#i should’ve said nothing ever changes (like as a whole) because everything is YOUR fault

[uzumakiheart]

it’s so sad and disgusting how a good majority of people don’t stand for anything and think everything that happens to a person is their fault. like if you got abused that’s on you for not standing up to your abuser. if you become a victim of police brutality that’s your fault for not complying. if you’re poor that’s on you for not choosing a better job. if you’re a woman and you become a victim of male violence that’s on you for not recognizing the signs. if your boss is abusive well it’s on you for not quitting. like fuck.. nothing ever changes and everything is your fault. how can people live like that

[seeeuspaceecowboyyy]

Only Human

Miguel O'Hara x Female Y/N reader (emotional hurt/comfort fic) Wordcount: 2.6k Warnings: brief mentions of blood, loved ones dying, nightmares, crying. Also, Y/N speaks Spanish. Notes: Y'all I need my hurt/comfort Miguel fics so bad that I finally wrote one myself. This might turn into a two-part story? Starts out platonic but that could change if I end up writing more?? Lmk what you think.

Miguel startled awake when his head hit the floor with a thud. Raw panic was clawing through his chest. He scrambled to sit up, confused and disoriented. Where am I? 

He stared at the walls of the hotel living room, struggling to put the pieces together. Slowly memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. He was on Earth 267. He was in the middle of conducting a covert recon mission with you, Y/N, to gather intel on an inter-dimensional crime syndicate that was buying, selling, and experimenting on various anomalies. 

The two of you were staying the night in a hotel because there had been a malfunction with your watches. For some reason that neither of you could figure out, the watches had lost all contact with other dimensions once you came to Earth 267. You were unable to open up a portal or even talk to Lyla. The only good thing about this whole situation was that you and Miguel were still able to talk with each other through the watches and so far neither of you had started glitching. 

Miguel had insisted you take the bedroom despite your protests. You’d argued that he should let you take the couch because of how much bigger he was than you, but he wouldn’t hear it. He’d said he really didn’t mind and wanted you to feel comfortable, but he’d also insisted on this sleeping arrangement for another reason - the nightmares. 

Miguel let himself fall back against the sofa with a shaky sigh. There were no explosions, no threats, no one was dying. And yet the images of his teammates collapsed on the floor, pale and bleeding would not leave his mind. 

It wasn’t real, he tried to tell himself. Just a nightmare. Everyone is okay. 

But what if…? The horrible question flashed before his mind, ugly and unwelcome. What if something happened to any of you while out on a mission that he had assigned you? What if you got hurt during your mission tomorrow and he wasn’t fast enough to save you? What if Peter really did get caught in an explosion one day? What if Miles or Gwen or Pavitir or any of the other younger spiders got crushed under a falling building? What if - and the list went on. 

So many things could go wrong in an instant and there was nothing Miguel could do about it. He knew there would always be risks in this line of work, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was to blame if anything ever happened to his teammates. 

The disturbing image of you and your crumpled, lifeless body flashed through his mind again and he recoiled. 

Your fault. All your fault, the voice in his head whispered. 

“No” he mumbled, shaking his head, eyes screwed shut as he tried to banish the thought from his mind. 

You failed again. You should’ve been faster. You should have seen it coming. You should have known. It was your fault. 

Miguel stood up. Waves of anxious guilt were spreading through him like a tsunami. He walked to the bathroom, desperate for a distraction. As he turned on the faucet to wash his face, he sensed subtle movements behind him in the dark. Miguel whipped around, claws shooting outwards before he even had time to think. 

“Oh”, he breathed, coming to a screeching halt. 

You were stuck to the ceiling, having barely leaped out of the way in time to avoid Miguel’s razor-like claws. Your long hair hung downwards from your face as you cocked your head to the side, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Sorry”, you whispered. “I thought I heard a noise and came to check if everything was alright”. 

Miguel lowered his arms, claws retracting. Embarrassment burned in his cheeks. 

“No, I’m sorry”, he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to attack you like that. I was just having a hard time sleeping is all. You can go back to bed”. 

You landed lightly on your feet, still watching him. You were wearing a light camisole and cozy pajama pants. You rubbed your eyes. 

“Why were you having trouble sleeping?” you asked, yawning while stretching. “Are you not feeling good?”

“It’s nothing” he muttered, feeling even more self conscious by the concerned look on your face. Great now I’ve gone and scared her, he thought. “I’m fine. Just a bad dream, that’s all”. 

You stood there still staring at him with searching eyes. What on earth is she thinking? he wondered. Does she think I’m a psycho for lashing out at her like that? Great. The awkwardness of the situation was getting to be too much for him. 

“I’m really sorry I woke you Y/N. You don’t have to worry about me. Please, go back to sleep” he said, voice sounding a little gruffer than he meant it to be. “You’ve had a long day”. 

He waited for you to go back to your room. You didn’t move. 

Maybe it was because you were still kind of out of it with sleepiness, or maybe it was just the look on his face that made you do it. Instead, without really thinking about it, you took him by the hand and led him to the living room. 

“What are you-“

“Shh”, you replied, guiding him over to the couch and gesturing for him to sit. He looked down at you, hesitant. 

“Miguel”, you sighed, giving him a slightly exasperated look. “Sientete”. 

He did. 

You smiled gently and then turned to the kitchen. It was a small one - just a stretch of countertop with a stove, microwave, and a few cabinets above. “I’ll be right back”, you told him as you headed towards your room to grab your bag. When you returned, Miguel saw you were holding a small box of teabags. 

“My mom always made tea for me as a kid whenever I had nightmares”, you explained in response to his raised eyebrows. “It always helped calm my nerves”. 

You set about your task of heating the water, feeling his eyes on your back all the while. For some reason it made the hairs on the back of your neck tingle, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

While waiting for the water to heat up, you came back to sit with Miguel who was hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. It was the first time that you really noticed what he was wearing - a black T-shirt and some faded, navy blue sweatpants. It was so different from how you usually saw him in his sharp, bright colored, holographic suit. He seemed less formidable - softer somehow, though you knew that was far from the case. 

“What’s going on Miguel?” you started tentatively, watching him as he gazed at the floor. You noticed his fists clawing into the fabric of his pants. “You seem a bit off”. 

Miguel wouldn’t look at you. Couldn’t look at you. What would he even say? Hey Y/N I know we’ve never really talked much and I’m supposed to be your boss, but I’m terrified that one day you’ll die and it will have been my fault and every night I have nightmares about my friends dying.

He internally rolled his eyes at himself. Shock, why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just pull himself together? He was supposed to be the leader, the one who always knew what to do, the guy everyone could count on to get the job done. He wanted to be someone you could always depend on, but here he was waking you up in the middle of the night and having you try to comfort him from a stupid nightmare. 

Miguel chuckled humorously at the whole situation. You glanced curiously at him. 

“What?” your eyes narrowed. “What are you laughing about?”  

“Nothing”, he lied. “I was just thinking how this is the first time anyone’s ever made me tea”. 

“Really?” This is stunning to you. “In my universe that’s all anyone ever does when something happens. You buy a house? We make tea. You win the lottery? We make tea. You lose your car keys? We make tea. You have a bad dream?-“ You look pointedly at Miguel before continuing. “We make tea”.  

He smiles a little at your rather obvious attempt to bring the conversation back to his nightmare. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk about it, it’s just… he’d never talked about his dreams with anyone before, not even Peter. Ever since the tragedy with Gabriella had happened, he’d noticed everyone trying to give him space. No one would approach him about it because they didn’t know what to say, and honestly … he didn’t know what he wanted them to say either.

But here you were, so much care and concern in your eyes, your tone, and your gestures. You radiated comfort and he craved it. It was hard to resist. The walls Miguel constantly surrounded himself with felt weak. Maybe he could be open with you, just a little bit. 

“Hold on, let me grab your tea”. You hopped off the couch and brought out two mugs. When you returned you handed one to him and settled into your corner of the couch, sipping and waiting patiently for Miguel to start. 

“Ha, thank you”, he said, staring at the white mug that looked ridiculously tiny in his massive hands. Warmth seeped into his palms and he unconsciously began to settle a little as well. He rocked back, leaning into the sofa. Okay, he thought. He would try to open up. 

“You know”, he sighed, “there used to be a time when I thought I was invincible. Anything I wanted to do, I could do it. I was smart, I was strong, and I had everything I needed”. He took a sip, trying to formulate his next words. 

“But I was selfish and I got …. greedy you could say. I’m sure you’ve heard from the others about the ah…’incident’ I had a while back”, he said, glancing at you. You nodded silently. No one ever talked about it in Miguel’s presence, but you’d heard the rumors. A dimension crumbling into oblivion. The loss of a beloved daughter. 

Miguel swallowed hard, feeling an uncomfortable lump in his throat. “Ever since then”, he grunted, trying to clear his throat, “I’ve been….so……” His voice broke off. He turned away, surprised by the tears suddenly forming in his eyes. Shock I’m a mess, he thought. 

You leaned forward, scooting a little closer to him, sensing his discomfort but unsure of how to help. 

“So what?” you whispered softly. Tenderly. 

He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. Something was cracking inside him. Not the time to fall apart, he told himself. He could feel you next to him, hovering hesitantly by his side. He needed to be strong, for you at least if not for himself. But shock he could not get the words out. 

“Miguel”. You reached over to move his mug out of the way and then took his hand in your own. “You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. It’s okay, honestly”. You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “But I’m here for you okay? We all have our struggles. You’re not anymore messed up than I am”. 

His mouth was set in a hard line, jaw clenched in agony as he tried to keep the waves of grief at bay. 

“I know it’s hard”, you continued gently, “but the best way to get through it is to share it with others. Let other people help you carry the burden. No one’s meant to go through these kinds of things alone”. 

Miguel nodded briefly. You squeezed his hand again and this time he returned it. Tears blurred in his eyes and streamed down his face. He couldn’t stop it. The lump in his throat was choking him, forcing him to take a breath. When he let himself breathe the sobs finally came out. First one, then another, and then what felt like a million more. 

“Oh”, you breathed, heart breaking at the sight. Instinct took over any previous reservations or awkwardness you’d felt before and you did the only thing that felt right - you got up, wrapped your arms around his big shoulders and held on tightly. He was hurting so badly. You could feel his shoulders shake with grief as he strained to quiet his sobs, putting a hand over his mouth. You just rubbed his shoulders and back, trying to soothe him as much as possible. 

“It’s okay”, you repeated over and over again. “Todo esta bien”. 

You kept holding onto him, squeezing his shoulders every so often as an offer of comfort while he fought to regain control of himself. After a while, he rubbed his eyes with exhaustion as his breathing began to relax. He could finally catch his breath again. 

“Ugh”, he groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Wow, that was ….” He didn’t even know what to say. Pathetic? Pitiful? Mortifying? Although he had to admit he did feel better. Lighter somehow. The chokehold weight that had gripped him for months on end was gone. 

“Human”, you answered. He looked up at you, speechless. What?

“It was human, Miguel”, you repeated. “You may be Spiderman, but you’re still human and it’s human to feel pain. To grieve”. You spoke like you knew it for yourself and you did. You’d lost your own loved ones. You’d grappled with fear of the future and regrets of the past. The only way you’d been able to keep moving forward was by sharing your burdens with others. 

“In my dream”, Miguel started, “I lost everyone I cared about. My family, my friends, my teammates, you…” He closed his eyes in anguish. “I wasn’t fast enough. I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t… enough. It nearly killed me to see everyone like that, just completely….gone”. He took a big breath. “I felt so alone”. 

You squeezed his hand again and he squeezed back, hoping you could feel how much he appreciated your comfort. 

“I’m so sorry Miguel”, you whispered sympathetically. “That must have been so hard to experience all that. But just know that I’m here. I’m right here and I’ll be here as long as you need me. I know it’s hard not to worry about but it doesn’t get us anywhere right? The only thing we can do is try to live as best we can right now. Okay? Me oyes?”

Miguel nodded, the smallest hint of a smile forming in the corners of his lips. It reminded him of his mother when you talked like that. 

“Do you want to sleep in the same room tonight? We could bring the mattress out here or…” you looked questioningly at him, rubbing your eyes as a spell of sleepiness started to settle over you. Now this made him smile, albeit a shy one. 

“Sure…if you honestly don’t mind”, he said, feeling a bit better about the night. It would be nice to not have to sleep alone with his thoughts for once. 

“Of course not”, you yawned, getting up to go grab it. Together you were able to maneuver the mattress into the middle of the living room floor. “Sure you don’t wanna switch?” you asked with another yawn once everything had been arranged. 

“I’m sure”, Miguel chuckled as he watched you practically collapse onto the mattress with exhaustion. “Sleep well Y/N…. and thank you. For everything”. 

“Ya sabes”, you mumbled, already sinking comfortably into your pillow. Miguel waited until he could hear the rhythmic sound of your sleeping breaths before he lay himself down on the couch. 

With the new, light feeling in his chest and the steady lull of your breathing just a few feet away, Miguel let his eyes close and slipped into a peaceful slumber.

[ashdreams2023]

hello, I wanted to ask you if you could write something like: you had a fight with Loki and you run to the bathroom to hurt yourself, Loki didn't know about your problem with self-harm, but after a while he opens the door wide and finds you on the floor covered in bleeds and cuts and then comforts and comforts you. something like that. If you don't want to do it because the topic bothers you, don't worry. thanks anyway

Always something wrong

TW: SELF HARM (CUTTING)

Loki x reader

You were quite, the whole ride home, everyone was laughing or too drunk to realize what was going on around them.

Loki kept his arms crossed over his chest and said nothing to you as well, you knew he had something to say but waiting until you both get some privacy.

And you were right, the second he closed the door behind him he turned around and frowned at you.

"Why are you so…like this? I thought you’ll be happy to finally get out the tower for a change, to have some fun! What’s wrong now? What is it in your mind that made you like this tonight"

"I thought we were gonna go alone…."

"Are you serious right now? You know I can’t take you out without their supervision, be understanding at least"

"But you promised it would be special, I thought tonight would be about us, for once just us alone and you just spent it drinking and laughing with your brother and the others!"

"You have no idea how much I put up with for you! Don’t start acting ungrateful!"

He thought you were ungrateful, that was your breaking point, you’ve been civil and quiet the entire night, now he says this to you.

Maybe you are the problem, maybe this is just all a big mistake and you’re making yourself a fool for something that’s too far for yourself.

You dropped your arms and stormed to the bathroom, you covered your ears and locked the door behind you.

This was your fault, why couldn’t you do anything right?

Loki hates you now.

And you couldn’t even blame him, you’re always ruining everything.

His screams were loud from the outside but you ignored, your tears blinding your vision as you reached for under the sink where you hid the small razor blade box.

You fumbled and opened it with hurry and shaky hands, the first line was always the hardest then the others came by like a flash.

The feeling of the sharp metal slicing your delicate skin, the blood gushed on your arm like a river, your legs gave up and you couldn’t stop until your wrists were covered in red.

You don’t know how long you sat there in the blood of your own blood but it was long enough that the pain felt numb, your vision was going on and off.

And when you were about to finally faint the door broke open, you could see his dark boots running up to you, feel his strong arms warping themselves at you but you couldn’t look him in the face, you just couldn’t, you felt ashamed, embarrassed and distraught.

"By everything you ever loved why did you do this to yours?!" His voice sounded so scared, you’ve never heard him this scared before.

He carried you out the bloody bathroom and laid you on the clean sheets.

He placed his hands above you, they glowed green and his magic took over, healing your wounds like they were nothing, closing every line and making your skin look completely untouched.

You sniffed closing your eyes, he wasn’t supposed to find out "I’m so sorry I-"

"How long?"

You bit down your lip and turned your head away on the pillow "I don’t know…too long"

"Why didn’t you tell me?" He grabbed your hand and held it against his chest, his heart was raging.

You felt speechless, defeated and drained.

"What have I done…I should’ve noticed-"

"No! I always ruin everything, I’m the worst! I’m-"

He shut you up by climbing on top of you and pressing his forehead against yours, his green eyes stared intensely into yours.

"Do not ever disrespect yourself like that in front of me ever again! You are perfect and I would trade the world for your smile, just…I am a good for not seeing it, for not paying attention….please, please tell me you’re trying to stop this" oh how weak you were for those big green eyes.

You nodded.

"I just want you to be ok, can you try for me, really try?"

"….but I’m scared"

"I’ll be here, as long as I breath you have nothing to fear"

Your breath hitched at his words, with blood no more gushing all over your body, he held you, laid your head on his chest when he laid down.

