#the school lectures are so useless i have to learn the whole thing from the lecture notes myself

[certified-shellfishhater]

fuck vectors guys. fuck vectors and their 3 dimensions and their endless number of rules and their stupid dots and stupid scalars and their stupid areas of triangles.

[leftnotright]

A TEXTBOOK EDUCATION

"This will be a skill-building experience. You've had it too easy. You've had your Family name to back you, and your Right Hand at your every call. It's time you learn to carry yourself, to build from the ground up." Dino Cavallone, the Cavallone Don, fresh out of high school.

Reborn, the deadliest hitman of the modern era, has a special kind of torture up his sleeve for his dear struggling student. Dino will have to see how well he handles alienation, isolation, and worst of all, class participation. “Now, go on, my useless student Dino. Let’s continue your education.” (Or: Reborn sends Dino to Australia. It goes better than he could have ever hoped.)

Parings: N/A Characters: Dino (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Vic Hunt (OC - Original Character), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Romario (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!)Cavallone Famiglia, Enzo (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Original Characters Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, University, Pre-Canon, Financial Issues, Fluff And Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CHAPTER 4: AND THEY COME UNSTUCK

The TV - ‘’tele’ as they called it - was playing the morning news on channel 7. Dino had been listening to it since he had rolled out of bed, too sweaty and stressed to get any decent sleep. Fittingly, the news show was called ‘Sunrise’ and Dino had been watching since then, listening to the news and how they spoke about everything. 

There is a fire - ‘bushfire’ - in Penrith, firefighters were trying to keep it under control. Up in New Castle, there was a surfing event. Parliament was discussing the pensioner retirement age. Fundraisers were being held at multiple Bunnings for the NSW Regional Firefighting Service after a particularly bad fire season.

“I think I might pop down for a sausage sizzle,” the blond woman chimed in after the segment, “Been a while since I’ve had one’a those.”

“One’a those,” Dino echoed absently as he moved his pen along a line of text.

Calendar reminder: EDST1001 LECTURE 11:30AM

Dino paused his ledgers and looked at his phone as it beeped on the table. He had spent the whole morning pouring over the few documents he had left from the Cavallone offices, trying to quell that anxiety that bubbled in his stomach and made sleep hard. He only had a few documents left, most of them were copies of the original documents back at the Cavallone. Receipts, mostly, and barters for the last bits of furniture and assets the Cavallone could afford to sell off. 

Everything, spare what was bolted down or irreplaceable, had been sold already. It had left the halls of his home barren. Gone were the antique paintings, gilded statues and handwoven carpets. And gone was much of the Cavallone’s prestige with it. 

A Family selling off their history. 

He sighed and rubbed his nape, free of sweat for the first time since he had landed in this ‘sunburnt land’. That air conditioning truly was his saviour.

Calendar reminder: Meet Vic U-Bar Courtyard 3PM

Dino blinked. Then he gave a sharp heave of panic as he remembered that, yes, he had indeed promised to meet up with Vic today.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, he was just meeting a friend it was going to be okay he didn’t need to panic like this it was just his only peer friend in years and he wasn’t going to screw this up he promised-

Enzo snapped at Dino’s toe and make him jump out of his minor mental breakdown. 

“Ow!” Dino yelped and yanked his foot away from the turtle. “I’ll go to the grocer’s today, so stop!”

Enzo wheezed at him accusingly before slowly turning and began the long plod to his newly found sunbathing patch. 

Dino frowned at Enzo’s back while cradling his toe until his phone buzzed again, warning him he only had an hour until his lecture. He grappled with his drawers and pulled on his most civilian of clothes, feeling blessedly comfortable in a white shirt and cargo shorts.

One thing Dino loved about university was the lack of uniforms. He didn’t think he’d survive this heat with the blazer, vest and tie he wore in high school. He had barely survived yesterday in that suit-

Dino clapped his hands loudly as if to scare off that memory and the incredulous looks of his classmates. He hadn’t had time to change for his Econ class either, but without a tutorial, he had managed to hide in the back rows of his lecture’s amphitheatre without drawing too much attention.

But he had learnt his lesson: No mafia suits in civilian classes.

Dino rubbed his stomach absently as he made his way back to the living room. He hadn’t been eating well since coming to Australia. Hell, the largest meal he had so far was that KFC with Vic and, as she said, it had enough salt to season the sea. He really needed to go to a grocer.

He hated to admit it, but he was procrastinating going to that ‘Woolies’ Vic had mentioned before. He didn’t feel confident in his English enough to go alone, and Dino had - well, he had never bought something in person before. Everything was done by middlemen, through order or pre-emptively in bulk. He’d never bought a carrot before! Could you buy a single carrot? Or did they only come in 20-kilogram packages? Dino didn’t know what he’d do with 20 kilograms of carrots!

Dino filled up a cup with water and took a long drink to calm his nerves before he thought himself into yet another panic attack on this fine, totally normal morning. He took his pills and proceeded to drink another glass of water to fill his stomach until lunch. 

Dino checked the clock on the wall and quickly shoved the last of his schoolwork into his briefcase. He needed a more civilian bag damn it, he stood out too much with this thing since it was from his high school days.

White tee-shirt, cargo shorts, joggers and a briefcase. What a sight Dino must be.

Before Dino walked out the door, his anxiety beckoned him to apply another layer of antiperspirant deodorant. Sweating so much yesterday had kind of traumatised him. He needed to figure out how to clean his suit.

Enzo wheezed when Dino picked him up off the floor but slid into the cargo short’s thigh pocket without fuss. For good measure, Dino tossed a few of his pellets in too before pressing the velcro shut. 

The trees of Wally’s Walk did little to block the swelter of midday Summer, and Dino pulled at his collar to air out his shirt. He checked his phone again to find his classroom, Building 27, the Lotus Theatre. 

“Fancy,” Dino muttered to himself and moved towards the cul-de-sac end of the Walk. 

There was a crowd of students loitering outside building 27, and Dino was quick to join them, standing off to the side to allow the traffic to flow between. He let his eyes scan the crowd, feeling much more at ease with how he blended in. No one was staring this time. Excellent. 

Dino pulled his briefcase closer and pulled out his phone, content to just scroll on the news apps for the next fifteen minutes or so. He was halfway through an article about something called the Powerhouse Museum of Science being moved to a Parramatta location when he felt eyes on him.

Carefully, Dino flicked his eyes to the side, using his peripherals to see who was watching him so intently. If they were a hitman, they were doing one hell of a bad job. What kind of assassin allowed their presence to be so obvious- Oh .

He lifted his head and waved, smiling with a sheepish relief. Vic stood at the edge of the crowd, and came over when she was acknowledged.

Reborn must really have done a number on him. 

“Oh hello,” Vic hummed as she came to a stop next to him, and Dino didn’t miss the quick once-over she gave him with her eyes. “I see we’re going casual this time.”

“Please don’t talk about yesterday,” Dino withered and Vic let out a laugh.

“Kay, got it,” she assured and shifted her weight again. “So we’ve got the same class again today, huh? EDST101?”

“Yeah, I’m happy we are together again,” Dino smiled, putting his phone away to pay full attention to Vic. “What time is your tutorial? Are we together as well?”

“I’m in the 2 o’clock group.”

“Ah, we are not. I am the 1 o’clock group.”

“Fuck,” Vic sighed forlornly and crossed her arms.

Dino tilted his head when he noticed she was wearing another faded band tee, adorning the same logo and name as the last one with a different design. Maybe it was her favourite band? It was a talking point!

“What, uh, song, is that?” Dino asked, pointing to Vic’s shirt.

“Song? Oh,” Vic looked down at her shirt and opened her arms to show the logo splashed across her chest, Smoking Cucumbers. “It’s my cousin’s heavy metal anarchist band. Don’t really know how the anarchist plays into it, but he insists it does. Gives me a shirt for New Years nearly every year.”

“That’s nice of him,” Dino uttered, “Are they good?”

Vic made a noise and rocked her head from side to side, looking off into the distance as she visibly thought about it. 

“Varying quality,” she decided to say.

“I see,” Dino chuckled, then he shifted his weight and reached for the next topic. “Do you have a large family?”

Family, that was a familiar topic. Dino could talk about Family easy! 

“Nah, not really, I’ve only got a brother. But the cousins add up, you know?” She shrugged, “I’ve got like, uh, six cousins from my dad’s side. The youngest is nearly seven months old, I’m going to meet him during semester break.”

Dino smiled as Vic fished around to show a picture from her phone. A child, cute as a button, was cradled in the centre of a mass of pillows, arms and legs askew like it had fallen asleep mid-crawl attempt.

“Ant’s so adorable. He looks like a fucking blobfish,” she cooed and Dino couldn’t help the snort of startled laughter. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

“My Family is large. The house is always busy,” Dino started, recalling all the faces he was so used to waking up to every morning. Oh, he missed those faces. “I have no siblings, but many uncles and brothers.”

Vic blinked at that and Dino smiled sheepishly, wondering if he had misspoken somewhere. She didn’t interrupt, however, so Dino continued. Talking about his Family was cathartic, and made the overbearing sun, innumerable people and unfamiliar terrain, all seem less horrible for a moment.

“Romario looks after me well. I am sure he is the reason I survived so long.” Not that Reborn didn’t try to stop that, with all those bombs and bullets. “My father introduced him to me when I was young, we have been together since.”

He remembered that day, so many years ago. He had clutched the ends of his coat and fought to stand still, surrounded by five of his father’s Guardians as they stood at attendance for the Don’s return. His father arrived with a teen trailing behind him, scuffed up and covered in grass seeds and dust like he had crawled out from the barley fields that surrounded the Cavallone estate. 

“Brutus means well, but he is, uh, a bad influence,” Dino chuckled, recalling how Brutus had ridden a mattress down the spiral staircase and broke through the railing. “He has been with us for a few years now. Growing tall. Too tall.”

That last comment was said with its fair share of bitterness. Brutus liked to use Dino as an armrest in casual settings these days. No respect!

Vic smiled as he grumbled at the memory, another one of her snorted laughs bursting forward.  

“Are you the youngest, or..?”

Dino frowned more, “Brutus is the youngest. Everyone is upset.”

Vic wheezed a laugh and pocketed her phone before rocking back on her heels and asked, “Anyone else of note?”

“Too many,” Dino hummed softly, “I hope to see them soon.” Then he winced and let out a weak laugh, “Ah, but I am sure they will make me pay back all my missed turns in stable work.”

Vic blinked and then squinted a bit, like she was trying to piece together what he had said. Dino watched her for a moment before it dawned on him: Vic didn’t know about the Cavallone Family’s main stock.

“My family breed horses. I will be missing my turns to help in the horse stables. We rotate.”

Vic’s face twitched, then she snorted out, “So, you’re like an equestrian?”

“Uh, I was part of my high school’s equestrian club, yes?” 

The girl sighed through her nose and reached up to massage her forehead as she muttered out, “My God, he’s a horse girl too.”

“Horse girl?” Dino echoed.

“Have you ever watched something called The Saddle Club?”

Dino shook his head and Vic made a dismissing wave of her hand, before turning her head as the crowd began to move, a slow and steady flow of students pouring into the amphitheatre. 

“Time to move,” she uttered and the two of them wriggled their way through the mass of sweaty students. 

Dino winced as a girl's tote bag poked into his arm, and then nearly fumbled his walk as the first step of an incline surprised him. He wheezed and gave a sheepish smile as someone in the crowd gave him a withering glance.

Vic chose somewhere to sit and Dino trailed after her, eager to get out of the river of slow-moving bodies that shuffled along unsurely. They pulled their chair seats down and spent a good few seconds fighting with their flip-up desks before settling down.

“Wow, yours is a bit fucked,” Vic commented as she looked to the hazardous angle Dino’s laptop was teetering on, no doubt only held there by the non-slip pads. 

“It’s…a bit weak. But it will hold,” Dino agreed feebly, trying to realign his desk.

“Nah, nah, mate, not with your luck. Move before that thing snaps.”

Dino fiddled with his desk for a moment longer before making the short shuffle to Vic’s other side. It felt disconcerting, to be stuck in the aisle now. Vic was blocking an easy exit, whether she intended to or not. Dino could feel that anxiety all the way in the bottom of his feet.

Someone behind Dino coughed loudly, before they gathered their stuff and moved a few seats away, still clearing their throat. Dino noticed Vic watch them out of the corner of her eye, a vague grimace on her face.

“But hey,” she uttered suddenly before Dino could ask what the issue was, turning back to idly click around on her laptop to get an empty Word document up for notes. “This way, you’re less likely to get called on for audience participation!”

Dino blinked, then he gave a relieved smile and rested back into his seat. 

“Yeah, that’s…That’s a good point.”

“Yeah, but fuck we’ve still gotta talk during the tutorials. We’ve gotta talk at least once per session to get that twenty percent.”

Dino dropped his head back with a groan. 

Before either of them could say much more, however, the large screens at the front of the amphitheatre lit up with the introduction slide of a powerpoint and a woman took centre stage. The lecture rolled on with the same amount of ease as the others, just another orientation lesson to get the students used to their first week in university and what would be expected of them in the coming weeks. Dino was starting to get more confident with his English comprehension, since a lot of the classes were repeating similar content and using the same phrases.

They were maybe half an hour in, Dino centring all his focus on breaking down the word ‘pedagogy’ when he heard, in the softest and most bamboozled voice possible: “Dino, is that a fucking turtle in your pocket?” 

Dino’s head snapped around and then looked down to see Enzo’s little head peering out from under the flap of his pant pocket, beady eyes peering back at Vic. Dino wheezed and shoved the flap down, trying to cover up Enzo from prying eyes. 

“Uuh,” Dino uh-ed.

“Dino, why is there a turtle in your pocket?” Vic asked again.

Dino fumbled for an answer, before he just shrugged and said, “Well, I, I couldn’t leave him at home alone.”

“But to a lecture?”

“Hey, could you two stop? It’s really distracting.” A young man sitting ahead of them grumbled and Vic quickly tossed out an apology.

