson, Nevada, to parents Andrew and Sara, but when Valerie turned seventeen, she was diagnosed with arrhythmia,” Garcia explained to me over the phone on the car ride here. “It’s when-”

“When the electrical impulses that coordinate your heartbeats don't work properly, causing your heart to beat too fast, too slow or irregularly,” I accidentally cut in. Realizing I interrupted Garcia, I brought her back into the conversation by asking, “I know there are more than 3 million cases per year in the U.S, but isn’t it usually common for ages 60 or older?” 

“You are most certainly correct, Boy Wonder. It is more common in ages 60 and older, however, her maternal grandmother passed away from arrhythmia, so the family history increased the likelihood.” 

At the sound of this news, I had to pull the car over and physically stop just so I could grasp the weight of what I was really doing. 

“In Henderson, Nevada ... maternal grandmother passed away ... family history increased the likelihood …” Garcia’s voice rang in my head. 

It was then that I came face to face with the gravity of reality. 

Valerie wasn’t just a faceless name or a recipient of Maeve’s heart, she was a person. And her humanity only became more apparent to me the more Penelope spoke. 

For god’s sake, she and I grew up in the same state. She and I saw the same sunsets from the same little corner of the earth. She drove down the same highways and byways - we might’ve even crossed paths at one point or another! Not to mention that she lost her grandmother to the same disease that she was suffering from, and if there was one thing consistent about arrhythmia, it was very likely she’d been living with it for decades, if not her entire lifetime. It’s a long term disease that takes years to improve but only seconds to kill. All it would take is just one irregular beat, and she’d be dead. How can you possibly live with that constant fear looming over your head? 

She is a person. I had to remind myself. Not just a means to explore more of Maeve. 

“Hey, Garcia,” I turned the car back on. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” 

“What do you mean?” I could just feel panic begin to rise in Garcia. 

“No, I’m not talking about life, I’m talking about this.” Though she couldn’t see, I grandly gestured to the location, the car, and the passenger seat that was cluttered with files on Valerie. “I don’t feel right invading her privacy like this. It’s just selfish.” 

I wasn’t the only one mourning something here. 

“Are you sure?” Penelope clarified. Which was ironic considering she was the one who was unsure of doing any of this, to begin with. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have dragged Garcia into this. Something as immoral as this was totally against her character, but she did it anyway because her loyalty to her friends conquers all. 

Like I said, my shame multiplied times ten. If not for Valerie, then certainly for Penelope. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m heading home.” 

“Okay,” She softly returned. “Be safe.” 

“Oh, and Garcia?” I asked before ending the call. “Thanks.” 

“Of course. Anything for you, Dr. Reid.” 

By the time I ended the call, the sun was already setting - that’s how long I’d been on the road for. The nearly-three-hour drive I would have to make for the second time today meant I wouldn’t be home in time to beat the pitch-black sky, so considering I was already in for a long night, I made a little detour for the one thing I couldn’t go home without.

A piping hot cup of coffee. 

I felt something as rewarding as caffeine was well deserved for the self-restraint I demonstrated minutes ago. And maybe it was my exhaustion, both mental and physical, that brought me to the near conclusion that I would truly let this go, but I was honestly feeling like I could accept this. An 80% acceptance rate. Not bad, right? 

Though I was basically half-asleep while waiting for my coffee, I could not miss the barista when she said, “Valerie! Your order’s ready!”

What are the chances?

A jolt of energy surged through my body and brought me back to life, causing me to whip my head around at the slightest semblance of movement. On instinct, my gaze gravitated to the woman walking towards the front counter. My pull to her was so strong that even if I hadn’t studied file upon file on her that included pictures of what she looked like, I still would’ve recognized her in a heartbeat.

I just knew. That’s her. 

I had no plan whatsoever for how I should approach this, and yet I still rose from my seat, motivated by nothing more than the single belief that I needed to.

Was this the universe telling me that I was meant to run into her after all? That I needed to meet the woman with an oceanic heart?

But when I finally got to where she was, she glided effortlessly past me, not paying any mind to my presence. Why would she though? To her, I was no one. To her, I was the faceless person. 

“Excuse me!” I bolted to the front counter after realizing I might’ve just missed my opportunity. The barista, stunned and concerned, furrowed her brows while she waited for my question. “Is that girl a regular here?”

“Valerie?” She pointed in her direction, to which I nodded rapidly. “Oh, yeah. She comes in here all the time. She works just across the street.” 

When I came to this coffee shop, it was simply by chance. It wasn’t even the closest cafe, but it was the one I chose to go to for some inexplicable reason. 

I’d like to think it was fate. I was meant to be here after all. Because right behind me stood the storefront of a building I had only briefly read about in Valerie’s file.

