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angeltrapz · 3 years

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chainshipping ask time 💙💙 i wld love to hear ur thoughts on favorite albums they’ve shared w each other? + maybe the significance behind the albums.. hmmmvnfn also just more abt Adam being autistic— n maybe how it’d go down when Adam came out to Lar as trans?

tysm,,, 💙💙

music taste/sharing:

mmm that's a rlly interesting question!! I'm honestly not sure abt whole albums, but like I kinda think abt songs. I tend to give Adam my music taste since I feel like it'd be preeetty similar? so like eve 6, placebo, pup, the front bottoms, grandson, lucky boys confusion, etc.! I also feel like Adam is just one of those ppl who Loves introducing ppl to his music, so Lawrence has heard quite a bit of it. if he's super fond of a certain song + recommends it to you, that's his way of being like "hey I love u listen to this" and Lawrence Does, every time. good ones r enemy by eve 6, just one he rly likes, n blind by placebo, one that does remind Adam of he and Lawrence + that's why he shared it. (one of his favourites is nancy boy though and watching Lawrence hear that one fr the first time... an experience. amazing)

Lawrence's music taste... omg. I love this man sm. I Adore the hc though that he ends up listening to a lot of pop just bc diana loves it, so catch him humming the words to one of those songs while he's washing the dishes, tapping his foot n everything while Adam is cracking up at the table (but he's got heart eyes so). HOWEVER bc of this I also feel like Lawrence absolutely loves like. 70s thru 90s music. so like. NKOTB, the beach boys, wham!, beastie boys (can u IMAGINE this man rocking out to no sleep till brooklyn. Adam in the passenger seat like "holy fucking shit." now u have), bon jovi, chicago, peter gabriel, phil collins/genesis, etc.!! (Adam rlly likes older rock n so does Lawrence so they're both just like !!! and it's smth fr them to share!!)

but like one of his BIG faves is elton john. specifically, goodbye yellow brick road, honky cat, rocket man, and mona lisas and mad hatters. THOSE r the ones he shares w Adam, bc they're his favourites!! (ngl every time honky cat comes on Adam is just like "omg u fucking dork" but his face is Always 🥺... sometimes he plays it when Lar's having a bad day bc it helps a little bit,,) but ones he shares w Adam specifically bc it reminds him of them? tiny dancer + your song. it's not even that it's particularly fitting, just tht Adam comes to mind when he hears them, and Adam... needs a moment bc. omg. that is so fucking cute I love you??? oh my god??? (some of Adam's faves are bennie and the jets + take me to the pilot!)

Adam affectionately refers to Lawrence's music taste sometimes as a blend of dad rock + boy bands. it's jokes bc he loves that kinda music too sometimes but Lawrence is always like Hey. It's Good Isn't It? ejkhfja little jokey arguments omg. overall they're very open to each other's music taste and regularly are like "hey I heard this n it reminds me of you" and it's just rlly sweet.

more abt Adam being autistic:

okay so Adam has like. a pretty intense oral fixation. sooo many times Lawrence has caught him chewing on the erasers of pencils, the drawstrings on his hoodies, sometimes his nails (which is actually one of his more harmful stims, since he picks them down so far and ends up with really painful fingertips; Lawrence keeps an eye on that one and like. lets him know when he’s doing it bc sometimes Adam genuinely doesn’t notice), stuff like that. and like he talks to Adam abt his stims + abt what kind of stim toys r out there, so he kind of gets this idea to get Adam a chew necklace. Adam hasn’t rly had one b4 but he knows of them, so Lawrence gets the idea to just. surprise him w one!

he gets one fr moderate chewers bc he figures that’s what Adam is, and he’s honestly. veeery particular abt the one he chooses. like he puts more thought into it than he probably needs to kjdfkdlksj he’s like that when he gets Adam planned gifts, he can’t help it,, but! I like to think he gets this one fr him (which, again, is one I have in teal!) in claret, which is a deep red; he likes this one bc Adam could chew on it w his back teeth if he wanted + he could just hold it in his mouth if he wanted while he works on things. Lawrence’s not... nervous abt it, he feels pretty confident that Adam will at least like it, but he’s never like... gotten smth like that, so he’s a little bit anxious to see if it’s okay.

so when it actually arrives he’s careful that He is th one who gets the mail so he can keep it a secret, and then after dinner he’s like “so I did a bit of research n I know you like chewing on things so! I got u smth!” and he’s still a little shy abt it but Adam is already looking at him like... 🥺 you what?? so Lawrence hands him the lil box n is like “I wasn’t sure what specifically to get but I hope this will be okay,” and like. when Adam takes it out he’s just like. Oh. Like An Actual Necklace. and the first thing he does is put it around his neck and just pops it in his mouth to test it and the Look on his face is sooooo happy. he’s just like “I love this??? I can just Hold It!!” and Lawrence is happy too bc that was smth he thought about!!!

neither of them cry or anything like that but they’re definitely both just like “I love you so so much” @ each other. n after that Adam usually always has it w him; he holds it in his mouth when he’s developing photos, chews on it instead of his nails + when he’s feeling nervous, sometimes chews it w the back of his teeth while they’re in public. Lawrence is just so happy he likes it and Adam rlly appreciates the thought + loves tht Lawrence put so much thought into it,,,

I also kinda honestly like the idea that they Both get spinner rings? bc Adam gets one and Lawrence is curious abt it so he’s like “yeah try it see if u like it!” n Lar realizes that they’re actually pretty cool n wldn’t mind having one. he gets a rly simple black one while Adam gets a rly pretty metallic blue one, and it actually helps a little bit to calm Lawrence’s paranoia sometimes when they’re out n about,, I hc that after Jigsaw he still has issues w that a little so. it helps n it’s nice!!

to elaborate on smth I mentioned briefly b4, Lawrence is suuuper helpful w pressure stims!!! he gives the most amazing bear hugs and he gets rlly good at interpreting when Adam needs one (when he’s nonverbal, he just sort of. nudges Lar w his shoulder. Lawrence figures out what this means pretty early). he doesn’t mind giving longer ones too, if that’s what Adam needs. he likes being able to do that for him, knowing that it makes him feel better/at least happier when he’s not upset n just wants that pressure. and of course Lar is pretty fond of being close like that; it’s something he didn’t rlly allow himself before, so as long as Adam is okay w it, he loves being able to indulge that want.

to branch off of this, something they regularly do is Lawrence will stretch out on the couch or the bed and Adam will lay on him. he’ll have his arms wrapped tight around Adam’s middle, so there’s still some of that pressure, bc it helps to make Adam feel calmer + also just bc he likes it. they do this a lot during storms or just quiet nights in where they’re not rlly focusing on what’s on TV. I know I mention this one a lot in my fics but I’m So So fond of it,, Adam just lets out this huge sigh and Lar can feel the tension in his body start to seep out and it’s sooo nice. again, another form of closeness Lawrence adores + loves knowing it helps Adam too!!

mmmm little thing, Lawrence might not suuuper understand Adam’s echolalia, but he doesn’t make fun of it/tell him to stop, and that’s like. smth that Adam is so completely unused to. he’s not at all used to ppl just accepting it, having been belittled/punished/made fun of fr it by both his parents + his peers/teachers n other adults, so like he’ll be repeating stuff from movies/shows/memes (bogos binted...) or outlining the steps of a certain task he’s completing and Lar will just. nod. he’ll check sometimes, just 2 ask if Adam is talking to him, but he’ll just smile n nod when Adam admits that he’s not n so Adam stops feeling like... nervous abt expressing that around Lar and it’s nice. it’s good. I feel like Adam’s very at peace w being autistic, but he’s always been a little anxious abt that particular facet just bc of how much backlash he’d faced for it b4, so like to have Lawrence just treat it as nothing out of the ordinary/accept it as it is... it means a looot to Adam. so so much.

Adam coming out to Lawrence:

okay so I feel like this is def smth Adam was pretty nervous abt,, it’s smth that former partners hadn’t reacted particularly well to, and Lawrence is very very important to him + the most stable relationship he’s probably ever had (after they work thru things in the beginning of course), so he’s kind of worried abt how it’ll go. not that he thinks Lar is like, a shitty person like that - honestly, Adam rlly only expects to get some awkwardly-worded questions - but he’s been wrong b4, and while he rlly rlly hopes he won’t be this time, he can’t help feeling that anxiety.

and he tries to plan it out, he rlly does, but I think what happens is this: he’s doing his t shot in the bathroom (I don’t think he Intentionally hides his vial or anything, but it is behind stuff in the cabinet), the door’s not closed or anything bc he’s not using it/taking a shower, n Lawrence is walking around looking fr him n sees that the bathroom door is slightly ajar + hears Adam sigh as he completes the injection (he finds breathing thru it helps). so he walks in while Adam’s doing it, needle still in, and Adam just. freezes. and is like oh dear god hi. I am not doing drugs.

and there’s a brief pause before Lar just blinks and is like “is that testosterone?” bc I def feel he’s at least encountered one or two trans patients, so he knows a Little bit, and Adam just. doesn’t talk fr a minute. opens n closes his mouth, blinks, and nods, bc what does he say? Lawrence follows that up w “you’re trans?” and Adam nods again, still so very nervous, and Lawrence just smiles n is like “you know that’s fine, right? it’s okay - wait, were you nervous??” and Adam just NODS AGAIN bc he’s experiencing So Many Fucking Emotions right now, and Lar just proceeds to help him care fr the injection site after, bc he might not have ever done this task w t in particular, but he does know basics obviously.

it’s not until after Lawrence gently rolls a bandaid on that Adam talks, and his voice is so so small, and he’s just like, “I swear I was gonna tell you, I was just scared, not ‘cause I think you’re a bad person but like I’ve had ppl react badly and I wanted to plan it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to like keep it from you,” and he’s just babbling but then Lar just sort of leans down and hugs him and says, “I can’t say that I’m particularly knowledgeable about this sort of thing, but I love you, and you being trans doesn’t change that, okay? it’s fine. we’re fine.” and I don’t think Adam cries, but he gets very close bc of the relief and the love he feels. he definitely shakes a little bit, holds on a little too tight, but Lawrence doesn’t mind. he knows Adam needs this. so it’s okay.

Adam Definitely feels lighter after telling Lawrence, and he also stops hiding his t vial in the back of the cabinet. and he feels kind of goofy about how much better he feels, how he feels like there’s this huge weight off of his shoulders, but he decides it doesn’t matter bc Lawrence accepts him and only asks a couple awkward questions and he knows those questions don’t come from a place of malice, but from a genuine interest + wanting to gain understanding. + Lar does his own research too, a little bit, and it’s smth they talk abt sometimes. just... the fact tht Lawrence Wants to educate himself means a lot, bc he cld just... not? like his parents. but he wants to learn. wants to understand better. n that means everything to Adam.

(little side note I think is funny though: sometimes when Adam loses his packer he’s just like “Lar have u seen my dick??” and it’s. they both crack up over it oh my god. fucking dorks)

#saw #lawrence #adam #asks #long post #tysm!!!!!!!#I love getting asks frm u!!#I personally like th idea that lar is also autistic but this wasn't written w that in mind #ALSO I HOPE. adam coming out to lar wasn't. suuuper cliche or anything lmao #I take a lot frm my own trans experience but my experience is not universal so!!!#+ side note: I have a chainshipping playlist n I cldn't fit it in here but one of the songs on it is two coffins by against me!#do w that what u will #💙#again thank u th other night was shit n seeing this helped

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justabunchofproblems · 2 years

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You + me = happy Christmas Eve || Peter Parker x male! reader

why hello there ! i wanted it, so i made it. enjoy !

Andrew Garfield ! Peter Parker x male ! reader (he/him)

warnings : bad parents, parents arguing, mention of divorce, but it’s mostly just fluff. disclaimer : gif is from Pinterest. the story is an original one. maybe something like this has already been made, if so, i don’t know about it. again, english is not my first language ! i’m still learning it so, if u see any mistakes or misspelled sentences, pls tell me nicely in the comments or by private message. enjoy ! :)

(Y/N) heard them screaming, they were arguing in the living room, again. It was the third time today. His parents were on the edge of divorce and he did not understand at all why they were still together when they absolutely couldn’t stand each other more than three hours.

He took a deep breath, just after the entry door made a loud noise by closing. His dad probably just left and his mom was now surely going crazy by herself in the parents’ bedroom. Now it was clear that Christmas eve was cancelled. No family fun on this 24th of December, like so many before. Has it ever been good ? (Y/N) couldn’t even remember one happy family party were everyone was reunited. If by miracle it happened, the end was never good. It was always people screaming and embarrassed relatives around the dinner table.

But if it was only during this period, it would be fine. Of course, it’s all the time, since a while now. The last dinner he had with both his parents smiling and being happy to see each other happened when he just had ten years old, for his birthday night. And it’s only because they were at the restaurant.

Finally, when there were no more noises in the appartement, (Y/N) sent a message to his boyfriend, Peter Parker. Maybe it was too much, he was probably having dinner with his aunt and uncle, sharing a happy Christmas eve but, he needed comfort.

To : Pete <3

"My parents are arguing again. I guess Christmas is cancelled this year. At least for me. How’s yours ?"

From : Pete <3

"Owh, shit. I’m sorry (Y/N/N). Come at mine. Aunt May made food for too much people again. My folks will be happy to have you for dinner !"

To : Pete <3

"Are you sure ? I don’t want to bother them. It’s family reunion after all"

From : Pete <3

"Nah, it’s fine. Plus, I already told them. We’re waiting for you, hurry up !"

After sending at least a hundred thank you messages to Peter, he decided to wear something a bit nicer and went on his way to the Parker’s house.

—

When he arrived, there was some decorations in front of the house. The lights made (Y/N) smiles as he stepped in to the door before pushing the ring button. He heard Peter yelling something and only one second later, he opened the door with a big smile on his face. He pulled the smaller boy in for a hug before he had time to say anything. (Y/N) let himself go in his boyfriend arms, this contact being the exact thing he needed to feel better.

"I’m glad you came, it’s gonna be fun ! Come on, we’re eating in any minute now."