Enzo let out a wheeze and wriggled his way to freedom again, head poking out into the fresh air of the air-conditioned amphitheatre. Dino rushed to hide Enzo again, but Vic quickly bent at the waist and cooed in delight.

“No wait, lemme see the baby,” she whispered and pushed the flap away to get a good look at the small tortoise that squinted back at her. “Oh, hello little man!”

Dino watched as Vic reached out and gently pet Enzo’s head with her pointer, grinning like some kind of loon as she did. He thinned his lips in a moment of thought, before Dino reached into his other pocket and produced a small handful of pellets.

“Do you,” he began slowly, unsure but hopeful. “Do you want to feed Enzo, Vic?”

Vic looked up at Dino and utterly beamed. 

Dino kept that in mind: Vic likes feeding Enzo. Good, good, he had a way to socialise now. Enzo truly was the best wingman. 

Dino smiled down at Enzo who was quietly crunching on his pellets. The little turtle squinted up at him. 

  ☁ ☁ ☁

Vic Hunt Class done

Vic Hunt Do you still have Enzo?

Dino Cav Yes

Vic Hunt On my way!!

Dino snorted into his hand and sent a quick laughing emoticon in response. He had already chosen a table for them to sit at for their meeting, a shaded table outside one of the courtyard’s student cafes, off to the side and more isolated than the others. It was most likely for studying, Dino liked the privacy. 

Enzo sat snugly in his pocket happily fed after all those snacks from Vic during their lecture. Dino smiled to himself and patted his pocket, feeling that hard shell. The most secure weight.

“Show me the baby,” Vic demanded as she rounded the corner and dropped herself in the chair across from Dino. 

Not even a hello? Dino couldn’t blame her though, no one could resist Enzo. Spoilt rotten that little turtle was. 

Dino huffed and glanced around, before sliding Enzo out of his pocket and onto the table between them. He stretched his arm out on the exposed side of the table, covering Enzo up just in case.

Immediately, Vic dropped down to Enzo’s height and started cooing, murmuring unintelligible little noises at the turtle. She grinned and giggled as she watched Enzo plod about the table, quietly exploring the area with his usual squint of suspicion. 

“Look at his little feets!” Vic nearly gasped and Dino couldn’t help the snort of laughter. “Oh shut it, Dino. All that talk of horses, why didn’t you mention the turtle in your pocket! ”

“I don’t know… Enzo didn’t come to mind?” Dino offered unsurely. He hadn’t meant to not mention Enzo, it was just that Enzo was such a constant for Dino that he honestly didn’t realise that someone wouldn’t know about Enzo at this point. 

“How did you even get the allowance to bring him?”

…Allowance? Dino blinked. He didn’t know anything about an allowance.

The silence stretched on until finally, Vic looked up, a smile creeping onto her face. 

“Dino, did you smuggle your turtle into the village?” She asked.

Dino thinned his lips before he slowly murmured, “No one told me I couldn’t .” Vic grinned then, something vicious and joyful with so many teeth. “That is to say,” Dino continued, trying to explain himself for breaching university rules. “I need Enzo. I go nowhere without him. I need him.”

Vic let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, before giving a shrug and leant back in her chair. 

“Hey, no skin off my back. It’s not like lil’ Enzo here’s gonna damage the room for the next student. Not like some dog or cat.”

Dino relaxed a bit when she said that, a tension in his shoulders seeping out. Dino admitted it, he hadn’t met many civilians in his time. Most of his social circle consisted of Mafia and their middlemen, the people he knew were utterly steeped in the criminal underworld. 

Maybe it was his naivete getting the better of him, an opinion from childhood he had never had the chance to rectify -- Dino thought of civilians as a rather pure existence. Morally right, law-abiding citizens of the world to counterbalance the presence of the Mafia. 

Dino had broken university policy. A horrified little part of him was sure that Vic would be appalled by his blatant disregard for the established order-

Dino let a long breath out through his nose, slow and steady. It was fine, though. Vic didn’t care. The rules weren’t so cut and dry in the civilian world. Within limitations, of course. 

Vic shifted in her seat, and pulled her computer up onto the table just aside of Enzo. She booped him on the nose for good measure, unaware of the stress Dino had gone through. 

“Anyway, I did a bit of work last night and I think I know what I’m going to be talking about.” She said, and opened a tab to start scribing ideas. “But I kinda wanna talk about your activity. The resources one.”

Dino tried his best to join the discussion as the two began to finally dig into their assessment. Vic scrolled through her document and showed Dino what she had scraped together the night before, which was honestly an obscene amount.

“Uniforms?” Dino asked, seeing how the word was bolded as a heading.

“Yeah, in Australia uniforms are mandatory for Primary and High schools,” Vic explained, “It’s to more of less, stop students from seeing the difference in status. Like if one kid came in fucking Gucci, and another comes in second-hand Kmart. Uniforms stop that shit.”

Dino hummed and thought back to his school, they had worn uniforms too. And they were right, you couldn’t really tell who was from a better Family -- if you were using clothes as a tell. Posture, presence and poise. Those all could tell just how large a gap there was between Families. And the Dons who led them.

Vic continued to scroll to her next point, and Dino scooped Enzo into his hands, thumbing at the edge of his shell to try and soothe himself. 

“I’ve also got ‘homework assistance’ and tutoring.”

Dino’s eyes snapped up from Enzo at the word. ‘Tutor’. God, that sent chills to his very core. 

“People with money can afford to send their kids to better schools, and can afford to support their kids with, ya know, tutoring. Basically, the better off the parents, the better off the kids.”

Dino thinned his lips. It was true, Dino had no doubt that the smaller Families wouldn’t have been even able to dream of having the Reborn as a live-in tutor. He didn’t even want to think about how much of the Cavallone funds must have gone into the little devil-man’s pockets just so he could torture Dino day in and day out for the past year. 

“We got this yesterday,” Dino muttered quietly, almost unwittingly.

Dino could see why Vic wanted to be a teacher, she obviously felt strongly about the imbalances in the education system. Direct action, it seemed very up her alley.

Vic blinked, and then she shrank back in her chair a bit. She gave a huffed little smile and shrugged, sheepishly and kind of drowsy.

“But yeah, that’s just my idea for my part,” she said idly, “And I think it’ll segway nicely into your activity. So, uh, how’re you going with your intro?”

Dino winced, “I have not, ah, started it yet.” Gosh, Vic had already produced all of this and Dino hadn’t even looked over the assessment properly yet. Dino traced the pattern in Enzo’s shell. “English, is, uh, not my strong skill.” 

Vic made a short noise of understanding on the back of her throat, before she gave her own work a look-ver as if to see it in a new light.

“I will have to begin in Italian, and move to English,” Dino said slowly, and Vic waved her hand at him.

“Hey, whatever floats your boat and gets the job done. Do what makes you comfy,” she shifted on her seat and tugged on the end of her shorts before uttering off-handedly, “And, ya know, if you need help, I can lend a hand with those dickish words like ‘pedagogy’ and shit.”

 Vic pointedly looked away from Dino as she said this, eyes fixed on her document that she scrolled through to give her hands something to do. 

Dino blinked, then quickly said, “I don’t want to be a bother!”

“Nah, no, it’s ‘right,” Vic insisted lazily, and took a drink from her thermos. 

Dino could hear ice rattling around inside. God, that was a good idea.

Vic and Dino leant across the table to look at Vic’s computer screen, organising a file for the project. Vic pulled up a powerpoint and wrote ‘SOCIAL CLASS IN EDUCATION by Dino, Jessica and Vic’.  

“Great, that’s enough work. I think we’re due a break,” Vic said and closed her computer.

Dino decided not to point out the fact that they had only been ‘working’ for a total of maybe 10 minutes, and that the most progress had been naming and sharing the group slideshow. 

“Okay,” Vic said suddenly, breaking Dino out of his thoughts as she stood up. “I’mma go get some lunch. You coming?”

Dino grabbed Enzo up off the table and stuffed him into his pocket. Vic stared with wide eyes before she glanced between the pocket and Dino’s face and asked, “Is he, uh, always in there?”

“Usually, I keep Enzo in a breast pocket,” he answered, before patting his chest and added, “Over the heart.”

Enzo’s shell was practically indestructible. Nothing short of Reborn’s Chaos Shots could pierce it. 

“Aw, that’s fuckin’ sweet,” Vic chortled.

By the time Dino and Vic sat down again, they were balancing their chosen meals in their hands. Dino carefully slid his salad and chips plate onto the table, and watched Vic quickly slurp some of the excess butter chicken gravy from the edge of her plate before doing the same. Vic wasted no time in drumming the tabletop with her hands until Dino ‘produced the goods’.

Enzo immediately stole a whole leaf of lettuce from Dino’s salad.  

“ Smettila, Enzo! ” Dino scolded but didn’t try to take the leaf away from the happily munching turtle. 

Vic smiled at the little turtle before using the handle end of her fork to tap on the side of the bottle of water Dino had bought. It was wet with perspiration and creating a puddle on the table with every jolting tap; just as shiny as Dino was.

“Drink, mate, you’re sweating buckets,” Vic urged with a frown. 

She was right. Dino wiped his chin with his arm and grimaced as sweat just smeared on both sides. Dino was as shiny as a newly minted coin, and the back of his shirt clung to his spine, two shades darker than the rest of it. He made an expression of great sensory discomfort as he sat forward to try and peel it off. Australian heat was very different to the Sicilian summers Dino was used to.

“Yes,” Dino murmured and took a sip from his bottle. By the time he put it back down, more than half was gone. 

“You gotta be sun-safe, or I’ll slip-slop-slap a bitch,” Vic warned. Dino stared at Vic for a long moment, before the girl reeled back a bit and asked, “Wait, you know about the slip-slop-slap sun thing yeah? Or is- wait, fuck of course that’s an Aussie thing.” 

Dino smiled as the girl rubbed her face in a mixture of frazzle and embarrassment. 

“I, uh, will be ‘sun-safe’,” he said, “I do not want to be ‘slip-slop-slapped’.”

Vic blinked, and then she grinned with teeth. 

“Okay, but what’s up with the horses?” Vic asked and then spooned a generous helping of rice into her mouth. 

Dino paused halfway through another guzzle of water.

“The horses?”

“Yeah, like, you breed ‘em, right? What for though?” 

Dino quickly swallowed the water that had dammed up in his mouth. He settled back in his chair and smiled a bit, idly spinning his bottle on the table with his fingers.

“Uh, we- we breed them for… Well, every job. Labour, farm, carriage, show. We used to make war horses.”

Vic made a sharp whistle of surprise and leant her cheek against her hand, elbow on the table. Dino stared at it, her elbow on the table, for a moment, before he pulled his eyes up. 

“Warhorses? So, this is like a tradition thing. Family business?” 

‘Family business’. Dino withheld a snort, he smiled weakly and said, “Yes, for at least ten generations.” 

“ Whew, that’s some old blood,” Vic wheezed.

Dino smiled and remembered the history walks down the legacy hall. Walls adorned with past Dons, and those faded faces of the nameless patriarchs who tilled the fields and corralled wild horses long before the time of the Cavallone Famiglia Mafia. 

“We are proud of our horses,” Dino said, an undeniable truth. But it was an undeniable truth also that- “Horses, however, are not very- very, useful. Today.”

Vic winced, “Ah, yeah. With cars and all.” She took a slow bite of her curry and tilted her head. “So with all those horses, surely your family, like, races them? Got any cool ones…” Her voice trailed off as Dino’s face pinched.

Dino ran his thumb along the edge of Enzo’s shell, the little turtle squinted up at him. 

“We are banned. No Cavallone horse may race in Italy.”

Vic thinned her lips and scraped her wooden, disposable spoon along her plate, drawing a random shape with the orange, butter chicken gravy.

“Can I… Can I ask why? Or would you rather just, ya know,” she made a waving motion with her hands. “Not talk about that.”

Dino let out a frail burst of a laugh that was equal parts bitter and vindictive.

“We kept winning.”

Vic paused, and looked at Dino. Looked at the way Dino’s smile had gritted teeth in the corners.

Vic gave a bark of laughter. 

“So instead of beating you fairly, they booted you?” She asked and leaned forward. 

Dino took in a sharp breath. Despite her tone, her smile wasn’t playful. It had an edge to it. Annoyed. Frustrated. Angry. Vic was angry. For some reason. 

But, Dino quickly scanned her over, not at him. Always good, always good!

“Cavallone horses are hard to beat. Very,” Dino explained and Vic scoffed hard enough that Dino thought she hurt her throat.

“Look, unless you’re doping your horses, I don’t see why you should be kicked.”

Dino shrugged, “Our horses are special.”

“I’m not fucking surprised! You’ve been working on them for over ten fucking generations!” 

Vic pinched the bridge of her nose, before Dino watched as Vic clenched her teeth, her biceps, her forearms, her fists, then all the way back up again. Then, like she was suddenly exhausted, Vic slumped back into her chair, shoulders sagging under her loose shirt. She let out a long, slow sigh through her nose. She smiled and started cooing at Enzo.

Dino stared, baffled. What the hell had happened there? Had she gotten so upset that she had to actively calm herself down?

Dino shifted in his seat. He looked down at his salad -- slowly being stolen one leaf at a time by Enzo -- and bit down on the need to smile. 

Vic was upset for him. He didn’t expect that to feel so… Nice. Validating.

“So you can’t race in Italy,” Vic hummed, tone low and almost dragging itself out of her mouth. “Why not race in a -- fuck I don’t know horses,” she tilted her head back and waved her spoon around, “Melbourne Cup is a horse race. Why not race here? Or does the ban keep you?”

Dino reached for his fork and ate a mouthful. He realised what he was doing only halfway through: buying time. 

Did the ban keep the Cavallone from racing outside of Italy? He didn’t know. 