The Bones,  Art Gallery & Studio

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

PART 2 HERE!

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[taetaespeaches]

“To me, he’s everything.”

taehyung x reader (oc) genre: angst; fluff word count: 2.9K beta reader(s): @stayjimin​

a/n: Hi lovelies! Why did I decide to write sad Tae? To make us all suffer perhaps? This is about Tae going through some stuff and writing pieces of Blue & Grey (with the english lyrics bc this is early stages) and Peaches trying to provide him comfort. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

Waking up in the early morning, the sky was still dark making it difficult to see your surroundings. Grunting to yourself you lightly tossed underneath the comforter. Sighing, you reached out to feel the empty spot next to you, confirming your suspicions that your lover had left the bed sometime earlier in the night.

Sitting up, you focused your gaze on the dark shape of your dresser across the room as you listened closely for sounds outside the bedroom. Hearing none, you lifted yourself from the bed, a blanket in tow as you made your way out of the room.

The hallway was lit up from the glow of the living room light, and as you wrapped the blanket over your shoulders, your ears perked at the sound of Taehyung’s low timbre humming a mix of words and incoherent melody.

Stepping quietly across the floor, you listened intently to the few words you could understand. “I just wanna be happier,” rang in your ears, your heart pounding at the weight of the lyrics that came straight from your boyfriend’s mouth. Standing in the living room just feet away from where he sat on the floor, Taehyung took notice of you, his mouth opening in surprise.

“Did I wake you?” He asked, his eyes wide with guilt though you gently shook your head. “You sure?”

“Maybe your absence,” you smiled softly. He tried to return the expression, but it failed to meet his eyes. And that was the smile you’d been receiving for the past few weeks. His famous boxy grin, your favorite, was being flashed around much less in the recent days. “It’s like I can feel when you’re gone,” you told him quietly.

He didn’t respond, instead leaning back on his hands to support himself as he stared at your disheveled appearance. With a small head nod gesturing for you to go to him, you quickly and easily obliged.

You would have to be completely oblivious to not notice the man’s mood change in the past weeks; how he had more low days than high. It wasn’t the first time Tae had gone through something like this. He had a habit of pulling away and dealing with his emotions and thoughts in private, and you had learned over your several years of friendship to give him the space to work through it all before he would eventually come to you for help with whatever feelings remained.

But this bout seemed to hit him harder than in the past. And he hadn’t come to you yet.

Sitting next to him, you both stared into each other’s eyes, his darkened circles prominent on his golden skin.

“You look tired,” he noted, your eyebrows raising slightly. Sliding the banket of your shoulders, you draped it over yours and Taehyung’s laps.

“So do you,” you countered, the man’s lips curving upward just the tiniest bit as you tucked the blanket around his thighs. “Are you ever gonna share this track with me that’s been taking up so much of your time?” You questioned, playing up your jealousy of the subject of his attention.

“Are you feeling neglected, Peaches?” He teased, a glint flashing over his eyes for a quick moment that had your lungs exhaling in a brief relief.

“Of course not,” you smirked. “But like, I did wake up alone only to find you out here canoodling with this song again so,” you trailed off, Taehyung letting out a low chuckle, amused by your feigned bitterness for his newest creation.

“What was that?” He asked, your eyebrows raising in question. “Canood- what?”

“Canoodling,” you giggled lightly. He flashed you a look of confusion, a smile overtaking your features at how cute he appeared. “It means, like, cuddling,” you paused, “I think?” For the first time in a few days, Taehyung’s boxy smile overtook his face, meeting his eyes for just a brief moment. “Maybe that wasn’t the right word,” you thought aloud as Taehyung’s hand found yours, his fingers lightly squeezing yours.

Raising your hand to his lips, he left a sweet kiss to the back of it. “You’re the only one I want to canoodle with,” he assured you lightheartedly, you squinting at him skeptically.

“Well that’s just not true, I caught you cuddled up with Jungkook just last week,” you pointed out, Taehyung chuckling as he dropped his head so he looked down toward his lap. Watching him carefully, you admired the way his low laugh tumbled from his pretty lips. When he looked back toward you, his eyes widened.

“What?” He asked, taken aback by your intent stare.

Shaking your head, you turned your hand in his grasp to intertwine your fingers with his own. “What’s been going on, Dearest?” You asked him, your voice soft and quiet, gentle and concerned. He gave you a questioning expression, silently asking you to elaborate, though you both knew where the conversation was headed. “Why haven’t you been talking to me?”

The man stared at you for a moment, his eyes scanning your features, clocking the concern etched within them. Sighing, he shrugged.

“Are you ok?” You asked him, watching as he clenched his jaw, shrugging once more. “Oh, baby,” you whispered through a small pout, squeezing his hand as he took a deep breath, attempting to calm his emotions.