The boys went into the house, and sat at the table. The little group shared a happy dinner, laughing and talking about everything and anything. For the first time in a while, (Y/N) felt better and if he could, he would relive this moment for ever. He needed something like that after all those years with chaotic family dinners at his own house. The Parker family was like a breath of spring in the middle of a long and cold winter.

After dinner, Peter and his boyfriend helped to clean the table and went into the bedroom. They laid on the bed, listening to music by sharing earbuds, staying in the arms of each other.

"Are you okay ?" Peter asked when he saw the other boy take a deep breath.

"Yup, I’m perfectly fine. I feel… quiet. I only feel like that when I’m with you, away from all the chaos in my appartement."

The spider smiled and tightened his arms around (Y/N), feeling better too. Not long after that, they both fell asleep, without noticing the snow falling outside.

———

so, what did you think ? :)

update : +300 LIKES ??????? you guys are amazing thank u <3

up.update : it’s been a while since i wrote this… I can’t believe people are still reading and liking it, thank u so much 🫶🏻. i corrected some mistakes i had made two years that were making my eyes ball out (bail out ? ball out ? idk lol), now i feel better. i hope you guys still enjoy it. much love !

#peter parker x male reader #andrew garfield x male reader #spiderman x male reader #christmas fanfiction #marvel x male reader #marvel fanfiction #male!reader #andrew garfield spiderman

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charmingyong · 3 years

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Noxious Cherry (1)

Part 1 | Part 2

Genre: criminal!Taeyong x fem!reader

Warnings: psycho, deception, theft, shootings, swearing, car explosion

Word count: 2.7k

Plot: You found a pink haired man lying on the ground and decided to check up on him when you should have run away.

A/N: I AM OBSESSED WITH TY’S GTA! This genre reminds me of @taeyongtime’s Pre: Ace of Fools so do check that out if wanting another psycho read.

Gif: mine

- ❀ -

Finally home time!

The feeling of settling into your car after the end of your night shift was a pleasant one. You relaxed your head against the headrest and let the exhaustion from having to stand hours preparing the endless coffee orders leave your body before starting your car. You drove down the empty streets, a few nonfunctioning streetlamps creating a dim lighting along the sidewalks. Mindlessly, you passed by a park where a dark figure laid still on the ground.

Reaching a red light of an intersection, you thought back to the thing you caught a glimpse of earlier and something itched in you to go back and check it out. When the lights turned green, you made a U-turn and found the figure still there, unmoving.

Walking closer to it, you realized it was a boy with pink hair, eyes closed looking unconscious, though his chest rhythmically rose up and down. You squinted to get a better look of his face under the low lighting and did not spot a single scratch on the skin to hint any signs of him being injured.

Is he okay? you thought. Should I wake him up?

Worried that he could have been bruised under his clothes, you called for him. “Hello? Are you okay?”

Hearing your voice, his eyes fluttered open and his breath hitched upon seeing a beautiful face up close. You were relieved that he was alive, but grew uneasy when he merely stared at you, not responding back to you with words.

“Um, are you okay?” you asked again, hoping he would say something about why he was on the ground in the middle of the night.

He only groaned as he shifted his weight to sit upright, rolling his neck and shoulders in circles to alleviate the tensed muscles.

“Should I call the ambula-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off with a small glare. He couldn’t afford getting caught if he were taken to the hospital, especially when he didn’t even need to go there in the first place.

You bit your lip nervously, unsure what to do next. You didn’t want to be rude and leave him alone all of a sudden, but you really wanted to go home. Should you drop him home? Get a grip, Y/N! He was a stranger, and you couldn’t tell if he was safe enough to bring him inside your car. “But are you hurt?”

“It’s not that bad,” he replied. “Just take me home.”

Shit.

Looked like you were taking him into your car.

“Where do you live?” You hoped he didn’t live somewhere too far so you could get under the covers of your cozy blankets as soon as you could.

The boy cocked his head to the side and gazed at you in amusement. “Take me to your home.”

You were thankful it wasn’t summer just yet. Otherwise, mosquitoes would have entered your jaw-dropped mouth. Was he crazy? Why would anyone in their right mind ask to be taken to a complete stranger’s home? Especially one where you lived alone. “Why my home? Don’t you have one?”

He propped his upper body up with hands resting beside him, watching you with a dark glint in his eyes that you failed to notice. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The boy was adamant and wouldn’t take no for a response, making you pray to the Lords that nothing bad would happen when taking home the pink haired whose name you learned was Taeyong.

Your keys repeatedly failed to connect with the lock of your house. It was hard to when Taeyong’s intense gaze was fixed on your side profile. “Sorry,” you nervously chuckled. “I’m really tired from work,” you tried reasoning.

After struggling for a while, he snatched the key from your grasp and unlocked the door, pushing it open and inviting himself in. You stay rooted by the entrance, shocked that Taeyong casually opened the door and simply walked in as if it were his house.

Taeyong looked around your place, interested to see the soft-hearted person you were with various photos of your loved ones hanging on the walls.

“Do you need the first aid kit?” you asked.

He touched himself in the stomach and hissed. “Yeah.”

You nodded and went to search for the kit in the bathroom. When out of his sight, Taeyong plopped down on the sofa, letting out a long exhale and half smiled. He found it new and amusing with someone being concerned for his well-being.

With the kit in your hand, you took a moment to calm down your racing heart. Taeyong was not letting you feel comfortable for a reason that you failed to decipher. You met your gaze in the mirror and told yourself that nothing bad should happen. How could a wounded boy harm a girl?

You walked back into the living room and were relieved to see Taeyong resting on the sofa with his eyes closed. If he wanted to harm you, then he wouldn’t be lounging around like that. “I brought it.”

He hummed and opened one eye. “You can leave it there and head for bed,” he said nodding towards the small table in front of him.

“Don’t you need any help though?” What if he had any wounds on his back that he couldn’t reach?

Taeyong clicked his tongue. “I’ll be fine.”

“I have a guest bedroom. You can sleep there,” you offered.

He shook his head. “I’m fine here.”

“But the sofa isn’t-”

“I’m fine.”

You bit back your tongue, letting him decide on his own what was best for him. It was odd that he wouldn’t opt for a bed to let his body relax and heal faster. “Okay, I’ll bring you a pillow and blanket then.”

“I don’t need them. That throw will be fine.” He pointed at one draped over the armchair.

Were you being too pushy? Why was this guy refusing everything that you were kindly offering? “Okay… I’ll head up then. G’night.” With that, you hurriedly went up to your refuge and finally called it a night.

Once the coast was clear, Taeyong pulled off his denim jacket and shirt over his head, observing his skin.

Flawless skin.

Not a single wound spotted.

You’re a cute one, he thought and smirked to himself.

- ❀ -

You took Taeyong out for shopping the next day, as per his so-called request. It was more of a demand. You didn’t understand why he was staying at your place but decided to keep your mouth shut and hoped that he’d leave you soon.

While you wandered around the cosmetics section, Taeyong left your side, his eyes catching interest of the sparkling diamonds department.

“Hello, sir. What would you like to see?” the woman behind the counter asked sweetly.

Taeyong paid no mind looking at her and locked his gaze on a specific 2 carat round eternity engagement ring in 14k white gold. “How much is that?” he pointed at the ring enclosed in the display case.

“Twenty-five thousand dollars, sir.”

Taeyong let out a whistle and propped his elbow on the casing. He turned around to search for you, finding you try on a couple of samples on your skin, and his lips curled up when seeing you pleased with the products.

The man not being by your side gave you some time to calm your heart down. You didn’t know why you felt that way with Taeyong when he hadn’t done anything to harm you. Something warned you from the inside to not trust him, even though he hadn’t done anything to invade your privacy at home. You were glad that he chose to sleep downstairs and so a part of you grew fond for him despite the short time.

Then what was this feeling that you probably made a grave mistake for helping him out last night?

You put away the product testers and searched for Taeyong, spotting the pink one easily as he leisurely passed by two security guards and picked out a pistol from its holder without them knowing.

“What the…” you breathed out. What was this guy going to do with a gun?

Taeyong made his way over to the fire alarm system and pulled it down. A loud, 3-beep pattern resonated throughout the store and numerous customers panicked, dashing out the building while the guards tried to figure out what was going on. The boy walked back to the diamonds where the employee was still there, frantically locking everything up before leaving for safety.

“Give me the ring,” Taeyong ordered. His blank expression made the woman not take him seriously and ignored him. Just when she was about to leave the counter, Taeyong held up the gun at her forehead and repeated. “Give me or I’ll shoot you.”

“B-But th-there’s a fire!” she cried. She didn’t want to die from the fire, or from the gunshot, or from her boss that she gave one of the most expensive rings away for free.

“There’s no fire. Quit wasting time or I’ll shoot.”

The guards caught up on the situation. “Hey you! Put that gun down or I’ll shoot you!” one said, while the other informed the situation through his walkie talkie.

Taeyong grabbed the woman in the blink of an eye, holding her as a shield with the gun pressed against her temple. “If you come near me, she dies.”

The guards backed away and held their hands up. “Okay okay! Let her go, man.”

I will, but after I get my ring, he thought.

He pulled the worker behind the counter, keeping her in front of him, and ordered her again. She obeyed, the fear of having to die from his gun scariest than any other consequence she’d have to face later. “D-Do you want the r-ring casing?”

“Just the damn ring.”

She handed it over with shaky hands. He shoved it inside the pocket of his jeans and shot the two guards down. The woman screamed and he pushed her away.

“Chill. I won’t kill you unless you get in my way.”

He sprinted to your rooted spot where you silently watched the scene unfold. Taeyong pulled you out of your shock self when he grabbed your hand and darted for the exit, letting your feet automatically respond to his action.

“Pass me the car key,” he instructed.

You didn’t want to, not when he shot two people in front of your eyes. But you chose to trust him than get caught now that you were technically his partner in crime. You both rushed to your car with him diving into the driver’s seat while you in the passenger. The police sirens could be heard from a distance and Taeyong wasted no time and slammed on the accelerator without putting on his seatbelt.

He went over the speed limit, overtaking the slower cars in the lanes as he tried to widen the gap between him and the flashing red and blue lights. A red traffic light was fast approaching, and cars were lined up ahead. But the boy made no plans to pull the brakes.

“You need to slow down!” you screamed.

The pink haired peeked at the rearview mirror, spotting the cops not too far behind them.

“Taeyong, stop!” Right before he could touch the stopped vehicles, he swerved the car abruptly to the empty lanes.

The lanes for the opposite direction.

You pulled at your hair, close to losing your sanity. “Are you fucking trying to kill us?”

The cops took a while to decide on the next course of action before following suit. He smirked, pleased with himself. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m good at this.”

Traffic was ongoing perpendicular to your direction and you were horrified with what the psycho was planning to do next. Without slowing the speed, Taeyong sped through the intersection once spotting an opening. Cars screeched to a stop and honked at the maniac driver.

This was a nightmare.

The very nightmare that the pink haired found thrilling.

Once on a street clear of any other vehicles besides yours and the police, you shouted, “I’m feeling fucking sick!”

“Hang in there. The show’s almost over.”

Wait…

What?

He checked the rearview again and the spacing was perfect. There were only two cars after them, making it easy for his plan to work.

Taeyong slammed the brakes and turned the steering wheel all the way, spinning the car 360 degrees. You screamed and held onto the handle tightly, shutting your eyes.

“Hold the wheel,” he said.

“What?”

He grabbed your hand and placed it on the steering wheel. “Hold it,” he directed. After you did, Taeyong pushed your head below the windows, clear from his aim. He lowered the glass barriers and shot at an incoming auto, aiming perfectly at the one in front of the other which resulted it to swerve out of control. This caused the one behind it to collide and flip over onto its roof. And not too long after-

BAAM!

It exploded into flames, ending the chase.

Taeyong stepped out of your new car and you followed, slamming the door shut angrily. “Why the fuck did you do that?” Your eyes moisten from the intense anger that built up inside.

He rounded the vehicle and stopped in front of you, alarming you when he suddenly grabbed your hand.

You tried to yank your hand free, but his grip was tight. “What the hell are you doing?”

His hand dug in his pocket for the stolen ring and slid it onto your ring finger. “I got this for you,” he spoke quietly while admiring the beauty that rested on your hand.

Your rage died for a moment, puzzled that he’d do such a thing to get you a ring. “Why?” Tears fell from its place and you wailed. “Why did you do it?” You never asked for any of this, from the theft to the shootings, to him even changing your car at a dealership who he was well acquainted with.

Taeyong shrugged coolly as if it was no big deal. “Just felt like it. I saw it and I wanted to get it for you. Usually I steal cars, so be honoured that I stole a beauty like that for you.” He winked at you and walked inside your house.

You took a moment to scream your frustration out, almost kicking the car before deciding against it. Walking in, you found the boy sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed.

“If you wanted to get me it, then you should have paid for it like a normal person would!”

He peeked at you through one eye. “Do you know how much that’s worth?”

It was a no brainer that it was expensive. But exactly how much… “No.”

“Twenty-five grand.”

Talk about getting all the wind knocked out of your lungs. That was nearly how much you’d make in a year and you were not going to wear it.

Especially when it was involved in a criminal act.

You ripped it off your finger and chucked it at him. He swiftly caught it as if he expected that reaction from you.

“Get the fuck out of my house! And don’t you dare show me your face again!”

Taeyong slowly sauntered to you, a predatory look in his eyes. You backed away from him trying to keep a distance until your backside met the wall. He trapped you in his arms, resting his hands on either sides of your face and wore a smug smile. “I can. But what will happen to you?”

You blinked and attempted to gulp down the ball forming at the back of your throat. “W-What do you mean?”

He lifted one hand off and showed you the ring. “They’ll be looking for this and footage from the security cameras will show that there was a boy and a girl that left together with the ring.”

Oh crap.

“I’m an expert at running away without getting caught, sweetheart. But if you don’t want to get caught, then you’ll have to keep me around. I’ll make sure both of us will be safe.” Taeyong leaned close to your ear, whispering with a hot breath that sent a shiver down your spine, “It’s my specialty.”