The ban had been his grandfather’s greatest shame. The Eighth Don of the Cavallone hadn’t been able to fight off those little Dons who had climbed on top of each other to seem taller and tip the scales. The beginning of the end for the Cavallone, really.

After that, the Eighth had fallen to illness and Dino’s father had taken the reigns as the sole heir. Everyone knew how that ended.

Dino nudged an olive and watched it roll across his plate. Enzo stole another leaf with a satisfied ‘crunch’ .

Dino had never seen a Cavallone race on a track before. 

Could he? Did he dare? Enter his Cavallone horses into civilian races? How close could he get to the civilians when the Mafia were so careful to keep that strict divide? 

Hell, even their resorts were Mafia and Mafia-adjacent exclusive! It took a whole boat or plane to get to the separate island . 

Dino swallowed the leaf, long gone mushy in his mouth. 

But if it worked? If he dared to start racing their Cavallone-style bred horses -- if it worked? 

Break the tradition, break the rules, break the bonds of debt that tie down the Cavallone. 

“Good idea?” Vic asked, a lazy smile on her face. “You look excited. Practically chomping at the bit.”  

Dino looked up, he hadn’t realised he was grinning.

‘Never race a Cavallone.’ Time to bring that old saying back.

[depressed-toadstool]

Essay Nobody Asked For #2: The Pain of Not Loving Learning

Bit of a more personal topic this time, but reading a friends newsletter of mine made me think of it. They mention how excited they are to do research projects, how the act of learning everything about this one topic is an act of love.

"In a way, I think that learning about something is the highest form of loving something."

That's how they put it. Now, being in college, I hear about learning a lot. College is an act of choosing to learn more, choosing to put your time and money into learning. It's no longer high school, you're not forced.

So why do I feel so indifferent?

People assume I love learning because I'm here, but truthfully, I can't say that I do. I find no thrill in the idea of sorting through miles of information looking for the right pieces, or of connecting ideas together or learning every last thing about something. I can't say I hate it, either. Like I said, indifference. But that indifference feels almost worse. I am surrounded by people excited to learn, my friends sharing the things they learn in their major classes, the moments of realization that make all of the work and boring class lectures worth it.

But that spark, that excitement, its not there for me. I can't say it ever really has been. It doesn't feel like a "death of childhood wonder", I don't remember being an ecstatic learning when I was younger either. I hated school less, but on the specific concept of learning, I remained, as ever, indifferent. But seeing everyone around me so passionate about it fills me with a sense that I must be doing something wrong.

I feel like I'm somehow at fault for this lack of spark. That some failure in me has led to this void of passion. The definition of learning, according to Google, is as follows:

"The acquisition of knowledge or skills through experience, study, or by being taught."

I know some of the reasons for my lack of love for learning. That last part, being taught, is a big one. Having someone else tell me about something is entirely uninteresting to me. In some circumstances, it's even irritating. So, my other option would be self-teaching. Then I hit another block. If you were to hand me a book with all of the information about, say, insects (the one and only topic I can think of that I may truly enjoy learning anything about. It's the autism.), I would gladly memorize it inside and out. But the idea of combing through poorly designed websites, insufferably stupid search engines, and useless jargon removes any of the whimsy from the idea of self teaching.

The fact that the internet and current state of it has kind if ruined reasearch for me is a whole other can of worms, one of which I will open another day.

I suppose I'll always feel a bit foolish for being here, and institution of learning, not really desiring to learn anything. I can't say why I'm at college; truthfully, I have no idea, which is a bit stupid of me, seeing as I'm two years in. Irresponsible, even. But I'm certainly not hating the experience, and I'm already this far, so why not keep going?

[jacksgreysays]

Would you ever write academy students having and history class, and learning just how many regimes Team 7 changed, and how "natural disasters" influenced something or another

Hi violetablood! :D

I sort of did this in one of my long ago Three Sentence Fic but I don’t think that’s a proper response to this ask so let’s see…

In a realistic Naruto world, I actually don’t know how important history would be in the academy. Because, I read this somewhere in regards to Boku no Hero Academia, but basically both the hero students and shinobi-to-be are at trade/vocational schools, which means their curricula would be focused towards their future roles in society more so than general knowledge. And not to say that history is useless to shinobi (especially regime changes!) but except for maybe the broadest of timeline regarding the Elemental Nations and somewhat uh… patriotic Konoha and Land of Fire history, I don’t think the Academy would teach much history to their pre-teen future soldiers. Like. These are elementary school kids, the majority of whom will either never leave Konoha or at the very least never leave Land of Fire (or, in a realistic war, be little more than cannon fodder, oof). There’s probably some kind of further education opportunities for those who enter Intel or those who are trained for deep cover, but otherwise I feel like more information is given as needed for whichever impending mission a shinobi gets deployed on.

All of that being said, Team Seven’s regime changing shenanigans are definitely part of the curricula mostly because they have SO CRUCIALLY changed the political, economic, and literal landscape of MULTIPLE COUNTRIES, in addition to being the top of a chain of dominoes that literally led to the creation of a BRAND NEW SHINOBI VILLAGE (and yeah, Land of Birds would be a minor village, but it’s still a whole new village). And also the alliance between Sand, Mist, and Leaf. Which, you know, fingers crossed, lasts for a long time.

The “natural disasters” would probably be part of the further education opportunities given they are probably still ANBU classified and thus would only be relevant to the previously mentioned specific shinobi. Although, I suppose that also depends on how much the “natural disasters” have changed geography (which I imagine is taught a little more widely taught in the academy. Or, at the very least, the breadth is a little wider even though, again, not everyone will leave Land of Fire). Because an earthquake is one thing, but a river having changed paths is another.

… although, to be honest, all of the above is me trying to excuse, diegetically, why I wouldn’t write this fic. Or at least, not as an entire fic devoted to this concept? Like, such a scene would be a part of a larger fic to sort of expositional dialogue something about the worldbuilding. Similar to how the “transcript from Nara Satori’s ‘Lectures on Elemental Chakra’” in Primadonna Girl (fills the void up with celluloid) was meant to bring the concept of specific ratios of blended elemental chakra leading to certain “extinct” blood limits to imply that Shikadai has Magnet Release but doesn’t quite know it.

So a scene in which academy students are learning about a certain genin team affecting international politics via regime changes would have to serve a greater purpose than just glorifying said team’s shenanigans. Like… take the Primadonna Girl universe: on the one hand, of course the propaganda machine that is “protect the village and the Hokage with your life” would want to mention such things like the Great Uzumaki Bridge and how the Nanadaime personally saved the life of the Daimyo of Land of Spring. But would they want to even risk Her name being brought up? All the students know that The Last Loyal Uchiha aka the head of the Konoha Military Police was genin teammates with the Nanadaime and that the Rokudaime was their sensei, but would the academy want to risk students then wondering who their third genin teammate was? How struck from the records would Her name and actions be? Does a certain level of enterprising students investigating flag member of Intel? (Is that maybe even a good thing? Are there ANY clan members who run interference, who watch which clever students find the truth and what those clever students do? Does an older Shiho secretly make copies of those censored reports so that one day the truth can be restored?)

And then, non-diegetically, I suppose the reason why I wouldn’t write it is because it would be either SO MANY CHARACTERS to juggle (an entire class, plus their teacher?) or just a straight up lecture—which I greatly struggled with in the previously mentioned “Lectures on Elemental Chakra”—with the students only tuning in every so often. Or, like, talking over it. And then—even if it is the next generation kids—that’s still a lot of OCs to fill out the numbers. Even with Shino being their teacher. SO MANY CHARACTERS!

… buuuuut now that I consider the whole… political ramifications of school curricula in Primadonna Girl, it does make it more appealing. Because the propaganda/intel/counter-intelligence would be one of the many arenas in which the pro-Shikako and pro-Naruto camps would be duking it out, and I guess that would be an interesting way to get Shino’s (and Chiyako’s and maybe Kiba’s) POV or even what side they’d be on, because I don’t think I’ve yet brought up their opinion of the whole situation.

And if this IS after the (fills the void up with celluloid) installment, then it would be interesting to see how Shikadai does or doesn’t react to the gaps that may or may not be in the history that he now knows is where is secretly banished aunt is supposed to be. And if Shikadai does react (or pointedly DOESN’T react) to certain things then that pulls in other students noticing his behavior (ie, Chouchou, Inojin, and Boruto)

So, like, I guess the answer is maybe I would write this fic under extremely certain circumstances?

[andrewmfriday]

My Autodidactic University

Let’s not talk about how long ago I graduated from university. The world is a different place. I studied journalism and then went to art school. I’m embarrassed to say it took me longer than it should to realize this: graduating from high school or college is just the beginning.

School’s purpose is to teach us how to teach ourselves — or it should be. It’s not about memorizing useless facts. It should be a training center for learning how to think for ourselves. Why? Because knowledge changes. Science changes. Religion changes. History changes.

As a graphic designer, I learned how to use Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign and the whole Adobe gang decades ago, but those software have changed over time. And I had to keep learning how to use them.

The same can be said for any subject.

My real education goes far beyond classrooms and tests — it’s a lifelong pursuit. With the vast resources available online today, anyone can continue to expand their knowledge on any subject, at any time.

I have had a few long satisfying careers over my life. I’m in that point in my life where I love to learn for the sake of learning. No interest in a degree. No certifications. Just learning. And, wow, I can do that so easily with the digital advantages we have today.

So, I decided, just for fun to become autodidactic. In my spare time, I wanted to brush up on certain subjects and discover new areas of knowledge. And I didn’t want to go take courses at a local college. And I didn’t want to take online courses. Not that there’s anything wrong with either of those. I decided to just create my own curriculum and study casually as I lived my life.

Here are the steps I took:

Pick a Subject and Create a Syllabus with AI.

I decided to study art history. Or rather, brush up on it. A few years ago, I took a wonderful video course from my city’s library website, but I wanted to revisit the subject. Art history also offers itself as an easy example for this article.

After asking ChatGPT to create a syllabus for a 14-week course (or how ever many weeks you want) on art history, I was on my way. In seconds, it created an outline for me to follow to learn art history. It reminded me handouts I would have gotten many years ago on the first day of class.

All I did was plug in the following instructions: “syllabus for introduction to art history course.” I did this for several subject I am curious about like communication theory and American literature, but I decided to go forward with art history for now.

Study ahead for each week’s subject.

This can be done in several ways. I Googled the information which happened to be early Christian art — yes, there is the art for ancient civilizations, but I felt that is too broad of a subject and deserved its own course. So, I started with Christian artwork and got the basics with a simple online search.

For each bullet point under early Christian art — things like large-scale mosaics, iconographic portraits, and architectural structures — I sought out websites with specific details and examples, and I added these to my personal notes.

Because I was studying art history, I also included graphics of paintings, sculptures and architecture from each art period. Whatever subject you pick will determine the nature of the information and graphics you collect.

Note: the autodidactic can go at his or her own pace. I usually studied one or two topics a week, depending upon how busy I was. I may study both the Dada art period and the Cubism art period in one week. Or I would skip a week in my course.

Watch YouTube videos for each subject.

After studying ahead, I would search YouTube on the specific topic of the week. It’s like having a professor give you lectures on the subject which was true for many videos. I’d create a playlist for that topic — in this case, an art history playlist — and dump everything into it. I would usually pick at least two short videos for that week’s “lecture.” I did this to get a variety of viewpoints on the same subject. I also pick videos that are no longer than twenty minutes. I can get the gist in a short amount of time. This week, I added two videos on the New Objectivity art period to my Art History playlist.

Create flashcards for each week.

This is the part where I study my notes from the videos and websites from which I’ve mined them. Traditional 3x5 cards work, but I use digital flashcards. Flashcardmachine.com is great. I ask questions based on my notes and just copy and paste the answers on the back of the digital cards. Very quick and easy.

In this first round of creating flashcards, I don’t study them too closely. My goal is to get an overall idea of the topic. While I may know what post-impressionism art is, I don’t worry too much about studying as hard as I would if I were in an actual class. Paying tuition. Taking tests. No, this is for fun, and I can come back later and review.

Go into the field.

Hands-on learning is the most effective. Videos, flashcards and taking notes are great, but they’re just laying the foundation. If possible — if the topic you study allows for it — find a way to ‘go into the field.”

Tullio Crali, Flight at Sunset, 1930, oil on canvas. This is an example of a Futurism painting at the Speed Art Museum in Louisville, Kentucky. Photo by the author.

You may want to find experts in the field you study. Find teachers, businesspeople, and other autodidactics to talk with. Go visit places — like I did the art museum — to see examples in real life. Use your ingenuity to get hands-on experience.

Test yourself on your knowledge

So, I mentioned the flashcards. Once I’m done with the course I created, I’ll use them to review my knowledge of art history. I could also generate an exam on ChatGPT, but I’m not sure. I love taking tests, but I’m going to make this part optional. Since I’m doing this for the love of learning, I will test myself only if I feel like it. I’ll probably revisit certain lessons over time and add new videos to my playlist or re-read my notes. I’m going to go at my own pace. Because I can.

“I wish I had this technology when I was in university.” I know I sound like an old man when I say that — which I am to some people — but it’s true. If I could have looked ahead to see how information would be available at one’s fingertips, I would have called it science fiction. Now, it’s science fact. And it makes learning for the sake of learning so much easier.

Gosh, I wish I had a computer and the internet when I was in college. I would have killed it.

My Linktree

[foxyreacts]

Here we go anecdote time.

My father used to write for Channel 2 news in Vegas in the 80s and early 90s. He wrote commercials and things. I am a very theatrical person, I love to act and I wanted to pursue it.

My whole life my dad told me why I shouldn't prioritize art. Why I had to get a "real job" first and if I made it big I could quit then. It's a very common lecture from parents of artists, I think. Luckily he still encouraged my artistic side, but with it came a plethora of infodumping about how film & TV work.

Now, I have a BBA in HR, so the below is my knowledge of unions and contract law combined with his knowledge from 30 years ago. Some information may be out of date.

Here are some lessons about entertainment he taught me.