He held you like the most precious, fragile thing in the world, or in other words, his world.

[noshade-mook]

My Fault

Years went by & I realized it was my fault.. always was & always will be my fault. I probably always realized it was but never put 2 2 together. I was selfish & careless about your feelings & should’ve took it to consideration. I fell in love with my soulmate when I was 18, and I blame her for everything knowing it was my fault. Me looking back at all the shit I did was embarrassing but it was all my fault. I could be a Man today & tell you back then I really didn’t deserved you. I only cared about myself & wanted to crash out with the devil in the streets. I always thought you never loved me but you really did, I never seen the signs… Almost 10 years later we still talk.. we still hang out, we still laugh & we still vibe.. just like you said we had to live separate lives for a bit to realize we needed each other in the long run. It’s crazy how I’m still obsessed with you, anything you need I’ll give it to you in a heartbeat. I know money doesn’t impress you or anything, but all the shit I put you thru doesn’t have a price if that makes sense? I stayed single for years & told every female that came in my way I was taken.. she just ain’t mine right now, because she is doing her own thang but when she done she knows I’ll be waiting. I was waiting for so long I got tired of being alone, I forgot how to love how to do little things. I’m only in a relationship now to coupe from the lost pain I had for you in years. Sometimes I wish I stayed single a little longer, stayed in my shell & waited for you because I always knew you was going to come back… I knew you was going to hit me up at both our lowest, both hug it out & kiss it & make up for lost time.. I sometimes wonder why am I still here & not married to you already? Till this day I still cry when I watch movies like Love & Basketball, Jason’s Lyric, Poetic Justice, Love Don’t Cost a Thing, True To The Game, any love movie I cry to & be like dam this was me & you Reina. It was always me & that’s sad. If I would’ve just hold all my emotions in then I would’ve married you so young because all I wanted in life was you. I love everything about you & it still hasn’t changed. I told my Mom about you.. I told my sisters about you. I told my homies I was posted on the blocc hitting licks with about you. You are my lifeline & if you die today I probably would kill myself. I’m still waiting on your move & say lets run away. And when you do I promise we will leave.. but that’s just fairy talk right? Lol I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore smh.. it’s crazy I called myself ColdHeartedMook because of you, I post nothing but blue hearts not red because you made me coldhearted. I use to say morning & not goodmorning but nothing was good about my mornings without you. I use to be mad at everyone & the world because my Pops was gone & you left me. But I understand now.. because it was always me & I’m sorry for putting you thru all that…. I always told myself after I’m 21 I don’t think I would ever ever get married. Because when I was 18, 19 I only seen one person as my Wife & who I was going to spend my whole life with.. and it was you Reina.. it was you, but it’s my fault it was always my fault it was always me. Now this friendship we have shouldn’t even be a friendship but it’s cool.. like you said Time Will Tell right? The famous line you always told me smh. It’s crazy too I told myself a longtime ago, I would stop writing & making music because you were my motivation when it came to it now look at me now writing my heart on my sleeve. Still waiting for you fuck up what I have so we can be what we dreamed about since we were kids. ❤️

-Mook

[maybankswhore]

kiss me goodbye ✿ jj maybank & rafe cameron.

summary : you and jj’s relationship had never been easy. growing up, you always felt like you loved him more than he loved you — and you were proven right when you confessed your feelings to him; only for him to say that he only saw you as a friend. it hurt for awhile, but then you met rafe and everything changed.

all jj wants before you leave, is the kiss he should’ve asked for years ago.

Rain punched the side of your face as you nervously walked up to the Château. It had been months since you had been back there since your relationship with Rafe was anything but accepted by the Pogue’s.

Your eyes flashed to the engagement ring suffocating your finger and you subconsciously folded your hands over eachother to hide it. You weren’t sure why you did it. They already knew the two of you were getting serious and you weren’t ashamed of Rafe in the slightest. But there was a knot in the middle of your stomach, and you couldn’t bring yourself to just show it off.

Rapping the door twice, you rocked on your heels anxiously. You heard loud footsteps and a small ‘hold on!’ from the other side, making you chuckle. It only took a couple seconds for the door to swing open to reveal a messy head of blonde hair.

You held in your breath as they fell on him. Chest bare and hair a mess. His necklace hanging down as he leaned against the frame for support— looking as though he could barely keep his eyes open. When he noticed you, he froze. Completely taken back by the surprise visit.

“Y/N/N?” His voice was barely a whisper as he looked at you in awe. Looking up and down as if you were a completely different person. “It’s been. . . How have you. . . I miss. . . Hey.” He sighed out.

“Hey.” You smiled slightly. “I’m sorry if this is a bad time. I can always come back later.”

“No!” JJ shook his head frantically. “No! Come in. Everyone’s out right now but uh, they’ll be back soon. I’m sure they’ll be excited to see you.”

Walking in felt like home. Nothing had changed. It was the same old Château you knew and loved. Your fingers grazed the walls before looking over at JJ who was still staring at you. “How have you been, J?”

“Alright.” He shrugged. His broad shoulder leant against the wall a couple inches from you, his eyes never leaving you. “You?”

“Good.” You answered back shortly.

Awkward silence filled the air. It seemed as though time did mean something in life— and it had just past the two of you by. You felt like strangers. Your heart began to hurt at the thought.

“I’m sorry.” JJ said after some time. “I’m sorry for. . . I’m sorry for everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” You frowned. “You weren’t expected to—” shaking your head at the sore subject, you cleared your throat. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” JJ huffed. “It’s like. I’ve known you my whole life but right now, you’re a total stranger to me.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked up to him and threw your arms around his shoulders. He was hesitant at first, before melting into the hug. It still felt the same. Warm. Secure. You inhaled his scent and smiled at the stale weed and cologne mix he had never grown out of smelling like.

His shoulders were tense at first. Familiarity washed over him, and slowly he relaxed. JJ couldn’t help his eyes from squishing shut as he held you back, harder now. His head burried in your shoulder for comfort.

“I’ve missed you.” JJ murmured.

“I missed you more.” You answered him, honestly. Your time apart from him hurt. It’s not that you weren’t happy with Rafe and every minute with him was bad. Because it was the exact opposite. But your inner child craved JJ more than you’d ever like to admit. He was your safe space— your home.

It felt like forever. Hugging eachother. Neither of you wanted to leave eachother’s warmth, but you knew you had to. You had come with a reason and it was important that you followed through.

Pulling away was hard, but you managed. You untangled your body from his and offered him a soft smile with a clenched heart at the vulnerability in JJ’s eyes.

“There is a reason I came though.” You breathed out, taking a step back.

JJ winced. “Yeah. I figured.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, tears welled up in your eyes. Looking at him brought a side out of you that had been pushed aside. Looking at him brought memories that you’d do anything to relive them again. With his soft blonde hair and innocent eyes, it hurt to see.

“Why’re you crying?” JJ asked softly. His heart raced so hard he heard it thumping in his ears. “What’s going on, Y/N/N? Is it that bad?”

“It might.” You whispered.

Taking in a long breath, you gave him a smile. “I love you more than anything, J. I always have and being away from you didn’t make me love you any less. No matter what, you are my person. That can never change.”

JJ’s hands twitched anxiously. “C’mon, Y/N.”

“I’m leaving.”

You spit out the words without even realizing you said them. JJ looked taken aback. His eyes widening to the point you thought they’d fall out. He stared at you, shocked. A mixture of hurt and worry creased his face and he shook his head. “You’re not— I mean, leaving? Like leaving where?”

“Here.” You looked down. The look on JJ’s face broke your heart. “Outer Banks. I’m leaving. And I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

JJ stood there silently as he processed his emotions. Anger and sadness coursing through him. “What the fuck? You’re leaving me? I mean. . . the Pogue’s? Does Rafe know you’re leaving? He won’t let you—” immediately he paused. The pieces connecting in his head as your own was lowered in shame. “You’re leaving together.”

“JJ. I know it seems like the end of the world but it’ll be okay, right? I mean there’s FaceTime and— and I’ll come visit after we get settled.” You reasoned, but he had already spun around angrily.

“So he takes you away from your friends. From your life and now he’s. . . he’s moving you away?” JJ gripped his hair in disbelief. “To where? Fucking Italy?”

“New York.” You muttered. “Because we have more opportunities there. For the life we want.”

JJ laughed dryly. “He’s taking you half away—” he chuckled. “What if he leaves you, huh? What if he just decides to toss you aside like he does every other girl in Outer Banks, Y/N?”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be so fucking sure?” JJ yelled.

“Because he asked me to marry him, idiot!” You blurted back, gasping as soon as you realized what you said. JJ stared at you as though you had slapped him across the face.

“You’re marrying him?”

“JJ—”

“Y/N. You can’t possibly be that stupid!”

“Stop—”

“You can’t really be considering marrying Rafe Cameron.”

“Why not?” You cried. “Why not, JJ? You didn’t want me remember? You’re the one that didn’t want me! I cried for weeks. WEEKS! And you didn’t come check up on me once.” You walked towards him with an accusing finger in the air. “He fixed the heart you broke.”

“What if it’s different now?” JJ shrugged, dead serious. “What if what I feel for you is different.”

You scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.” JJ shook his head. He strided towards you, gripping your cheeks in his hands as he forced you to look at him. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You pushed him away and shook your head frantically. “Shut up.”

“Why?” He pursed his lips, fighting back tears. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to settle.”

“I’m not settling.” You hissed. “I love him.”

This wasn’t how you planned things to go. You knew he’d be upset and wouldn’t want you to leave. But you hadn’t prepared for this.

“Then kiss me.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Kiss me and tell me you don’t love me anymore.” JJ begged. Cheeks flaming red. “Do that and I’ll let you go.” His mouth twisted unhappily. “I’ll set you free.”

“Kiss me goodbye.”

part two?

[devilyn]

leave a message at the tone | kuroo tetsurou

— alexa, play: stay by kid laroi ft. justin bieber

I do the same thing I told you that I never would I told you I'd change, even when I knew I never could I know that I can't find nobody else as good as you I need you to stay, need you to stay, hey

— synopsis: kuroo can't stop drinking, and only realizes what he cares about most when you're gone. — genre: angst, happy endings, sad kuroo — word count: 1.6k

He knew he shouldn’t have done this again. Drinking late at night and stumbling home in the dark. He knew you’d give him that look again. That same look you gave him each night you’d gently rub his back while he threw up, and each morning while begging him to stop going out so often.

He knew, but it was like he couldn’t control himself. He could escape daily life when he drank--pretend like he was satisfied with himself and didn’t have an ounce of responsibility. Yet, when he sobered up, you’d always be right there, laying in bed next to him and fast asleep. With your presence always came the overwhelming guilt of being a burden to you, and dragging you down with him.

As he kicked his shoes off, he heard you shuffling around on the couch. When he looked up, you were already standing in front of him and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. His vision blurred, and he couldn’t help but drunkenly smile at the sight of you.

“I’m leaving.”

It took his inebriated brain a few seconds to process your words, but when he did, his smile dropped instantly.

“What do you--”

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked you to stop this,” you cut off his slurred words. Now that he was looking closer, through his blurred vision, he could see the redness in your eyes and the familiar swelling in your lower lip where you bit down to try and suppress your cries.

“I’ve had enough, that’s all I can really say now,” you continued, voice shaky and hands trembling. Kuroo swayed a bit on his feet, still trying to process what was happening right in front of his eyes.

“Wait--” he struggled to grab your hands, fumbling a bit, even though you didn’t bother to resist. “Please, I’ll be better. I’ll--I’ll drink less often, I’ll come home earlier--”

“You say that all the time,” you told him calmly, “but nothing ever changes, does it?”

He was afraid. He’d rather you yell and scream at him, call him a piece of trash and abandon him fully. Tell him he ruined your life and you never wanted to see him again.

But you didn’t. You never would.

“I really loved you,” you said instead through tears, “I’m sorry.”

Loved. Loved. Loved...?

He stood still, unable to say anything more as you pulled your hands out of his own and flashed him a watery smile. You grabbed your packed suitcase that he didn’t even realize was sitting right by the door, and slipped past him.

Out of his apartment with you, and out of his life.

Kuroo couldn’t remember how the rest of the night went. When he woke up the next morning, he felt the familiar urge to vomit and quickly stumbled to the toilet.

A nightmare, he thought while washing his face after throwing up anything he might’ve consumed in the last 12 hours. It must’ve been a nightmare. He’d walk back to his bedroom, and you’d be lying there on your side of the bed, half awake and waiting for him to come back to sleep.

But when he trudged back to the bedroom, his heart sank to his feet when he saw it was empty.

He must not have noticed the night before--must’ve passed out before he could even register what had happened--but every semblance of you was gone. Your clothes, your familiar knick knacks, your favorite pillow, even polaroids and pictures you’d set up of you and him--they were all gone.

How cruel of you. You didn’t leave anything behind for him to remember you by.

His hand weakly smoothed over your side of the bed, where he remembered you were just yesterday morning. His head throbbed as he recalled the way you gently kissed his forehead while murmuring something about making him a cup of coffee.

Kuroo laid in bed for the rest of the day, eyes closed, and not bothering to drink water to soothe his dry throat or take any painkillers for the pounding in his head.

Maybe it was his way of repenting for his mistakes in your relationship. For hurting you, and for chasing you away because he couldn’t give up the numbness that came from alcohol.

Now, it seemed he didn’t need it anymore. The next day, when he monotonously went through the motions of going to his classes, eating lunch, completing his assignments, and studying for his exams, he no longer felt anything.

There was something missing inside of him. Something that left him feeling empty. His pen moved over the paper as he took notes, but something didn’t feel right. His fingers flew over the keys as he typed up a report for his professors, but something was off. His lips parted, and he chewed his food as he usually did, but something was different.

When he glanced at his phone for the first time later that night in his empty apartment just to check the time, he realized.

Tears pricked at his eyes at the sight of his lock screen. Your bright smile, right next to his own.

Maybe that was when it finally hit him. You were gone. You had left him.

Kuroo buried his face in his hands, the dinner he bought left abandoned on the dining room table as he sobbed into his palms.

You gave him what he wanted. That numbness he was chasing after was here to stay, because you took a piece of his heart with him when you left.

“I’m sorry--” he mumbled to your voicemail later that night, just hours before his next class would begin at 8am. “I should’ve listened to you. Running away from my problems really doesn’t help.”

He could picture you scolding him over lunch, telling him that drinking would only help him hide from his life for so long. Telling him you were there for him, and you could get through this together.

Together.

God, he wished so badly the two of you could be together right now.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he told your voicemail again the next night, “...for taking advantage of you being by my side, and not cherishing you while I could.”

Everyday was the same without you. Eat, study, sleep, eat, repeat. Sometimes, his eyes would instinctively search for you in places he knew you two used to frequent together. Sometimes, he’d see you sitting next to him at the dining table at home. You’d look up from your phone and smile at him, and when he blinked, you’d be gone.

“That night, you apologized,” he murmured over the phone on another night to someone he wasn’t even sure was listening. He lost track of how many messages he’d left you. “It was never your fault. I just want you to know that. You did...everything you could.”

A few weeks after you left, he finally spotted you on campus. Your back was to him, but he recognized you regardless. The sight of you for the first time in such a long time warmed his heart. For a second, Kuroo contemplated calling out to you.

But you quickly disappeared in the crowd of busy students who could care less about the brokenhearted man standing in the center of campus.

And he clutched at his chest.

“I stopped drinking,” he admitted quietly in another message while laying in bed, “I have you to thank for that. I know it’ll never make up for anything, and I know it won’t bring you back, but...I like to think you’d be proud of me.”

He threw out every half-empty bottle of vodka that he’d hidden from you a few nights after you left. Somehow, it felt good to let go of something he was dependent on for so long.

He hoped that even if you weren’t here with him, you’d hear his message and you’d be happy for him.

“I love you,” he finally confessed in what he told himself would be his last voicemail, “I know you said you loved me, but I--I still love you. I’m sorry...you won’t hear from me again. I’m sorry for everything.”

He was sleeping better now. Before, there were nights where he’d stay up the whole night imagining what life could be like if you had stayed by his side.

Now, he’d close his eyes, and tell himself you were happier without him.

“I’m coming over. I hope your schedule hasn’t changed.”

He never expected to get a text from you. He also never expected for you to actually show up with an expression filled with relief when he opened the door.