Leaning toward him, you wrapped your other arm around his head, holding him so his face was placed in the crook of your neck. When his body shook slightly, you let go of his hand to bring your arms around his body, cradling him against you.

Neither of you spoke for several minutes, instead simply embracing each other as you allowed Taehyung the space and comfort to feel his feelings. Eventually, he lifted his head from your neck, his face level with yours though he avoided your eyes. Lifting your hands to his face, you gently used your thumbs to wipe under his eyes before flattening your palms against his cheeks to dab the wetness from them.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t ask you sooner,” you told him, your voice soft but adamant, Taehyung’s eyes snapping to meet yours.

“Peaches, no,” he shook his head, though you cut him off with your own negation.

“No, I knew something was wrong, but I was just waiting for you to come to me,” you told him. “I should have talked to you sooner,” you insisted, one of your hands falling from his face to your lap, the other sliding down to his shoulder where you simply kept it, to show him you were there. You weren’t going anywhere.

Taking another deep breath in, Taehyung shook his head once more. Reaching for his phone, you watched as he tapped on the screen a few times before his low vocals resonated from the speaker, replaying the sounds you heard earlier that night.

The lyrics were a mix of random mumblings with stunning but sad lines of English that proved every suspicion you had of Taehyung being sad and lost.

“I’m sick and tired of everything, someone come save myself ‘cause I can’t take it anymore.”

He was crying out for help in this song; help from himself, his own mind. The man was begging for someone to come to his aid, just to lessen the pain.

“Every time I cry, every time I smile, can you look at me ‘cause I am blue and grey.”

As you watched him carefully, his gaze set on the phone in his hands as the soundwaves went up and down with his vocals, tears filled your eyes. Taehyung’s fans often took his quietness as a warning sign for how he was feeling. However, growing up alongside Taehyung, you’d witnessed the shift from an excitable young boy to a slightly less excitable grown man. You’d been there with him as his personality developed; matured.

No, his silence was never a warning sign for you. It could be quite comforting, actually. The warning sign was when his smile failed to meet his eyes. You’d seen it over the past days, weeks. Staring at him as the melody cut through the heavy air, all you could think was, why didn’t I help you, Dearest?

“I just wanna be happier, baby don’t you let me go.” The lyrics melted into sounds again before he sang melancholically, “Wish I could be stronger.” The recording cut, and Taehyung’s eyes stayed on the phone screen.

Squeezing his shoulder lightly, you dragged your hand toward the back of his neck so your fingers could sooth across his nape. “It’s beautiful,” you croaked, clearing your voice as Taehyung’s gaze shot up to meet yours, the emotion in your tone startling him. “It is,” you told him sincerely.

“Thank you,” he barely muttered, his eyes alert, his shoulders raised as if he was holding his breath.

“When you’re not ok, I’ll be your rock, you know,” you assured him, an exhale leaving his lips just before he wet them with a swipe of his tongue. “I should have addressed it sooner, but I know now,” you added with a small nod. “So lean on me.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” he resisted, though you could see in his eyes he desperately wanted the shoulder you were offering to him.

“Tae,” you breathed out with a small smile. “You’re too considerate for your own good, you know that?” Scoffing in response, he licked his lips once more. “You could never burden me. I’m your partner,” you whispered, your hand moving to cradle his jaw as you spoke to him.

With a sigh, his shoulders relaxed just as he leaned into your touch, resting his chin in your hand just slightly. You could feel the weight of it, and you were thankful for it.

“I just-” his lip trembled. “I have this great life,” he mumbled as his face contorted just the tiniest bit, tears brimming his eyelid but not yet falling. “I have this dream career, partner,” he nodded to you, “home life,” he glanced to the open room. “I have great friends, all these fans,” he shook his head as a tear slid down his cheek, collecting on the flesh of your thumb. “And yet, I’m still so fucking lost,” he sighed in frustration.

Instead of speaking, you moved your hand to gently swipe under his eyes with your thumb. “I don’t know, it’s just stupid,” he directed his gaze across the room, his stare intense though he wasn’t looking at anything in particular.

Shaking your head, you leaned into his line of vision, pulling his attention to you. “It’s not stupid, baby,” you spoke softly to him. “It’s human.”

“What kind of person feels this way when they have all these great things?” He questioned, making you pull your eyebrows together in a slight glare. “I’m sitting here with a woman who loves me and cares for me and I’m crying about feeling lonely and worthless,” he admitted in frustration. “I didn’t even want to tell you about all of this because I don’t want you thinking you’re not enough for me.”