Hurry up and wait: this is how the entire industry runs. Hurry up and wait is the expectation of every worker on a set. Everything needs to be finished yesterday and you need to (basically) kill yourself to make sure everything is finished and perfect as quickly as possible!! And then you wait. No one, the director, producer, cameras, etc., will be ready at the same time. BUT YOU MUST BE READY WHEN THEY ARE. You bend over backwards jump through hoops just to hold when you're ready. To wait on the call that's going to use you for all the 5 seconds you're needed. A lot of the time, you'll wait and wait and never be used due to decisions that are over your pay grade. Your work can just be scrapped with no warning and you have to move on to the next thing with no hesitation.

Work in film & television is generally done through independent contracting. To simplify, a contracted employee agrees to wages, duration of employment, and scope of work ahead of time through a contract. Often, they are paid once. In the United States, contracted employees are not legally employees of the company they contract with. This means several things about their rights, but mainly that they are not protected from their employers by the government, because again, legally, they aren't employed, they're contracted. Contracted employees do not receive benefits. They have to take taxes and social security out of their pay on their own. They generally provide their own equipment and any additional workers independent of the company. Beyond this, & imo the most important but not really relevant to THIS strike, the EEOC cannot enforce discrimination claims against the company for contracted employment. (acting roles in particular generally have BFOQs - bona fide occupational qualifications - basically things that prevent claims of discrimination. ie it's not discrimination to hire a man instead of a woman if the role calls for a man)

Because contacts are for a set duration, it may be months between assignments. There are large swathes of time where you may not have work at all. If you want to eat you have to either have overlapping contacts (kill yourself working to the bone) or have a second job in another field.

The first unions were created to protect trade workers & this is still their primary function today. In business school, we were taught that unions are generally outdated and are on their way out. (I had a lengthy argument in class w my prof over this) This is taught. Business majors entering the work force are taught that unions are archaic and generally useless. Literally only the HR students were required to learn about unionization and how they relate to business. It was otherwise an elective.

'why are actors striking aren't they all millionaires' here's a paywall free link to an article that mentions how most of the cast of one of netflix's biggest shows had day jobs bc they couldn't afford rent

[passingdaysthings]

05.05.2024 - Overwhelmed

Today is Sunday.

I am currently trying to work on 2 overdue assignments I have for class, but I am a bit overwhelmed by them. I am working on a new concept called web scraping which I have never done before, and it has been confusing me for a few days. I am not sure what I have to do or if I am doing it correctly because I am not getting what the instructions are telling me. It's been a like 2 days of trying it, and it's just the first part of the assignment. It's not even the whole assignment, so it is really bother me. I also tried to move on to the next assignment, but that one was giving me trouble too. I am so so glad that I am almost done with this program because the professors are shit. Like... I am doing this web scraping assignment, but they didn't teach us how to webscrape. Unless I just blacked out during lecture which I do, but watching the recording didn't help me. I hope the offline lecture helps me. I just feel like I am not actually learning anything because the lecture is usually pretty different from the hw assignments. Th lecture will touch on parts I need, but it's never enough to actually start the assignment and finish it. I usually have to google everything. It's really annoying. I also do not enjoy the office hours.

Outside of school, I am kind of hanging out, and it's been rather normal. I did overhear my mom talking poorly about me, and it was upsetting. Once again, she just demonstrated her favoritism towards Tracy, and it's crazy how delusional she is. I think the biggest thing she was complaining about was how she has to pay for my schooling and how I always ask for money, but Tracy never ask for money. She gave Tracy 70k to buy a house... I ask for her to pay for my school. My schooling has probably cost her around 18k which is much less than 70k. The 70k she wired to my little sister to help her buy a house. I am not comparing myself to my sister, but for her to say that my sister doesn't ask for money is crazy. Just last month, my little sister charged $600 on my credit card, and then, she asked me to tell our mom to pay for it. Where does my mom think my little sister never ask for money comes from? At least I asked for money to do more schooling... not to buy a house after quitting my job. It makes me sad that I even have to think that way because I know my little sister hated her job, but my mom could wake up a bit and think about what she say a little more. I also never try to compare my sister and I because we are two very different people, but my mom makes it really hard. She legitimately goes around telling our family about how I am useless and do nothing, but my little sister makes a lot of money. My little sister quit her job in January and has been jobless since.. Idk what she is talking about. Of course, I went through like 3 years of no job and no income, so I don't have much to way on this matter, but the fact that my mom is complaining really irks me. This is why I plan on moving away from this shitty family and be on my own. I just feel sorry for my dad because he genuinely supports me unconditionally, so I will miss him. I will most likely stop talking to my mom when I leave too because she thinks I owe her. She evens tells people she "loans" me money while she doesn't mention the money she gives my little sister. If she wants to act like a loan shark then I will treat her like one too and avoid her and my "loans" LOL. I can't wait to find a new job and move. I think that's when I will just cut off and type of financial support my mom gives me. I'll just pay for my own stuff. I guess she can just keep paying the phone bill because we're on a family plan. I just need to endure a little bit more. I can do this! I got this! I just have a little bit more to go. Just 3 more months.

Now we have Taylor. To be honest, I just feel less and less about him, and he seems to irritate me more. I don't get why he acts like he hates spending time with me or I annoy him, but he constantly talks to me? I typically stop talking to people I am annoyed with. These days, I don't feel much when I don't talk to him, and I don't particularly feel the need to talk to him. I also don't have much to say to him. I also don't have the patience to deal with his attitude anymore. I immediately clock out and try to leave when he gives me attitude. I don't particularly hate him or anything. I still value him as a friend too, but I just find myself wanting him to find a girlfriend to do all these things with. Sometimes I feel like I fulfilling a duty? Ig I feel that way given the nature of our relationship. I am not his gf, but I do a lot of gf type things which I don't push away, so I don't blame him. I am just as guilty when it comes to things because I just go along with things. We also made birthday plans to watch scary movies on his birthday. I absolutely hate scary movies, but I don't mind watching them with him. As it has been, I just continue going with the flow when it comes to our "friendship", and I am just waiting for the day it blows up in my face or his.

Oh well. You got this, Paula. Remember 2024 is the year that we are going to be disgustingly educated and work on ourselves. Let's get this MS!

-P

[autisticlee]

I like to learn. I WANT to learn. I like to learn to do new things that interest me. I like to consume a vast amount of knowledge about things I enjoy. I also prefer to have the structure of someone else teaching it to me rather than figuring out how to collect the overwhelming amount of info myself and figure out how to learn it without any help. it sounds fun in theory, but school absolutely ruins it for me.

I would be all for school if it was only based on learning the things you enjoy and have interest in. hands-on and interactive learning. learning for because you want to learn a certain thing out of pure genuine interest. not learning just to be put on the spot and have scores and grades on the line. no homework and assignments. no tests and exams. no reports and papers. no sleepless nights and decaying health. no social norms to uphold and people to please.

some may ask, how do you know you learned the material without those things? simple, through doing it with your own hands until you master it. let your work speak for you and prove that you have learned it. rather than prove you learned it before you are allowed to do the work. which you are then thrown out on your own, probably lost and confused because you may not have truly learned anything useful. learning a concept or something in theory never really translates well to actual hand-on work, let's be honest. i've heard so many people complain that fresh college graduates don't know how to do any of the work at all. they say they learned how, byt lectures and books and exams and essays can never prepare for the actual work. and your boss/supervisor/etc are too lazy to teach you.

the school system really needs to change. no sitting in a classroom listening to a boring person talk at you as you fight to stay awake. no trying to sort through the boring words in overly expensive textbooks to figure out what 2% of info out if the 50-100 pages you're assigned to read a night is maybe important and will be on an exam. no writing papers in very specific overly picky formats, relating to the class but probably not even about a thing you really care about. no endless assignments that don't help you learn and just stop you from having free time, rest, and sleep. no grades and scores and GPA to hang over your head and make learning go from a fun thing you want to do, to a stressful thing you HAVE to do. no pointless classes in between that don't even remotely relate at all to the thing you are interested in and choose to study. no social stress caused by people distracting you from your work and whole purpose of being there. no cliques and being either forced to make friends with people you don't like/relate to or become the bullied outcast. no sensory trauma caused by the vast amount of sensory input forced on you every second of the day in a school environment. and most importantly, no crippling lifelong debt after all that insane stress, just for a piece of paper that nowadays doesn't even get you a job to pay that debt, let alone a job that's even slightly related to what you studied. have fun paying $200k+ with a horrible and dehumanizing fast food/customer service job while everyone calls you lazy and useless for working there for years and living in your parents' basement, despite having a degree.

everything about school and traditional teaching methods ruins everything about learning for me. I can't do it. I can't stand the way it works. I learn nothing and can only force enough info into my brain to barely pass if i'm lucky. the stress, overwhelm, overwork, boring and pointless, etc, it all overshadows my ability to learn or enjoy the learning process. the process itself is so flawed and works against my brain and needs that I can't learn anything no matter how hard I try, even if it's a special interest.

I think the only way i'd be able to learn is in a small group or one-one-one apprenticeship environment. think blacksmith who takes a pupil and trains them for years, teaching them hands on how to do the work. starting them with small work until they start handling the main work themsleves and eventually take over when the master retires. that's the only way my brain can learn. that sounds absolutely perfect for me. but schools, especially universities, abolished that type of teaching. everyone is too lazy to teach their employees even simple jobs. they expect everyone to have a degree or 5 and already have 10 years of experience and know how to do everything without being taught.

my brain (and body and soul) can't handle school environments and teaching methods. I got so sick at uni I had to drop out. I would have failed and got kicked out if I kept going. apprenticeships don't exist these days. the only time i've seen them is when they are basically an internship. they require schooling first so they don't need to teach you. you work for experience towards your resume more than to learn. they are very short term and you're sent on your own again to struggle alone.

it's so upsetting because I WANT to learn and become a master of something. but I don't have the ability to teach myself (I've tried. I can't correct my own mistakes if I don't know what they are and youtube/reading alone also cant help correct me) and definitely won't be able to make it through school. what's the point anyway when most degrees are useless paper (unless you do things I don't care about like medical and law and business) and you get to live in debt for the rest of your life and work a horrible job you can't stand because it's all you can get even with your expensive paper

[jizelleisintumblermotherfuckers]

incoming college freshman advice !

Go to class, even if you don't feel like it. This isn't high school anymore where you can drop a class anytime you want.

Don't commit to 8am classes or you'll regret it. It's a waste of time, energy, and you'll have a hard time learning when there are loads of tasks and you have to get up in the morning and run to uni.

Invest in good quality school supplies, even if it costs more than usual. You will spend more buying poor quality things each time it breaks frequently. To find good quality things that you can use for several months or so.

You go to class for attendance and ask questions to your classmates, and go home to study basically everything. Most of the time this is actually what happens. You teach yourself and put all your effort for your own good.

Stay organized and disciplined. Have fun but be serious in studying. Make organized schedules, comply with your tasks right away, ready a syllabus for advanced studying, and have as much sleep as possible. Even if you fail it at times, organizing and discipline will still become a habit.

Connections. Make friends or acquaintances. Networking is very important in college. These are the people who you ask after lectures for other concerns, the people you help and would help you, and the people you study with. Talk to everyone, from your seatmate to your professors, about anything that would help you go on in college. You don't have to be an extrovert, just communicate. However, NEVER JOIN FRATERNITIES, it's useless.

Analyze everyone first before choosing a friend group. If you join a friend circle and they turn out to be 🚩, leave right away or cut them off. They will push you down in college. Join friend groups that don't exhaust or drain you, choose the ones that make your quality of life better. DO NOT TRY TO FIT IN, just be yourself and you'll find your people.

Stand up to bullies. Yes, bullies still exist in college. They, apparently, exist everywhere at any point in life. But unless you want your 4 or more years of college in hell, do not let them disrespect you. If you can fight, fight them to leave you alone. If you can't, find someone who will.

Enjoy your youth. Go to parties, drink, have fun, and all that. But do not be addicted to the point that you prioritize your vices over studying. Sometimes, partying can help you de-stress.

Approach your professors. Ask questions and raise concerns if you have. We have professors that only showed up to class when we approached them, despite not being present for several weeks already. Seek advice if you also need it, but understand that they, too, are busy so weigh their schedules too.

Join organizations, and clubs, and be a student leader if you have the time for it. It's beneficial for your experience as you'll need it for the industry. Plus, you'll meet other seniors that would give you advice and maybe even help you in your subjects.

If you don't have to work, don't. Enjoy your college years and you'll find yourself more focused on it. You can improve much faster.

Be serious on day one and it'll be smooth sailing from there. Do not tell yourself "I will just do great next sem/year/term" repeatedly, start doing great the first day you enter there but do not overdo it. Freshman year will AFFECT your whole college GPA/GWA so take it seriously. Ace your freshman and sophomore year so you'll have a strong foundation for when you take harder classes that will kick your ass later.

Do not tolerate your classmates, profs, or anyone's bad behaviors. They will do it until the end of time if they're not stopped now.

Save money. You'll need it. You will have college classmates who spend a lot because they have a lot of money or are just undisciplined, big spenders. Stay away from them. Have fun but be wary of your money. You don't wanna go broke.

Assess your degree during your freshman year. If you don't like it, save yourself by dropping or shifting majors. It'll be harder to stop when you decided you don't like what you're doing in your senior years.

Before deciding anything from then on, think about it carefully. Always ask yourself if you're sure multiple times. Calmness and wise decision makings are necessary for college. Impulsiveness will lead you nowhere.

Study and think of your possible future career(s) and salaries since day 1 of your freshman year. As you progress, it may change. But it's great to think about your future the moment you enter college.

Get free scholarships when you need them. College will need a lot of financial assistance.

Drop a class when you are loaded already. There are classes that won't be that necessary for your major. If you're not sure, go ask your school counselors for advice.

Find support. From your college friends, your old friends, your professors, family, organizations, pets, and people who you can trust that will help and support your progress. College is a draining point of life for students, that's why help (and asking for it) is necessary.