For a second, Kuroo just took you in. It felt like years since he last saw your face, but you looked as beautiful as ever. You still used the same body wash he had contemplated buying just to smell like you when you first left, and you still had that familiar habit of fumbling with your fingers when you were nervous.

“...hi,” he greeted you quietly, and you smiled softly up at him.

“Hey,” you responded, reaching up to gently cup his cheek.

He instinctively leaned into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your skin against his own as his eyes closed.

“You still love me?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Kuroo responded, eyes still closed, “I do.”

He heard you sigh, and he opened his eyes to see your weak smile as you took his hands into your own.

“...alright. Then let’s start over.”

He squeezed your hands, the coldness in his heart quickly washing away as tears started to well up in his eyes.

“...you’ll stay?” he asked tearfully as you reached up to gently wipe his tears away.

“I’ll stay.”

He wrapped his arms tight around you, his face buried in your hair as he cried.

Your hands gently rubbed his back, and quietly to himself, Kuroo hoped that you’d stay forever.

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. III

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

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

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

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)

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

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

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

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  ||  masterlist

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

How incredibly wrong that was. 

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

“Good. You?” 

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

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

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

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

Anything but you. 

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

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

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

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

Disappointment.

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

Typical. 

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

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

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

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

Your mother. 

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

“What do you mean?” 

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

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

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

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

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

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

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

An argument.

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me? Definition?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?” 

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

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

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

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

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

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

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

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

But this, this was where your mother won. 

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

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

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

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

“What did you say to me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not at something as undeserving as your mother. 

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

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

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

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

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.” 

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

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

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

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

It was too much, she was too much. 

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

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

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

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

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm. 

Taehyung. 

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

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

And it didn’t work. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung grimaced. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

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

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

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

They simply weren’t. 

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all. 

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

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

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

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

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

He knew nothing about you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until your last braincell kicked in. 

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

And you knew he knew.

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

It was fucking poetic. 

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

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

It was odd.

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

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

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

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

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

It couldn’t be real.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he still fucking hated it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-” 

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

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

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

Especially if it meant him.

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

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

And you really did like the way he smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

Did he just call you pretty? 

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

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

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

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

Those fucking eyes. 

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

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

And he suppressed a stupid grin. 

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

Cute, he thought.

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

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

He was just so beautiful.

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

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

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

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.” 

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

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

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

“Hm?” You looked up. 

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

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

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

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I bought one for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh shit, I have to go.” 

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

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

“Yes?” 

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

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

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

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label. 

Chanel. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was bordering 6:30 now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t stop blushing at all. 

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

“I’m in our room!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

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

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

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

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

Peonies. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And again, it sent shivers down your spine. 

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

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

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

It was probably better to stay silent. 

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

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

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

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

“Kiss her!” 

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

“Y/N, look at me.” 

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

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

And it damn well worked. 

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala. 

Huge. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He almost felt like the sun. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was refreshing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would you say? 

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

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

And he oddly felt.. nice.

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

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

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

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

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

Until Taehyung spoke. 

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

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

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

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

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

And it only made the men crack up even harder. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why is he here?” 

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, who?” 

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

Something was seriously wrong. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, so she talks.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tae-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, we’re coming.” 

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

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

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

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

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

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

He said they were nice. 

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

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

And you already felt doomed. 

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

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

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

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

“..Yes.” You answered confused.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What exactly are you trying to get at?” 

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

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

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

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

With a snarky last word. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said nothing.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing, Taehyung.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, too long!” 

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

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

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

“Actually, I didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“People are watching?” You inquired.

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

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

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

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

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

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks. 

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

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

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

“You called me Tae, you know.” 

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  ||  masterlist

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

[yourtamaki]

the broken melody of us

matsukawa x f!reader

word count: 4k

request: mattsun hurt/comfort + neglect?

warnings: hurt/comfort, neglect, body worship, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

it was a song and dance at this point. a well rehearsed play with a blinding spotlight on the exhausted actors onstage. both of you go through the motions, no life behind the words you’ve spoken so many times they held no meaning anymore. you don’t know why you keep up the charade. you never expect a different result yet still you pick up the phone everyday and call your boyfriend. 

“you think you’ll be home in time for dinner?” 

sometimes you get a different, automated message. “maybe. might have to stay late,” or “can’t, i’ve gotta finish something up,” or your least favourite. a simple, clipped, “no.” 

“don’t stay out too late.” you should cut this part from the script, he never listens. 

“i’ll try.” 

“i love you.” this line is always to be spoken quietly, followed by holding your breath while you wait for his response. it’s the only reason you make these calls. this is your only chance to hear him say it and pretend he means it as much as he once did.

“love you too.” the line goes dead, the lights dim and he’s gone. you’re alone on an empty stage staring out at a bored audience. bored of the foolish protagonist who keeps them locked in the theatre, playing the same ending over and over and expecting something to give, to change. they watch on, silent and judging while you barter away what little dignity you have left. 

let them watch. 

the rejection doesn’t sting as badly as it used to. you’ve learned to bear it, swallow down the hurt that sits like a stone in your gut and go about your day, filling it with any meaningless errand that would stop your mind from wandering back to him. 

mattsun was subtle, you could give him that much. the way he slowly pulled away from your arms until you could hardly remember how he felt beneath your palms. the realization that you don’t really know your boyfriend anymore was slow to hit you but it knocked the air out of your lungs when it did. it crashed down on you when you woke in the middle of the night and turned to stare at his back gently rising and falling with every breath. his hair is longer then you remember and you don’t know why the thought has a lump forming in your throat. you focus instead on the broad expanse of his back. he’s tense, even in sleep, shoulders rigid and you’re sure if you could see his face, his brows would be furrowed. subtle changes that are enough for you to realize you’ve been shut out of his life.

you used to know him. when you were university kids who thought the future would never catch up to them and spent countless days in each other’s company. it wasn’t so much you knew him, it felt like you were him. and he was you. less attached to the hip and more intertwined with one another. you two were of one mind, to the point where you knew what the other needed before they’d even say it. 

your mattsun who was always just a text away. 

your mattsun who would indulge your late night drives, who would look at you with a permanent crooked smile on his face and love in his eyes. 

“you think we’ll always be like this?” you said one night, straddling him in panties and a baggy hoodie in the backseat and lazily kissing beneath the stars. and because he was yours and understood every little anxious thought that crossed your mind, he didn’t question why you were asking, didn’t make you explain what you meant, didn’t try to make a half assed joke about it. 

his hands trailed up your sides as he contemplated his answer, sending shivers up your spine. “probably not. things always change. we’ll change with them.” 

“what if things get worse?” 

“they might. but what if they get better? just cause it’s different doesn’t mean it's scary, angel.” 

“i know. but i hate thinking about it cause things are so good right now. i want it to last forever.” 

“we got time. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he gripped your hips, slowly grinding you against his growing bulge and pulling you back into a kiss, sighing as your lips slotted together. you took control of the pace and grinned against him when a groan spilled into your mouth. 

“is that your way of saying we should hurry up and fuck?” 

“it’s working, isn’t it?” before you could pull your sweater up over your head, he cupped your face and brought your forehead to his, sincerity shining through his dark eyes. “i’ll always love you. that’ll never change. got it?”

“got it.” you managed to push the words out despite the lump that formed in your throat. he kept his eyes locked on yours as he slid your panties to the side and sank inside you, the familiar stretch a welcome one. 

it was nothing special, one night of many spent panting into each other’s mouths with an unspoken promise still hanging from your lips. but it was a memory you circled back to often, so often you could hear the echo of his vow ring through your head. 

your fears came to pass not long after that. life caught up and tore him from you, leaving you a shattered mess in the aftermath. you tried to fit jagged pieces of yourself back together in an attempt to remake the person you used to be but what stared back at you only left you keenly aware of the empty space he used to reside. 

these days, you like going to the roof of your apartment and letting the wind blow through those countless gaps in your soul. you feel whole for a short while as it whistles through you, the air filled with the broken melody of you, of the relationship that slips past your grasp more everyday. it’s shrill and ear piercing and leaves goosebumps littered on your skin. 

you can’t stop listening to it. 

it’s where you were now, staring out as the sun dipped below the horizon and listening to the haunting sound that’s been your only company in recent memory. later, you’ll go home and crawl into bed desperate for any warmth and no time to miss the heat of a body next to yours. your phone lights up bright in contrast to the darkening sky and it takes you a few moments of staring blankly at the screen for it to sink in that mattsun is trying to call you. 

this isn’t part of the script. 

you don’t know your lines. 

and yet you find yourself answering anyway, hitting the green button before the call drops and you raise your phone to your ear silently. 

“are you okay?” his voice comes out rushed and strung together almost before your phone is pressed to your ear. 

“why’re you asking?” 

“remember that time you failed that essay? i think it was third year and you hid in your room all day and wouldn’t answer the phone?” you did remember. how you couldn’t bear to face the world that day with the crushing weight of failure hanging over you and how shocked you were to see mattsun standing at the front door. “did i ever tell you why i checked up on you?” 

“no.” 

“the whole day i felt, in my gut, like i needed to see you. i can’t describe it, it was like a stab that just dug deeper until i went to your place. would you believe me if i said i have that feeling right now?” 

“i- i would.” you say quietly, wondering if he could even hear you over the roar of the wind. 

“are you okay?” he repeats. there’s a weight behind his words that has tears springing to your eyes. 

“no, issei ‘m not.” 

“i’m almost home, i’m parking right now. i’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? wait for me, angel.” 

you were always waiting for him, weren’t you? what's a couple more minutes? you hang up and try in vain push down the wave of anxiousness that hits you. it’s just mattsun, you try to remind yourself. even if it’s been awhile since you’ve really felt like a part of his life, he’s still the person you fell in love with. right?

even if the issei from the past would never have made you feel so alone. the issei that was free from the hardships of real life, of 9-5s and bills due and rent to pay. you miss that issei, mourn for him on empty rooftops everyday. maybe he’s still alive somewhere within this new issei but it’s not like you would know. 

you head off the roof, shivering slightly as you make your way home. the days were only getting colder, you should’ve known not to stay out for so long. you were trying to get your shaky hands to cooperate and unlock the door when you hear the elevator dings open and your name being called out. 

“you weren’t home?” he asks, gently prying your keys from your grasp and opening the door for you both. as soon as he locks it behind you, his hands are covering yours once more. “baby you’re freezing.” 

words. where were your words? you couldn’t call up any as he brought your joined hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them and rubbing them between his to warm them up. this is the closest you’ve been to him in who knows how long and you couldn’t summon up a single sentence. it’s not your fault. his attention has always stunned you into silence. 

he thought you were painfully shy the first time you met and though that was half true, you mostly found yourself silently panicking about the handsome man that suddenly sat beside you. the professor had paired the class off to discuss the readings for that lecture and your interest had only come to life when you saw the dark haired man make his way to you. 

“i’m gonna be honest.” he said as he plopped down beside you and showed you the blank document open on his laptop. “i have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing right now. do you?” 

it was his eyes, you decided much later, hugging your pillow and staring at the text you just received from a new number. you came alive under his gaze like you could finally catch your breath, everything dull until his eyes landed on you. you don’t believe in love at first sight, this was something different. it was the dust of collapsing stars finding each other once more. it was strings of fate being braided together. it was more profound, more important than love and it all happened in a moment. 

you nodded in response to his earlier question though it was clear neither of you were paying any attention to what was going on in class, too caught up in the small bubble that surrounded you and drowned out the rest of the world. 

“matsukawa. i’m- my name’s matsukawa.” you must’ve given your name in return judging by the smile he gave you in return. “so what’re we doing, partner?”

this time, you forced a proper response, intensely aware of how you held yourself in a way you’ve never been before. “yeah, she just wants us to talk about today’s reading.” 

matsukawa watched you pull up your notes, resting his head in his hand while you began explaining the general concepts. you paused when you noticed he was still looking at you and not at the notes you had angled towards him. 

“am i explaining it okay?” 

“we’re a month into the semester, how have i not noticed you before?” 

“guess you don’t notice something you’re not looking for.” 

just then the professor grabbed everyone’s attention, the student’s quietly migrating back to their seats but matsukawa stayed where he was. instead, you could just hear him speak under his breath, more to himself then to you but you still managed to pick it up, your face going hot as it echoed in your head. “trust me, i’m looking now.” 

the memory leaves you more vulnerable than you expected, soft in his arms as the numbness finally fades and the shaking stops.

“where were you?” he says.

“the roof.” his brows furrow, lips pulled down in a frown. it’s strange feeling yourself falling back into reading him so easily, not needing him to ask to know he wanted you to explain why. “i like going up there. this place is too quiet with just me in it.” 

the longer you watch him, the more you pick up from his body language. the confusion then understanding that flits across his face, the underlying care you’re so familiar with as he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. but more than anything you start to see his guilt. his muscles are rigid with it, it swims in his eyes that never quite seem to meet yours. 

“i’ve fucked up, haven't i?” he finally says when he realizes you won’t be the one to breach the subject. 

“issei…”

“no, i have. things have been so endless, i feel like i’m half awake and i’ve hurt you because of it.” 

you squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “just talk to me. please.” 

“i hate it. work is nonstop, everyday is the same shit over and over. it’s just a wave that keeps knocking me down and i can barely get my footing before it pushes me down again. and every day i think about quitting just to get ready the next morning. 

“if i was alone, if… if i didn’t have you i would’ve quit so long ago but i want to give you the life you deserve and i can’t do that if i’m broke. and it all might be for nothing cause i might’ve lost you already.” 

the confession ends with mattsun clearing his throat, blinking fast and concentrating solely on your laced hands. you can’t seem to catch your breath, struggling under the weight he had carried silently until now as he finally shares the burden with you. 

“you haven’t lost me, issei. look at me.” you wait until his eyes meet yours before dropping your voice to a whisper. “you haven’t lost me.”

“i don’t deserve you.” 

“it’s not about deserving, i chose you. i chose to love you, i chose to stay when things got bad. yeah, you hurt me.” it’s impossible to miss the full body flinch at your words, “and i’m not ready to forgive you just yet. but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on us. i don’t want you working yourself to death for me. i don’t care where we live or how much money you spend on me. i don’t need all of that, i just need you. got it?” 

“got it.” you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows down whatever feeling overcomes him, “i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“tell me what you need, please. i need- i need to make this right.” 

you answer by leaning forward and mattsun meets you halfway. the kiss is soft in contrast to the way you bundle the front of his shirt in your fists, afraid the moment might end before it’s even begun but mattsun takes his time cherishing you. there’s regret and gratitude and love that dances across your tongue and the taste has pressure building behind your eyes. 

it isn’t enough. you need him closer, need him to line the cracks of your soul with his touch. you pull just far back enough to break the kiss and mumble against his lips, “more, ‘sei please. i’m so cold.” 

“anything you want, pretty baby. let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

his lips crash back down on yours with renewed eagerness. there’s a desperation that wasn’t there a moment ago fuelling you both and urging you to stumble blind into the bedroom, barely letting your mouths detach as you fumble and undress each other. 

it’s not until you’re naked before him that your head clears a bit and shyness comes creeping in. he cups your face as though he could sense you curling into yourself and simply says, “beautiful.” 

the utter conviction in his voice is enough to dispel any insecurities before they have a chance to latch on and you turn your head to kiss the center of his palm, silently telling him you were all right. together you land in a tangled heap in bed, his half hard cock resting on your thigh. mattsun kisses his way down your neck, licking and sucking at every sensitive spot he had mapped out over the years. 

“issei…” you say, impatience tinging your voice as you feel your core throb with need. 

“i’ll get you there, angel, you know i will. let me take my time, i missed you.” 

true to his word, he began kissing every inch of skin he could reach. your tits, your stomach, your thighs all the way down to your ankles, he made sure to shower with affection. it’s nearly overwhelming. you knew you were starved for his attention but it feels like something breaks loose inside you the longer his mouth trails over your body, whispering declarations into your skin that left you tingling in his wake. by the time his fingers dip between your legs, your thighs are sticky with arousal, clit thrumming and begging to be touched. 

“look at my pretty baby’s pussy. all wet just for me?” 

“mhmm ‘s all for you, issei.” 

he hums, swirling his middle finger around your entrance and pressing the thick digit inside with ease. it’s only a few pumps later he adds another, stretching out your gummy walls. his other hand drifts over your mound, his thumb finally giving your clit some attention as his fingers graze over a spot inside you that has your hips rising off the bed. 