#nct #nct 127 #lee taeyong #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fanfic #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #charm

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jay-wells-writes · 3 years

Text

Fixations (Harry x Reader)

**So the other day I went to get my septum pierced but it turns out that I don't have the sweet spot for it and she refused to pierce it. She asked me what else I wanted to pierce. I thought about my lip again but then I thought about how it could heal because I wouldn't let it heal. Well that of course sent me here and to this story. So I REALLY hope that you all like it.**

Looking up from a file you saw Cisco and Harry making their way to you. Seeing Harry for the first time in months you couldn’t help but turn slightly pink as you felt your heart skip a beat. Of course when you took a peak at him you could see the smile on his face and knew he had noticed. Once they had reached you, you turned back around and began walking into your office.

“Hey y/n, by any chance have you been able to find that note book I missed placed?”

“I did. It was sitting next to the couch so I just placed it in the top drawer in my desk. I need to fax these so go ahead and grab it.”

Turning to face the fax machine you had only been half listening to Cisco’s and Harry’s conversation. But hearing Cisco’s voice raising slightly you quickly turned around to see him hold your extra large bag of hard candies.

“Why am I just now finding out you have all these sweets?”

Shaking your head you walked over to Cisco and pulled the bag from his hand while reaching into the drawer for his notebook.

“As an ex-smoker I needed something to curb my want for a cigarette.”

Seeing Cisco’s eyes turning big you watched as he turned to Harry before turning back to you.

“YOU used to smoke? When…. How…” In his shock Cisco turned back to Harry. “Did you know that she used to smoke? Because this is the first time I am learning about it!”

Harry for the most part stuck his hands into his pockets and raised his shoulders.

“Wasn’t my place to tell.”

“So you KNEW?”

Rolling his eyes Harry shook his head.

“YES Ramon I knew. I caught her smoking outside late one night. But as I said, it wasn’t my place to say anything. Besides it isn’t that big of a deal.”

Turning quickly to you Cisco raised his hands.

“IT isn’t a big deal! It’s just I am shocked that I never noticed! I mean every smoker I have been by smelled like it, but not once did I smell it on you.”

Chuckling you placed the bag of candy back into your drawer.

“I only smoked because of my fixation. I was able to go without a cigarette as long as I had something to either suck or chew on.”

“Fixation?”

Looking quickly you could see that Harry was trying his hardest to keep his mouth shut and you had to look away before you started to laugh.

“I have a really bad oral fixation and smoking gave me something to do with my mouth.”

Almost instantly you could see Cisco’s face turn red, as his mind went where it shouldn’t have. And you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

“Right, well thanks for finding this for me.” Turning to Harry, Cisco was quickly making his way out the door. “Now I can show you the calculations to the idea I had.”

Chuckling quietly you watched as Cisco left, but before he followed Harry made sure to give you a wink, that had your face burning.

It hadn’t even been 10 minutes when you heard the in office messenger going off on your computer. Pulling it up you saw that Harry had sent you a message.

Harry-I have something better then some candy for your “fixation”.

Biting your lip you quickly typed out a reply. To which Harry was just as quick replying back.

y/n-Promise promise.

Harry-I will be by your office at 7 and this time Cisco isn’t there to stop me.

Looking at the clock you realized that it was 5 and you still had paperwork that needed to be finished that night. Opening your drawer you pulled out a couple of pieces of candy and tried not to think about Harry and 7 o’clock.

Two hours later and a handful of candy you were putting the files away when you heard your office door opened up. Turning around you saw Harry standing in your doorway holding a couple of Big Belly Burger bags. Closing the cabinet you leaned against it as Harry stepped further into the office and shut the door. Once the door was closed you couldn't help but make a smart ass comment.

"That wasn't what I expected you to have for me."

Laughing loudly Harry sat the bags of food down and sat down on the couch. You couldn’t help but watch as he rub his hands up and down his thighs a couple of times before he lowered his face.

"Oh trust me, this isn't what I had in mind. I just figured you could use more to eat than the candy you have in that drawer."

Smiling you made your way over to Harry. Standing just in front of him you couldn’t help but sigh when he shifted to the edge of the couch so that he could rub the back of your thighs.

"Hmmmm. You're gonna make me wait?"

Laughing as he pulled you forward, Harry had you in his lap just long enough to kiss you before shifting you into a position that had your back resting against the arm of the couch with your feet in his lap.

"Oh trust me, I will not stop you. But you gotta remember Big Belly isn't so good warmed up."

Pouting just a little bit you held your hand out.

"Give me the food."

As the both of you sat there and ate, Harry told you about his visit back to Earth 2 and you filled him in on what had happened while he was gone. Eventually the food was gone and Harry began to rub his hands over your calves.

"So the urge to smoke hasn't been bad?"

Smiling you shook your head.

"There have been times where I wanted one, but I managed not to give in."

"How much candy have you gone through?"

Laughing, you shifted yourself so that you were sitting on your knees. Placing a hand on Harry’s thigh you gave him a smirk while his hand moved to your lower back and rested just above your ass.

"Believe it or not, I haven't had to suck on many pieces."

"Oh? And how did you manage that? Last time I saw you, you were extremely frustrated without something in your mouth."

Slowly bringing your hand closer to Harry's cock you looked down and noticed he was becoming hard.

"Hmmm, that was true. But what you gave me was so much better than candy. So when the urges got bad. I would remember how you felt and tasted in my mouth. I would also remember the promise you made that night of always having something to keep my mouth busy and that it was mine as long as I didn't pick up another cigarette. I mean those are some pretty good rewards for not smoking."

By the time you had gotten done speaking your hand was resting over Harry's cock and you began to grind it against him. You could feel Harry’s fingers as they dug into your back and you watched as he rested his head on the back of the couch and let out a long moan as he closed his eyes. Even as you slowly began to play the buttons on his jeans Harry kept his eyes closed. He didn't even say anything when you managed to open his jeans up and work your hand into them. If he hadn’t shifted into a more reclined position after you pulled his cock out, you would have thought he had fallen asleep.

Licking your hand you wrapped it around his cock and began to work it up and down. Even though Harry’s hand slipped to your ass he continued to keep his eyes closed as he let out sighs and moans that shot straight down your body. Smirring some precum over the tip of his cock you pulled your hand away as you spoke Harry’s name. When he finally opened his eyes you smiled as you shifted yourself into a different position.

“Eye’s open. I am sure you aren’t going to want to miss this.”

Wrapping your hand back around his cock you closed your own eyes as you finally wrapped your lips around him.

Almost instantly Harry was cussing out as he thrusted lightly into your mouth. Smiling around him you could feel Harry gathering your hair in his hands as he spoke.

“I forgot how great your mouth feels. So warm and wet.” You could feel Harry’s hands as they tightened in your hair when you began to move. “Y/n, please.”

You didn’t even need to know what Harry was asking because the whine in his voice already told you what he wanted. Taking your mouth off of him you began to move, causing Harry to let go of your hair. Slowly standing, so that you could get feeling back into your feet, you moved away from the couch and Harry. Looking back at him you smiled as you once again dropped down to your knees.

“Why Harry, are you wanting to fuck my mouth? Cause I thought that you were my reward for being good and not smoking?”

Standing quickly Harry made his way to you. Wrapping his hand around himself you watched as he pumped his hand over his cock a couple of times. Standing in front of you, you looked up at a smiling Harry while he gathered your hair in his hands.

“Trust me y/u, I will make it up to you. It’s just been so long and I didn’t have time to myself. So I know this is going to be over very quick. Like a high school boy getting some for the first time."

Chuckling, you began to run your hands up his legs.

"I guess it's very important to take that edge off."

Saying nothing more you relaxed your body and opened your mouth as Harry stepped closer. Feeling the tip of his cock against your tongue you couldn't help but dig your fingers into his legs as you moaned out. Pushing past your lips Harry wasted no time thrusting in and out of your mouth. The grip on your hair tightened as Harry began to groan loudly as he stuttered over broken words. To your surprise Harry hadn’t been lying when he said it wouldn't take him long because after what seemed like a couple of minutes you could hear Harry warning you.

"Close y/n, so damn close. Damn I wish I could last longer then some teenager but shit I can’t. God you feel so ama- SHIT.”

Opening your eyes you watched as Harry stepped back and bent in on himself as he came. Standing up you made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a handful of paper towels.

Walking back out you couldn’t help but giggle at Harry as he stood there, his cock out as he tried to contain the mess he had in his hand. Going up to him you handed him the towels. While he cleaned his mess up you smiled as you nodded down.

"Need a hand?"

Chuckling Harry lifted his hands slightly and pushed his hips out. After making sure he was presentable, the both of you gathered the garbage and headed towards the elevator to head downstairs. Once the elevator door shut Harry was pushing you into a corner and placing his face into your neck.

"You know you're not the only one with an oral fixation. I have been dying for you to sit on my face and fuck it."

#the flash #harry wells #harry wells x reader

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hellpark · 4 years

Text

TOKEN: zzz.z..zz.......,.z.,

PHONE: *fucking buzzes*

TOKEN: mhmgngh .h guh...

TOKEN: Huh...

TOKEN: Damn... I fell asleep...

TOKEN: Who’s even calling me--

TOKEN: Oh it’s Nichole.

TOKEN: Hey, babe...

NICHOLE: Token!

NICHOLE: Hi.

NICHOLE: Oh no, are you falling asleep?

TOKEN: No... I promise, I’m awake.

NICHOLE: Okay sure, sle py head.

TOKEN: Mmh...

TOKEN: Is everything alright?

NICHOLE: Um...

NICHOLE: I guess?

NICHOLE: I don’t kn w.

TOKEN: What does that mean.

NICHOLE: Ummmm... I think I’ll explain it when we’re at the farm.

NICHOLE: I just want d to call you and let you know we’re abo t thirty or four y minutes out still?

NICHOLE: How d d you guys even get so far?

NICHOLE: We saw y ur car on th way out of town...

NICHOLE: It was still in flames!

TOKEN: One of the guys... like... poofed us here...

NICHOLE: “Poofed?”

NICHOLE: “One of the guys?” Your fri nds???

NICHOLE: Baby you g tta make more s nse than that.

TOKEN: No... like...

TOKEN: A good... demon.

TOKEN: Or I guess he said he wasn’t a demon... like...

TOKEN: I dunno.

TOKEN: He helped take us here and then left.

NICHOLE: Je us, and yo ju t trusted him?

TOKEN: Not really...

TOKEN: He was just really bent on helping us...

NICHOLE: Th t’s re ll w

TOKEN: Babe... you’re starting to cut out...

NICHOLE: I k ow, w re go g t rou th mou i s...

NICHOLE: W ’l e t ere s n.

NICHOLE: I ove y u.

TOKEN: I love you too...

TOKEN: See you soon.

TOKEN: [yawn]

TOKEN: Man...

TOKEN: How am I supposed to stay up this late...

TOKEN: Today’s been so wild...

KENNY: Hey, uh, Token?

TOKEN: Mn...?

KENNY: How’s Nichole and the others?

KENNY: Not to, like... eavesdrop or anything...

TOKEN: Mm, it sounds like they’re scared...

KENNY: Makes sense.

TOKEN: She said they’re about half an hour out still.

KENNY: Damn. Sure you won’t fall asleep before then?

TOKEN: Yeah I’m gonna try and stay awake.

TOKEN: Shouldn’t be too hard.

KENNY: I feel that.

TOKEN: What about you?

TOKEN: What has you so wide awake?

TOKEN: Just about everybody but Craig is asleep now.

KENNY: Yeahhh...

KENNY: I guess I just can’t sleep.

KENNY: Got stuff on my mind.

TOKEN: Yeah, don’t we all...

KENNY: Heheh, yeah.

KENNY: So, um.

KENNY: I was just wondering, since Craig wouldn’t dare let me-- and considerin’ how he’s feeling, I don’t blame him--

KENNY: Could I borrow your phone?

TOKEN: My phone?

KENNY: Yeah.

KENNY: I’ve been feeling pretty bad about today.

KENNY: I kinda had a manicure appointment scheduled.

TOKEN: A-- A manicure?

KENNY: Karen.

KENNY: You know how she paints my nails and such.

TOKEN: Oh, right.

KENNY: Yeah, I got her a new color and she was real excited to try it out.

KENNY: Promised her I’d help her test it.

KENNY: Also considering everything that went on back in town, I’m also just a lil worried in general.

TOKEN: That’s understandable.

KENNY: I sure hope it is!

KENNY: But um.

KENNY: Yeah, could I give her a quick call?

TOKEN: Of course, dude.

TOKEN: Take your time.

KENNY: God, thank you.

KENNY: Times like these I wish my phone wasn’t long busted, y’know?

TOKEN: I really don’t.

KENNY: Haha, yeah, you wouldn’t.

TOKEN: Do you think she’d even be up this late?

TOKEN: We have school tomorrow and all...

KENNY: Oh, probably.

KENNY: If my parents are awake this late-- which they definitely are-- she’d be awake too.

TOKEN: Alright, well...

TOKEN: Like I said, take your time.

KENNY: Thanks dude!

KAREN: I totally didn’t even expect that, like!

KAREN: That show is so good with being really realistic, but also keeping the suspense up that makes you all “oh my gosh, who did it...?”

KAREN: Not that either of those really have to be sacrificed for the other, just!!!

KAREN: I like the show a lot. I like watching it with you.

KAREN: Would you maybe wanna watch more tomorrow after sch--

KAREN: ?

TRICIA: Wow, who’s calling you this late at night?

KAREN: Oh...

KAREN: Maybe my parents...?

KAREN: I don’t know if I should ignore it or if they’d be more mad if I didn’t take it...

TRICIA: I’m surprised they even noticed you were gone.

KAREN: Yeah... I--

KAREN: I better just take it.

KAREN: Um... hello?

KENNY: Hey Karen!

KAREN: Oh!

KAREN: Kenny?

KENNY: In the flesh phone.

KAREN: How are you calling me?

KAREN: Isn’t your phone broken?

KENNY: Yeah, borrowing a friends.

KENNY: How are you?

KAREN: I’m okay-- um.

KAREN: Are you okay?

KAREN: Where are you?

KAREN: You didn’t come home from your friends so I just thought you didn’t want to be home tonight, or...