[v-taehyung-kim]

Mr. Jeon

“So, class, is that understood?”

What? What is meant to be understood? Fuck. I stared at him too long and zoned the FUCK out.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” said the class in unison while I just… sat there. My face gives away my confusion and well, just like every-fucking-thing else, shit is against me. For some reason my face just cannot hide my true emotions, so I’m an open book for EVERYONE to read. I can’t even lie, which is so useless in any school setting. Well this is University, but y’know , same thing.

“Miss y/l/n, kindly stay after class, I’d like to have a quick word,” Mr. Jeon says rather sternly, which is amazing it’s exactly what my soul wants to be fed with. Uh, a hot, sassy, stern and HANDSOME man? Yeah, I’ll take the whole lot, thanks. Also, it’s technically professor Jeon, but he likes to be a little more casual with us.

God Y/N can you quit rambling within your own head?

As the rest of the class heads out the lecture room, I gather my things and head up to the teacher’s desk.

“Am I in trouble?” I ask, awkwardly laughing. Does saying ha-ha literally count as laughing at all…? Fuck he’s talking-

“-and that’s not trouble as such, however, passing this class requires full attention.”

“Uh, sir, with all due respect, I’m doing fairly well in the tests recently, being a bit lost-in-the-daydream, or, I don’t know, zoning out thinking about something exciting, is, in my humble opinion, normal…yes?” I say fumbling with the corner of my skirt, which I definitely wore to get his attention. But I’m making a solid point here!

“Lost in the daydream? What are you talking about?”

“Uh. Isn’t that what you’re raising an issue with?”

“No, Miss Y/L/N but that is also proving to be a problem. Hmm. No, I was talking about not overloading your course load this semester with extra classes. Graduating early sounds great, only if you’re physically capable. I thought you were looking quite ill, for as long as you’ve been in my class. But I see now that’s just you zoning out? And every class?” He says, crossing his arms against his chest and furrowing his eyebrows. Phew that’s HOT. Okay no focus. For once, focus.

To be fair, I understand him. I zone out in all of his classes, daydreaming about him. I know I have to impress him though so I make an extra effort to rewatch his lectures and perform well in the tests. Well, that is actually tiring me out. Maybe I am sick?

Sick in loooove-

“Miss Y/L/N?”

God if I hear that from his mouth one more time-

“No, yeah, it’s a problem. I don’t know. I’m so sorry Mr. Jeon. Rest assured, I’m able to handle my schedule, at least so far I have been able to. Thank you for your concern!” I smile awkwardly, moving to the right to exit the class.

“If paying attention is hard, feel free to ask for help to repeat or explain any concept you need. I can let you know when I’m not in class, and you can visit my office.”

He said WHAT?

Uh.

Yeah, no, I’m gonna take him up on that fucking offer.

“Really? Yes, that would be very helpful. Thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll email you my schedule. Come with good questions.” He says and gets to clearing the whiteboard.

I awkwardly smile again, with my teeth forming a box, and leave.

Okay.

Time to process what happened.

Is he interested in me? No. He doesn’t give that vibe, at all. He probably thinks I’m an air head and doesn’t realise that I’ve the fattest and fastest growing crush on him, so that’s good.

He literally doesn’t care about me. That’s good. A one sided crush and I can fantasise about him all I want. Everything is better in my head anyway.

Reality is no good.

————-

It’s good that I actually have questions and this is actually a fantastic opportunity to learn better from someone that has researched this topic.

Definitely not just an amazing opportunity to potentially have his babies. Nah, a long way to go for that.

I pack up my notes and a bunch of highlighters- because I’m so shit at being organised I just keep loose highlighters, pens, you name it. At least I have some? Does the job.

“Good evening, Mr. Jeon. Thank you so much for giving me your time like this,” I said, blushing, because wow this is so… I mean… we’re alone in his office.

He chose to see me after he was done for the day but still in office to do some grading, which is good because I don’t need to feel pressured that he has another class coming up.

“Oh no worries. Anything for a bright student like yourself.”

Fuck, there I go blushing again.

“Are you feeling alright? You look like the heat really got to you today?”

Oh yeah, the heat radiating off your body- SHUT THE FUCK UP Y/N AND SAY SOMETHING!

But you just asked me to shut up?

Quit talking to yourself in your head dumbass and SAY SOMETHING-

And my face just for redder in embarrassment.

“Oh, yeah, phew, it’s HOT outside today!” I said, quite loudly, which is EXTREMELY awkward. Fantastic.

“Here, I’ll turn this aircon on for you. Don’t worry about it, get comfortable,” he says, turning the aircon on. Honestly that would be nice.

I take a seat by his desk and pull out my notes.

“So, I actually do have questions, but some might be out of curriculum. I went down a rabbit hole whilst researching the answers to my questions, and it only led to more questions.” I said, gathering myself and actually getting serious.

‘Actually getting serious’ you’re such a joke y/n-

-DON’T talk to me I’ve got shit to do!

You’re talking to yourself-

Ssh he’s talking!

“Classic sign of a good student. Your curiosity is valuable, hold onto it. Ask away, love.” He says, smiling so cutely, fuck.

‘LOVE?’

LOVE??????????????? NO NO NO I CANNOT ZONE OUT-

I clear my throat and ask my first question.

“Can you please explain the embryological development of the small and large intestines? I don’t know if it’s my lack of spatial imagination but I cannot visualise the twisting and turning, the umbilical cord and literally everything else.” The words came pouring out, and I’m thankful for that.

“Ah, of course. Let me draw it out for you, love.”

This is gonna be hell.

——

“It’s satisfying to have my questions answered, I must say. And I’m impressed you answered every single one, somehow?” I said, quite casually.

It took one session for me to actually become comfortable with him, and he’s actually more human that I expected him to be. He’s so dreamy, I didn’t think he’d be normal. And funny. And sweet. And cute. I’m in love.

“Well, I aim to please.” He said… slightly smirking and looking away.

This bitch.

Please me.

“Haha, yeah…” of course I’m fucking awkward, how else do I respond to that?

“So are you pleased?

“Uh, yeah. I did say it was satisfying.”

“Well, mission accomplished. I’d love to be of help to you, love.” He said, very casually, making it look like none of this sounds strangely sexual. Maybe it’s in my head because I’m a horndog for him, so sure.

“Oh man, I really need to head out to get some groceries before I get home. Would you like me to drop you home?” He says, packing things up along with me.

Classic. Yes take me home.

“That’s really kind of you, I’d love that. I mean not love, I just mean, it’ll be really nice, nice I guess in a way that I won’t have to take public transport at rush hour-“

“- I get it, Miss Y/L/N, I’d love to take you home.”

Oh hell no.

Not in my head.

Not in my HEAD.

But he LOOKS LIKE IT MEANS NOTHING? It doesn’t sound suggestive… I’m a fuckin’ creep.

“Haha, okay… I can come to the grocery store too. I live alone, so I need to figure this out.”

“Oh? I live alone as well, I have the same reasons.”

Come to think of it, he does look very young, and he is actually the youngest in our faculty. But being young doesn’t mean you can’t have a wife or a husband.

———

This grocery store is as dead as his feelings for me. Fun.

He’s picking out the good tomatoes from the bad, and I’m hoping he squishes my tomato-

That’s actually disgusting, y/n. Get a hold of yourself.

What do I say then? Pick my strawberry? Peel my banana? Mash my potato? Tear my clothes off like tearing layers off an onion? FUCK-

SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

“Aren’t you going to… buy something? You’re just standing there?”

He thinks I’m a fucking creep, I know it.

“Yeah, nah, just thinkin’, “ I say, extra casually, y’know, because I’m cool. Keeping it cool. Smooth. Ice. Chill. Freezin’.

Simpin’.

“Thinking about what, this time? I’d love to know what you zone out about.”

Why is so fucking hot?

“Uh, haha, not much really!”

“Not much? You Zone out every 10 minutes.” Damn he noticed, huh?

It’s true, though.

“Mr. Jeon, I’ve heard it’s rude to ask someone to tell you their deepest darkest secrets.”

Why did I say that

Why

Did I say that

“Call me Jungkook.”

…..

Take a deep breath…

I’M ABOUT TO-

-SHUT THE FUCK UP AND REPLY BEFORE HE THINKS YOU’RE INSANE!

“J-j-uh.. j-j-uhhh-jungkook?” I say awkwardly, scratching my head and squinting my eyes, breathing heavily.

“That’s right, love. Jungkook. Can I call you y/n? I mean, we’re not that far apart in age and we’re not at Uni. If you’re okay with that of course, I respect your space.” CONSENT, BABY!

I guess we aren’t that far apart in age. But it’s a bit too much for my heart and my tomato to hear my name coming from his mouth.

“Y-yeah! Psshh, duh! Of course. Yeah no that’s all good.” I say laughing a bit too loudly and grabbing onto our cart, only to fail to actually grab onto it, nearly fucking TRIPPING.

“Sorry, haha, senses not working today. Heatstroke, remember?” No, y/n, that makes no sense you never had a heatstroke and if you did, you wouldn’t be here.

“Y/n,” he says, getting serious for some reason.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Crap.

I sigh.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m a little ditzy, that’s all.”

“Don’t apologise. It’s adorable.” He mumbles, smiling and looking away.

Yeah you stare at those damn tomatoes after turning me into one.

I’m… adorable? My exes all called me annoying, so, yeah.

“Adorable?”

“Yeah. It’s really cute how you get awkward, and sometimes ramble and fumble, I take notice of it all.” He smirks, adorably so.

Wait, that’s so… sweet.

“Oh, haha… yeah, I’m…I do that alright…” I nervously play with my fingers, looking down.

“Come on love, let’s get you your groceries.”

He pushes me along by my shoulders, laughing.

He ended up getting all my veggies in the cart, and nearly doing all the work for me. I just said the word, and he’d put it in the cart.

I’m feeling things.

Paying for my bit and him paying for his, we get in his car.

I forgot he’s Mr. Jeon for this entire duration…

“Jungkook?” I ask, as he’s putting his seatbelt on.

“Yes, love?”

Stop sounding like my boyfriend, fuck.

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to be so casual? You’re my professor?” I feel awkward even asking this question because now I’ve made things weird.

“How do you mean? We’re okay. I’m sorry, did I make you feel weird?”

No, please keep going.

“Oh no, it’s not something you did. It’s okay, haha.”

He turns to me and looks into my eyes for about 30 seconds. I’m worried about what he’s about to say.

“I think you’re really funny, y/n. And a bright student, I loved teaching you more about what we studied. It’s fun for me, as a teacher. I just think you’re interesting as a person.”

Somehow, I could tell by his face that he felt a bit conflicted but tried to make it sound okay.

“That means a lot to me, jungkook.”

———

A few weeks went by and we were getting closer at the speed of light.

I realised he’s so much more loveable and attractive than whatever his exterior shows. It started off as a crush on my hot teacher, but he’s such an amazing guy. He’s so gentle, listens so well, understands me, is so sweet and smiles so genuinely. He puts up no front, he’s so real and true to himself, his pure heart shines through. He’s generous, and actively gives back to the community. He makes the lamest jokes, and at the same time, is the smartest man in the room.

I’m fucked to say the least.

Here is walking perfection within my reach and now actually a close friend of mine, and I can’t even tell him how beautiful he is.

Weird to call him a friend, but we just connect so well.

“Jungkook, I swear, this shit has me turning my brain inside out. Draw this out too, please.” I say, sitting on his couch cross legged, staring at my notes.

“Y/N, for the last time, it doesn’t get simpler than this diagram right here. Even if I want to draw this, it’ll be the same as the diagram.” He says calmly, looking directly at me.

“Alright, fine. Can we take a break? My brain is fried, I can’t even comprehend the page number. Like, what? How did I get to page 254 when I was page 250?”

“You’re really asking me that?”

I awkwardly look towards my left and right before answering. “Uh??? Noooo? Of course not? I just, you know, yeah…”

“…yeah, okay, break time.”

I sigh in frustration as he gets up to clear the table away and put our notes aside.

I pull out my phone to scroll through Instagram to scroll till my brain is positively hollow, but then jungkook calls out my name.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm.”

“Love?”

Jesus fucking-

My head immediately snaps up and he smirks, seeing how I immediately respond to that.

He laughs a bit, and I blush knowing he’s caught me.

“Come here, love.”

Come here? Where? There?!

I get up and move towards him, and wait for him.

He pulls me into a hug and gently puts his hands in my hair, massaging my head.

“You must be tired. And this is going to sound strange but… you make me protective over you, with how adorable you can be. I’m sorry if it sounds inappropriate. I mean this with sincerity and care.” He says so softly, I’m going to yell.

Yell and screech, bitch.

“Jungkook, that’s incredibly sweet…” I breathe him in, and it ends up being audible.

He laughs at that, and hugs me tighter.

I’m in love. I don’t want more than him.

“I’m here, know that.” He says, so gently I could cry.

“And I’m here.”

We look into each others eyes and I feel all my love for him at once.

He smiles at me, putting stray bits of hair behind my ears.

His emotions seem so genuine, that he really cares for me.

“I’m here.” He says, again.

“And I’m here.”

We smile together, and I decide I want to squeeze him tight.

————-

Y’know, if I wasn’t sure before, I’m sure of it now.

I love him.

It’s true, it’s no longer a crush.

This has been a bad idea. I can’t even actually date him, so what the fuck do I do now?

I’ve been staring at him in class the entire time and I’ve completely zoned out. I know he knows it, he gave me a suspicious look. It’s fantastic, I’m exposing my own ass.

But he’s been staring at me too, every now and then. He looks my way so many times, it’s probably noticeable to others. Good thing I’m sort of hidden away.

But he probably looks at me like his younger sister, since I don’t see him making any particular moves or saying anything that’s remotely romantic.

He’s definitely not into me.

The class gets over and I head directly towards the exit because god knows, I need a break from FEELINGS.