“stay still. you want to be my good girl, right?” the quiet authority that radiates from mattsun has you clenching around him, doing your best to do as he asks and keep your legs spread for him. “there you go. you’re taking me so well, baby. you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel it” 

mattsun loves showing off how well he knew your body, how it never took long for you to crumble beneath him. a few more idle circles with the pad of his thumb and your orgasm washes over you, rising gently and leaving you relaxed in its wake. 

that state didn’t last long as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at your clit that twitches against his tongue, still sensitive from your high. “issei! w-wait please give me a sec-” 

his glare is enough to cut through your babbling, his fingers never slowing in their strokes against that sweet spot. you let out a low moan as he adds yet another finger, the stretch just shy of uncomfortable but it’s quick to fade into pleasure once again. the flame in your gut is far more intense this time and you can’t stop the whimpers he pulls from you. you thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging on them and pulling him deeper into your folds.

“that’s it, princess. cum on my tongue and i’ll stuff you full, i promise. you can do it, c’mon baby.” 

the encouragement has the coil in your gut tightening once more and the lewd sounds of mattsun lapping up every drop that escapes you is enough to snap it. when the blood stops ringing in your ears, you realize he’s shifted your positions. he’s sat cross-legged on the bed with you pulled into his lap, legs locked around his waist. his cock is pinned between your stomachs, smearing precum on your skin and your mouth waters as you catch sight of the blushing tip. 

he whispers your name to grab your attention, naked devotion plain on his face when you gaze up at him. “i love you.” 

this. this was your breaking point. the words you longed to hear every time you picked up the phone for those dreaded calls. your vision blurs with tears that well up and spill down your cheeks before you could blink them away. “you do?” 

“i do, baby, with everything i’ve got. i-“ he falters for a moments, visibly steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you. there’s not a future i can picture that doesn’t include you. you’re it for me.” 

“i want that too ‘sei.” you hiccup, more tears trickle out faster than you can wipe them clear. 

you feel his whole body relax, hands rubbing at your sides to soothe you. “don’t cry, angel. wait till i’m inside you at least.” 

“shut up.” your laugh comes out watery but it feels good to smile. “how do you go from sweet to nasty so fast?” 

“just wanted to see you smile.” you try and fail to suppress another grin that only widens when mattsun peppers your cheeks with loud kisses. “so pretty and all mine.”

“all yours.” you repeat, grinding your soaked folds along the underside of his cock. “and you’re mine, right?” 

“that’s right, princess. go on, take what’s yours.” 

sinking down on mattsun feels like coming home, the empty ache finally gone as he fills you and you both moan when he bottoms out. there’s no way for you to bounce in this position but you find that you don’t mind. you feel closer to him like this, what little space there is between you vibrating with how vulnerable you both were. 

it’s relaxing, slowly rolling your hips against each other, not building towards anything and indulging in the other’s touch. your hands roam across his broad back, sucking dark marks into his neck while he grabs at your ass, kneading and groping so possessively you clench around him. 

“fuck.” he groans next to your ear. “keeping squeezing me with that princess cunt, you feel so fucking good. just like that, good girl.” 

“issei…” you whimper, pressure gradually building in your gut as your grinding gets sloppy and legs grow weak. 

“what is it, baby? use your words.” 

“want more, ‘sei i want your cum.” 

“yeah? want me to fill up this greedy pussy and keep you warm with my cum?” he leans forward, keeping you cradled in his arms as your back hits the mattress, your legs still crossed around his waist keeping him as close to you as possible. 

you nod, half delirious with need and mattsun begins thrusting in earnest. his cock is so thick he nudges against every sensitive spot along your walls, his tip battering just below your cervix and hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. his hands pry yours open from where you had been gripping the sheets and laces his fingers with yours. a swell of love rises in you and has you gasping for air as he fucks you into the mattress. you can’t even hear your own moans over the squelch as you grow wetter and wetter and the smack of his heavy balls against your ass.

your orgasm takes both of you by surprise, ripping through you so violently you’re left a shaking mess. mattsun’s hips stutter, bucking wildly into you as he nears his own high and you stare in awe as he reaches it. it’s a sight you’ll never get enough of, how beautiful he looks as he spills endlessly inside you, mindlessly grinding it deeper with his softening cock. 

“you okay, angel?” he asks, pulling you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. 

“mhmm. can we stay like this?” you weren’t ready to put any space between you, not so soon after reconnecting.

“‘course we can.” he settles over you, knowing exactly what you need. his weight a reassurance that grounds you in a way words never could. it’s a conversation in its own right, one that could only pass between two people who knew each other as well as you knew each other. in the quiet afterglow he tells you that he’s here with you. that you were going to work on being okay again. that he wouldn’t let you feel that lonely ever again. and you believe him with every fibre of your being. 

dedicated to: @honeykeigo @ohno-otome @keigobaby @saintdabi @toshidou @sawam0chi

[keanureevesisbae]

You're on a roadtrip and in the middle of nowhere, your car breaks down. Obviously your phone died too - what happens next?

This, is very interesting and my horny brain figured out what would happen next 👀👀

Walter Marshall x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.5k (yes, a lot happens)

Warnings: Fingering, squirting, unprotected sex 👀

‘Piece of shit,’ you mutter under your breath. You cannot believe this happened again and to make matters even worse, you're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Last time your car decided to break down, at least it happened downtown, meaning there were around five men who saw you hopelessly staring at your car, not knowing what to do and offered their help.

Now, you’re by yourself.

You grab your phone from the passengers seat, only to discover the most horrible thing that could ever happen to you.

Your battery died.

It’s probably around thirty minutes until you reach some sort of civilization and it’s getting darker and darker.

Oh no, is this how people get murdered?

Great, now you’re not only by yourself, but you also scared yourself by envisioning horrible scenario's. You pop the hood of the car, only to realize that everything looks the exact same and you have no idea where to start. Why do the problems have to be so complicated? If it were a flat tire, you probably would’ve managed to fix it, but this is on a whole new level of complex.

A car stops behind yours and your heart stops for a few seconds. Please don’t be a serial killer, please don’t be creepy in general. You peek around your car, only to see the very familiar truck. You’ve seen that car around in town, including the owner of it.

You watch him step out of the vehicle. His shoulders are broad, his strut is confident and his brows are furrowed, but that is nothing new. When he sees it’s you, one corner of his mouth curls up. ‘Sweetheart,’ he says and you can’t help but slightly giggle when hearing that nickname.

Detective Walter Marshall is a very well loved customer at the cafe you work at, mostly because he comes by every day and has become a reliable income. He always orders one cappuccino to go and sometimes he goes a little crazy and orders a cookie with it as well. He rarely smiles, but recently you noticed that whenever you took his orders, you not only earned yourself a very lovely 'Sweetheart', but also a small smile. Sometimes, he would even go as far to asking you what your plans were for after work and when you answered with whatever the plans were, he would simply nod and tell you to not have too much fun without him.

It was cheeky and slightly flirty, but it was always within the four walls of the cafe and nothing happened. You wished though. Walter Marshall was a very desired bachelor in town.

‘Hi detective,’ you say with a smile.

‘Car trouble?’

You nod. ‘Yes, it’s just that my car gives up from time to time.’

‘I see, I see.’ He rolls up his sleeves and stands next to you, examining everything. He starts to say something about some sort of liquid/fuel-thingy, but you have no idea what he means. Not only are you distracted because it’s too complicated, but also because of his outstanding beauty. No man in town tips to him.

Of course you fantasized about him, just like everyone else. There was quite the age gap between you, a rough fifteen years, but that never stopped you from having the most disgusting, NSFW dreams about him.

‘What?’ you ask him, when he looks at you, obviously waiting for an answer.

‘You weren’t listening,’ he chuckles. ‘That’s okay. What I said was that it’s too late to call for a tow truck and that I can’t fix it right away. We can leave your car here and I can drive you to your place if you want.'

'But what if it gets stolen?'

'How?' he asks. 'The car doesn't work, right?'

You shake your head. 'Maybe it's for the best. It's a stupid car anyway. The only reason I have it, because I got it for free.'

'Maybe that should've been a red flag. Free cars are rarely reliable.'

You scoff. Dammit, you hate it when other people are right. 'You sure you want to give me a lift?'

Walter scoffs. ‘I’m not gonna leave you in the middle of nowhere by yourself.’ He closes the hood of my car and adds to it: ‘Besides, I don’t want anything to happen to my favorite barista. You’re the only one who hasn’t messed with my cappuccino.’

You shouldn’t giggle or feel nervous, yet you do both.

‘Come on, go grab your stuff and we’ll go.’

You walk over to the driver’s side and lean over the seats to grab both the key from the ignition and your bag. Then you realize that you are wearing a pretty short skirt and your underwear is a bit on the flimsier side. You hear an approving hum from behind you. Part of you wants to die of shame, the other part however makes sure things heat up in between your thighs.

When you get out of the car and close the door, Walter has his arms crossed in front of his chest. ‘One condition, sweetheart,’ he says, taking the bag from your hand.

You frown. ‘For what?’

‘For me to give you a lift back home.’ He holds out one of his hands and says: ‘That piece of fabric you call your underwear, please.’

You blink your eyes once, twice and the universe how many times after that, mostly because you cannot believe those words—those dirty words—left his lips. His expression barely changed. It’s the emotionless look you are so used of seeing, but the words that take you by surprise.

You have had many dirty daydreams, but handing over your underwear in the middle of nowhere wasn’t one. You hook your thumbs behind the waistband of your panties and push it down your legs. When you step out of them, you hand them to Walter, who nods in approval.

The two of you walk towards the passenger’s side of his truck, when he grabs you by your hip and turns you around. With your back pressed against the door, he lets his hand slide underneath your skirt between your thighs. Your lips slightly parted, as his rough fingers knead the soft flesh of your thighs. ‘Do you have any idea how much I’ve been wanting this?’ he asks you. ‘It’s always those pretty smiles,’ he continues, ‘the way you lean over the counter in those tops with a deep neckline and how you bite your lip when you’re focused. Have you got a clue of what that does to me?’

‘No detective, I don’t,’ you whimper.

Walter smiles at your desperation, as you’re already grinding against his fingers. Fuck, he knew deep down what you could be, but this he didn’t expect. He dips in one finger, but when he discovers how wet you are, how ready you are for him, he pushes in another.

Your pleasured moan fills the emptiness around you. You’re a loud one too, Walter thinks to himself. You sure are the jackpot. His fingers brush against all the right spots. He watches your eyes rolling back, your breathing become ragged and your thighs and walls clenching together. ‘Beg for it,’ he says.

Instantly, you obey. ‘Detective, please, please, can I cum?’

There is no way you are truly real.

He barely has the change to answer, when you tumble over the edge. When you have to hold onto him since you can’t trust your own legs. When you squirt passed his fingers down your legs. The sobs and strained moans that leave your lips, make him grin in satisfaction. He roughly slams his lips against yours and within a second you melt against him.

He pulls out his fingers and without letting go of your lips for one millisecond, he opens the door of his truck. ‘They always say you are such a lovely young lady. So innocent and sweet,’ he says to you. ‘But you’ve got a dirty streak.’

You bite your lip and let out a sweet giggle when he turns you around, bending you over the passengers seat of the truck, your toes barely finding the ground. As Walter uses one hand to knead the soft flesh of your ample behind, the other unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. After pumping it a few times, he lines himself up at your throbbing cunt, before pushing himself in entirely.

The sounds that leave your lips, make him go feral. Part of him wants to take the time, worship your body and look you in the eye as you fall apart in his arms. But that part doesn’t have the upper hand now. The part that wants to destroy you, rail you, fill you is completely taking over.

There is no stopping now. Skin slapping against skin. His groans mixed with your cries of pleasure. He can feel it, your warm walls that feel so good around him, start to squeeze his hard member. ‘Detective, I’m close again,’ you wail.

‘Let it go, sweetheart,’ he tells you and on cue you start to shudder, your orgasm washing over you and that’s enough for him to reach his limits. He holds your hips tightly, probably imprinting you with some bruises, as he paints you from the inside.

He gives himself a few seconds to regain himself, before he pulls out and watches it all drip down your legs. You’re limb, barely able to stand on your legs. Your skirt is still bundled up near your waist, revealing your beautiful round bottom.

He grabs you by your arm and pulls you against his body, pressing his lips on yours. ‘You’re gonna make a mess on my seat,’ he says.

‘You’re fault,’ you mumble against his lips, only for you to earn a sharp slap on your behind. ‘Sorry, detective,’ you whisper. ‘How— Where do I sit then?’

He smiles. ‘Right on my cock as I drive you to my place, because we’re not done yet.’

✨ Okay, I'll see myself out now ✨

[ptergwen]

Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??

abort mission

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst

a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too

-

“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.

he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.

every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team. 

so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.

“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.

“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.

“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.

“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.

you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.

“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”

you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”

you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.

his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”

you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”

the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.

“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.

“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.

“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”

your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.

“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.

“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.

he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.

peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.

“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.

you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.

peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.

frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.

“fan-fucking-tastic.”

-

you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.

it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.

he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.

there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.

you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.

“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”

you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.

you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.

“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.

you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.

“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”

it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.

“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.

“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.

you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.

“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.

“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”

peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.

“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”

“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.

yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 21 - Nowhere to Run [Spencer Reid x Reader]

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

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood, nightmares.

Word Count: 4300

Summary: Everyone needs a shelter.

For all your life, your sister had always said she hated watching horror movies with you because you would always criticize every character and their choices in the movie.

Who would even stay where they were when they knew there was danger outside, when they knew there was something coming for them?

You had never thought you’d learn the answer first hand;

Because there was nothing else to do, and because that was exactly what you were doing.

Spencer and the rest of his team had sent you away from that basement so that you could get some fresh air and at least attempt to get away from the greeting written on the wall with blood but you knew it was impossible.

There was no running away from that, you had seen it already.

You dangled your legs off the pier back and forth, keeping your gaze on the lake that looked so calm that it was almost like a painting. Funny, you hadn’t ever stopped to enjoy it when you were still a child, you had never actually sat there on the pier to take a breath, wrapped in the safety that would soon disappear.

The footsteps coming closer pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned you head as Spencer sat down next to you.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked out and he ran his fingers through his curls.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head, “I’m not sure what home is for me at this point, to be honest with you,” you murmured, “Besides I heard the other agents talking, you guys are going to be pretty busy the moment the rest of your team gets here.”

He heaved a sigh, biting inside his cheek but you kept your gaze on the lake.

“It makes it official right?” you asked, “All these murders…It’s not really about my father’s legacy. It’s about me.”

He stole a look at you, “Y/N…”

“It’s okay professor,” you said, “Trust me, I’m not going to run and scream.”

“The profile is changing constantly with every piece of evidence-“

“Spencer.”

He let out a breath, pursing his lips.

“It is pointing that way so far,” he muttered, “It doesn’t matter though. His legacy or an obsession with you, we’re still going to catch him.”

A silence fell upon you and you cleared your throat, pointing at the woods on the other side of the lake.

“Mina and I used to play the princess and the monster over there,” you said, “I mean… It was either me who was the princess or Mina and I were saving some imaginary princess because Mina wanted to be friends with her.” You used air quotes, “I don’t know whose shock was more fake when she came out, mine or mom’s.”

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah?”

“Mm hm, and right over there,” you pointed at the right, “Linc chased me with a worm in his hand to scare me off, and I ended up falling into the damn lake.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Then Mina pushed him into the lake too and we all got grounded for the whole weekend.” You let out a breath and pointed back at the cabin with your thumb, “And right there, dad showed me how to kill someone for the first time.”

His head shot up, “What?”

You scoffed, “He didn’t tell you that during those sessions?”

Spencer shook his head, frowning.

“He taught me…” you wetted your lips, “How to- how to hunt, that’s what he called it. Predator and prey. After teaching me how to analyze places to find a weapon, he taught me how to find my way in the woods. Just in case. He used to um-“ you cleared your throat, “I don’t really remember all of it, I don’t know how much of it are nightmares or memories, but I remember once he dragged me here in the middle of the night, and he opened the door and there was this man…”

“Petal honey, don’t get so close to him,” your father called out from the kitchen he sharpened the knife as you took a step closer to the man who was gagged and bleeding profusely, still whimpering on the floor. Even in the dim light you could see the look of terror on his face and your heart skipped a beat as you turned your head to look at your father.