“Tae, I’m not so naïve to think I can be the savior of all your days,” you locked your gaze on his as you spoke to him. “I know you love me, but I’m just a piece of your life, I’m one source of happiness,” you shrugged while shaking your head.

“You’re more than that,” he said sternly, frustrated by your downplayed importance in his life.

“I know that, and I hope I can lessen the pain and make things easier, but I’m never going to be able to make everything ok,” you explained to him. And that was the sad truth. No matter how much you loved him, you could never take his pain away. “That’s just not how things work.” Staring at each other, he gave you a small nod of understanding. “Coming to me with this isn’t going to make me feel insufficient or like I’m not part of your happiness,” you finished, Taehyung nodding as he pulled your hand from his face and held onto it tightly.

As you looked into his gaze, you could see further sadness swirling around his orbs. His irises were the same pretty brown, but the warmth was faded. The cold emotion in them made them appear like a desaturated version of themselves, appearing as an ashen grey.

“What else are you thinking?” You prodded, gently, but insistently.

Swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, he exhaled deeply, preparing to share more of the feelings he’d been keeping contained behind his stunning features.

“There’s a few things I know about myself,” he started, your attention fully on him as he opened his thoughts with the mysterious statement. “And that’s that I love you, I love my family, and I love being on stage with the guys in front of our fans. And this year I’ve seen how easily that part of me can be stripped away,” he nodded at his own words as your heart felt like it stilled. Because the stage was the one thing you couldn’t give him or assure him of its existence. “And it’s going to happen someday for good.”

You watched him thoughtfully as he explored his own thoughts, gathering them into words that he could speak, in hopes that you would understand.

“And I guess-” he shrugged. “Who’s left without that part of me?”

Without thinking over your response, you answered him with two words. “Kim Taehyung.” His eyes held your own as you cocked your head at him. “He’s left.”

“But who is he?” He asked, his fragile tone making him sound small.

Who is Kim Taehyung? You could fill book after book answering that question, as he was everything.

A small smile curved on your lips as you thought about who Kim Taehyung was to you. “I can’t tell you who he is to you,” you began, locking your eyes with his before you allowed your orbs to drag across his features, appreciating the man, drinking him in. “But to me, he’s everything.”

And at that simple statement, as you stared at your boyfriend’s lips, you noticed the way they just slightly quirked upward before he corrected the expression, remaining serious and self-doubting.

“You know the guy on stage is incredible,” you continued. “V is special and he’s amazing, but this guy right here,” you nodded to him, “sitting in his pajamas, expressing his fears and concerns,” you grinned. “He’s the most brilliant person I’ve ever known.” You watched as his jaw tightened, an obvious sign of the emotion that was bubbling within him.

“You glow, Taehyung. With and without V,” you told him sincerely, your voice becoming shaky as your own emotions made themselves present. “And I don’t mean to downplay that piece of you because he is you and he’s amazing and he’s helped you grow and become this incredible human being, but I just hope you know that with or without that part of yourself, you’re still a masterpiece,” you ranted, in a race to beat the incoming tears. “I hope you can look at yourself one day and see what I see. If only you could spend one day in my shoes and see yourself how I see you.”

The man’s body trembled as he brought a hand to his face, shielding it from you as he cried.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you shook your head, pulling his hand from his eyes. “Don’t hide from me.”

Taking a shaky breath, letting it out with a quiver of his pout, you smiled at him. “That boy who approached me on the street when we were kids wasn’t V. That was Kim Taehyung. The man who makes me toast with jam in the mornings isn’t V. That’s Kim Taehyung. The friend who’s been my shoulder to lean on and cry on all these years, the lover who supports me and believes in me, that’s all Kim Taehyung.”

With tears trickling down your face, mimicking Taehyung’s own emotions, you giggled at the pout on his lips that made him look like a younger version of himself.

“What?” He questioned, a small smile spreading on his lips, almost rectangular but not quite.

“You look like you’re seventeen,” you grinned, sitting up on your knees and inching towards him so you hovered above him, Taehyung’s youthful, tearful gaze looking up at you.

“I can’t fix this, and I can’t make you feel complete, and I can’t take away your concern for the future,” you told him with a small frown. “But I can be here to hold your hand and assure you that you’re going to be ok, whether you believe it right now or not. It’s ok to feel this way, I just don’t want you to feel like you have no one if you’re not on a stage,” you leaned toward him, pushing his dark wavy fringe out of his face to leave a sweet kiss to his forehead. Wrapping your arms around his head, you held his face against your chest as you left another kiss to his hair.

“You have people who love you, but most importantly, you have Kim Taehyung. And he’s my favorite person,” you smiled as you mumbled against his hair. The man hugged around your waist, holding you even closer to him. “I think you’re going to learn to love him,” you whispered through your grin. “He’s pretty fucking lovable.”