KENNY: No, no trust me, I wanna be home more than anything.

KAREN: That’s the first time I think I’ve ever heard you say that.

KENNY: Haha.

KENNY: Well I just wanted to say I kinda got caught up in some weird sh-- some weird stuff.

KENNY: I didn’t mean to skip out on nail painting.

KENNY: I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise.

KAREN: Oh, well um...

KAREN: I kind of already painted my nails...

KENNY: Oh.

KENNY: Well... how do they look!

KAREN: Good! Tricia helped me.

KENNY: Tricia, huh?

KENNY: Did y’go and see her tonight?

KAREN: Maybe...

KENNY: Hey, beats home.

KAREN: Totally.

KENNY: Well, tell Tricia that Craig says he loves her and wishes he could be there to keep her safe.

KAREN: Oh... r... really?

KAREN: Tricia, Kenny said that... *Craig* said that... he loves you? And wishes he were... home to keep you safe?

KAREN: I don’t really know why he’d be saying that.

TRICIA: Um, ask him what he’s on and then tell him I hate him.

KAREN: I’m not gonna say that!!!

TRICIA: He’s literally across the hallway from me, why is he being weird.

TRICIA: Why is your brother telling us this.

KAREN: Oh... yeah, um--

KAREN: Kenny, Craig is already home in his room.

KAREN: Did he tell you this earlier?

KAREN: Is everything okay?

KENNY: No, no, Craig’s here with me and the guys.

KAREN: Tricia, my brother says Craig is hanging out with Kenny.

TRICIA: Um, no?

TRICIA: I just heard his door close like two minutes ago.

KAREN: Kenny, Tricia’s pretty sure Craig is home.

KENNY: He super isn’t.

KENNY: Craig, say hi.

CRAIG: Don’t tell Tricia I love her tell her what the fuck is wrong with you.

KENNY: See?

KENNY: Wait--

KENNY: Karen, is there someone else in the house with you guys?

KAREN: Um, just her parents... but they went to sleep a few hours ago.

KENNY: Karen...

KENNY: Whoever’s messing around in Craig’s room is not Craig.

KENNY: We’re nearly fourty miles out of town at Stan’s farm.

KAREN: Huh...?

KENNY: ...

KENNY: Lock the door and turn off the light.

KAREN: Tricia, Kenny says we need to lock the door because...

KAREN: Um.

KAREN: There might be someone in the house... with us...

TRICIA: That’s bullshit.

KAREN: But--

TRICIA: This is a prank.

KAREN: Kenny wouldn’t play a trick on me...

TRICIA: Yeah, and Craig’s too boring, but his friends aren’t.

TRICIA: They’re probably all in on this.

KAREN: But... maybe we should still listen?

TRICIA: No, that’s what they want us to do.

KAREN: I don’t--

TRICIA: Trust me, it’ll be fine.

TRICIA: They’re just trying to scare us.

TRICIA: We can’t let them get to us.

KAREN: T-Trish--

KAREN: Wh-what if it is someone else in the house?

KAREN: What do-- what do we do???

KAREN: I’m scared...!

TRICIA: Karen, if it really is someone bad, I’ll protect you.

TRICIA: I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

KAREN: ...

TRICIA: (Just stay quiet...)

TRICIA: (They’re probably expecting to hear us...)

TRICIA: (Turn your phone down, I can hear your brother yelling on the other side.)

KAREN: (U-um... okay...)

TRICIA: ...

TRICIA: See?

TRICIA: I knew it.

TRICIA: They’re just trying to fucking scare us.

KAREN: Is that Craig?

TRICIA: Too short to be Craig, probably their idiot friend Clyde or something.

TRICIA: HEY!

TRICIA: You’re not tricking us.

TRICIA: Stop shitting on our night you freaks, get a life!

KAREN: T-Tricia, your parents are sleeping--

TRICIA: They’re heavy sleepers, trust me--

TRICIA: Are you listening to me? Get the fuck out of here and don’t try and scare Karen again.

TRICIA: I’ll kick ALL your asses if you d...

TRICIA: If you don’t... g...

KAREN & TRICIA: a...

GREGORY & ESTELLA:

TRICIA: Okay maybe your brother was right.

KAREN: T-T-Tricia I think th- I think we should close th--

KAREN: We sh-should close the door, I, um. Um.

TRICIA: Yeah.

TRICIA: Okay.

TRICIA: Tell your brother sorry and hang up.

TRICIA: We’ll lock the door.

KAREN: K-Kenny um.

KAREN: Yeah there’s someone else here.

KAREN: Sorry.

KAREN: I love you.

KAREN: Talk to you soon.

KENNY: Wait-- K--

#south park #token black #craig tucker #kenny mccormick #karen mccormick #tricia tucker #nichole daniels #gregory of yardale #estella havisham #hellpark #This one was fun!!!#they're all fun but this one was very fun.

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justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

Text

Don’t Breathe | 5.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of borderline Stockholm syndrome and Lima syndrome, brief mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, guns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DO NOT love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 - pt.5.5 - pt.6.0

a/n: this is a heavy and wordy chapter so bare with me, we’re almost at the finale! thank you for reading and i hope u enjoy!💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie @tangledsparkles @yes-sol-not-soul (sorry :( tumblr won’t let me tag you) @sarzkh31

When you woke up this morning, you felt nauseous, sick to your stomach. Last night, while you were sleeping, he packed up some basic necessities and put them in his car. He said Yeosang would be by soon to officialese everything and that you could relax until then. But you can’t, you’re head hurts so bad, you want to throw up.

“I was in the other room but I didn’t hear you get up, I would’ve made you breakfast,” Taehyung leans against the bathroom door frame and watches you, you’re dressed and he’s wondering how he missed you waking up and showering. You’re busy brushing your teeth, still wanting to pass out from how bad your headache is, but you decide against it.

“Did you sleep well?” You nod, spitting in the sink with the running water. He tilts his head, already picking up on your change in demeanor. Taking a step towards you, he lifts your chin to get you to look him in the eye, “Hey, I know that face, look at me,” Concern coats his expression and you will yourself to finally look at him, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m just- I don’t know, I’m nervous about all of this,” You walk past him into the bedroom, the beautiful bedroom you’ll probably never get to share with him again, “what if things don’t work out? What if your friend can’t help us, then what?” You sit on the edge of the bed, hugging yourself at the thought, the terror you would endure if this all went south. “I’m scared, I have this bad feeling, it’s making me really uneasy...”

“I know,” Taehyung can’t say he’s never had those thoughts, it plagues his mind too. The thought of no longer having the comfort of each other, the joy in your smiles and laughter being taken, it’s scary. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands into his with a light squeeze.

“I know it’s scary, and we’re taking a huge risk,” He tilts his head, puppy-dog eyes peering into your weary ones, “but I promise, I’m doing what’s best to keep us safe and together, alright baby?” He caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand, but the affection makes you pout rather than feel better.

“Hey, and guess what? Once this is all over, we’ll be shopping at local markets to buy fresh produce for us to cook with,” He smiles, trying to lighten up your mood with the dreamy idea, “we can paint whatever we can get our hands on, with whatever paint you want, you can write stories and poems during picnics, we could do whatever your heart desires, we’ll have a new life together,” He thumbs at the backs of your hands, tugging at your heartstrings to get you to smile. “I’ll even get you a puppy if you want one, doesn’t that sound perfect?”

You can’t help but form a little grin at the thought. “It does...”

“That’s what’s waiting for us bunny, we just have to wait for a little while,” He sits up to cup the back of your neck and places a firm kiss on your lips, so soft and warm but short-lived when he pulls away, “so give me a little smile, please?” You oblige, smiling down at him and he pinches your chin with a giggle.

"There you go, that’s my sweet girl,” He stands up and takes you with him, arms wrapped just at your thighs to keep you above ground, “why don’t you go get a few paintings to take with you, while I pack up a few things, and you can wear my favorite bracelet for good luck,”

”Pack?” You sigh, feet hitting the ground when he let’s you go. He slips off the black threaded bracelet and tightens it around your wrist with a smile. “Do you want me to help-”

“You go, I got it,” He holds your head in his hands and kisses between your brows with an audible smooch which made you laugh, “go on.”

With a pat on your butt, you’re making your way out of the bedroom and down to the basement. When you get down there, you realize the number of paintings you have. There are about ten to fifteen finished paintings and the others are unfinished. The little story that’s being written is illustrated in this painting, wonder and lover is illustrated in these paintings. In your attempt to pick a few, you notice the little cushion he got for you months ago. Sometimes, it doesn’t even register to you that once you were stuck down here, fighting and dying to leave this place. Now you’re almost in tears at the thought of having to leave.

But you’re new life is ahead of you, you should be happy.

Leu is facing a political nightmare, there’s a chance he won’t recover from this. Scandals happen all the time, affairs, bribery, on rare occasions, perjury. But seldom is a man of his prowess busted for abetting in multiple murders. There’s no coming back from this. He’s been tracking the phone for a few weeks, and only recently did he realize it was active recently. He completely missed it. When he arrived at the police station, he gave one of the detectives the phone number to hopefully track. He’s been waiting in a room filled with computers and busy interns, just waiting for results. When he considers leaving the room for another bland coffee, he gets a phone call. Looking down at the screen, he sees who it is and decides to answer it.

Yoongi dismisses himself and steps into the hall, “Hello?”

“Jin told me you all found the person who hired the group that killed all those people and took Y/n, is that true?” She sounds hopeful.

“We found him. I can’t reveal too much but we’re hammering down on the search, trying to track the location of the cellphone.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Her voice falters a bit, “there are some sick people out there, I just pray she’s not with one of them.”

He has to cut the call short when one of the tech people waves aggressively to get his attention.

“We just got a location,” The woman beckons him back into the room, “it’s about an hour and a half away from here, in what looks like one of the upper-class neighborhoods on the east-side.”

Yoongi walks over to the computer, eyes skimming over the estimated location of the cellphone. “The phone was traced to that location?”

He’s surprised that your phone would be in such a nice area, but then again he knows what the Hwan Group has been rumored to do. They’ve sold they’re victims to high-paying old men and women who’re looking to fulfill their sick desires in innocent people. It’s repulsive. He can’t help the churn he feels in his stomach when the thought of a person being used like that crosses his mind. In his career in the FBI and even as a PI now, he’s seen some shit. And no matter how many times he’s walked in on dead bodies, shackled victims, bloodied crime scenes, seeing people mistreated makes him sick. But what keeps him doing this is the chance, the small but promising chance that the victim might be alive.

“How long was it on?”

“Not sure, but it was turned on about 2 hours ago and then shut off, must’ve died,” She types a string of letters and another tab pops up, “this is the address.” Promptly, the printer in the corner of the room spits out the paper with the address and she rolls her chair over to it.

“If she’s anywhere, here is your best bet.”

The room is filled with men in black gear, heavy leather boots, and guns on their hips. When Minho gives the word, they all pile into the van and Minho gets in the backseat of his car—he tells the driver to wait before pulling out.

“Shit,” He lets out a deep sigh, dress-shirt feeling too tight on his neck. “he brought this on his self, he brought this on his damn self and he didn’t give me any other choice, right?”

Jimin sits beside him, nodding his head in agreement. “Absolutely, he can’t blame you for this, he knows the price of the job,”

“Doesn’t make it any easier, out of everyone, he was the last person I thought would pull something like this, I still don’t fully believe it-”

“Well,” Jimin interjects, making a thoughtful expression, “maybe he did kill the target and he’s just being hush-hush about it, the girl could’ve put up a fight or- I don’t know, anything could have happened.”

“Maybe,” He takes out his phone, pressing a contact, “but I’m going to give him one more chance,” Waiting for a few seconds, deep down inside he hopes Taehyung will answer. Sadly, the call goes to voicemail and he sets the phone down and sighs, there’s nothing else he can do.

“He didn’t answer, he’s buying time,” Jimin confirms the inevitable, “he knows what he’s doing, it’s best we confront him now.”

Minho pats the back of the driver's chair. “Go ahead.”

He was plundering through the drawers when he found your cellphone stacked on a small pile of books. Assuming he’d be able to wipe it, he tucked is into the little bag along with a few of the books he knew you liked to read. Packing up this stuff reminds him of the night he took you from your house, the night that changed his life. It had been after so much time watching you, learning our lifestyle. He knows now that if he had a chance to learn all of that about you in a different circumstance, like as friend that would slowly morph into something more, he’d take that chance.

The buzzing of his phone pulls him from his thoughts, thinking it was Minho again, he was about to ignore it, but he peeks at the screen to see that it’s Yeosang. Quickly, he answers the call and presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Good news, the condo is in your name and ready to go. The bad news is, the flights have been delayed due to bad weather, it’s about a 2-hour delay, could be more.”

“Shit, that would happen,” Taehyung presses his temples, “how close are you?’

“About 45 minutes? Something like that. Do you want me to get her to the airport and you drive separately or do you want me to-”

“If you pick her up that’ll be fine but I was hoping for both of us to get out of here sooner than that,” He zips up the backpack and leaves the room with the flick of the light, “Minho tried to call me and I didn’t answer, he knows something,”

“I want to help you guys,” Yeosang stresses, “maybe you could drive all the way and take a flight from a city further down.”

“That might work if I leave right now,” Taehyung mentally flips through his options and the possibilities are starting to grow slimmer in his mind, “you know what, listen out for me, I need to get her ready. I’ll call you back when we’re in route.”

Taking the little bag with him, he goes downstairs and searches for his computer, but he realizes it’s packed away. He was going to see if there were any loose strings that he might now have noticed.

That’s when he hears a heavy knock on the door. He stands frozen, waiting for a second knock. There is a second knock and a booming voice from the other side.

“Kim! I know you’re in there.”

it’s too late, he’s here. Without a second to lose, he runs down to the basement where you’re peacefully admiring your first painting.

All of a sudden, he hugs you and the painting falls from your grasp, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, he’s here,” He goes to turn off the light and you pick up the painting down to put it back, barely registering what he’s saying, “you need to hide while I buy us some time.”