“Daddy, he-“ you shifted your weight from one foot to other, “Maybe we can just leave him like this. He’d be dead by the morning.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asked before getting closer to you, flipping the knife in his hand and the man started yelling through the gag, but it was muffled. Your father extended his hand, motioning at the huge teddy bear you were hugging closer to your chest and you bit on your lip, then handed him that.

“You can get the teddy back after you answer 3 questions right, you know the rules,” he told you, “Alright, if I wanted him to die quickly, where would I stab?”

“Jugular.”

“Where’s the jugular?”

You pointed at the man’s neck, “There.”

“Good. What if I wanted him to suffer for hours with just one stab wound?”

You paused and scrunched up your nose, forcing your mind for the information before you looked up at him.

“In the stomach,” you said, “Stomach acid hurts.”

He thought for a second, then handed you the teddy back.

“Good job honey,” he said and walked to the man with the knife in his hand.

“I couldn’t do anything,” you pressed your lips together, “For hours and hours he tortured him and when we got back home, I went to bed and the next morning I wouldn’t stop shivering, I kept throwing up and my mom thought I had the flu so we ended up not coming to the cabin that weekend. I know how he—” you clicked your tongue, “I know how he pretends to be a normal guy. During those interviews, that documentary, even in those sessions with you he keeps pretending like he’s normal, but I know him. I know the real monster and I…”  you sniffled and cleared your throat, “Profiler or not, you have no idea what he’s capable of. He put me through actual hell, Spencer. No wonder I can’t remember half of this shit, I think I’d lose my mind if I did.”

“Y/N…”

“I didn’t stop him.”

He frowned, “How old were you?”

“Seven.”

“You couldn’t have stopped him even if you wanted to,” Spencer told you, “You were a child.”

“I could’ve told someone,” you murmured, looking at the lake, “I could’ve done something.”

“You were a child,” he repeated, “Children trust their parents, okay? You know it as well as I do that he’s a master at manipulation. Whatever he has done, it’s not your fault.”

“I doubt those bodies in the basement would agree with you,” you managed to say and let out a humorless chuckle, “Besides, I’m my father’s daughter, remember? You told me so yourself.”

The impact of your words would’ve been surprising if you weren’t so distracted by your own misery. He pulled back as if you had just slapped him, his hazel eyes searching your face and he swallowed thickly, opening and closing his mouth like he was at loss for words.

“I didn’t mean—” he paused, shaking his head “Y/N, that wasn’t the truth.”

You grabbed the cigarette out of your purse and lit it, dangling your legs back and forth over the pier.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged your shoulders, “You’re not the first person to think that, and weirdly enough, you’re not the first ex to think that either-“

“That’s not what I think,” he insisted, “Nothing about you even suggests that you’re anything like him, behavior or psychological wise. I just wanted to—“ he hesitated for a moment, his jaw clenching, “Hurt you back.”

You tried to smile, still keeping your gaze on the lake as you exhaled the smoke.

“Congratulations professor, you’re pretty good at that.”

A silence fell upon you both as you twirled the cigarette between your fingers.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was so gentle that you turned your head to look at him, “I really am. I never should’ve hit below the belt, not like that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No really,” you insisted, “I don’t want to talk about that anymore, I’m just so—“ you closed your eyes for a moment “God, I’m just so tired Spencer. You have no idea how tired I am.”

“I know.”

“And it just doesn’t end,” you murmured and opened your eyes, “Right? I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months now, and everything is getting so out of my control.”

“It will end soon.”

“But we don’t know that,” you insisted as almost a hysterical laugh escaped from your lips, “Do you want to hear the worst part? I don’t think this feeling will ever go away. At this point, I don’t even remember how it feels like not to be afraid.”

He heaved a sigh, then looked over his shoulder when Luke approached you two.

“Sorry guys,” he said, shifting his weight, “But um- Reid, we need you in there.”

“Can’t someone else-“

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you stood up and dusted off your jeans, “Seriously. Besides, the sooner you catch this guy, the sooner…I don’t know, the sooner things go back to normal, whatever that means.”

“You can’t just drive home like this.”

“I’ll drive her,” Luke said, making you turn your head,

“Dude, aren’t you needed here too?”

“I’m going to go back to help out Rossi,” he said, “Not all of the team has to be here, I mean-“ he nodded at Spencer, “We’ve got our genius here, he’s got it covered. I can take the babysitting duty.”

“No pastries for you anymore.”

“I would like to rephrase my statement,” he said quickly, making you smile before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

“Y/N-“ Spencer started but you shot him a look.

“I’m fine,” you said, “Go do your Sherlock stuff, professor. Solve the case so that I can start planning weddings again instead of hanging around creepy cabins. I’m just gonna go home and get drunk, so you’ll probably get a voicemail or two from me, just saying.”

“Can’t wait,” Spencer smiled softly and you followed Luke to your car, then handed him the keys and got in the passenger seat. He started the car and you slipped a little in the seat, leaning your knees on the dash.

“How are you holding up?” Luke asked you and you heaved a sigh.

“I feel like I’m in a horror movie to be honest with you,” you muttered, “Who the fuck writes on a wall with blood, I mean like who are you, Michael Myers?”

“I didn’t mean the case,” he stole a look at you and you raised your brows.

“Ah, that,” you said, “Well, I don’t have a bff that sets me up with people in night clubs, so there’s that.”

He hissed in a breath, “Garcia told you.”

“Mm hm,” you looked out of the window, “No hard feelings, don’t worry. I dated lots of frat boys back when I was in college, so I’m very familiar with the bro code.”

“You dated frat boys?” he made a face and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Yeah I started from the bottom and worked my way up to the genius back there.”

He chuckled, “I take it you still haven’t told him you threatened a serial killer because he happened to threaten him?”

“I would’ve done the same for anyone.”

“Bullshit.”

Your jaw dropped, “I let you drive my car and this is the thanks I get, Alvez?”

“Okay trust fund baby, I’m driving you home, you’re not doing me a favor.”

You let out a small laugh, “Eh, I’m not that bad.”

“Your sister threatened a whole police department using lawyers.”

“They had it coming,” you said and he cleared his throat.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was an actual fiasco.”

Your head shot up and you turned to him, “Hm?”

“That whole thing with Reid. He’s not over you.”

“He will be,” you murmured, “Eventually.”

“Do you want to hear why it was a fiasco?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an exaggeration-“

“He spent the whole night talking about you,” he cut you off and your jaw dropped, “Yeah. More like, she asked him about his job and he mentioned the case, then talked about you and how you couldn’t be the killer for hours. For a second, I thought he’d go up to the DJ booth and start broadcasting from there.”

You could feel the warmth spreading through you, but you nibbled on your lip, trying to ignore it.

“I really hurt him Luke.”

He stole a look at you from the corner of his eye.

“I know,” he said, “That’s pretty clear. I don’t know which one is worse, that you hurt him or that it doesn’t seem to change anything on his part.”

You could feel the burning in your eyes but you slipped a little in your seat and kept your eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I don’t know which one is worse either.”

                                                   ***

The worst thing about nightmares?

There was no escape from them, and no amount of booze could make them go away.

You woke up to your own scream and leaped out of the bed so fast that you got caught in your sheets and fell on your face, your ears ringing. You could feel the bile burning your throat, so you covered your mouth and rushed to the bathroom to throw up into the toilet, barely aware of the sobs rocking your body. You wiped at your mouth and stood up on shaky legs, then brushed your teeth, still breathing hard.

You were there again, in that graveyard with your father, but this time you couldn’t brush it off as just a nightmare.

It was way too detailed, way too familiar to be a nightmare.

You wiped at your forehead and washed your face with ice cold water, desperate for some sort of a relief and leaned over the sink, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Fuck this shit,” you rasped out to yourself before turning the tap off and raised your glances to look in the mirror.

Well.

You looked exactly like how you felt.

You still didn’t trust your legs but still managed to leave the bathroom, Making your way to your bedroom was more than enough to give you goosebumps, but you snatched your phone off the bedside table. You almost dropped it because of how badly you were trembling with fear, but managed to hold it tighter, found his name in the contacts and took the phone to your ear.

He answered immediately.

“Hello?”

“Spencer, hi,” you said, still taking deep breaths, “I um… I had this- this nightmare and I- I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”

He hesitated for a moment, “Are you okay? Why are you breathing so fast?”

“Not a panic attack,” you wiped at your nose, “Not yet anyway.”

“Okay, I’m still coming over-“

“No!” you cut him off, then licked your lips, “No I can’t…. I can’t stay here right now, I need to get out of here. Can we please meet somewhere or-or-“

“How about my place?” he asked and you heard the unmistakable clinking of keys, “You can’t drive like that, I’ll come and pick you up, wait there-“

“No I’ll just take a taxi.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll take a taxi, just send me the location,” you told him and hung up, quickly got dressed, got into your coat, then went downstairs when your taxi arrived. You still felt like you could throw up again, but the cool air coming from the open car window helped as the driver started the car after you gave him the location.

There was a beauty in the city at night, especially in chilly nights like these. The small raindrops falling down your face offered some kind of a small comfort while you tried your hardest to ignore the images flashing through your mind, taking a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs. You leaned your head to the open window, closing your eyes and letting the noise of the city drag you out of your own mind.

By the time the taxi pulled over, you were almost lost in your thoughts and only when the driver let you know that you were there you opened your eyes. You paid him, and looked up at the building before making your way inside.

It was almost strange how you hadn’t seen his apartment when you two were dating, but now here you were.

After the break up. At three in the morning.

You wiped at your nose and fixed your hair before you knocked on the door and tried to control your breathing, but that felt way too difficult. As soon as he opened the door, everything you had planned to tell him in your head disappeared and you looked up at him in complete silence for a couple of seconds, you had almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t in his work clothes. A warmth filled you, the urge to rush into his arms taking over you but you managed to fight the urge and stepped into the apartment, desperately searching for the right words.

“I had that nightmare, again.” You turned to him as soon as you entered the living room, stumbling over your words, “That graveyard nightmare, but Spencer I think it wasn’t just a dream, I think you were right and it was a memory and there was someone else but I can’t see a face and—“

“Y/N.”

“And I think we were there because of me because it all just connected, we were at that graveyard and he was actually digging a grave and I can remember the face of the victim but not—“

“Sweetheart, breathe.” he approached you in three long steps and his warm hands cupped your cheek so that he could look at you better, “I’m here, I’m listening, okay? Just breathe and tell me. Slowly.”

You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.

“I had that nightmare again,” you managed to say, “But I think that’s a memory.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “How?”

“Because at the graveyard, dad told me something,” you said, “He was- he was digging a grave, and he said, Remember, you’re not supposed to make them bleed if you can’t kill them. And I remembered when that happened, back at the cabin, during the training, I… I untied one of the victims and pretended like he got out of them somehow.”

His hand slipped a little so that he could brush his fingers over your neck, almost soothing you.

“It didn’t work,” you shook your head, “As soon as he got out of the cabin, dad hunted him down and dragged him back into the cabin, he had lost way too much blood to make a run for it. Spencer, that’s a memory, not just a nightmare.”

“There was another person with you? At the graveyard?”

“He took the victim to the graveyard later on, but yes. There was someone, I just…I can’t remember who,” you heaved a shaky breath, “You need to tell the team-“

“We’re already checking the graveyards within the driving distance to the cabin, I told them today.”

You blinked a couple of times, “Did you?”

“Yeah,” he said and his eyes searched your face, “You’re shaking.”

You tried to smile and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, running your thumb over his warm skin, “It’s cold out there.”

You were lying, he knew you were lying and you knew that he knew, but neither of you commented on that. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled you closer to him, letting you bury your face into his chest as he held you tight and you inhaled his scent, closing your eyes.

He was right earlier. This was an addiction.

“Were you sleeping?” you muttered into his chest before you pulled back to look up at him. He scoffed and shook his head.

“No,” he said, “I was working on the case.”

“You really need to sleep.”

“It’s ironic to hear that from you,” he pointed out and that made a smile warm your face.

“Ah but I did sleep,” you said, “I just woke up because of the nightmares. It still counts as sleep.”

“I doubt that,” he said and you turned your head before you started walking around the room.

Spencer’s apartment was more or less what you imagined, to be honest. Contrary to yours, it was darker and obviously older. The wooden desk was covered in papers and books, there was a library by the corner of the room almost stacked to the brim, and overall it reminded you so much of him that just being in his apartment made you feel-

Safer. Better. Calmer.

“Lovely place,” you commented as you approached the library to drag your fingertips over the cracked and old spines of the books and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift his weight.

“Yeah it’s not- it’s not like yours but I like it.”

“Not like mine?” you looked over your shoulder and he cleared his throat.

“Mm hm.”

“I like it better than mine,” you said and he frowned,

“Why?”

“It looks like someone is actually living here,” you motioned around and he tilted his head.

“Is that a good thing?”

“It is,” you said, “I mean I can see….you in here. I can’t see any part of me in my apartment.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “My mom has this person who designs her houses, she designed my apartment too. It’s pretty but it’s just not me I guess. It’s kind of sad when you think about it.”

He hummed, his eyes watching your every move and you pulled a book from the shelf, holding it up so that he could see the title.

“You don’t strike me as a Petrarch guy,” you tilted your head, “Are you?”

He raised his brows and stole a look at the book in your hand.

“I do not pray, since there is no purpose, that my heart should ever burn less fiercely, but only that she might share part of the fire.” he recited and your jaw dropped before you pouted.

“I hate bluffing with you,” you commented, making him chuckle and you stifled a yawn while turning the book in your hands.

“You can’t work for the whole night if you have a guest.” you gestured at the wooden table and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I won’t if my guest promises she’ll try to sleep.”

“I don’t like this deal.”

“That’s the deal you’re getting,” he said and you clicked your tongue, then walked to the center of the room and sat down on the floor before you lied down.

“I have a bed, you know.”

“I don’t want to get comfortable and fall asleep yet. I want to enjoy this more.”

“Enjoy what? Lying on the floor?”

You shook your head and kept your gaze on the ceiling, the dim light of the apartment and lights from the outside creating shadows there.

“I don’t have that…mind numbing fear right now,” you managed to say “I want to make it last. It’ll come back when I wake up tomorrow, trust me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, then heaved a sigh and sat down on the floor as well, leaning his back to the leather armchair. You tossed him the book and he caught it mid-air, shooting you a quizzical look.

“Read me your favorite,” you said and he smiled slightly.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’ll help me get out of my head, and it might help you….ignore the fact that your night club date was terrible, apparently.”

He raised his brows, “Luke told you?”

You tried to stop your smirk, but it was impossible,

“Yeah he did,” you said and bit inside your cheek for a moment, “Thank you though.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me.”

His gaze on you was gentle, “I wish you would believe in yourself too,” he told you, “You’re not what he tried to turn you into.”

You dragged the tip of your tongue over your lip.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we should move on?”

He took a deep breath, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “We probably should. But do I think we can move on? I don’t think so.”

You nodded slowly, that burning in your eyes getting even worse as he turned the pages until he found what he was looking for, then cleared his throat and started reading.

“I have offered you my heart a thousand times

O my sweet warrior, only to make peace

with your lovely eyes: but it does not please you

with your noble mind, to stoop so low.”

You smiled to yourself, painfully aware of why he picked that one, then closed your eyes, his voice washing over you.

“And if some other lady has hope of it,

she lives in powerless, deceiving hope:

and it can never be what it was to me,

since I too disdain what does not please you.”

Chapter 22

[lholland14]

Crashing into you (Jill Roord x Reader)

Could you do one w either Jill Roord or Rose Lavelle where it's either a lottttttt of fluff or a lottttttt of angst? Angst obvi ending happily but still. Much appreciated!

Warning: Mentions of death and depression.

C. JoyBell C. once said "Don't be afraid of your fears. They're not there to scare you. They're there to let you know that something is worth it."

Don't be afraid of your fears, easy right? No. For some people perhaps, but not for Jill Jamie Roord.

Her fear of flying prevented her from going places, literally. Her girlfriend Y/n lived in Sweden and the US as well, since she lived so far away, it meant that one of them had to fly. And that person was usually Y/n since she loved flying she usually didn't any complaints.

However, flying was expensive, therefore Y/n couldn't do it all the time resulting in arguments between the two. Y/n thought Jill did nothing to keep their relationship going, but Jill thought Y/n didn't care about Jill and her fear.

~~~

Y/n's prov

Once I again I'm flying over to me girlfriend who lives in the Netherlands. I'm going to lie that this isn't tiring, but I love and miss Jill. Which is why I'm doing this.

As I walked to the terminal I sent a quick message to Jill telling her that I was at the airport and couldn't text her till I was landed in Spain since I was taking a connecting flight. I quickly walked to the departure gate A9, and sat down to wait for me plane to board.