“Miss y/l/n. Please come to my desk. Now.” Girl, I-

“Yes, sir.”

The classroom is now empty and I’m standing before him all awkward.

“Sir?” I say, looking at him, who is looking at me.

“Sir? Really?”

“What? Are you not my teacher? Professor? Sir seems like the obvious thing to call you.”

“And yet you talk to me like that? If you’re being professional, you may as well be more formal.”

“Uh, okay. Hello, sir. What is it that you wanted to speak to me about? I apologise if I caused any inconvenience.”

“As a matter of fact, you did, miss y/l/n.”

“I’m sorry, sir. What is it that I did?”

“Look, y/n. I noticed you really were not paying attention today, and you know this class is important for the upcoming test! The inconvenience is grading you badly!”

I want you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Come on, y/n. Your head has been in the clouds recently! You don’t ask me more questions, you’ve been doing the bare minimum!”

Can I marry you?

“No, yeah, I know.”

“I’m glad that you do but do you realise what’s at stake here? You want to graduate early, yes? Well failing a class will only delay the process! Come on…” he continues to talk, but honestly, I’m just lost in his eyes.

I like it when he yells. So passionate. His eyes are so lovely, so cute. Can I look into them forever? I’d love to marry him. Right now. Okay, tomorrow. He’s so perfect. Does he have eye dimples? Of course he does. I’ve known that from the beginning. I studied his face. Now I want to know more about him. Even more than I already do. He’s so… dreamy…

“Y/N! ARE YOU LISTENING?” He raises his voice, for the first time actually, and I jump in surprise.

“What in the world had gotten into you? Fuck. Meet me after my day ends, we need to discuss this.” He says, and leaves immediately.

Well.

Fuck.

————

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND YOU’VE BEEN SLACKING?”

I’m sitting on his couch, listening to him get mad at me. Shucks, I fell in love with you, sue me.

“Y/N, I understand slacking off is not a conscious choice and you’re probably dealing with something and asking you to “get your act together” is the worst form of support and dismisses the root problem. So, talk to me. Please, love. I care for you.” He says, sighing.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to.” He apologises, looking down.

You’re so intelligent and kind to me. I love you.

I love you.

“I love you.”

I think out loud, and immediately turn pale.

“What?”

“I love your kindness!”

“You didn’t say that,”

“No, no, sorry I didn’t complete my thought haha! Okay I need to get home now, I left frozen chicken breast out to defrost and I need to cook it. I just remembered!” I say hurriedly and attempt to get up.

Pushing me back down, he sits on the couch next to me and takes my face into his hands.

It doesn’t take a second before he places his lips on mine and I think I’m about to lose my mind.

He’s so soft, so gentle, but so passionate and… I open my mouth to let him enter and I really do believe I’m going to pass out.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groans, and it makes me groan.

He pulls away to look into my eyes.

Do I even want to know what he’s going to say next?

[mammonsturtle]

All We Do (Prologue)

Angst. Just Mammon angst. I’m not sure if this had/will have a plot. Inspired by this song.

CW : Mentions of physical abuse/slight bodily harm, self deprecating thoughts, suicidal thoughts, verbal abuse

A/N: As of 1/25/22, I found this in my drafts and decided to finish this up. So sorry if it’s short!

(Prologue) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Mammon was just tired. He was just so tired.

It was a miracle he could even move after punishment from Lucifer, a failed attempt to make off with a cursed record and selling it. As per usual, Lucifer had to dish out punishment. Aside from being hung from the ceiling by the heels, he got his whippings and a lecture from Lucifer as his little brothers laughed at him.

“You never learn, do you Mammon?” “Oh please Satan, this is Mammon we’re talking about.” “Give me my money back and die, will you Mammon?” “He’s the idiot of the family remember? He’s just playing his part.” “I expected more from you Mammon. Perhaps I should keep my expectations low.”

All Mammon could do was block out their words and hopefully Lucifer would just hurry up and finish his tirade. Once it was over, all Mammon could do was weakly nod to whatever Lucifer said and crawled back to his room. It took all his strength to get the door open and shut behind him as he rested for now on the floor. It was back like you never stepped into their lives, if you were here, none of this would happened. You would never let them get away with something as severe as this.

He needed to patch up his wounds, as his old ones that were reopened once more from the impact. He takes a breath as he struggles to get to his feet before dropping back to the floor. He truly was useless, wasn't he? An awful feeling bubbles in his guts as he let out a small but sharp cry. Yelping in pain, he knew none of his brothers would come to his aid even if they heard him. He was just a burden to his brothers, wasn't he? 

A failure, an embarrassment and a stain on the family. Even if he was one of the seven lords, the second strongest avatar, it didn’t mean jack if his own family looked down on him. Maybe if he wasn’t around, they’d be better off? Everyone only seemed to see the negative side of him and used it as ammunition against him. When was the last time they ever did or say anything nice to him? He can’t remember, it’s been far too long and the insults and berating heavily outweighed the genuine complements.

Mammon could feel his head getting heavy with thoughts. Maybe he should have died instead of Lilith? All the brothers, minus Satan loved and adored their beloved sister. But they also equally despised him too, didn’t they? Maybe he could do them one more favor, the only good thing he did for the family. Mammon groaned as his body ached from the punishments of late, maybe he could crawl out and hope to find a spell book Satan had left out. Or find poison to consume-

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. Not to you.

The only person to see any good in him was his most treasured human. MC. The fact you weren’t here to help him made him feel even more hopeless. But you were back home in the human world, yeah you kept touch with him but it wasn’t the same. He needed you here with him. He wanted your touch, every tight hug, every head pat, every absent minded fingers running through his hair. He missed the movie nights, the casino trips on the school nights, when it was just the two of you in the aviary just hanging out with his crow familiars. 

But you had a life there in the human world, you were so close to finishing your degree but being summoned to the Devildom threw a wrench into the works. As greedy as he was for you, he wasn’t going to be selfish and he decided to let you go and finish until you were ready to come back to him. 

His eyes couldn't stay open anymore as Mammon drifted off to a much needed rest. He would wait for you, for you to make everything okay and make him feel whole again.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Royal boots gently but silently grace the House of Lamentation’s hallways late into as the first born had finally succumbed to slumber. Ah, the door he was looking for. He turns the doorknob, and the smell of blood hits him like a truck. He frowns as he gingerly lifts Mammon up into his arms. “Ah..MC. You were right.” His frown turns into a silent face of rage as he closes the door, locking it behind him before opening the window out and carefully closing it on his way out. Great wings emerged from their skin casing as he silently takes off back to the Demon Lord’s Castle.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

To be continued. I think I’m planning to make this a Diavolo x Mammon fic. ;) 

[littlesmartart]

DRAWTOBER #22 -  somewhere to belong by KouriArashi

Nie Mingjue arranges for Meng Yao to stay at Cloud Recesses for the lectures.

Meng Yao looked away, trying to figure out the words to convey how confused he was by the last few weeks of events. But then, he thought, this was like Nie Mingjue in temperament. He still vividly remembered the day he had gone from ‘carrying water for ungrateful assholes’ to ‘vice-general’ in the space of two minutes.

Looking somewhat amused, Lan Xichen said, “I’ve found over the years that Mingjue-xiong will occasionally make an assumption or a decision and then act on it, forgetting that the rest of us aren’t mind-readers, and if he doesn’t tell us what he’s doing, we won’t know.”

-

Featuring: WWX as a chaos gremlin, NHS matchmaking, MY befuddled by praise, JZX being mocked for his uselessness, JC who is Not With These Idiots, and LQR grateful to have at least ONE student actually interested in learning.

I will never ever ever get tired of “Meng Yao stays at Cloud Recesses for the lectures and it changes so many things” AUs because they’re SO GOOD. this one in particular is really fun! not only do we get fantastic summer school shenanigans with the dumbasses pictured above, but also some really interesting stuff with Meng Yao’s character that I’ve not seen in other fics - the particular flavour of hostility he gets from the Jins, Mingjue’s thoughts on his place within the sect, not to mention Huaisang INSTANTLY clocking that his poor bff has a Thing about tall, handsome, kind men and never letting him forget it - and a whole new take on the direction the war might go with said changes in place! take a look at this fic if you want something exceedingly fun with a really solid plot and some great character dynamics. 

[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. 

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

[wh6res]

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person. 

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve. 

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun. 

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings. 

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll. 

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections. 

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to. 

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail. 

but you weren’t as lucky today. 

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin. 

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you. 

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing. 

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too. 

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold. 

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale. 

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you. 

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn. 

she reminds you of yourself. 

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck. 

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job. 

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again. 

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you. 

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine. 

you look over your shoulder. 

no one’s there. 

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way. 

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding. 

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night. 

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea. 

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government. 

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted. 

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. 

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes. 

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin. 

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight. 

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force. 

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud. 

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green. 

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak. 

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer. 

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them. 

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?” 

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape. 

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent. 

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries? 

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life. 

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake. 

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls. 

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault. 

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house. 

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day. 

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless. 

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate. 

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can. 

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside. 

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again. 

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice. 

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there. 

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with. 

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan. 

you almost collapse against the brick wall. 

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose. 

until you saw who it was. 

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday. 

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try. 

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma. 

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down. 

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times. 

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left. 

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes. 

three times you’ve cheated death. 

but time is up and your luck has run out. 

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch. 

naeun is nowhere to be seen. 

good. 

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare. 

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience. 

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it. 

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket. 

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances. 

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper. 

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you. 

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder. 

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you. 

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings. 

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you. 

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke. 

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone. 

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath. 

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase. 

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium). 

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin. 

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them. 

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory. 

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball. 

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

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jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[dreamescapeswriting]

Together ~ KNJ [Request]

WORD COUNT:5.3k

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader

GENRE: College AU, friends to lovers, angst, fluffy ending,

A single cough erupted from one side of the giant lecture theatre that you were sitting inside of causing everyone to stare over at the kid that coughed. He blushed deeply but anyone would with around 100 students sitting and staring at you because you coughed. All of you were just sitting there waiting eagerly for the exam to end. Tapping pens could be heard as you glanced around at everyone, it was the final exam and it appeared as though everyone had already finished and was just waiting for the bell to ring. All you wanted to do was race out of the lecture hall and out into the hot summer weather to tan for a while but you had to sit there, in silence until the test was finished otherwise the whole year of learning would have been for nothing. 

All the hours of countless cramming for tests would have gone to waste so you sat there. Staring forward at the chalkboard and around 60 students heads since you were right at the back of the hall.

It was finally the end of your first college school year and you were looking forward to the next eight weeks of pure bliss, not having to worry about waking up early for lectures or staying up all night studying for a test. It was going to be the best summer vacation you could ever possibly want, you already had what you were going to do planned out. No one was going to be in the dorm house that you shared, they all had their own plans so you arranged to stay inside for the first week, catching up on everything that needed to do before deciding to relax, binge watch shows and do whatever you wanted.

"Pencils down and close your booklets, if you have no finished you're exam don't worry. I'm sure you can make it up when you repeat this year," You looked at the woman at the front of the room, she was a woman in her early 40's with a Karen haircut, she'd been brought in when your original tutor for the course left to have a baby and never bothered coming back. It was a surprise to you that you even knew half of the questions on the exam, the teacher was useless you practically taught yourself late at night reading through the books and countless research articles online. 

"Single file lines! You're adults, we shouldn't have to tell you how to behave!" She screamed as people began rushing to get out of the hall, you stayed behind not wanting to get trampled in the herd of people.

The room was silent again apart from the shuffling of papers as Mrs Kim collected all of the papers. Leaning behind yourself you began packing things into your bag not noticing that your best friend was lingering up behind you. 

"Boo!" He yelled out as he placed his hands on your shoulders and shook you a little making you cry out in surprise. 

"Joonie," You whined as you saw the surprised look on Mrs Kim's face as she heard a sudden noise come out of nowhere. 

"Sorry Mrs Kim, I've come to steal my best friend." He practically pulled you free from your chair and dragged you out of the hall and into the hallways where people were talking amongst one another.

"I'm not even going to ask how it went, you're my best friend and I already know you've passed," He said in a matter-a-fact tone as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and that was when you knew he wanted something. The two of you had been friends since you could walk and talk you knew exactly what he was up to when he was flattering you. 

"Whatever it is, no. I'm not doing it, I'm not driving you, I’m not doing a late assignment for you, I’m not going to pick you up late from a party and I'm not going to kill someone for you," You went through everything so you didn't leave a single thing out but Namjoon tutted at you. 

"I am offended that you would even think for a second that I was trying to get something out of you," You stood still as you looked at him with a blank stare, 

"Okay fine I need something," He grumbled pulling you with him as he walked out of the main campus building.

Back at the house, you waited for Namjoon to tell you what it was that he wanted, the whole walk home he'd been avoiding the question or distracting you with something else. The house you lived in was huge, it had around nine bedrooms in total all with their own bathrooms and two main bathrooms. It used to be an old mansion home but it was renovated when a college was built nearby and rented out to groups of college kids. The last year you'd been living there with Namjoon and six of his college buddies, all of you got along which was perfect, no awkward meetings in the hallways or kitchen.

"You can't just tell me you need something and then not say anything," You told him as you picked up a slice of pizza from the box and began eating it. This was what he did when he wanted something, he would try to bribe you with food or do something nice for you, you'd known him long enough that this meant he was going to ask for something big.

"You're not doing anything in the summer, right?" You put down the slice of pizza and brushed your hands onto a napkin as you got up to leave. You already knew what he was going to ask and you weren't interested, 

"No way, there is no way of me going on that stupid trip." You told him as you began heading for the staircase wanting to go to bed but he grabbed your wrist. 

"You're my best friend, we're supposed to look out for one another," He whined as he looked at you, his large brown eyes turning into puppy-dog eyes as he attempted to persuade you.