“Wha- What? No, I want to stay with you,” Your hands are shaking and you feel like you’re getting that sick feeling again—this can’t be happening. “Tae, don’t leave me, what if something happens to you?-”

“Shh, it’ll be okay, I need you to hide under here,” He guides you over to the tiny space under the staircase, gesturing for you to kneel down. You do as he says and he kneels in front of you, every fiber in his body telling him to stay by your side, but he knows he can’t. He holds you in a warm embrace as if it was the last time, he always does it like it’s the last time. “It’s okay, just stay here.”

With that, you’re left in the pitch-black basement, curled up under the stairs, and wishing this was all just a bad dream. But the sound of the front door opening gives you the confirmation that this is your worst nightmare coming to life.

He opened the door a few minutes ago, Minho and Jimin had pushed past him to get inside, about ten suited-up guys follow and the door slammed on there way in. With little struggle, they had Taehyung sit on the couch while Minho paced in front of him as his team tears the place apart.

“I didn’t want to do this to you.” That’s the first thing Minho says.

“I can see that,” Tae responds plainly.

“You brought this upon yourself you know,” Minho stands in front of him, hands in his pockets with a cold glare on his face, “whatever the hell you were trying to do, it’s over now.”

Taehyung stays quiet, pissing Minho off even more.

“Do you know what you’ve done to this organization? We’re on the radar because you took that woman. Now the cops are involved, they’re onto us and they won’t stop until they find her. Why choose to go rogue now? Your contract ends in a year and you decide to spend it ruining your reputation? Out of everyone in the company, you were the last person I thought I’d have to worry about, you were my absolute best, and now that’s all gone to hell,” He bites his bottom-lip, getting impatient with Taehyung’s unchanging demeanor, “do you even care?”

He just stares at him blankly.

“Nothing upstairs,” About three guys come from downstairs.

“Downstairs is clear,” The others emerge from the other parts of the house, also empty-handed, "no signs of a body or that anyone else was living here sir-”

“Check again!” Minho snaps, kicking the coffee table across the room with a loud curse, “Look outside, tear the damn place apart if you have to, she has to be somewhere.”

He goes on and on, going red in the face he’s so livid, Taehyung was his favorite. The fussing becomes a bit repetitive to Jimin, so he decides to go off and do his own search, that’s when Tae gets truly nervous for the first time, Jimin has a knack for finding the unsuspecting.

Footsteps can be heard throughout the entire house. You only flinch when you hear a loud thump, like a table being thrown or broken against the wall. You brace yourself, placing your hands on your ears until the footsteps cease. You breathe in and out shallowly, trying to listen for Taehyung. You haven’t heard him once, not one sound.

Your heart drops when you hear the high pitched squeak of the basement door opening. Light slips into the darkroom. Heavy footsteps on the stair-well reverberate against your ears.

He’s a painter? He would be, wouldn’t he? A man mumbles to himself. Peeking from behind the wooden beam that’s shielding you, you see a man with shiny black hair looking at your paintings. You close your eyes and cover your mouth, tears pricking at your eyes from the sheer suspense of it all. Your body is shaking, sweating and the need to gasp for more air becomes critical to your sanity. But you hold it in, you block out the rapid heartbeat pounding against your rib-cage.

“Where are you...” He speaks clearer now as if he knows you’re here as if he knows you’re trying to block him out. Eyes squeezed shut, your curl in on yourself, trying so hard not to make a sound. His footsteps become louder, his shadow appears on the wall opposite of you like a lurking monster, seeking to cause you nothing but terror. In contrast, he hums a little song softly.

If you close your eyes, he’ll go away, just close your eyes and he’ll go away.

“There you are,” You look straight at him and your fight or flight kicks in. You try to make a run for it but he easily grabs you, “hey! Stop- Stop fighting, I’m not gonna hurt you! Calm down-”

You scream but he clamps a hand over your mouth. Squirming violently, you try to bite his hand but he removes it before you can. He fights to drag you upstairs as you cry out for help. “Let go of me!”

When Taehyung hears your cries, all that goes through his mind is that he has to be with you. He darts past Minho to get to you but one of the guys tackle him to the ground. He calls out to you anyway, “I’m here! Y/n, it’s okay,”

Minho’s thrown off by what he thinks is a loving tone, “Keep him down.” He orders the men as he waits for the squealing female to be brought to him.

“Here she is, found her hiding under the staircase,” Jimin emerges with a smile and a red scratch on his brow courtesy of you, “she is very much alive.” He drops you on the ground in front of Minho. On your hands and knees and you look up with weary eyes.

“Oh Taehyung, you’ve been hiding her this entire time, you lied to me,” He kneels in front of your trembling form, head tilted and a hand reaching out to cup your jaw, “she is a pretty little thing, I get it. But if you wanted to keep her, why didn't you just say so? That could have been arranged,” You jerk away, “I just never thought you were the type to want toys like this.”

“That’s not what this is, she’s not a sexual object,” The men pull Tae to his feet and he finally sees you, on the ground, paralyzed with uncertainty, “I’ve been protecting her from you.”

“When have you ever protected a target from me? You take the job, I never force you to take a fucking job, Kim. This is your fault because you missed her and then had to go back to the job, then you watched her for too long and got attached, the very thing I warned you about that when you first joined.”

You look back at Taehyung, searching for some type of comfort in his eyes, but you’re stalled by the painful sting in your scalp, “Ow!-”

“This woman?” He fists your hair, pulling you to your feet. You grasp his wrist to try to loosen his grip but it only tightens, sending a burn down your back tears to your eyes. It’s deliberate torture for Taehyung to watch because he can’t do anything about it.

“This fucking woman should have been dead, and since you fucked everything up, I have to take care of her myself. But I don’t get it, you’ve killed dozens before, she shouldn’t have been a problem, but you got obsessed and she just had to be yours, didn’t she? That’s pathetic.” He shakes his head, disappointed.

“Do you not remember? You signed the contract for 7 years, you don’t get to experience real love in this job, and you know that better than anyone. How could anyone love you after what you’ve done? You’ve told me that countless times, what’s with the sudden change in heart?”

Taehyung looks away for the first time, it’s all true, when Tae signed the contract, he was sure he’d never have to worry about being attached to anyone. He didn’t love anyone, and no one loved him or ever could, so the job was perfect. No worried messages from a mother, disappointing looks from a father— if he has no one, there’s no one to disappoint, no one to secretly hate him. He ruled out the possibility that someone would ever want to love him, truly love him. Then came you and he loved, he was loved.

“She doesn’t deserve to this, she doesn’t deserve to die. She didn’t do anything wrong,” Taehyung looks into in your eyes, trying to communicate to you, trying to think of a way to get out of here, “I swear, if you touch her-”

“Don’t give me that shit, you’ve killed all kinds of people, good, bad and in between, what makes her any different?-”

His sentence is cut short when Taehyung suddenly jerks against the men holding him and he gets free. He gets a hold of the gun and points it at Minho. Your hair is released but the man now holds you with an arm anchored around your neck.

“Let her go,” Taehyung takes short strides towards you two as the barrel of the gun stays square to Minho’s forehead, “you know I’m a straight shot, I could kill you right now,” He cocks the gun, the action making you shutter, “get your hands off of her.”

“You won’t do it,” Minho is already holding it to your head, arm secured around your neck. “if you kill me, you kill her, that’s not what you want,” He shoves the barrel against your scalp and you bite your lip hard to stop from sobbing. “I will kill her if I have to, then this will all be over. But if you put that gun down, and do exactly what I say, she stays alive, I promise.”

“Tae- Taehyung,” You manage to choke out, clawing at Minho’s arms frantically, “please-” He tightens his grip on your poor neck and that’s when Taehyung raises his hands in surrender and he’s immediately brought to his knees.

“Alright! Just stop, stop! She can’t fucking breathe! Please,” As soon as they take the gun, Minho throws you on the hard floor and you gasp for air, coughing violently as you brace on your hands and knees, “do what you want with me, just don’t hurt her.”

“Huh,” He groans, clicking his teeth in contemplation, “since you are my favorite and you’ll probably never see her again, why don’t you give her some love before you go? I’ll give you that at least.”

Taehyung down looks at you then at Minho. “What?”

“I’m giving you a chance to say goodbye,” Minho nudges you with his hand, making you flinch, “hurry up before I change my mind.”

The men are still holding him, his arms behind his back. He bites back tears as you sit frozen, mirroring his pained expression. “Y/n, it’s okay,” He calls for you, pulling against the retrains, “come here, baby,” You begin to crawl over to him, but you’re still hesitant to get near the people holding him, “let go! What the fuck do think I’m gonna do?!-”

“Let’m go, he won’t do anything stupid.”

Once he’s freed, he cocoons you in his arms, his body is warm and his energy is calm as he cradles you close. Minho stops to observe a version of Taehyung he has never witnessed before. He’s on his knees, holding you to his chest as you cling to him. Your knuckles must be white from how hard you’re gripping his shirt. Your eyes are squeezed shut, you’re shaking, petrified with the thought of never feeling this again. You can’t live like that, you could die without this. “T-Tae, don’t let them t- take me, don’t let them take me-...” You hiccup through your sobs, holding on to the little bit of affection that might be the last.

“Shh, I’ll fix this,” He whispers just low enough for you to hear, “I promise...”

You feel his hand go to your hair and he pulls your head back to bring your lips to his—you can’t live without this. He parts his lips, kissing you as if you two were the only ones in the room, as if you’re in bed, heart-to-heart, feeling loved. Shamelessly, you push against him for more and you can taste your tears, are those your tears and his tears?

“My God,” Minho tucks the gun back in its holster with a scoff, “from the looks of it, you’d think he actually loves her.” Minho makes a thoughtful expression, smirking down at Tae who’s resting his head on your shoulder as you hold him tight. He signals at Jimin who’s watching the scene with interest, “Okay, that’s enough.”

The embrace is broken when you’re ripped away and Taehyung is tackled to the ground with loud cursing. You let out heartwrenching sobs, eyes glazing over with sheer horror, “No! Please! I’ll do anything, I won’t say anything about this I swear! Just don’t do this, please!”

Minho dismisses you entirely, more interested in Tae’s reaction. “That’s all it takes?” Minho walks over to him, laughing when Jimin and another guy struggling to hold him back, “Years of training and killing, and it only takes her to break you?”

“Go to hell.”

Minho shakes his head with a sigh, pitying him. “Put her in the car.”

Yoongi is in the car with two other officers ready to give the signal any time now. He knows something is going on but whatever happens, he’s determined to get you home safe. When he looks into the house from the car he sees a shadow pass the front window.

He holds the button on the com. “We’re moving in now.”

It was a blur when it all happened. You were crying and being dragged away from when the door burst open. Officers stormed the house. Guns go off and your ears ring painfully. They rush in and so many people are everywhere—your oasis, your little paradise is being made a battleground. You cry when the man holding you bumped into a vase and drops you near it. He flees out the back door, but you’re frozen, everything is in disarray but the one person you do see is Taehyung who’s being handcuffed along with so many others. He mouths something but you can’t make it out. He shakes his head, you don’t know what he’s saying, what is he trying to say?

“I’ve got her, she’s here!” A man is yelling to the others, you didn’t register he was kneeling beside you.

“Y/n, we’re here to help you, you’re safe now,” He moves to block your view from what’s happening behind him. You don’t verbally respond, but your eyes are teary, breathing rapid, lips trembling.

“She’s hurt! I’m taking her out.”

You’re having derealization episode, or a panic attack, or both. You might be looking at him, but you’re acting like you don’t know where you are, you’re not even aware of the wound on your leg.

Who is this man?”

“Who are you?...” You speak for the first time, and you pear at him with wavering eye-contact, his eyes look kind.

“Yoongi. I’m going to pick you up, is that okay?” You nod after he wraps your leg tightly with his jacket, he lifts you into his arms and carries out of the house.

You can’t see Taehyung, you don’t know where they took him. Yoongi notices how you twist in his arms to look behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone or something, he doesn’t know. All you see are a bunch of officers and Minho’s people being cuffed and shuffled into squad cars.

You’re taken past all of the squad cars and put you in the back seat of a black SUV and Yoongi disappears. A woman kneels down to tend to your leg, when did your leg start bleeding? You frown down at her when she cuts you pant-leg, tossing the denim to the ground, she notices instantly.

“My name is Chloe, sweetheart. I’m a paramedic, I just need to stop the bleeding until you can get stitches,” Her lips are moving, you know they are but you have no idea what she’s saying.

She mumbles to the man beside her, an EMT, give her the shock blanket. With a small nod, the man scurries off and returns with a silver tarp-like material and wraps it around you with gentle hands.

That man called Yoongi comes back and he’s talking on the phone with someone, he pushes back his middle-parted black hair and gets in the passenger's seat. Chloe finishes wrapping your leg and gently puts your legs in the vehicle, hooks you in your seat-belt, and promptly closing the door to seal you inside. This is too much, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You start heaving, hand on your chest and body rocking back and forth to soothe yourself. They think they’re saving you, they’re not saving you.

They’re tearing everything apart.

“Wait one second,” Yoongi moves the phone from his ear and looks back at you, the color has left your face completely. Your hands are shaking and it feels like there’s a heater right in front of your face.

Yoongi reaches his hand back to get you to calm down but you don’t even look at him, your stomach aches all too much for you to acknowledge him. “Y/n, breathe, okay? You have to take deep breaths and calm down, you’re safe-”

You kick the door open and you’re expelling any food you had left in your stomach on the curb.

He sighs, quickly unbuckling his seat-belt to, “I’ll call you back,”

“We brought her to the infirmary,” Yoongi paces outside of the room, “looks like the place was being ransacked when we got here, we don’t know who the culprit is but the most important thing is that she’s safe now. When the doctor thinks she can undergo questioning, I’ll head over.”

“Good. The other officers arrived not too long ago, a majority of them won’t talk but they’ll stay in holding until you get back,” Eunwoo pauses, “how’s she doing? Is she all there, are there any signs of abuse?”

Yoongi sighs, taking a seat on the bench. “Don’t know yet, she hasn’t talked much. I don’t know if we should do the questioning today but I’ll talk to her after the doctor talks to me,”

“Alright, let me know when you’re headed over.”