~~~

Jill's prov

After I texted Y/n I sat down with Boyd to watch some TV for a bit until the program was interrupted by breaking news. The West Jet DL680 plane had crashed going to Spain from the US, there were no survivors.

Immediately I remembered Y/n had gone to Spain, sponsored by West Jet, and her plane was DL680.

I ran out of the room and into mine desperately calling Y/n knowing it was hopeless, but still doing it anyway.

She didn't answer.

I called her again.

And again.

Same result.

Some say insanity was doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result.

Well, I was insane.

Again. No answer.

Finally I fell to the floor in desperation.

In a second my entire world came crashing down. Y/n Y/l/n was gone. Gone.

I tried to picture it, a life without you. I couldn't, she was in every memory, every dream everywhere. I dragged myself of the floor, only to fall on Y/n pillow.

I just wish I had replied her text with an "I love you" I wished I could've told you that I loved you the second I met you. That I knew from the moment you smiled at me. That I promised you a lifetime of happiness the day I told you I loved you.

If only I had known that I wouldn't get to keep that promise, I would've held you tighter the last time I saw you

------

They say you don't know what you have until it's gone, but no one ever talks about the aftershock.

They don't talk about the pain and the suffering of losing the greatest thing that ever happened to you, and the feeling that you'll never be whole again. How you lose a piece of yourself, and for the rest of you life feeling lost, destined to forever wander into nothingness.

Because what you lost was your everything.

------

It had been two hours since the plane crash and Jill still hadn't come out of her room, so her father decided to check up on her.

"Jill?" He knocked before entering, and when he did the sight broke his heart.

Jill was laying in your designated place, wearing one of your sweatshirts and holding on to your teddy bear for dear life.

She always teased you that having a teddy bear was childish, and you would always hit her with in annoyance. Right now all she could wish for was that you would come home, she didn't care how. Angry, bleeding, in a bad mood, anything, just as long as you were breathing.

But you didn't, not when she woke up at two o'clock in the morning to a cold bed, not when she fell back asleep to your face. The only time she saw your face was through dreams and photos.

Life moved forwards, but Jill was stuck in the past. Relaying her conversations to you, memories made with you, trying to remember what your touch felt like.

As she cried she barely felt her father enter and sit on the opposite side of the bed.

When Jill felt her dad's comforting hand on her shoulder she only cried harder, wishing it was your hand.

"It's my fault," She choked up "If I hadn't been so stubborn she would have-"

"Shh. It's okay, I'm, I'm sure she-" Her father tried to comfort her before Jill interrupted him.

"I killed her."

------

"I killed her." Echoed through Jill mind, as once again she started to cry. Her father left, trying to process and to try to figure out how to help his precious daughter.

He couldn't, no one could.

As he left Jill phone pinged with a text, it was only 8 am, and the text message was only spam. This made Jill cry harder and plunged her face into Wallace, your teddy bear.

You had a habit of making sure Jill always got attention, and had always texted her good morning.

Not this time, this time there was nothing. Thats how it was going to be for the rest of Jill's life.

She inhaled some of your scent through Wallace, your favourite teddy bear.

Although she always made fun of him, she never knew the story of him.

It was August 1st, the day before your birthday, when everything went down in flames. Your house, and you had just came back from the park caring your soccer ball with you when you saw the smoke from your home.

Although you were only 6 you knew exactly what to do, you called the fire department. As you waited with a firewomen you were told the news, not only had your home burned down, but your family with it.

On you birthday the next day, a fireman named Wally gave you the bear.

He told you that he was given the bear when his father was killed during the Vietnam war.

You named the bear Wallace, not only for the man who gave you the furry companion, but because Wallace always looked sad. Like he was wallowing in sadness. Much like you were that day.

Wallace had been through so many tragedies, with so many stories to share, but no one knew. No one new you were the last of the Y/l/n legacy. No one knew how much Y/n wanted to change that. No one knew how much Y/n wanted to make Jill apart of that legacy.

No one.

And that's how it would stay.

-----

It was at 12 when her brothers started to get worried. Jill Roord was famous for her boundless energy and attention seeking personality, yet here she was lifeless in her bed.

"Hey Jillie." Boyd greeted his sister quietly.

"Go away." Jill replied.

Davy sighed before setting a plate of food on the bedside table.

"Eat Jill. You haven't eaten for a day"

"Just leave" Jill curled her self up and hid under her pillow.

------

When it turned 4 Jill heard a knock and a scream, then more screams. Jill couldn't hear since she was already asleep.

Someone opened the door and laid down next to Jill, she opened her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows when she smelled Y/n scent.

Immediately she turned around to Y/n bright eyes and small smile. Jill screamed and launched herself at the love of her life, resulting in making Y/n fall off the bed.

"How- What-" Jill yelled

Y/n just laughed in response and kissed Jill.

"Sorry love." Y/n smiled at her girlfriend "I should've told you, I took a different flight to get here earlier."

"Then why weren't you here early?" Jill's mom asked

"My flight got delayed." Y/n answered looking up at her with an embarrassed smile.

Jill laughed before kissing Y/n again.

"I'm sorry, Y/n"

"It's okay darling." Y/n smiled at me "I should've called you"

I helped her up and embraced her, laughing when I felt the rest of my family join in too.

"By the way,"Y/n whispered "Good morning gorgeous."

[nctsjiho]

Resolve [Part 2 of ‘Explode’]

Click here for part 1

warnings: none, it’s just a bit longer and the angst of part 1 continues so...

❀ Taeyong decides it’s time for Dream and JiHo to make an end to their fight

JiHo had spent the night over at WayV’s dorm. The chance of seeing Haechan after practise had ended wasn’t one she was willing to take. Johnny had sent Haechan over to the Dream dorm since he wanted the boys to reflect on what they had done and find a way to fix it. He was also slightly agitated and didn’t want to risk yelling at Haechan if he started whining.

A bit after JiHo had left the practise room, the dance instructor came back and had asked where the girl was and why everyone was looking so down. Doyoung had to explain the whole situation which brought the mood down even more. The rest of practise was a nightmare. It felt like it was never going to end. It also made some of the boys realise how JiHo not being there didn’t make much of a difference visually. Realising how JiHo literally wasn’t in any of the unit groups besides the OT24 group dance and some B-tracks which were never going to be performed live. But not having her there did still hurt, it just didn’t feel right.

Mark had checked up on Dream before heading back to his dorm. They all seemed to be coping with the aftermath differently. The unit’s leader wanted to help, but he also knew the boys were old enough to figure it out by themselves. This wasn’t just a small fight and he didn’t want to get too involved.

At WayV’s dorm things weren’t much better. JiHo had found her place in Ten’s bed, the older boy coming to check on her every so often. She didn’t really talk and at a glance she looked like she was going to be just fine, but the next morning she looked horrible. She didn’t get a wink of sleep and Ten knew, but whenever he tried talking to her she just shrugged him off.

They had breakfast together, Lucas and Yangyang trying to cheer her up with some jokes and when she finally smiled for a second the taller one didn’t hesitate to attack her with a hug. “JiHo please talk to us.” He whined burying his head in the crook of her neck. The girl just sighed and continued playing with the food Kun had prepared for her. “Lucas, let her be for a second.” The oldest said patting Lucas on the shoulder. “Please eat something okay? You haven’t touched any of your food yet.” He tried to coax her into eating and she just nodded before taking her first bite.

There were two options: One, have Dream and JiHo fix their problems on their own accord and suffering the possibility that the fight would not be resolved for months. Which would in turn take a toll on their practise and sabotage their comebacks, team work and a lot more for the whole group. Or two, do like they always have. Involve themselves in their problems to try and fix it as a whole group.

As all of NCT gathered in the practise room, Taeyong had made the choice by himself. Mark had noticed someone wasn’t there yet. “Where’s the choreographer?” He asked and everyone started to notice as well. “He’s coming in 2 hours.” Taeyong said walking to the middle of the room. “Why are we here then? I could’ve gotten at least another hour of sleep.” Lucas whined which earned him a slap to the arm from Kun. “Sit down kids, we have some work to do.”

Everyone had gathered around Taeyong in a circle, all clearly confused. He then looked at the Dream members who all looked like they either had been crying for hours last night or if they just rolled out of bed after a horrible night of sleep. He motioned for them to sit in the middle of the circle with a finger. They all hesitantly moved over to where Taeyong pointed. The leader’s gaze than settled on JiHo, who surprisingly looked a lot less dead. Taeyong however knew she wasn’t doing so hot because of the updates he received from WayV ever since she decided to sleep over at their dorm.

Without having to say anything she sat down facing the Dream members, her eyes holding no emotion. “Isn’t this a bit unfair? 6 against 1?” She chuckled sarcastically. Taeyong rolled his eyes. “I think what’s unfair is that the fight between the seven of you is bringing down the whole team. Don’t you agree?” JiHo wasn’t one to raise her voice but the leader’s words just didn’t sit right with her. “Excuse me? You act like I did something wrong. I’m the one who got accused for something I didn’t do! I’m the one who had 6 people screaming at me, acting like I’m the bad guy here! And I saw it in your guys’ eyes yesterday that you were starting to think it was true! I-” She stopped herself when she noticed what she was doing. JiHo had stood up and was yelling at their leader, everyone shocked at the sudden (but not surprising) outburst. “I’m sorry.” She gritted her teeth before sitting down again.

Taeyong had to admit that it was wrong of him to act the way he did. JiHo clearly didn’t do anything wrong, but just because this was now a known fact and the misunderstanding had been cleared up, didn’t mean that the conflict was solved. There was still a lot of tension between the two parties and it wasn’t going to get better if they didn’t address it.

“JiHo we’re sorry-” Renjun started, but Haechan quickly interjected. “It’s all my fault. I just heard you talk to Johnny and heard Jisung’s name and then you started talking about a maknae and I just jumped to conclusions, I shouldn’t have. I should’ve asked, but I was too mad...” JiHo couldn’t make eye contact with any of the boys. Jisung spoke up. “I do trust you JiHo, it’s just that-” “How could you say that if you just believed Haechan anyway? You should’ve asked me first.” It was the first time JiHo’s voice had given in. She sounded so hurt and it made all the members feel horrible. “I know... I didn’t believe Haechan at first, but he also wouldn’t lie to me so I felt conflicted.” It was silent for a bit.

“I just felt like no one was on my side. At least you guys have each other...” The older boys couldn’t watch this anymore, it was such a stupid thing to fight about but the implications were so much more serious. The lack of trust, feeling lonely even while having so many people around. “JiHo, you know I knew the truth.” Johnny spoke up. She didn’t dare to look at him. “We didn’t know that you felt that way.” Jaemin added. “But you just got mad at me without telling me why. Starting to ignore me and look at me like you hated me, and no one said anything. And I know it was so obvious that there was something going on but no one tried bringing it up. You all just waited for someone to explode and for us to start fighting.” JiHo was now talking to the older members. “I- I don’t know, I just felt like I wasn’t part of NCT anymore-” With that Haechan, Jisung and Renjun started bawling their eyes out. The damage they did was even worse than they initially thought. “Don’t say that.” Renjun’s voice hitched. He inhaled deeply after each word as if he forgot how to breath.

The other boys had to do everything they could to hold themselves back from going to comfort the younger members, they still had to talk everything through. Some of them even started crying themselves, wondering how it had gotten so far that one of their members didn’t feel like part of the group anymore.

“It’s almost obvious SM doesn’t want me to be in the group anymore. But I couldn’t help but feel like you guys didn’t want me either after what happened yesterday.” The girl had yet to cry even though she sounded so close to breaking down. She had never cried in front of everyone before, always showing her strongest side. 

A quivering call of her name left Jisung’s lips. He called out for his precious noona, asking what he could do to make her forgive him. The room stayed quiet for a while, everyone anticipating JiHo’s answer, but it never came. Haechan looked at her with hopeful eyes, moving closer cautiously before resting his hand on hers situated in her lap. Her breath hitched and her body jerked slightly at the sudden touch, causing everyone else to jump a little as well. “I’m sorry you couldn’t trust me-” She choked on her own mixture of words and tears. Haechan immediately pulled the girl into his chest, stroking the girl’s hair as he desperately rambled to her. “It’s not your fault”, “I’m sorry”, “I should’ve talked to you”, “Please don’t leave us”. The sentences became a jumbled mess between his painful cries.

It had become too much for everyone. They were either fighting back tears or openly crying, excusing themselves from the room. Taeyong looked down at the mess he had made, but when he saw all the Dream members surround JiHo and Haechan to apologise and tell her how she was in fact a member of NCT and nothing was going to change that, that’s when the leader realised it might not have been so bad after all. The girl had finally opened up and though just this moment alone wasn’t going to solve everything, at least they knew how she felt and it was a great starting point.

Jisung had taken JiHo’s hands in his holding them tightly as he apologised through tears. She gulped at seeing the younger boy like this and pried one of her hands out of his grip. This caused Jisung to let out a sob as he looked at the girl with a shocked expression, mind racing again with the thought she was still mad at him. She quickly placed her hand on top of his own, her thumb caressing the top of his wrist. “It’s okay Jisung-ah. I would never talk bad about you okay?” She looked at him with red cheeks and teary eyes, still trying to stay strong. He nodded quickly just staring back at her, still apologising.

An hour had passed with the younger members talking things out a bit more, JiHo still felt hurt by their actions the day prior, but she also understood where they were coming from. Dream really cared for each other so it was nice to see them have each other's backs. Jisung had now glued himself to the girl, following her closely everywhere she went until Taeyong had called her to talk for a second. He had to clarify to the youngest that he meant talking to JiHo in private, which caused him to hesitantly walk away.

“I’m sorry JiHo, I didn’t mean to make it look like you caused the fight. I also didn’t mean things to become so messy and most importantly make you feel like you weren’t part of NCT. I did a horrible job as a leader-” The girl interrupted him with a hug, knocking the air out of his lungs. “I know you didn’t mean it. I should’ve told you how I felt earlier. But everything is going to be fine now. Okay?” Her whisper made him feel so much more calm. “Okay.” He answered placing his arms over her shoulders and pulling her closer.

[somethingwritey]

How is the Rangshi long fic coming? Id love an update on ittttt!

Hello! I'm so glad you're still thinking about my Rangshi fic! It's currently around 20k at the moment—definitely getting a bit carried away!

Because you asked, here's another little out-of-context snippet ;)

-----

“Do you think the spirits would mind if I assassinated a world leader?”

Jinpa jerked his head up at the question, risking a glance behind him at her. Kyoshi knew she must be a sight to behold, laying out across the wide saddle and staring up at the darkening clouds. In her hands, she opened and closed a fan in time to her pounding pulse.

“I don’t think that’s listed as an Avatar duty,” Jinpa stammered, thoroughly taken aback by her proposal.

“Bummer.”

Jinpa was quiet for a few moments, no doubt trying to edge around the subject towards her reasoning. “I take it that meeting with the Fire Lord went… poorly?”

Kyoshi propped herself up on her elbows to stare him in the face. She hoped he could read how absolutely stupid that question had been. She’d emerged from the Fire Lord’s palace by stomping, causing tiny earthquakes as she marched over to the stables. That should’ve been indication enough.

“He’s out of control.” Kyoshi shivered—Rangi’s absence making itself very apparent just then; she could always be counted on for a little extra warmth while traveling.

Kyoshi went back to staring at the sky.

Zoryu’s words about the Firebender still echoed in her ears, doing more to chill her than the night air ever could. She wished she could put more distance between Rangi and the Fire Lord, despite being hidden away in Yokoya.

For a terrifying moment, she wondered if Zoryu somehow knew. If he could see the girl in her cotton shift, laid out on the infirmary bed with her hands knotted in the sheets. If he had discovered a way to look at the bruises on her face and the way her breath still rattled slightly whenever she breathed. Maybe this whole meeting had been a distraction, a diversion to take Kyoshi away from the infirmary and Rangi. Maybe, it was too late.

“Jinpa!” Kyoshi felt her heart pounding in her ears. “Fly faster!”

She worked herself up as they flew, imagining horrific scenes of injury and destruction—rivaling the iceberg or North Chung-Ling - only this time, it would absolutely be her fault. If anything happened to Rangi, the Flying Opera Company, even Hei-Ran and Atuat, she would be to blame.