It was the summer vacation he and some of his friends had been planning to take together,

"Kyong is going and I don't want to be alone with her," He told you as he looked at you, tugging on your wrist as he waited for you to say something. Mi Kyong, his ex-girlfriend that practically ripped him apart and left you to stitch him back together again. Cheating on him so many times in the relationship you wondered how he stayed with her for as long as he did. To you, she was the devil in disguise but to Namjoon she was and would always be the love of his life. 

"I'm weak if I go near her I'll break," That wasn't a lie, you knew that if Namjoon even stayed in the same room as her alone she would somehow manipulate him back into her life only to break him up into pieces yet again.

"I thought Jungkook and the boys were going," You sighed thinking about how your perfect relaxing time was going to be ruined by going out to some log cabin in the woods.

"They're taking their dates...Please...We'll have fun I promise and you can bring books...Music, painting gear...Whatever you want," You knew he was never going to let it go so you nodded slowly at him, at least this way you could keep a close eye on him at all times. 

The two of you were back in the living room, pizza slice in your hand as you were ready to curl up and watch Grey's Anatomy together,

"There's just one thing," He called out, you turned to stare at him pizza slice in your mouth waiting for him to continue.

"You have to pretend to be my date." The pizza slice slipped from your hands and onto the white leather sofa as you stared at him. 

"What?" Your voice cracked thinking that maybe you'd heard him wrong or he was just trying to joke but he shook his head. 

"You have to pretend to date me, nothing major just...A cuddle and holding hands," You stared at him feeling your heart pounding against your chest at the thought of doing something like that was Namjoon. He wasn't the type of friend that cuddled or held hands with anyone so suddenly doing that bought back all of the feelings you had for him that you had repressed. You never wanted to admit your feelings for him and when you moved into a house together for college you pushed them down so deep you thought you'd gotten over him. 

"And share a room, which we've done before it's not a big deal." He mumbled as he began watching the screen. Not a big deal? To him maybe it wasn't a big deal but to you, it was bringing up all of the repressed feelings you'd hoped you had been over.

"Y-Yeah, no big deal." You mumbled staring at the screen as you suddenly didn't feel like eating anymore. 

"I gotta go pack," You said suddenly, leaving the pizza with Namjoon and rushing up to your bedroom. Slamming the door and looking around as you thought about all of the things you didn't have for a summer vacation, tomorrow was going to be an impromptu shopping trip as early as possible. 

The car pulled up outside the large home and you thought it was some kind of joke until everyone began pulling their bags out. You took Namjoon by the hand and stared at him, 

"I thought you said it was a cabin in the woods," You whispered turning to look at the large mansion behind you which was defiantly not a small cabin in the woods.

"No, I said it was a home in a remote area." The remote area part was right, the ride had taken you almost four hours to get out here and it was in the middle of the woods but it was not a home of any kind. It was huge and modern. All of it was an open plan area with large floor to ceiling windows. The walls were white and black and that was just the outside. 

"I couldn't let my boys slum it for the summer," Kyong's voice said as she trailed her hand along Namjoon's back, you watched as he tensed up. The original plan was for him to be in the car with her but you managed to get Jimin and his girlfriend to swap with you both, riding along with Yoongi and his girlfriend instead. 

"It's costing me almost 650,000,00₩, for the month. I know you're only here for a week but I decided I would stay." Everyone seemed to have their eyes glued onto the building as they stared at it, 

"Nine bedrooms so I'm afraid Y/n might have to be on the sofa," She said in a condescending tone but that was when Namjoon wrapped his arm around your waist and drew you closer to him. Sparks felt as though they were shooting off your body and you hoped no one picked up on the fact that you were so shy from the small touch. 

"Actually she'll be in my room since we're together." He stared at Kyong as he said it and the smile on her face was wiped away, leaving a shocked look as she tried to think of something to say in response. 

"Really? You and Y/n- Wow...I never would have thought your taste would have changed that much," You knew it was an insult but you chose to ignore her, pulling at Namjoon's hand. 

"Come on babe, let's go find a good view." You cooed, pulling him into the front door and hoping that Kyong would finally leave him alone now that she heard you were dating, that way you wouldn't have to go through the butterfly feelings every time he touched you, even a little. 

"Babe?" Namjoon chuckled as he walked behind you, he'd never heard you call him anything besides Namjoon or Joonie, or if he was in trouble, Kim Namjoon.

"You need it to be convincing, right?" A smirk played on his lips while you had your back to him, he let you lead him through the house to try and find a room for the two of you but it was huge and you thought you might have needed a map to find your way around. 

"Here," Namjoon laughed pulling you into a large bedroom, your bag dropped from your shoulder. 

The bedroom had its own sitting room so you weren't going to have to worry about sitting downstairs where Kyong would bother you. There were large glass windows leading out onto a balcony that looked as though it had grass on it.

"Why does the balcony have furniture, there's no door-" You stopped speaking when the glass doors that you originally thought were windows began to move and open up, folding into the walls so you could walk out onto the small balcony area that looked over a giant pool on the ground floor. 

"This place is incredible," You breathed out as you laid your hands on the balcony railing, looking over at the woods that were just beyond the house. 

Namjoon was looking around the room, an ensuite was connected to it all white marble. A walk-in shower and a corner bathtub with jets.

"Hey I-whoa," Namjoon stopped as he looked at you and the view wondering where the windows had gone.

"So that's what that switch did," He chuckled softly as he thought back on the switch he had flicked on the wall.

The night came sooner than expected, you'd spent most of the day unpacking everything you'd bought along with you and planning what you were going to do the next day and now everyone was gathered in the kitchen. 

"I made us all a pasta dish, I figured it would be nice for the evening," Not for one second did you believe that Kyong had cooked the pasta, mostly because there were take out containers in the bin but also because Namjoon told you about the last time she tried to cook. She almost burnt her entire dorm down just trying to use a rice cooker. 

"Are you really going to eat all that?" Kyong questioned as she watched you piling pasta onto your plate,

"I mean pasta is known to bloat us but I guess you're obviously not bothered about looking bloated." Namjoon was suddenly by your side ready to take over for you, 

"Y/n looks perfect, so why don't you just focus on yourself," He ordered, taking your plate and his over to tone of the many dining tables that were in the home. 

"Ignore her, she's just trying to get under your skin." He reassured you as he smiled weakly, you knew he still had feelings for her but it was nice to see how much he was stepping in for you when he needed to.

"What did you ever see in her?" You mumbled as you began eating some of the pasta, trying not to let her lingering words bother you so much. It wasn't as though you and Namjoon were really dating, it didn't matter what you looked like anyway. If a person didn't love you for who you really were then that person didn't deserve the time of day. 

"I'm not sure, I think I was looking in the wrong direction," He laughed as he watched you eating, smiling as he couldn't help but look at you. All the years he'd known you he had been hopelessly in love with you but never realised until it was too late. Until you both in college and busy with everything else to deal with one another, he never wanted to ruin the friendship that he had with you.

"What?" You questioned as you noticed how much he was staring at you, 

"Nothing...Did you bring my favourite book with you? I might sit by the pool with you tomorrow," He was trying to change the subject and distract his own mind from thinking about you in that way.

"Do you have spare blankets over there?" You asked Namjoon later when you were back in your room, 

"Yeah but I don't think you'll need them, it's summer." He chuckled looking up to see you standing over at the sofa in the bedroom getting ready for bed. You were dressed in one of his old football shirts from high school and a pair of shorts. Namjoon's mouth nearly fell open, he'd seen you in his clothes before but this was something different.

"I meant because I'm on the sofa, I can't sleep without something covering me," You laughed awkwardly when you felt how much he was beginning to stare at you, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. 

"Why are you on the sofa? We have a huge bed right here," He laughed pointing at the large California King Bed that was in the room but you never would have thought that he would be okay with sharing with you. 

"You want to share a bed? You? Mr Kim Namjoon who hates being cuddled?" You laughed as you slowly made your way over to the bed, pulling back the covers a little. 

"Don't worry, it's not as if I'm going to cuddle you in the night." It wasn't something that worried you though, it was a thought that excited you.

The next morning Namjoon bought breakfast up to you on the balcony, telling you that he and the boys were going to go for a hike. 

"Sure, sounds good...Get some good photos," You told him as you bit into the apple he'd bought up to you, he smiled just watching you. That morning he'd woken up before you to find himself wrapped around you, one arm draped over your waist while your legs tangled together under the thin sheet you had both chosen to sleep in. 

"I will, what are you planning on doing today?" The plan was to sit in the bedroom and avoid Kyong as much as possible but you knew it wasn't going to happen, 

"I'll sit by the pool and read...Maybe go for a swim or bike into town." There was a small village just down the road, it was almost a two-hour walk but maybe an hour on the bike if you were lucky. 

"Sounds like a good idea, maybe I can ride with you later. We can get some snacks to bring back," Agreeing with him you couldn't wait for the day to pass just so you could spend some quality time with him but right now you were looking forward to curling up beside the pool. 

"Have a nice time," You whispered to Namjoon as you stood by the back gate of the house, all of the boys were getting ready to leave on their hike, the girls staying behind. 

"Wait!" You turned around to see Kyong rushing over in hiking boots, a coat and some short shorts that were going to do nothing to protect her from the bugs and nettles that could get her out there.

"You're going too?" You questioned as you looked from her to Namjoon, it was clear he had no idea it was going to happen. 

"Yeah. Me and my boys going for a long hike. It'll give me and Joonie a chance to chat." Hearing your nickname for Namjoon roll out of her mouth made your blood boil and you wanted nothing more than to trip her up but Namjoon looked at you and you instantly felt calmer. 

"Baby please come with me, it won't be the same without you." Frowning you stared at him wondering what he was doing when he pulled you close to him by your waist, leaning his face down so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your skin. 

"Fine, let me change..." You looked at him going to leave when Kyong scoffed at the pair of you, 

"Not even a kiss goodbye?" It was obvious that she didn't believe you and Namjoon were truly dating and you knew Namjoon wanted her to believe it so you grabbed him back the back of the neck and kissed him. The moment your lips touched it felt as though your legs had turned to jelly and you were about to fall but Namjoon held you steady, holding you by the waist as he pulled you closer to him enjoying the kiss between you. For that moment no one else was around you, it was just the two of you as you finally kissed for the first time, your heart hammering against your chest as if it was trying to escape. 

"I'll go and change," You whispered as you pulled away, your voice was hoarse as you stared at him biting down on your lip as you hoped that would happen again. 

"I'll wait here," His voice was almost as hoarse as yours as he watched you run back into the house, his eyes never leaving your body until you disappeared. 

"Well, that was a nice performance," Kyong mumbled but Namjoon didn't hear her, he just waited for you to return. 

The week was almost over and you were enjoying your time there more than you originally thought you were going to. You and Namjoon spent a lot of time with everyone else which meant pretending to be a couple most of the time, holding onto one another, kissing him whenever you had the chance. It started to feel as though you were pretending anymore and that this was really happening, even if you knew deep down inside that there was nothing to this. That it would all be over as soon as you got back to your dorms but for now you were going to soak up as much of his attention as you could get for yourself. 

"I don't like being blindfolded Joonie, it makes you think you're up to something," You whined as he continued to walk you through a bumpy area, you could hear gushing water and footsteps but that was all. He let out a deep laugh that seemed to echo around wherever you were and you whined again, 

"Relax, here-" He began to untie the make-shift blindfold and you let your eyes adjust for a second to see that you were somewhere you'd never seen before. It was a cavern that had a pool of water inside, flowers spreading over the walls of the cave, the walls and ceiling seemed to have silver reflecting on them because of the water. 

"Hot springs," He said with a smile, bending down to touch the water as it began bubbling, your mouth almost dropped open at the sight. 

"I didn't bring a bathing suit, you didn't tell me what we were doing," You laughed softly as you looked at him and then to the pool behind him, it looked as though it was going to be relaxing. 

"Is it deep?" He shook his head in answer to your question, 

"Probably reach your shoulders, there are some rocks just under the water we can sit on and relax." He promised as he began to unbutton the white shirt he was wearing, you gasped and turned away not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

"I didn't bring a bathing suit. I'll wear my underwear, it's just the same," He said as he looked at you, hoping that you would do the same but not once saying what he wanted out loud. 

The two of you sat there side by side in the water just enjoying the peace and quiet, Kyong had done nothing but follow the two of you around all week long leading you to "pretend" you were both together for as long as possible.

"This week has been one of the most amazing times of my life," You told him as you rolled your head over to look at him, your gaze meeting his as he smiled at you. You didn't know if it was the low lighting or just because our feelings for him were resurfacing but his eyes seemed to sparkle, as though they had a golden hint to them.

"Even with all this pretending, that's been going on?" He questioned as he looked at you, biting down on his lip as you shrugged, 

"There's been one thing that's bugging me all week." He sat up straight making you do the same as you watched him, tilting your head to the side as you waited for him to elaborate on what he meant.

"I don't want to pretend...I want to be yours and I want you to be mine." Closing the distance between your mouths, you kissed him. At that moment it was clear that everything you had been feeling that week, the sparks, the butterflies, was all real. Everything you felt for him he felt the same for you and it excited you. He placed his hands on your waist lifting you up and placing him on his lap under the water as you continued to make out in the hot springs. 

His teeth biting down softly on your bottom lip as he asked for entrance, which you gladly granted him, letting your hands wander into his hair as you tugged him closer to you. 

"We're not pretending?" He questioned as you pulled away to catch your breath, you shook your head desperately, 

"Never again," You whispered before reconnecting our lips with his, going back to your steamy make-out session in the water.

Namjoon left soft kisses on your shoulder as the two of you laid naked in the bed, looking out at the night sky as you cuddled with one another. The two of you had made it back late after your make out in the hot springs and continued your session in the bedroom where it lead to more. 

"I'll go get us a snack," He chuckled as he heard your stomach growling, even if it was almost 3 am you were hungry from the activities you had both done together. 