It smells so sterile, you want to throw up again but you settle for staring at the nurse who just finished bandaging the stitches. When she leaves, another woman comes in.

“Y/n, how are you feeling?” She adjusts her glasses, getting a little closer when you don’t respond. “Everything is happening so fast, yeah? I can’t say I know what you’ve been through, but I know you're probably overwhelmed.”

You nod.

“I won’t bombard you with a bunch of questions, I’m just here to make sure you’re physically okay. Your vitals are good but is there anything going on with your body that you might be concerned about?”

You shake your head no, not maintaining eye-contact by any means—she notes that.

“Okay, do you mind if I check to make sure everything's okay? I’ll need your consent to do a full-body exam and I’ll have a chaperone with me, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I 100% understand.” Again, you nod with a small yes when she asks for verbal confirmation. She puts on some gloves before instructing you to sit on the edge of the bed and she goes to get a young woman in sky-blue scrubs.

He’s been waiting for about an hour and he stands to his feet when the woman comes out of the room with a clipboard.

“How is she?”

She holds the clipboard to her chest with a sigh. “We finished the physical exam, and there are no signs of sexual abuse or physical abuse, she’s quite healthy considering. As far as her mental health goes, it’s hard to tell right now. She’s obviously really overwhelmed by everything, this is probably going to be a trauma that she lives with for a while, she’ll need a psychiatric evaluation. I know you’re apart of the investigation but if you want to question her, talk to her to see how she feels about it first.” She walks off to the nurse's station but turns to say one more thing.

“You know, I heard about her in the newspaper, her news publisher has a whole story on her. Thank God she’s alive, not all stories end so fortunately.”

Yoongi walks past her and into the room quietly, you look up at him and then down at your hands.

“Do you feel a little better?” He walks to your bedside, eyes drifting down to your bandaged leg.��

“H-...How did you find me?...”

“We’ve been looking for you nonstop. Today we were finally able to track your cellphone, we only hoped you’d be at that location. It’s been 8 months since the day you were reported missing, and for 8 months I’ve made finding you my main priority.”

You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “It’s been 8 months?...”

“I know a lot is going on but we need some answers from you. I understand if you’re feeling up to it, but would you be able to come with me and answer some questions for us at the police station? If you don’t feel up to it then-”

“I’ll do it..” You answer too quickly.

Just like that, you’re at the police station sitting across from Yoongi and the officer over the investigation, officer Cha Eunwoo. They gave you a glass of water and you’ve chugged it down. You’re so jittery, your mind is everywhere.

“Y/n, do you know why you were kidnapped?” Eunwoo comes back with another cup of water and you watch him sit back down.

“I was told it was because of a politician who had it arranged that I be killed...

Yoongi writes something down and you swallow, wondering what he’s writing down.

“The house you were rescued from, is that where you’ve been living?”

“Yes...But-” You bite your lip, tears welling up in your eyes, “...I’m not hurt, the person I was with kept me safe, the man I was with, he's not the bad guy...”

The two of them look at each other puzzled, then at you. They question whether they heard that correctly.

“Who? Y/n,” Yoongi begins softly, “are you saying you were being protected?” You nod, pout ever so present on your lips. “Who was protecting you?”

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from saying his name, you shouldn’t say his name. They don’t know who he is yet, and maybe there’s a chance he’ll get out of this. As your mind reels, the two of them watch you, teary eyes laser-focused on the black bracelet on your wrist.

“Can you tell me who was with you in that house?” Yoongi asks again but you won’t look at him now. “Was it multiple people, or just that one person?”

You press your lips, nodding subtly. “It was multiple people?” You shake your head. “So it was just him,” He glances up from his notepad and you don’t indicate an answer, so he takes that as a yes, “did you ever leave the house?”

Eunwoo stands to his feet, stirring curiosity from you and Yoongi. “Min, can we have a word in private?”

Albeit confused, Yoongi nods, following the officer out into the other side of the two-way mirror where the other officers are.

“The hell? She was just giving us some good information.”

“Let me take this over, we have about a dozen people and we need to identify and interrogate all of them. But right now, we need the man who did this to her, that’s all.”

“She might not respond well to that, she’s obviously troubled, the pressure isn’t going to help.” Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eye. “I think she trusts me a little more, so I should finish this.”

“I’ve interrogated hundreds of victims before, I think I can handle this. You can step in if she gets irate.” Yoongi can already sense how there’s an obvious shift in your demeanor when you notice that Yoongi’s isn’t accompanying him.

“Y/n, what happened to you was not your fault, but the person who did it needs to be dealt with. You were kidnapped, held hostage against your will, and no matter what that person might have told you, there are people who care about you that have been looking for you. You’re a victim and the person who did this to you will not get away with it. The man who had you and multiple others killed is already in our custody, he stands trial tomorrow. Now, we just need to get the others. Can you help us do that?”

You look at the one-way mirror. “Where’s the other guy, Yoongi, why didn’t he come back?...”

He evades the question. “Did he ever tell you his name?” Eunwoo glances at the one-way mirror before softening his tone. “Y/n, do you know his name?”

You frown, looking down at the bracelet on your wrist. “Does my family know I’m here?...”

“Y/n, we are going to let your family know but you have to realize what’s going on here. Senator Leu, who is standing trial today, hired someone to have you killed, but they didn’t kill you and we need to know why. Is he threatening you?... Is that why you won’t tell us anything?”

You swallow, throat feeling incredibly dry, face heating up. You chug down the second glass of water, it only cooled you down for just a moment.

Yoongi watches with a trained eye. You having to talk to Eunwoo alone was not a good idea. Gathering that this interrogation is going to end pretty soon, he decides to go ahead and contact your family.

“I don’t feel well,” You blink slowly, handing going to your stomach, “can I get some more water?...”

“Sure,” He can’t deny you water, but he knows when someone is avoiding questions, “but before I get that, I need you to tell me who did this to you.”

You look at him and like a rehearsed scene, you queue the tears. The discomfort on Minho’s face indicates the foolish decision he made to interrogate you alone.

“Y/n,” He looks you over and wonders why you keep messing with the black bracelet on your wrist, “that’s a nice bracelet, is it yours?”

Wiping your tears, you scramble for an answer, “Yes, it’s-...It’s mine.”

“So, if we ran a DNA test on it, the only prints on it would be yours?... Or, was this bracelet given to you by someone, maybe by the man who had you all this time?”

You lower your head onto the table and cover your face with your arms, Yoongi presses his temples—you’re not budging, but Eunwoo insists. In the meantime, he decides to step in the hall and make a few calls to your job, family, and friends.

“Why does it matter!?” You snap, eyes burning red. “It’s mine and if you want it, you’ll have to pry it off of my dead body, I won’t let you take it off for anything, it has nothing to do with this...”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be, you know that, don’t you?” He reaches into his pocket and holds a fist in front if you.

“Remember this? Suzy said you wouldn’t be caught dead without it, but it was on the floor in your house. Is that bracelet just as special as this?” He opens his hand and there sits your favorite necklace, the one your parents gifted you years ago. As much as you love that necklace, this bracelet is just as special, it’s a piece of Taehyung.

You ball your fist, tears welling at your eyes, you don’t care. “Just leave me alone, I don’t wanna talk anymore...”

He sits on the uncomfortable steel bench, arms cuffed behind him. It’s dark, cold, and dreary, but the interior of this place is the least of his worries. He’s never been on this side of the bars, despite deserving it. The gate slides open suddenly, Taehyung can feel the guard's presence but he doesn’t bother looking up.

“Come with me.”

Without a word, he obliged, picking up his feet with heavy strides. The guard holds his arm tight, leading him through the halls to find interrogation room 12.

“Is interrogation room 12 open?” The guard talks to the officer standing at one of the many rooms lining the hall. The two of them strike up a conversation but Taehyung is listening to the conversation down the hall.

“She’s alright, I called her job and her mother, and Jin,” Yoongi paces, peeking down the hall to see the third culprit brought in for questioning, “there will be a lot of happy people when they find out she’s okay.”

“That’s great, I’m glad, I know the last case you had didn’t go this well,” Jungkook flips through the phony contracts that his recent client was given to sign, “I’m about to leave the firm so I’ll have to call you tomorrow, but if you need me to help with the case just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi bids him farewell and slips the phone in his pocket. The lawyer had helped a lot in the last missing person case Yoongi was involved in, the victim was in rough shape. It was a young woman kidnapped by an ex, it wasn’t a pretty outcome. The shape they found her in will always be ingrained in his memory, it haunts him that he couldn’t get to her sooner.

Yoongi walks down the hall and Taehyung watches him. He tries to do it in a subtle way, but that’s the man that carried you out of his home while he was being cuffed and pushed into the back of a cop car. Anger bubbled in his chest, the inability to call out to you, to take you into his arms, it hurt him to his core.

Yoongi spares him a glance before going back into the one-way mirrors viewing room and the door closes, preventing him from seeing inside any further. You’re a wreck. It only takes a few seconds for Yoongi to see you balling your eyes out as Eunwoo paces around you to barge in there to put a stop to it.

“I know you’re scared but you need to stop covering for that Man. You’re safe, he can’t hurt you now-”

“Hey,” Yoongi looks at him as if he’s grown a second head, he whispers, “stop, she’s completely shutting down. She needs to be physiologically evaluated before we finish this, look at her,” He gestures to you who’s trembling, breathing hitched with our inability to stop crying, “we can’t do this right now.”

He sighs, pulling Yoongi to a corner, “I’m sorry, I just, I hate to know that somebody did this to her and she won’t say anything, her Stockholm syndrome is on another level.”

“The owner of that house had to be the one who did it, just go to the research lab and they should be able to tell you. I’m taking her to the Melody’s Heart temporary safe house until her family can pick her up tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’m going to step out for a minute.” With that, Eunwoo leaves the room. it takes Yoongi talking you down for about 2 minutes to finally get you to stand up and walk with him. You sniffle, rubbing your eyes as Yoongi walks you out of the room and into the hall.

Taehyung is right there.

Your eyes widen and your gait slows, he’s right in front of you. Yet, the only thing connecting you is your gaze, this can’t be all there is left of your love. Yoongi leads you down the hall and you pull against him slightly. He notices your staring and that when the pieces come together. That’s him.

“Open room 12, officer Cha wants to have him interrogated separately.”

Taehyung watches you disappear, he can’t say anything and he can’t do anything. He gets pushed into the room and into a hard steel chair.

It’s sunset, they drove you about 20 minutes away somewhere, you weren't sure. A woman opened the front door to a huge house, and Yoongi opened your car door, helping you out with a hand. He walked by your side and went inside with you to sign some papers. The woman was kind, she had curly brown hair she was speaking to you with the softest tone. She kept saying you were strong, why was she saying that? With Yoongi lingering behind you, the woman that you know now as Melody takes you to a bedroom on the first level of the house. She said they prepared the room for you, there was even a change of clothes with toiletries on the bed.

“Can I get you anything, sweetheart? You’re our only resident tonight, so I’m all yours.” She’s nice but you don’t feel like company, you don’t feel like looking at any more new faces. You shake your head and she nods in understanding,

“Alright, then I’ll be here if you need anything, Mr. Min, I’m sorry but officers are actually not allowed in the bedrooms of the residents-”

“I’m not an officer, I helped with the case,” He turns to her so you can’t see his face and speaks lowly, “I just need to talk to her for a few minutes, I won’t be long.”

“Alright, just let me know when you’re headed out.” She leaves from standing in the doorway and cracks the door and she heads to the surveillance room that doubles as a bedroom for her.

“Do you want to bathe? I’ll leave if so and we can talk after.” You’ve kicked your shoes off, crawled to the edge of the queen size mattress and curled on your side facing the window. “So, I talked to your parents and they’ll be heading here tomorrow but Jin will probably be here first,”

”Jin?” You sit up, wondering why your ex-boyfriend has anything to do with this. “Why?...”

“He hired me to look for you, he’s the reason I got involved in your case.” Yoongi keeps a safe distance, the little camera hidden behind the plant reminds him of the high-security this place has. “Out of everyone, he called the most, almost every day to get updates about you.”

For a moment, you wonder if he has the correct Kim SeokJin. Because the last encounter you two had was so brief, it was a run-in at the grocery and you two talked about your jobs. It was really adult-like of you, you picked out potatoes as you picked up small-talk with an old flame. But there was no romantic love left, that boat had sailed a long time ago and your brief love for wine replaced it. He’s always cared about you, but you never thought he would be waiting for you.

“I have to go but I’ll be back in the morning, do you need anything before I go?” You shake your head, not wanting to be around him or anyone else any longer. It’s too much, it’s too much for you to handle all at one time and you just want to go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up, and this will all be a bad dream, and you’ll be in his arms. He said he would fix this, how is he going fix this?...

Yeosang waited for hours, he called Taehyung at least five times and he has yet to get a response. Something went wrong. In efforts to figure this out, he drove all the way from the meet-up spot to Tae’s house. He could tell the place had been intruded on, Tae never leaves his car outside of the garage at night. He pulls into the driveway, right beside the smokey black Audi R8. This isn’t like him to have gotten caught. The passports were ready, the new house was waiting, everything would have gone fine had the flight been earlier. He has to admit, he was looking forward to giving his good friends a chance at a happy life. He only met you once, but the way Tae talks about you, you two are clearly in love. If he knows Taehyung at all, he’ll receive a call in at least a few hours about what happened. He has to come out of this, that’s what Yeosang chants in his mind.

“So you own the house,” Eunwoo paces, coffee in flimsy Styrofoam cup as he takes a seat across from the culprit, “Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung acknowledges him with a disinterested glance before staring down at the steel table separating them. He wonders if you’re still in the building, they were taking you away, but where were they taking you? After he was cuffed, he saw Minho’s men get cuffed but Minho and Jimin were gone. If he knows Minho at all, he’ll be back.

“Don’t you hear me talking to you?” Minho hits the table, causing Taehyung to finally looking at him. “Look, for some reason your record is clean. But if we find out that you were involved in any of these murders and this kidnapping, you’re looking at a hefty sentence. Just admit it, you saw a pretty, successful girl living all alone and you thought, why not take her? Are you threatening her, is that why she won’t reveal you?”