Kyoshi gripped the edge of the saddle, her knuckles turning white from the effort. She watched the ground grow closer and closer as Yingyong spiralled into a descent. Her chest tightened with every drop in altitude, and once, she almost slipped over the edge and plummeted the last several feet to the ground.

“Quiet evening.” Jinpa seemed on the whole unaware of her own personal panic. He landed Yingyong with ease and dismounted, walking around the side of the bison to assist Kyoshi like he always did.

She didn’t wait for the monk to make it over to her. She tumbled from the saddle, falling hard onto the ground and scrambling back up to her feet.

“Kyoshi!” he yelled after her in disbelief.

She didn’t turn around, stumbling towards the infirmary to what she knew would be waiting for her. Blindly, she pushed open the door and tripped over the doorway, panting and gasping for air, to find -

No evidence of violence. No ransom note or bodies or trails of blood. Just Hei-Ran and Atuat sitting in a few chairs with bowls of noodles, with the rest of the Flying Opera Company still bedridden, but looking more vibrant than before. Even Rangi looked, on the whole, unchanged, propped up in bed. Someone had even taken the time to put her hair back up in its usual topknot.

“Well,” Hei-Ran said dryly, taking in Kyoshi’s haggard appearance. “Are you being pursued by wolfbats? Lion vultures? Spider snakes, perhaps?”

Kyoshi’s face flushed red, and she tried hard to catch her breath - smoothing down her skirts to remove the ruffles.

“Did the monk get eaten?” Atuat asked calmly, taking another bite of her noodles. Clearly, the two women were enjoying the joke at Kyoshi’s expense.

Rangi covered her mouth, looking as though she was trying to keep a straight face for Kyoshi’s sake and failing at it. Kyoshi glared at her.

“Not you, too.”

A little snort escaped Rangi’s fingers, and her eyes went wide.

“Some bison ride you must’ve had,” Kirmia ventured, surveying Kyoshi’s windswept state. “What did happen to that Airbender of yours?”

Kyoshi gestured out the door. “Probably unsaddling Yingyong,” she told them all, still somewhat out of breath. “I, uh, just needed to check something.”

“The Fire Lord put you on edge?” Hei-Ran put down her bowl of noodles, staring hard at Kyoshi.

She forced herself to look back calmly. The last thing she wanted was to let everyone know that she’d gotten worked up over some unfulfilled threats. And now that she was here, even Kyoshi could tell how stupid she’d been. The infirmary was the safest place for Rangi right now, surrounded as she was by Hei-Ran and Atuat and unable to make any wrong move the Fire Lord could use to justify an attack.

Kyoshi forced a smile, relaxing her shoulders the best she could. “Nothing of the sort.” She tucked her fans back into her belt. “The meeting was simply to confirm what he already knew. Pretty big waste of time, actually.”

Hei-Ran was still studying her skeptically, probably trying to pinpoint the reason for Kyoshi’s sudden change in demeanor. Kyoshi dared to look over at Rangi again.

Her expression mirrored her mother’s, lips slightly pursed and head tilted to the side. If Kyoshi didn’t want Hei-Ran to discover the true nature of her meeting with Zoryu, she definitely didn’t want Rangi figuring it out.

Rangi’s station meant everything to her, and she took her job very seriously. If she knew that her own Fire Lord was pondering possible ways to strip the girl of her life - or worse, her honor - she would lose it.

Kyoshi had already seen how Fire Nation citizens treated their disgraced ranking officials. Hei-Ran had been pitied, patronized, pet like an animal. If anyone were to take that tone with Rangi, well, Kyoshi couldn’t promise that she would be able to keep her Avatar State in check.

“Care for some noodles?” Atuat gestured to her own bowl, holding it up for Kyoshi to see.

There was no way Kyoshi could turn down food. She hadn’t eaten since… well, Kyoshi couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d eaten, and she could feel Rangi staring daggers at her.

“Yeah,” she smiled at Atuat. “Noodles would be great.”

////

It was three days before Rangi was able to stand.

Atuat worked on her the best she could, trying to heal the internal damage caused by Yun. She told Kyoshi that bits of his earth dagger had broken off inside her wound, causing irritation and leaving a large possibility for infection. It didn’t help that Rangi was a terrible patient.

“I can get up,” she kept insisting. “I’m fine!”

When Atuat finally let her try, Rangi leapt at the opportunity, getting to her feet much too quickly and nearly doubling over from lingering stiffness and pain.

“Careful!” Kyoshi cried, hovering nearby. The outburst earned her stares from both Rangi and Atuat.

When Rangi straightened up again—slower this time—Kyoshi could see the imprint of the bandages under her shift - wrapped generously around her torso like battle armor.

“Are you sure she should be doing this?” Kyoshi asked Atuat, probably only fueling Rangi’s determination. “She’s still got bandages on! What if she starts bleeding again? We can try again tomorrow! Or next week!”

“Kyoshi, what’s your problem?” Rangi narrowed her eyes.

She was being far too overprotective, Kyoshi knew. She should back off. Let Rangi manage her own recovery. But even though it was inviting Rangi’s wrath, Kyoshi didn’t want her Firebender’s stubbornness to impede her healing process.

Rangi needed to take it slow. Make sure she didn’t make things worse with her rush to get better. As much as Kyoshi wanted to see her girl back on her feet, she knew it wouldn’t benefit either of them if it happened too quickly.

That’s what Kyoshi told herself as she watched Atuat support Rangi and instruct her to gently raise and lower her arms - stretching out her muscles. Kyoshi just didn’t want Rangi to overextend herself. To tear open her wound. To hurry an infection along. Her concern was born from love and care, not selfishness.

Or cowardice.

As if to poke holes in her reasoning, Hei-Ran entered the tent, arms crossed. “Jinpa told me your meeting with the Fire Lord ended… abruptly.” She glanced over at Atuat and Rangi for the briefest of moments. “Rangi, straighten your shoulders. Injuries don’t excuse bad posture.”

Rangi huffed, but obediently did as she was told. She respected her mother’s authority, whether she liked it or not.

Kyoshi picked her next words carefully. Lying to Hei-Ran was never a good idea, but neither was letting on just how badly the meeting had actually gone. “I think… the messages of both parties had ample time for sinking in.”

The words could’ve come straight from Yun’s mouth—vague with just the right amount of high-brow language. Maybe she wasn’t a hopeless cause after all.

Hei-Ran seemed surprised by the response as well. “I see. And what message did the Fire Lord impart on you?”

Shit.

Kyoshi tried to think on her feet. “Politics,” she said at last. “The importance of… political relations.”

“Sounds like the stuff Jianzhu used to preach,” Rangi offered, crinkling up her nose at the mention of the departed sage.

Hei-Ran sniffed dismissively at the mention of the man who’d nearly poisoned her to death. Kyoshi wondered inwardly if the woman ever mourned Jianzhu, despite everything. He had once been her close companion, after all.

Every one of Hei-Ran’s old friends were gone, she suddenly realized - swallowing hard. Kuruk. Kelsang. Jianzhu. The once-inseparable gang hadn’t stayed that way for very long. Hei-Ran was the sole survivor.

Killed after hunting dark spirits.

Murdered by Jianzhu.

Murdered by Yun. And me.

What terrible fates had been waiting for the previous Avatar team, often at the hands of each other. Was that what waited for her? For Rangi? For Wong and Kirimia? Was every Avatar doomed to bring failure and annihilation to the people who loved them most?

“Atuat,” she said sharply, turning to look at Rangi who’d made good progress accompanied by the Waterbender. “That’s enough for today.”

“Yes, Avatar.”

As Atuat moved to help Rangi back to bed, Rangi protested - an angry haze settling over her face as she watched Kyoshi move towards the door.

“What?” Rangi twisted in Atuat’s grip, trying to break free, to run after her. “Who let her call the shots around here? Kyoshi, don’t you dare walk away from me! I’m not through talking about this!”

Kyoshi didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

“Fine! Go clear your head! See if I care!”

And then Kyoshi made it out of earshot.

She would delay Rangi’s recovery as long as she possibly could, drag it out until the spirits themselves were begging the Firebender to get back on her feet. Because at least here in the infirmary, tucked away in Yokoya, she had people to keep her safe. She couldn’t get herself thrown into another life-threatening situation while she was still recuperating from the last one.

Kyoshi wouldn’t be the reason for Rangi’s obliteration.

And neither would Zoryu.

---

more coming soon! my commissions are open (and so is my ask box!)

[i-need-air]

I just read your nsfw Hybrid with Bakugou and it's SOOO PERFECT. So, I was thinking, imagine this: Relationships between hybrids and humans are still frowned upon and one of your co-workers begins to disturb you about dating Katsuki. You are annoyed, but you don't tell Bakugou until one day your co-worker tries to harass you (kiss you, pull your clothes off) saying "you shouldn't be with that damn DOG". You run away and come home crying and sobbing over and over. Giiirl, Bakugou will go FERAL. ❤

I'm so glad you liked it 💗💗💗💗💗 Yes, god, Bakugou would indeed be F E R A L indeed; ok, i started writing it and I somehow progressed this story further. MORE LORE TO HYBRID!BAKU. I also went with the flow, got very carried away and gave it a different ending to what you suggested, so I really hope you don't mind. 😅 It just happened, maybe made it darker than it should've been, oop—, BUT everything works out.

Warnings: mentions of attempted sexual assault;

Word count: 1.8k or so, I just keep adding stuff 💀;

[ Masterlist ] [ Part 1 and Part 2 of General Hybrid!Bakugou HCs. ]

× you weren't really hiding it because it was legal, yet some [ many ] were judgemental about it

× you also weren't publicly proclaiming it but whatever, that didn't stop you from putting a picture of Katsuki playfully biting your cheek as wallpaper on your phone

× one of your co-workers, Albert, was somewhat pushy

× while you got along with everyone and had an okay relationship with them, he wasn't part of your friends group

× yet you always found him near you everywhere, to which you paid no mind

× it was once he looked over your shoulder when you unlocked your phone to see that picture, and Katsuki's sandy ears could be seen

× again, you didn't hide it so when he asked who was that you just said your boyfriend

× "Uhm, your boyfriend is a... hybrid?" he asked making a face; that's when you knew Albert had to stay away for real

× you just smiled and minded your own business

× but throughout the days he kept dropping comments about, his attitude even pushier than before and you realized talking to him about it wouldn't help

× "is he any better than a normal man?"

× "like... I don't get it, [Y/N], he's a dog..." he'd whisper at you while on lunch break, baffled expression on his face

× you gave him a look of disgust, getting up from the table and going somewhere else; why the hell was he following you around?

× "seriously, tell me, is it the sex?" Albert asked hours later, following you to the exit, unaware of your absolutely uncomfortable responses as you quickened your steps, but he grabbed you by the arm, surprising you with his strength

× "if it's just the sex you better know there are some men, real men out there that can take good care of you, [Y/N]."

× you had to raise your voice for him to let go of you since heads started to turn towards both of you

× "Just drop it, Albert, it's none of your business!" you said before turning to leave

× when you walked through your apartment door you were rattled

× Katsuki walked through the door just as you prepared yourself a tea, shaking slightly, frown on your face

× "Hey, what's up?" he eyed you and sniffed the air, feeling you nervous, cup of tea almost spilling everywhere; "Hey, hey, hey, give me that. [Y/N], seriously, are you ok?"

× "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." you lied and he knew, it was obvious even if you pretended everything was dandy

× on the other side you didn't want to make him worry or anything, Albert was just annoying and hopefully he now understood where he was standing

× but Bakugou Katsuki ain't having it, babe, nuh-huh

× he didn't say anything else about it that day though, just acted as normal but prepared your favorite dinner and a warm bath for you

× the next day he decided to pick you up from work by just arriving there half an hour earlier and see if something is really up, to make sure you're fine and the issue is from there

× he'd have to walk there from his job and then you'd both drive home and it wasn't a problem as he'd do overtime some other day;;

× what he did not expect was to hear your scream of help from the wooden area behind the parking lot in your office building

× let's go back in time for context;

× you walked out of work in a rush, finishing earlier than anyone else, car as your destination just ready to bolt home; Albert was eyeing you funny the whole day but stayed behind, so you didn't know if to feel worried or relieved

× as you walked to your car and pulled your keys, someone smashed you against the door

× "ungrateful bitch" you recognized the voice instantly and froze

× before you could open your mouth he put his palm on it and dragged you somewhere

× you dropped everything on the cement, bag, keys, phone...

× of course you were putting a fight but he was strong

× "I tried to be nice, sweeheart—" he mumbled while struggling to drag you into the wooden area

× "I told you, yeah? You shouldn't be with that damned mutt!" he pushed you unto a tree, making his first and last mistake, because he freed your mouth

× "HELP!" you screamed while he started grabbing your clothes, ripping sounds could be heard

× "I'm gonna have to show you what a real man can give you—"

× and as if planets aligned, in a blurr, Bakugou Katsuki appeared, jumping straight on him and knocking him out instantly, a loud crack deafening your ears

× Katsuki was shaking in anger

× he barely could control his body, his eyes were bloodshot and he had the most feral scowl you'd ever seen on him

× you just trembled in place, grabbing your clothes to cover yourself as you could

× Albert groaned on the floor, twisting his body to turn around and see what attacked him and in a broken speech, blood coming out of his mouth, he attempted to swear, but Bakugou's growl made him freeze in realization

× he was about to pounce again, any self-control leaving his mind when you hugged him tight

× in your arms you could feel his ragged breath, a deep continuous growl still coming from within his chest

× at this point some other people heard your cries too and called the police

× meanwhile you tried to calm him down because you felt he wanted to murder that son of a bitch

× intention was clear in his eyes, even Albert stood there terrified, broken jaw forgotten as he tattered on the floor like a weak animal

× "If you ever fucking dare to look in [Y/N]'s direction again I will find you—" he said and you shivered, holding him even more tightly "—I will kill you." he tried to take a step further but you wouldn't let him "And I'll make sure your body is never found."

× sirens could be heard in the distance and after that everything passed fastly

× they took Albert away, who was muttering scrawled stuff, and took both of your statements

× much to everyone's surprise they didn't cuff Bakugou [ 💖because we live in a society💖 ] so that was a good thing;

× although you did have to go to the station; they found security camera footage of the attempted assault, which Katsuki had to watch and almost erupted in rage yet again

× but it all came to an end when you got home, both absolutely silent

× he was huffing and walking around the place, shoulders tense and hands fisted into balls

× just to distract himself he started cleaning around the house and not looking at you, while you still stood there with his jacket on staring at him

× it wasn't until he finally looked at you when he really took in your state

× until now you behaved exemplary, calming him down, giving a statement, just acting strong

× yet once you reached the comfort of your own home you just couldn't take it any longer

× tears were falling on your face, you were shaking in place at the entrance, hugging his jacket close to your body as if it were your salvation and you just watched him

× it dawned on him how his rage took over him so hard that he couldn't focus on anything else, not even your heartbeat, your scent, your breath

× in an instant he was all over you, hugging you tight and lifting you up

× "I got you, baby, you're safe now." He'd whisper in your ear as you'd pull him closer

× he'd prepare you a warm bath and never leave your side while whispering sweet nothings to you

× "I'm never leaving out of my sight again, do you understand?"

× "I'll kill him if he ever comes close to you."

× "You're safe." he'd say as pulled you into him

× you spent the following days at home as you were granted emergency leave from work and found out the bastard was, of course, fired and prosecuted

× it would've been a lengthy process but from there on some things changed between you

× he'd walk to your job from his, even changed his work hours to fit yours, and you'd go home together, for starters

× his behaviour changed and even if he still gave you the Special Bakugou Attitude, he was gentler and sometimes you'd catch him looking at you like you're the most precious thing ever

× he wouldn't really word it at first but seeing you like that and finding out it was basically because of him really fucked him up

× it would take you to remind him that it's not his fault he's a hybrid, you always want to be with him, you don't care what he is really and the only one to blame was Albert

× [ he'd growl whenever his name would be mentioned ]

× anyway, remember, he needs to be held just as much as you do and that guilt will take some time to wash away; you got each other's back and that's what mattered at the end of the day

× but the weirdest thing was, as you went to the police station some more times, Bakugou somehow impressed the Captain, Tsunadu Hakamada:

× "That dude reeks of cocaine." he'd scowl and point with a sharp glare at this cuffed man sitting in a corner, making you look at him in wonder

× "How do you—"

× "Excuse me, did I hear that correctly?" someone said behind you, making you turn towards a tall blond man in uniform watching your boyfriend curiously

× "Hah?"