"Thanks," You kissed him softly as he changed into a pair of shorts and a white shirt, disappearing out of the door and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Letting out a small excited squeal you laid back against the pillows and smiled to yourself, you never thought this day would come and now it had, you couldn't contain yourself. Everything you had ever wanted was becoming a reality.

Time passed and Namjoon still wasn't back with your snack, you figured he was going to cook something so you laid there for a second, trying to rest a little before he came back not expecting to fall asleep within seconds of closing your eyes.

Waking up alone the next day you frowned to yourself, he was supposed to be beside you,

"Joonie?" You called out as you changed into some leggings and a baggy shirt thinking maybe he had gone for an early walk or something. You headed down to the kitchen shocked to see Kyong nursing a hangover but that wasn't the part that shocked you. The part that shocked you was that she was dressed in nothing but Namjoon's shirt, the one he had put on the night before to go and make a snack for you. 

"I made this, drink it." Namjoon's voice called out to Kyong as she smirked at you, turning her head to look over at him and that was when you saw the deep purple bite marks up and down her neck. At that moment it felt as though your whole world was falling apart as you put it all together, dressed in his shirt, he was looking after her and she was covered in marks.

"I-I can't believe it," The glass Namjoon was holding slipped from his hand and smashed against the floor, the green liquid splashing all over the white floors and cabinets while Kyong smirked. 

"Y/n, it isn't what it looks like." You scoffed at him, rushing back up the stairs towards the bedroom as you began throwing clothes into your bag, trying to get some money together as he begged you not to overthink it. 

"It's not what it looks like," He pleaded as he stood in the way of the door so you couldn't leave the bedroom, 

"Was she dressed in your shirt?" You questioned as you stared at him, his eyes widened with panic,

"Yes, but-"

"Was she covered in hickies?" You asked him again, cutting him off. All you needed were the answers you knew exactly what had happened. He fell back into her arms the way he always did, crawling back to her every time.

"Yeah, but that-"

"You didn't come back last night, were you or were you not with her?" His face fell and he didn't answer, tears rushed to your eyes as you pushed past him heading down the stairs and in the direction of the front door. 

"You can't just leave, we're miles away from home." He called out as he chased after you, Kyong holding onto his arm as she whined at him not to yell anymore. 

"That's my problem to deal with," You mumbled as you threw your bag over your shoulder and took one of the bikes, heading to town was the best plan for now. Once you were there you could figure out where to go by Kyong groaned at you, 

"They're for people staying on this holiday." Locking eyes with her you threw the bike onto the ground before heading down the long driveway, ready to start your long walk back into the town. 

"Y/n!!" Namjoon yelled as he chased you down the road, grabbing you by the hand as he made you look at him.

"You have to let me explain, I know how it looks." At this point your tears were already rushing down your face as you looked up at him, you thought that he would be the one person you could trust in the world. He knew how much it hurt to be cheated on and yet he still did it to you, was it even cheating? Were you nothing more than a fling for him? 

"What was it? I was just there until she decided she was jealous enough to take you back? Or were you both in on a joke about it, she knew I had a crush on you and thought she could get kicks out of it?" He didn't blame you for being angry but he held your arm as he tried to make sure you listened to him.

"You thought, I can't screw my ex so why not fuck my best friend over instead?" Namjoon's eyes watered as he stared down at you waiting for you to finish,

"How could you ever think I would hurt you like that?"

"Because you did-"

"No. I didn't. I went down to get you food last night and I found her, drunk and on the floor covered in her own vomit." You pulled a disgusted face as he explained what had happened, leading you over to a rock as he sat you down beside him. 

"She was covered in her own vomit, along with bite marks, hickies. She said she'd been into town for drinks and got a taxi back. I changed her into my shirt and took her to bed but she wouldn't go to sleep without me there," You looked at him, feeling bad for accusing him of doing the one thing you knew he hated her for doing to him. 

“I sat beside the bed the whole night, I didn’t get into bed with her, I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” He sighed and you realized how much you must have overreacted.

"Joonie..." You breathed out as you felt bad for everything, 

"I know what it looked like but I would never do that to you. I'm in love with you, always have been and always will be but I loved her too...She may have hurt me but she's still a person and someone I once cared for so I wanted to make sure she was okay," That you could understand, you knew how deeply Namjoon cared for everyone he met so you weren't going to hold that against him.

"Now, please...Come back so we can drive home together..." 

"Together?" You questioned as he locked your hands together, linking your fingers with his, 

"As a couple?" He questioned looking at you, making you smile brightly as you nodded your head. 

Tagline: @lyoongx  @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @innersooya @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @anxiousbobatea​ @justbangtanthingz​

[ambertea]

clever

Read on AO3

She’s six years old and she’s just won a certificate for Maths.

Her mum’s sitting at the back of the assembly, exchanging whispers to the single dad sitting next to her. Rose keeps looking back, trying to catch her eye, but instead watches her mother’s hand sneaking up a strange man’s thigh.

The headmaster smiles at her strangely, in a way she will later define as ‘condescending’ but in the moment she can’t wrap her head around.

“Well done, you clever girl.” He says, and Rose hates it. His clammy hand engulfs hers and Rose just blinks as he shakes it up and down.

The school claps dutifully and her mum is still not looking at her.

She’s eleven years old and she hates everyone in her class. They tease her in the playground, mock her in the classroom and the only safe haven is the tiny library. The librarian is old and odd, and she strokes Rose’s hair like she’s nothing more than a tiny doll.

“Don’t try so hard to be clever,” she tells her. “They’ll leave you alone.”

Rose leaves the library and never comes back.

She’s fifteen years old and GCSEs are utter bullocks. Mickey has already failed them all, already told her they don’t matter in the real world. She stays behind after school to sit in empty classrooms to figure out algebra and tells her mum she still does gymnastics.

She gets her results in a thick brown envelope and takes a quick glance at a long list of A’s before she chucks it in the bin.

“Pure shit.” She tells her mum. “Didn’t even try, anyway. I’m just not clever enough.”

Her mum throws her a party regardless, and Rose ignores the ache in her chest.

She’s seventeen and he’s fucking hot.

She’s told her mum she’s doing A-levels because she hasn’t figured out if she wants to do hairdressing or childcare. Instead, she doodles equations on the back of English papers whilst she waits for everyone else to finish.

She meets Jimmy outside the school gates and he’s smoking cigarettes and the smell gets right into the back of her throat. She tells him that it’s bad for him, and he tells her he could be bad for her. He’s right.

She drops out of school and her mother approves because it was giving her airs and graces. What her mother does not approve of is the filthy bedsit she moves into, where she cries as her boyfriend screams at her.

“You think you’re clever, do you?” he yells, and she shakes her head and whispers no, no, never.

She’s nineteen, fucking shop window dummies are after her, and a strange man is standing with her in the lift.

“’Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.”

“Good point. Well done.”

She’s wrong, but the praise bounces around her brain.

She runs off with him because apparently, that’s just what she does. Runs off with charismatic men, leaves her mother worried sick, because she is Rose, and Rose is not clever.

This man, however, is no Jimmy. He’s smart – so smart, any small attempts at intelligence still leave her feeling dumb. This is a comfort. She argues with him, thinks around him, and starts to feel a bit better about herself.

He’s sweet as well, and kind, and doesn't care when she asks too many questions. He shows her how to strip wires and repair parts of his precious ship, and they tinker away together in comfortable silences. Now and then, she properly impresses him, and he ignores the beauties of the universe and beams at her instead. It’s strange and wonderful and she tries her best not to disappoint him.

Then she is sent away, he is trapped, and it’s time for her to use her bloody brains only she’s not sure they even work anymore. He is dying, far in the future, but still dying, and she is watching her mum scoff down chips. She doesn’t want to go back to her old life, doesn’t want to play stupid anymore.

“Why, because you’re better than us?”

No, because she has learned what life is like when she tries, and she is not yet ready to stop.

She makes it back, using her brain and a fucking massive truck, and it is worth it if just for the way he is looking at her. He tells her she is fantastic and then explodes into a whole new man, with a lankier frame and wilder hair. He takes a long nap, and she is left to be useless once more.

She stands up in front of actual, breathing monsters and tries to copy words she’s heard, but her voice shakes, and her hands are trembling. They laugh at her, and she is eleven again, being teased by the nasty girls in her class.

He saves the day, because that’s just what he does, and she runs off with him again because his smile is still kind and their hands fit nicely. Cassandra sits inside her brain and hums with curiosity, poking around her mind like it’s a mildly interesting boutique.

“Not as thick as you seem, are you?” She whispers into Rose’s mind.

She’s inside some sort of spaceship and he is gushing over the accomplishments of Reinette de Pompadour. She already knows all this, knows who she is, but he is enjoying the sound of his own voice, so she keeps quiet.

She watches him carefully, notices the lipstick marks around his face and the ridiculous angle of his collar, and stamps down the familiar feelings of jealousy rising within her chest.

It had felt like they were growing closer. Their hugs had been lingering, hands held tightly at any available moment. She had thought something was growing, something small and precious and good. Clearly, she was wrong.

Reinette dies, and Rose isn’t glad, not really, but she watches him carefully afterward and wonders. Wonders why he keeps her around if he even wants her there. She tries to ask, but the words die on her tongue.

She has almost let the feeling go when she meets her father, a man who does not know her and apparently does not care to. She calls him dad and he runs, leaving her crying and shaking and so very vulnerable. She wonders, afterward, why. Why no one has ever wanted her properly, why it feels like no one has even met her in the first place. She sobs into her mum’s shoulder and wishes she had told her about the GCSE results.

Maybe it’s a good thing, she thinks later, that she’s alone. She has no real connections that make her want to stay at home, no real relationships that don’t leave her mentally exhausted. He is her grounding point, her focus, and he doesn’t think she’s stupid, not really, but he doesn’t think she’s clever either.

She knows she loves him; knows she will spend the rest of her life pining for him. It aches, having so much unspent emotion coursing under her skin. Feels like she could explode and implode simultaneously. But his eyes are so soft, and he is so worth it.

“We’ll always be alright, me and you.” She tells him. He just stares into the sky glumly.

“There’s a storm approaching.”

She hopes for a bit of rain but instead gets a fucking earthquake.

She’s twenty-one, she’s in a different universe, and she’s absolutely fine.

“How are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Speak to me, Rose, please.”

She doesn’t speak to anyone. Doesn’t even look in the mirror.

It’s hard to assign blame on a talking pepper pot, so instead, she blames herself. If she’d been stronger. Tried harder. Been cleverer.

She tells her mum this over a bottle of wine, and she just laughs.

“People like us aren’t clever, Rose. We’re survivors.”

She doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore.

She starts working at Torchwood. Starts sleeping at Torchwood as well. Pete gives her the job out of pity but is quickly astonished by the scale of the work she’s doing.

“You’re brilliant.” He tells her one night. Jackie scoffs.

“Brilliant? Hark at her.”

Rose ignores her. It doesn’t matter.

She sits through A-levels, and then university lectures, and then physics conventions with groups of boring boys who follow her like a bizarre squadron. She has a brother now, a tiny boy with eyes just like hers, and when she tucks him into bed, she whispers stories of the stars.

She creates a dimension cannon and brings it home to show Pete. He marvels over it whilst Jackie sniffs like she’s got a nasty cold.

“Just glorified jewelry. Face it, sweetheart. You’re stuck here with the rest of us. It’s time to get used to it.”

“Shut up,” Rose says, and she can feel her pulse banging away in her ears like a marching parade.

Jackie is spluttering, Pete’s eyes are wide, and Rose isn’t quite sure what she’s doing but she’s doing it anyway.

“I can do this. I am going to do this. So just shut up.”

She does do it. She flits around universes like students backpack around Europe, and it’s strangely healing to spend so much time by herself.

She meets tiny aliens made of glass who kiss through the refractions of light and hugs ginormous bear-like creatures who are surprisingly friendly and incredibly soft.

She searches for him, and it hurts and it’s hard but it’s also fantastic.

She gets through finally to a universe that should be right but is oh so very wrong. A red-haired woman screams at her, and Rose is finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.”

“Donna Noble, you are the most important woman in the whole of creation!”

“Oh, don't. Just don't.”

She tells her mum about her GCSE results because she can’t stop thinking about it. Her mum stares at her for a long while and then looks down at her hands. Rose has never seen her mum speechless before, doesn’t like it, so she just nods and leaves.

She finds him, and the feeling rushes right from her toes to the top of her head. She has done it. After all the effort and pain, she has found him, and the uncurling pride is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He gets shot and utterly ruins it, but the feeling lingers.

Her mum shows up at the worst possible time, but she is there, and she is looking at Rose so fiercely. When the situation calms down and they are safe, she pulls Rose into a tight hug and rubs her hands in circles across the small of her back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She whispers, and Rose quickly wipes her eyes on her shoulders.

She is dumped on the same beach she has had nightmares about for the last five years. She is left again, but this time she is left with a familiar man who whispers promises into her ear and holds her like she is something important.

He is looking at her like he’s hoping she might lead the way, and she knows how to do this now, knows how to think and plan and strategize. She kisses him on the cheek, watches the blush that spreads across his cheek, takes his hand, and leads him back to England.

She doesn’t take him straight back to the mansion, hates the idea of speech and silence in equal measure. Instead, she takes him to her lab, and he stares at her designs through startled eyes and stolen glasses. She fidgets in the corner of the room, and wraps her arms around her waist, waiting for his verdict.

He turns to her, whips the glasses off of his face and a look of quiet wonder spreads across his face.

“You’re brilliant.”

She squirms under his gaze, picks off an invisible bit of fluff from her jacket. He is still looking at her, and she tries her best to smile.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. These are so impressive.”

She’s still not sure what to do with the praise, but it warms her and fills all the cracked pieces of her soul with new and growing tissue. She kisses him, both because she’s not sure what else to do, and because she can, and he smiles against her lips. They break apart and he runs his fingers over her work, his eyes soft and curious.

“How did you do this?” He whispers, and something tender and precious burns gently in her chest.

“I guess I’m just clever.”