“There’s not a scratch on her, does it look like I threatened her?” Taehyung speaks for the first time, the very insinuation that the nature of this kidnapping was to harm you made him sick.

“So, you did it then?” He affirms.

Taehyung shrugs, expression too nonchalant for Eunwoo’s liking. “You know what, wipe that smug look off your face-”

“Cha,” Jaemin opens the door without warning.

“What?” He snaps. “Don’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

“The chief wants to talk to you, he says it pertains to this case.”

With a resent glare at Taehyung, Eunwoo leaves the room with urgency. Jaemin, however, stays in the doorway, eyes fixated on the acclaimed Hwan Group member that he’s heard so much about from Minho. Kim Taehyung, his record is so clean, he doesn’t have so much as a parking violation on him. If he didn’t know who he was, Taehyung would fly under the radar in his book, he’s that convincing.

“What do you want?” Tae scrutinizes the man, eyes scanning him up and down.

“So you’re Kim Taehyung,” Jaemin closes the door with a soft click, “you really fucked this one up, it’s a shame too, Minho said you were the best. You ruined your record all for that woman-”

“Where did they take her?”

“That doesn’t really matter, let’s just hope Minho can work something out for you, he’s pissed right now,” He shakes his head in and ‘tsk, tsk’ way, “had you just done your job, you and that poor woman wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“She was crying when I saw her, what did they do to her?” He shifts in his chair. “Fucking answer me.”

“Look, stay quiet and you might get out of this alive, that’s all I can say,” And that’s all he says before quickly exiting the room, leaving Taehyung isolated in the cold room, head hung back against the chair. He’s tapping his foot, rhythmically, he’s jittery, anxious with thoughts about you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this when it’s so obvious that he’s got the least amount of control in this situation? Hold on Y/n, hold on.

Eunwoo rushes to the Chief's office and without a knock on the cracked door. he steps inside. He closes the door, “Chief, Jaemin said you wanted to see me?-...”

“Hello, Captain Cha.”

“Who are you? Where’s the Chief?“

“My name is Lee Minho, I’m sure you’ve heard my organization, the Hwan group. I know the chief and there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. The man you have in custody is a member and he’s only here because he made a mistake and my informant didn’t tell me who was on this case. You know of the Hwan group, the Chief has mentioned you and how you’ve dismissed some cases in compliance with the partnership we have.”

“This is really an HG case?” Minho nods. “The Chief never told me anything about dismissing this case. There were multiple murders and kidnapping, that’s not the typical HG favor.”

“That’s because the man assigned to the job often does high-profile jobs but stays under the radar. Unfortunately, he didn’t follow the instructions of the job. It was a multiple person execution but he had to go back and get that woman because he missed her. He led me to believe that she was dead but I found out recently that he’s been hiding her from me. I went to his house to confront him and here we are.”

“But the pardons I’ve made have never been for HG jobs that involved things like this. He murdered innocent people-”

“My organization has helped get rid of a lot of bad people and my people have worked in situations where cops just aren’t trained in. They get the job done if they chose to take it, no questions asked. Anyone who’s willing to pay can seek my group for help. They’re pawns, and Taehyung was one of my best. He takes a job and he does it, no sentiments attached. But for this woman, I don’t know,” He shakes his head at the thought, “he just couldn’t do it and that messed up everything, his reputation is screwed. Now I’m here trying to clean up his mess, a little. I’m sure you’ve spoken with our middleman, Na Jaemin, he was supposed to monitor this case to ensure things didn’t end up like this. But since it couldn’t be helped, I’m here to propose a deal.”

“Okay, what kind of deal? Because someone has to pay for this,” Eunwoo paces, “her disappearance has been televised and in the articles, she was a writer, people knew of her work from her publisher and they've been anticipating her return for months. We can’t just say she’s been found and then not give them any more than that. People will want to know where she’s been and who took her. Someone has to be held responsible other than Leu.”

“No, that’s not entirely true. We can arrange a cover story and Taehyung can be released to me.” He reasons. “And the girl stays free.”

“What about justice for her? She’s been-”

“Trust me, she’s not happy about this ‘rescue,’ it’s not what you think, she loves him.” Minho recalls the act of affection you two shared and how you pleaded to stay by his side, “I’m sure there are some psychological factors but at the end of the day, they are romantically involved, that’s probably why she’s so apprehensive to say anything, she doesn't want to say anything that might ruin her chances of seeing him again.”

“Woah...wait, I don’t think this is a consensual relationship if it were, why wouldn’t she say anything about is?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter at this point, here’s what needs to happen; I’ll take Taehyung back because he’s still under contract for a full year after this year ends, he has a job to do. In exchange, I’ll set up the cover story and the two of them can never make contact again, how does that sound?”

“Hm,” He takes a moment to consider the possibility of something going wrong, “them not making contact would put him in the clear and isolate her from any association with the group. That sounds foolproof but what if they don’t agree? If they’re together like you say, who’s to say she won’t rat on the group or he won’t try to find her anyway? I don’t see how we can get her to go back to her regular life.”

“She’ll never go back to her regular life, not really. I’ve known Kim for years, he’s not a monster but that doesn't change the fact that she was kidnapped, isolated from society for months and all she had was him. We’ll have to tell her what’s going on of course, but I doubt she’ll squeal if it means putting him in prison. They’ve said their goodbyes, it’s not a love story to be salvaged anyway. He doesn’t have a family he has very few friends and he has a ton of money, a huge house in a nice part of town, he’s got everything.”

“What if he refuses?”

Taehyung broke under the hand of a thing like you, the idea that he is emotionally impenetrable is long gone. Minho straightens the collar of his dress shirt and leaves the room to go deliver the news. “He doesn’t need her, his job doesn’t allow for distractions like her, and he knew that when he signed up; he’ll get over it.”

The door creaks and he expected it to be one of those officers, but Minho emerges with a guard who quickly walks over to take off the cuffs. Aside from the guard who just scurried out, Minho isn’t accompanied by anyone and he doesn’t look like he’s seen two seconds in a pair of handcuffs. He knew his boss had connections in high places but he never imagines it was to this extent.

“I am upset with you, Taehyung,” Minho circles around the chair, hands on the back of it, “you don’t know the strings I’ve had to pull to keep this quiet. What were you thinking? You knew the job, but you deliberately put your self in harm's way when you decided to hide her from me.”

“Had I told you she was alive, would you not have tried to kill her?” His tone bites.

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter what I would have done, you were supposed to do it.” He stresses. “I didn’t take the job Taehyung, you did.”

Tae diminishes a bit, the guilt of it all coming to the forefront of his mind. At the end of the day, no matter how many people actually wanted to harm you, he’s the one that signed up to do it. And it hurts, it hurts because he loves you, you love him and he doesn’t deserve if, but he wants it more than anything.

“Where is she?”

“I think they took her to some safe home, she got hurt but she got medical attention for her injuries. Now that she’s taken care of, I’m getting you out of here. I arranged a deal with the chief and it gets you out of this mess scotch free.”

“Okay...What’s the catch?” He knows there’s a catch, there always is.

“Your contract isn’t up, you have a little over a year left with the organization and despite how frustrated I am with you, you’re good at your job. You have to finish your contract.”

“And if I choose not to?” He asks daringly.

“If you choose not to, any immunity you have from the law because of the organization goes away, that will most likely land you in prison. But if you finish, your record stays clean.”

Tae doesn’t have to weigh his options to make a decision, but Minho hasn’t mentioned you. “What about Y/n? Will she be safe under this deal?”

“Of course, a cover-up story is arranged and she gets to go back to her everyday life,” He grins, “everyone's happy.”

A glimmer of hope comes to his eyes. “Then I can be with her, and no one will know about the kidnapping?”

“Oh, no. She’s staying here and you’re being transferred to the Europe division of the organization, you’ll reside in Bordeaux, France and travel throughout Europe for jobs. The deal is that you never see her again, it guarantees there can be no association between you two.”

“What? No, no...I can’t do that, I love her, she means everything to me. I won’t leave her, not without an explanation. We were gonna leave before you showed up, make a new life with all of this shit behind us,” His nose burns and he bites back a tear, “I-...I wanted to marry her one day, I can’t just leave her here.”

“You don’t have a choice, your flight leaves in the morning if you’re lucky they’ll let her out and you might be able to say goodbye one last time. Come on, we need to get out of here, you have to pack up. Do yourself a favor and try to forget about her, she’ll eventually do the same.”

This can’t be it, this can’t the end everything he’s built with you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this if he’s on the other side of the world? The thought of going to get you and running came to mind, but he can’t make you live like that, on the run like outlaws, he loves you too much. He has to fix this but you’ll have to wait. His heart aches, he knows you’re probably alone and confused. This is all my fault, this is my fault.

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the-hopeless-haze · 3 years

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Somebody Hurt Me Too Deep (Being Alive Ch 14)

Previous Chapter

A/N: I AM BACK omg ok like I’ve been through it in the last month..... yeah. This was of course based on “Being Alive” but also “champagne problems”... thank Taylor Swift for any emotional distress I cause :)

CW: talks of mental illness, brief mentions of past trauma and car accidents

Taglist (thank u all for reading ily): @caked-crusader @thatesqcrush @law-nerd105 @blackeyedangel9805 @moon-river-drifter @the-baby-bookworm @dianilaws @xecq @lv7867 @arabellathorne @teddybluesclues @averyhotchner @houseofthirst

“Carino? I’m home,” Rafael says as he steps through the apartment door, placing his briefcase down on the recliner. It was only 3pm, early for him to be finished with work for the day, but he had been getting out earlier recently to accompany you to physical therapy appointments. You were doing well, at least physically. It had been a long six weeks, but today might be the appointment that cleared you to go back to work full-time and maybe get out from behind the desk a little.

Mentally, though, it was a mixed bag. Some days were easier than others, and that was to be expected, but it was hard to tell the squad you were doing better when you couldn’t even bring yourself to text them back. Still, he pleaded otherwise, said every day was a new day and carried on even if they didn’t believe him.

Today, though, today was the turning point, he could feel it. You were doing so well, and eventually, your brain would have to catch up with your body. So tonight, he booked a reservation at a restaurant… not any restaurant, but the Cuban restaurant he took you to the night you asked him out and he barely used your first name and he swore he hated you with nearly every fiber of his being.

Right. As if he hated you even then.

You’re in a good mood, albeit not as elated as he hoped, but the physical therapist approves you for work but to “take it easy” and you’re laughing at his wry remarks and squeezing his hand in the back of the taxi on the way to the restaurant. His nerves almost dissipate, but they don’t. And maybe that should’ve been his first sign that tonight was not going to go as planned.

Rafael was never a superstitious man, but you order the same dish you ordered the first time he took you out, and he can’t help but think this is a sign to push forward.

“Oh, fuck it,” Rafael murmurs, a surge of anxiety overcoming him. “I was going to wait until after dinner… but…. I have something I want to ask you.”

And just like that, your face falls, but Rafael can barely take that in, he just keeps talking, his mouth moving faster than the neurons in his brain that tell him to stop, now isn’t a good time.

“I love you so much, (y/n), and I know these past few months have been so hard, and this isn’t the way either of us have wanted this year to start, but… we got through it together. I never thought I’d be in a position in my life, with someone who I love… that I’d be willing to do this, but… (Y/n)... will you marry me?”

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, but it feels like hours, days, months. “Can you get up off the floor, Rafael? You’re embarrassing us,” you finally say hollowly, and it’s true, the whole restaurant is stopped in their tracks staring at the two of you. Rafael couldn’t possibly care less, though, he couldn’t comprehend anything that was going on - he was just thinking “well, she hasn’t said no…” and then you’re getting up, throwing your napkin on the table, shaking your head, saying “I can’t do this.”

Rafael gains some of his senses back, enough to follow you outside into the tempering late February air. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, Rafael, I don't,” you say stiffly without turning around to face him. “I’ll get my stuff in the morning. I need to be alone right now.”

“I just… I didn’t know you weren’t happy,” Rafael says, his voice breaking, and that gives you enough impetus to turn around.

“You didn’t know I wasn’t happy? Goddamn, Rafael, do you even live with me? I’ve been unhappy for months.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you know?”

“Jesus, (y/n), maybe because I’m not a fucking mind reader?”

“Right. You honestly thought we were in a good enough place to propose tonight?”

“Obviously! Or I wouldn’t have done it!” he snaps. “You honestly think we’re in a bad enough place that you couldn’t say yes?”

“Obviously! Or I would have done it!” you throw his words back at him, and god do they sting.

“You never told me anything. You just withdrew.”

“Yeah. Maybe that should’ve been a sign. Look. I’m moving back home. I was going to tell you tonight.”

“What? Is that all it was? (Y/n), if you want to move back, I could work something out--”

“No. No, you can’t, Rafael. You’ve never been able to work anything out in your life because you’re too scared to! You just operate on fear - and this is no exception. You thought I was going to die six weeks ago and that’s the only reason you’ve been acting this way, and I’ve been slipping away recently and you’ve just been trying to consistently deny it so you just get on one knee and think that’s going to solve everything, think that’s going to make me stay. That’s not how it works! I’m not happy. I need to go home.”

“Oh no. You know what it is? You’re afraid. Don’t try to put this on me. You’re the one who’s walking away. You’re the one who’s running back home.”

“Fuck you, Rafael. Your family is all here. Mine isn’t. My brother’s getting a job for the first time, my mom just got on disability, I miss my dad… I’ve spent too long here. I’ve spent too long with you.”

“What happened? What the fuck happened?”

“What the fuck happened every other time, Rafael? You’ve gone through this plenty of times before.”

Rafael scoffs, shakes his head, leans against the outside of the restaurant. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m fucking sick, Rafael!” you’re screaming now, your cheeks turning red, your eyes leaking angry tears. “All this time, since the accident, I’ve been fucking drowning and you didn’t even notice!”

“Sick?”

“Depressed, Rafael. Anxious. Liv wanted me screened before I came back and the therapist said so. AGain. For the fucking umpteenth time in my life. But this time, I thought I had someone who cared--”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know if you didn’t tell me?”

“Couldn’t you see?”