× low and behold, he's the captain of the precinct and asked Bakugou to come by any other day noting it would be a pretty great opportunity that would benefit both

× [ and after some attitude and snide comments from Katsuki, he agreed ]

× you went through a lot in a few weeks, like the trauma you'd both have to work through together but one good thing that came out of this situation apart from putting a piece of shit in jail was that Bakugou was offered a position as a special officer in the precinct as long as he went through the academy as anyone else would

× people were starting to see the value of hybrids and the Captain wasn't one to let go of such an opportunity

× things were progressing little by little and it gave you hope for a better tomorrow with Katsuki by your side.

Notes: For those that don't know, Tsunadu Hakamada is Best Jeanist.

[theshelbyclan]

Family Secrets

Summary: Polly finally lets slip what the real Shelby curse is and as the youngest Shelby, with a little encouragement from John, you feel obligated to use it to your own advantage

(Gif by @mistress-gif​) A/N: I wrote this one when I couldn’t sleep, a long time ago, fuelled by my own frustration of being picked on as the youngest. This has been a headcanon of mine for ages and I finally put it to paper. I never had any intention of posting it, but because I’ve reached the 500 followers mark, I decided to share. It’s short, fluffy and a lot lighter than the actual series. Enjoy!

Words: 3220

*** 

“Give me the fucking book, John!” you bellowed through the kitchen. Your aunt was adamant that you’d all eat together, one day a week, on Sunday. These dinners were great and important, but they always ended in chaos. Tommy usually left early to get on with work, so he was never part of the sibling banter that ensued.

You had just finished eating and while Aunt Polly was busy clearing the dishes, you thought you could read a little. How wrong you were.

Holding the book out of your reach, the most annoying brother in the world was grinning broadly at you. “I will punch you in the fucking throat…” you threatened. This only made John laugh harder and he threw the book over your head towards Arthur who caught it nimbly. “How about me, little sister,” Arthur said playfully, “Are you going to cut me?” With a sigh you turned around and made another failed attempt at grabbing the book. Arthur threw the book back at John and a little game had started that you had no energy for. Still, you wanted that fucking book. “Forget the book, Y/N,” Ada commented from behind her own book, “Let them have their fun.”

But you were too stubborn for your own good, “I’ll be damned if I let them win…” which gave rise to more laughter from your brothers. So you grabbed the nearest tea towel and threw it in Arthur’s face. Before he could remove it, you pounced and actually felt the book beneath your fingers now. Polly paused her work and watched the scene with interest, partially because it was sweet, in a very Shelby manner, and partially because she wanted to put a stop to it before her kitchen got destroyed. You were so close, but Arthur grabbed you around your waist and managed to get the book back to John. Now you were well and truly stuck. “Right, what now?” he teased in a low voice. “Get the fuck off!” you screamed, when John walked over to you and dangled the book in front of you. Stretching out your arms as much as you could, you could almost reach it. But John, evil as he was, used his other hand to tickle your ribs and you immediately crumpled down in Arthur’s arms. The second brother soon joined in and now you were being attacked by two pairs of hands. You dissolved in a mess of giggles within seconds and there was nothing you could do. Sliding down onto the floor, with very little hope of rescue from your sister or aunt, you were at their mercy completely. And then, like some miracle, Ada intervened. She grabbed John by the collar and pulled him back. You gasped for breath as soon as you could. “She’s had enough, John,” Ada said sternly, “Back off, or you’re next.” Arthur looked down on you with a huge grin on his face, “Ada, we both know she can take much more than that…” “Noo!” you whined and without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you rolled away on your stomach across the kitchen until you bumped into your aunt. “Should’ve punched him in the throat,” she said softly to you. “Don’t be a baby!” John called out, “It’s your own fault.” “How the fuck is it my fault?” you replied indignantly from the floor. “For being so fucking sensitive,” John grinned. Arthur joined in, “That’s right. Just turn it off.” You rolled your eyes almost audibly. 

John scoffed and pushed Ada away, “You’re fourteen now, Y/N. Time to learn.”

Polly turned around swiftly, “Oh, like you ever did!”

“What?” your head shot up.

Ada looked at you with a smirk, “What, you thought you were the only one?”

As you got to your feet, Polly helped you up and said meaningfully, “That’s the real family curse, sweetheart.”

Years of them pinning you down and teasing you bubbled up in frustration, “Are you saying that I’ve been going through torture for all these years, thinking that it was just me, when all this time…”

Arthur shrugged, “You’re the youngest and smallest. Comes with the territory.” 

“Besides, we’re stronger,” John added smugly. He was right of course, which made it all the more annoying.

Polly threw down the washing cloth and theatrically said, “Welcome to the Shelby family, feared by all in Birmingham and where everyone is ticklish as fuck!” Your entire worldview had been altered in seconds. Apparently this wasn’t news to your siblings, because they all looked completely unimpressed by this bit of information, while you stood there with your mouth hanging open in surprise. After thinking about all of this for a while, you asked, “Even Tommy?” “When we were kids we used to make fun of him,” John recalled with a glint in his eyes, “It’s just his ribs, but if you poke him suddenly, he literally jumps.” “He went absolutely feral,” Arthur nodded. An idea was taking shape in your head, “Would that still work, you think?” “You’ll only get yourself killed,” Ada commented in her usual bored tone of voice. “Do it!” John urged, “Come Ada, you know she’ll get away with it.” You and John had always been the most mischievous in the family and you shared a look with a similar twinkle in your eyes. You finally knew something Tommy didn’t know. This was your one chance to catch Thomas Shelby by surprise. ***

For the next couple of days, you tried to get your brother alone. It was strange, because on the one hand you couldn’t wait to try out your plan. Envisioning how he would react was brilliant already, but the feeling of power you had was even greater. However, you also feared his reaction. Thomas Shelby was a busy man and he had very little time for anyone these days. When he did spend time with you, it was short and it often involved him reprimanding you. In all honesty, you were a little scared of him, but not scared enough to let a prank like this one go to waste. You’d deal with the consequences, whatever they were.

John might’ve been even more excited than you were and whenever Tommy left to go somewhere on his own, he motioned you frantically to follow him. Finding the right time proved almost impossible though. So you decided just to get on with it. This was the day you would find out if your brother shared the family curse. Unfortunately, he’d been in a bad mood all day. He’d called a family meeting at breakfast and had left quickly after that. They’d all reconvene in the evening. Dodging all your other responsibilities, you shadowed Tommy for most of the day, but he had one business meeting after the other. His mood was getting darker and darker, and you began to wonder if you were actually suicidal. But then, unexpectedly, you found yourself alone with him outside. “Y/N,” he said strictly, “Tell me what’s going on.” You’d come outside for some peace, because today was one of the busiest days at the shop and you’d had enough of the noise. Outside, you planned on reading your book and you’d forgotten about Tommy for a minute. Until he had appeared suddenly. “Nothing,” you said, looking up.

“Then why have you been following me all day, eh?” He sounded annoyed almost and all courage left you.

Improvising quickly, you said, “Missed you at dinner last Sunday.” “I was there,” he lit a cigarette and sat down next to you on the stone steps.

“For five whole minutes…”

“There was business to attend to.” “And there’s family to attend to as well,” you replied, without missing a beat. Silently, he side-eyed you and a small smirk played around his lips, “You’re right, I’ll do better next week. Am I forgiven?” “No,” you feigned anger. He turned his head towards you and he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

The bond you had with Tommy was a complicated one. In many ways you were very similar, but the war had changed him the most. Sometimes you felt like you’d lost him completely, when you thought of how you used to talk and laugh with him when you were younger. These moments were so rare now. And these exact thoughts did the trick and you decided that you had to be the one to make that old Tommy come back, if only a little. So you said a silent prayer, decided not to overthink it and poked him in the ribs once. The effect was immediate. Thomas Shelby shot up and nearly rocketed himself off the steps. With a wild look of betrayal he turned his eyes on you and you almost burst out laughing.   “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked innocently.

He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair and sat back down. Apparently, we’re pretending this never happened, you thought. 

A few seconds of awkward silence later, you poked him again. This time, a small yelp escaped him. The most feared gangster in Birmingham yelped, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing any longer. 

As you were still trying to regain composure, Tommy pointed at you with a menacing finger, “Do that again and you will not live to tell the fucking tale.” You could only snort in reply. He was trying so hard to act all scary and while that had an effect on most people, you just couldn’t be bothered right now: It was too funny. Besides, you thought you could detect just a hint of mirth behind those pale blue eyes and decided to risk everything on just that.

“I mean it, Y/N,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows, “Do it again, I fucking dare you, and see what happens.” So you did it again. 

In a flash, he was up and dove for you. But you were faster and jumped out of the way. Like the two of you were a part of a bad play, you started circling each other around the small yard. Neither said a word and seconds felt like hours. Then Arthur called from inside the house, “Tom!”

“You called a family meeting,” you reminded him, while relaxing a little at the prospect of escape.

Tommy’s eyes stayed on you and he cleared his throat again, “Fuck, alright. You’re coming with me.” And he lifted you up and threw you over one shoulder. Your shrieks filled the house as he walked through the betting den, over to the table where the family was already gathered, with you still on his shoulder. Without blinking, the leader of the Peaky Blinders announced, “Right, well you’re all here. Let’s talk business quickly…” Aunt Polly pointed vaguely at your arse, which was sticking up in the air, “You do realise you have my niece in your arms?” “Well aware, Poll,” Tommy continued, like it was the most normal thing in the world, “Business! We’ve done well this week. John’s shown me the books and we’re making more money than ever. Next week, we’re buying a new horse and I’m going to race her.” Flabbergasted, the family stared at Tommy. You could see the million questions on their faces, but they decided to wait until he was done talking. You had also refrained from protesting by now. “Poll, as treasurer I need your permission to buy the horse.” She blinked a few times and mumbled, “Buy the horse. Y/N‘s still…” Tommy held up a hand, “Not finished,” and everyone closed their mouths again, “John, I need you to talk to that old widow down the road. She’s recently lost her son and she should become part of our fund. Arthur, for fucks sake, get the books from the Garrison in order.” “It’s those bloody numbers, Tom…” Arthur grumbled in reply. “Are we all clear on what to do?” Tommy finished off in a hurry. When no one replied, he answered for them, “Good!” With this he plucked you down from his shoulder and held you in his arms bridal style. With a grave and business-like tone he announced, “As you all know, this is Y/N Shelby, youngest member of the family. While we were away in France, she kept the fort and she has often provided us with some relief in times of stress ever since we’ve come back. But not anymore.” John started to get nervous and looked from you to Tommy. Had they gone too far this time? But then he saw Arthur grinning and even Ada had a small smile on her face, so he knew Tommy was only playing. “Gentlemen,” Tommy continued, “This is the day that Y/N Shelby dies. Say goodbye to your sister.”

And that’s when you decided not to await your fate, so you made a sudden movement and jumped out of Tommy’s arms. Dashing past the table, you sought refuge behind Polly’s back. 

“Told you this would happen, Y/N,” Ada said, not helping at all.

For some reason, Polly got up and left the room, while stating triumphantly, “The secret’s out, Thomas. Deal with it.” Now you just had an empty chair for protection. Tommy pointed at you directly and practically growled, “And it’s going back in.” With three of the largest steps he was at your side once again.

So you held up your hands, “Okay, wait, I can explain.”

“Too late, little sister,” Tommy said in a low voice, “These are family secrets that are not spoken of.”

“You’re such a drama queen, Tommy,” your sister commented, while getting up to leave. And all you could think was: why would you leave me alone with these mad bastards?

You really should’ve known better but decided to go for the cocky approach, “There’s no point in trying to scare me now, Tommy, knowing what I know.” You raised your eyebrows in an attempt to show him you were still in control. You weren’t. In a flash he’d tackled you to the floor and had you pinned down, while whispering ominously, “You picked the wrong brother to fuck with, Y/N Shelby.”

And for the second time in a week, you cursed your own sensitive skin as dexterous hands attacked your sides. Incapable of little but laughing and screaming, you flailed around hopelessly. Tommy’s face was slowly softening into a smile as well.

“Tommy!” you pleaded between giggles, “It was John, not me!” “Was it now?” he taunted without stilling his fingers, “And who was the fool to listen to his ideas, eh?” He moved up to your ribs, which made the pitch of your laughter increase. “Toohoohoom! Wait!”

Now, it was no secret that your major weakness in life was your sensitivity. Usually it was John who took the most advantage of it, being the mad joker that he was, but he often got Finn or Arthur to join in. Arthur on his own could be absolutely brutal, which was due to his strength as well, so there was no hope for you at all. Ada didn’t bother much, but when she did, she was merciless, much like Polly. But Tommy, he was a whole other story. You didn’t have many moments like this with him anymore, but when he did play and did get his hands on you, it was hell. He knew exactly how to reduce you to a small heap of giggles, pleading for your life and regretting all life choices up to that point. And this was happening right now. His smile was widening and he shook his head, “You thought you could beat me, eh?” “Yeheeeheees,” you admitted. Then he stopped for a second, allowing you to breathe, “Alright, you little devil, I’ll give you one a chance to speak.”

Residual giggles were pouring from your mouth, “Never… listen… to… John.” Tommy looked up at his younger brother who was showing zero remorse on his face, and he nodded slowly, “Good. What else?” “I’ve learned that Thomas Shelby sounds like a girl when…” but you never got to finish that sentence, as he continued his assault.

“Wrong answer. And you are way to ticklish to have an attitude like that, Y/N,” he said calmly. 

As he dragged your arms up and dug his hands under your arms, you squeezed your eyes shut, “NOOOO, I’M SOOHOORYYY!” “Are you?” he asked, now smiling broadly at your reaction, “Then tell me what you’ve fucking learned from this, eh?” “YOU DON’T FUCK WITH THE PEAKY BLINDERS!” you managed to shout out between laughs. “That’s right,” Arthur commented, watching the scene while sitting back in his chair, “Finally, she gets it.” Tommy paused and looked at both of his brothers, as if he was waiting for their verdict. “Nah,” John decided to cause more trouble, “I don’t think she has…” Still struggling unsuccessfully to get out of Tommy’s grasp, you shouted, “John, shut your fucking mouth or I swear to God…” Tommy rolled his eyes and interrupted you, “Get her, boys,” he called out, “Let’s teach our sister some respect for her brothers.” So now there were three brothers trying to keep you in place, while you were being tickled from all sides. Why did you listen to John? Why did you not know better than to challenge Tommy? Spluttering, kicking and fighting like crazy, you managed to kick them a little bit at least, but the fact that they were all grinning down on you still meant that it didn’t help much. 

Tears leaking out of your eyes, you shrieked, “YOOOUAAHAHAH AHAHAHALL SUAHAHACK!”

Then Tommy stopped them and crossed his arms in front of him. The amusement was twinkling in his eyes, “Had enough?” “Yep,” you said quickly, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Whatever Polly has told you,” he widened his eyes and brought his face close to yours, “Family secrets are not spoken of.” “Fine!” you called out, “They’re not spoken of.” His smile grew again, “Remember this, Y/N. And remember this was nothing compared to what we can do and what I will do, if you ever feel the need to cross Thomas fucking Shelby again.” You got up, again, and brushed yourself off while sending a death-stare to each of your brothers. But when Tommy smiled at you, there was a certain warmth to it that you hadn’t seen in ages.

“Wankers…” you mumbled carefully. Tommy smirked slightly, “You brought this upon yourself, Y/N. Now you know what happens…” “…when you fuck with the Peaky Blinders. Bladibladibla…” you finished his sentence. Making your way to the door, you turned back for a moment, “To be fair, Tommy, I did just saw you jump up about a foot because you’re actually fucking ticklish. So much for the whole gangster act, I should say.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed, John burst out laughing and Arthur managed to shout out a quick “Oi!” And before anyone could react, you sprinted away. Somehow, this still felt like a victory. Sure, you were the youngest and probably the most sensitive in the family, but you had discovered your own weapon now. John would be next, just for setting you up. Arthur would involve more planning. But finding Tommy’s weakness, that was the real triumph. Behind you, you could hear Tommy sit down and sigh, “Well, boys, we’re well and truly fucked now…”

And you grinned to yourself. The game was on.

***

Masterlist