Rafael shakes his head slowly, but now it comes back to him, all these subtle signs, the days you wouldn’t make it out of bed until 3 pm, all the days and nights you spent staring listlessly at the walls, the inability of anything he said or did to make you feel better. But it came and went, and Rafael just took it as you being upset sometimes at the limitations placed on you by your injured leg. Never did he think there was something more serious going on. Or maybe he just didn’t want to think that, and he ignored every signal.

“I’m sorry, (y/n),” he whispers, but he knows that’s too little, too late. Both of you were at fault - that was clear to him now - but was it clear to you? “I really didn’t know.”

“Evidently,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest.

“But you can get help. We can work this out.”

“I just… Rafael. I’m not ready. You of all people should have some sympathy for that.”

Ouch. You were going for the jugular now, hurting him where only you could, rejecting his proposal, leaving him crestfallen on one knee in the middle of a restaurant, but somehow your words hurt worse. Anyone could reject a proposal. Only you could psychoanalyze him and hurl the worst remarks his way, things no one else would be able to come up with.

“Then okay,” he sighs. “We won’t get married yet, or ever, if that’s what you want. But you really want to throw this away entirely?”

“I don’t know, Rafael. I don’t. Look, I’m sorry too. I just… I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Do you think… do you think maybe--”

“I don’t know,” you say firmly. “I don’t even know if I really want to go back home. I just know I don’t want to live like this anymore, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“But it isn’t going to drop. I just fucking proposed. I’m in this for the long haul. And fuck it, if you want to go back home, I’ll work it out.”

“This fake optimism isn’t you.”

“This lack of optimism entirely isn’t you! What happened to the woman who got through some of the worst shit imaginable and landed on her own two feet? You got into a car accident, (y/n). You lived! You should be thankful, not sitting here sulking like your world’s gone to shit.” Again, his mouth moves too fast to register the look on your face as it falls, and tears start to stream down your face. He can’t stop but push it further, hurt you in retaliation.

“Seriously, Rafael, how insensitive can you be? I tell you I’m struggling and you invalidate my feelings? Fuck off.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“Why’d you say it then? You know what, I’m done. Goodbye, Rafael.”

“But--”

“No. Give me space. You owe me that.”

He does. And god, it hurts to watch you walk away, his abuelita’s ring burning a hole in his pocket when it should be on your finger. But maybe.... maybe this isn't the end. Maybe all you need is space.

Maybe Rafael's wishing on a pipe dream. He doesn't know anymore. All he knows is the sting of this pain.

-----

You walk alone in the dark, your leg still aching slightly, and you just feel like utter shit. You can’t remember ever feeling quite this low, but you can’t remember feeling rage like this, either. No one’s hurt you like Rafael.

But that’s because you loved him enough to let him.

You still love him even now, but spending day in and day out with him coddling you, you couldn’t handle it. And maybe you should’ve acted like an adult and told him and stopped pretending everything was fine when you knew it wasn’t. If only you weren’t so fucked in the head, right? Just how it always went, your life, cycles of feeling fine and cycles of feeling like you’re scraping at the bottom of a barrel for a will to go on. And yeah, sometimes even you would question why you were taking this so hard - so what, it’s a car accident, you were lucky to have lived - but Rafael didn’t understand and you didn’t know how to make him. How were you going to get in a passengers seat again without having a panic attack? Would your leg ever fully heal? You’d wasted six weeks staring at the walls of Rafael’s apartment, doing menial paperwork for Olivia that anyone could have done. How could you not feel entirely worthless? And then for Rafael to make it seem like you were overexaggerating like you should just get over this… you hated him.

But you didn’t, really. You know deep down he’s just angry the night didn’t go the way he wanted it to, with you promising to be his for the rest of your life. Still, rage is a truth serum of sorts, like cheap wine, and it makes you wonder how deep that resentment runs. How could he not notice you were upset, though? That’s a hell of a blind eye to turn.

At least back home you had Ben if nothing else.

But here, you had everything else. The squad, your career, Rafael… You couldn’t even begin to think about marriage right now - Lord knows Rafael isn’t ready either - but did you really want to throw in the towel? How do couples move past a rejected proposal, though? Hadn’t you hurt him deeper than anyone else could have? And would he ever figure out how to propose again?

Maybe to someone else, you think, someone who didn’t have all these fucking issues.

Before you know it, you have a cigarette in your mouth and a lighter in hand and you’re leaning against the side of a convenience store, watching girls walk by in stilettos hanging on to their men or giggling with their group of friends, the taxis blurring past. Then you realize you broke the first promise you made to Rafael: you bought cigarettes in New York.

Had he really wanted to collect on that promise? It wasn’t like you were addicted, it was just a stupid habit you started in high school to take the edge off, but you supposed some people had the inclination to start and never stop, but you always could when you wanted to.

Your vice wasn’t cigarettes, no, it was love. You gave all you could to whoever would take it because you were so used to people wanting nothing to do with you since you isolated yourself due to your past trauma. Once you got to college, you refused to hide in the background, and you took chances you weren’t used to taking and loved in color, you loved until it made you blue when the boys would cheat or your so-called friends would find different cliques.

You were still like that, albeit in so much a desperate way, and you had been loved in return, now, not just by Rafael but by the squad too - even if you had your squabbles. You loved them to death and back.

But friends were easier to keep than lovers.

Maybe it is scary to think Rafael was going to be the end. That he’d be the last man you ever kissed in love or passion. That you’d be the last woman standing in his long list of ex-lovers - the only one who didn’t get crossed off.

How do you love someone that much? You always said you wanted that, but the thought always terrified you anyway, and maybe it’s why you did push people away when they felt too close because you felt like you didn’t deserve it, like you were still atoning for some sin you didn’t remember committing but you still feel guilty for all the same. You wonder if Rafael feels just as guilty.

You inhale the smoke, feeling the familiar, carcinogenic burn in your throat, causing yourself pain to cause Rafael pain only to cause you pain in return; an endless cycle of hurt.

With ambivalence, you put your cigarette out and hail a cab, and tell him to drive you to your apartment which you haven’t seen in weeks. There’s dust on every surface, it’s freezing as hell, and you don’t know how you’re going to sleep tonight, alone, so you light up another cigarette, sitting solitary with your nerves running haywire underneath your skin. What the hell were you going to do now?

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Totaled

You accidentally total your Dad’s precious car, but that’s not what he’s worried about.

“Be careful,” your dad told you as he handed you the keys to his precious black Audi. It wasn’t the first time he was letting you drive it, but it was the first time he was letting you drive it alone. You’d had your license for over a year and he still barely even let you get something from the inside if you left it. But you’d literally begged him, just this once, to drive it to the movies. And he’d finally agreed.

“Thank you!” You said, throwing your arms around his waist. He chuckled.

“If you crash this car, you will literally never see another set of keys as long as I’m alive.” You nodded.

“I’m not a bad driver.”

“I know you’re not, ‘cause I taught you how. I’m just messing with you, alright?” You let go of him and took the keys from his hand. “Really, though. Drive safe, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow if I’m not up when you get back.”

“Okay. Good night.” He watched you as you went to the couch and grabbed your favorite fuzzy blanket, your wallet, and your phone. And then he watched you get into the car, set your phone up with Bluetooth, and drive off. He turned toward the dog on the couch, sat down with him, and turned on the TV.

He wasn’t lying, and you weren’t either. You were a good driver. He’d trained you well before letting you get your license – one of the first times you drove he had forced you to go up Mulholland. That had terrified you, but you were prepared for anything after that. So he didn’t feel bad about letting you have the car for the night. Besides, your own was there if he needed to go anywhere. It was just the fact that you were seventeen – it was less scary than sixteen, but not quite old enough yet to be on your own. And it was also the fact that you were going to the movies, at night, with a friend, on back roads that were hard to navigate in the dark. But you could handle it, he kept telling himself. He had to let go every once in awhile. This was one of those times.

You made it to your friend’s house, pulling into her driveway and getting out. You did a mini-photoshoot with it, just to send to your dad to make him laugh, and it got a few chuckles out of him. And then you were on your way to the movies.

“Dude, it’s fuckin’ creepy out here,” your friend said as you drove through the state park. You were going to the nicer theater a town over, and you were actually a little surprised your dad was okay with it. But your friend was right. It was creepy. The road was unfolding in front of you in a set of headlights, foggy as hell, and there were the occasional times your headlights would catch the bright red eyes of a deer. But you had it under control.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, adjusting your leg and bringing it up to rest in the seat. “Maybe next time we shouldn’t try to make a 10 PM showing.”

“It’s more fun, though.”

“Oh, definitely.” You made it through the park and to the theater. Nothing bad happened there – you grabbed popcorn, chose your seats, took pictures of your tickets, and watched the movie. It was good, but there were a few things you wanted to remember to tell your dad later.

Movie is over! You texted him. Heading home!

See you soon!

You walked out of the theater and threw away the last remaining bits of popcorn and soda, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. And then you started the way home. The town was smaller than the one you lived in, but you knew it pretty well, and you took the back way out of the theater so there was less traffic. You were determined to make it through the night without crashing your dad’s precious car.

“Here we are again,” you said as you entered the park. This time it was darker and even foggier, but there were no jumping deer or drunk drivers. Everything was fine. You and your friend talked and laughed about the movie, turned your music down so that you could focus better, and just enjoyed being with each other. You didn’t get to see her much in the summer because your dad usually dragged you out to California, but the past few weeks you’d been back in Boston and trying to spend every minute with your friends.

You dropped your friend off at her house, still reeling from how tense you’d been driving through the park. You checked your phone – your dad hadn’t sent you anything to indicate that he was going to bed, so you assumed he would still be awake to talk a little bit about the movie. Your house was only ten minutes away, but you know what they say – most accidents happen when someone is ten minutes away from home. You took the neighborhood streets, the same streets you’d grown up on. You would know them with your eyes closed in a thunderstorm. And you knew that the entrance to your neighborhood required a U-turn. You slowed down and got in the correct lane, putting your signal on, and waited for a few cars to pass. There was a Camaro, one that was loud as hell, coming toward you, so you waited. But the car started veering away from their lane and into yours, and, oh, shit. You looked in your blind spot and tried to move, but the Camaro made it to you before you could.

You didn’t quite know what happened at first. Where the other car hit you. Later on you’d find out it hit the front of the car and they were drunk as well as going 70 in a 35. You could feel pain in your leg first, and then you felt the wheel hit your chest. Your head crashed into the airbag, but it wasn’t working right, it couldn’t have been, because the last thing you felt was a crack before your head hit the back of the seat. You tried to breathe, but in those few seconds all you wanted was your dad.

Your dad was still up, waiting for you, honestly. He wanted to see what you thought about the movie, but he also wanted to say goodnight. You always waited up for him, so he tried to do the same for you. He looked at the clock, and then back down at your text. You should have been home for about ten or fifteen minutes, and he knew you weren’t going to go anywhere that you weren’t supposed to go because he trusted you. He opened the tracking app and checked your phone, seeing that you were sitting at the neighborhood entrance. You probably just got caught in traffic, he thought.

Ten minutes later and you hadn’t moved. You were still not home. Something was wrong, your dad could feel it, and he decided to just call you. Usually he didn’t call you if you were driving, but he wanted to know where you were. His call went unanswered and he stood up, grabbing the keys to your car to go out and find you because maybe the transmission had shot again and your phone died or something, but before he could, he got a call.

“Hello?” He asked, looking out at the driveway to see if you would pull in while he was on the phone.

“Hi, are you the owner of a black Audi with the plates AZL-X32?” Chris hadn’t exactly memorized his plate numbers, but he was definitely the owner of a black Audi.

“Yeah, but my daughter should be driving it. Is everything okay?” He was sure you’d just gotten pulled over or something. Like he did, you sped just a little bit, but cops tended to go harder on kids than they did with adults.

“Unfortunately I’m at the scene of an accident involving the vehicle.” Chris’s heart dropped. “Another car hit hers head on while they were speeding.”

“Is she alright? Is she okay?” He asked. He started walking out of the house, locking the door, and climbed into your car.

“She was unresponsive when they pulled her out, but they’re speaking with her now. They’re taking her to Boston Memorial, is that alright?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Can we get her name and date of birth? And is she allergic to any medications or have any conditions?”

“Yeah, her birthday’s March 13th, 2003. She’s not allergic to anything that we know of besides peanuts. Her name is Y/n.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there at the hospital to get some more information from you.” Chris started driving toward the hospital, tears in his eyes, freaking out.

You were freaking out, too, only a different kind. Your entire body was bloody when you looked down. Your head was swimming and the only thing you could do was throw up when you realized where you were. You could see your cracked phone in the cup holder and wanted to reach for it, but your arm was in so much pain. You were in so much pain. Your head was hurting, your leg was hurting, and you could feel liquid dripping down. You knew it was bad. But suddenly a rush of air came toward you and someone was lifting you up.

“Dad?” You asked, wishing it was him. Your eyes were glazed over, unable to focus on anything. You saw the night sky.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” A voice asked. It was a woman’s voice.

“Y/n,” you said. “I want my dad, where’s my dad?”

“We’ll call him, honey, don’t worry. I’m gonna give you a mask and check over you, alright? Don’t fight me, I know you’re scared.” You were. You were terrified. You didn’t even really know what happened. But you could smell burning rubber and oil and blood. It only took you a second to come to the conclusion that you’d totaled your dad’s car because someone else had veered into your lane. You tried to say that, out loud, but the woman put a mask over your face. You felt the soft bed of a stretcher and then a clanging noise. You were in the back of an ambulance. The lights were what made you finally pass out. They were just too bright.

“I’m looking for my daughter, Y/n Evans, she was in a car crash, she would’ve been brought in half an hour ago,” Chris said hurriedly as he walked up to the front desk, nearly slamming your car keys down.

“She’s being looked at right now. If you could fill out some papers and consent forms, that would be the most helpful thing right now.”

“Of course.” Just as long as you were alive, he thought. But they wouldn’t be talking like that if you weren’t okay. So he sat down, filled out a shit ton of papers, and gave them back to the nurse. He called the neighbor, asking if they could lock the house up and make sure Dodger had some water because he was sure you’d be there all night and there was no way he was leaving you.

They finally let him in to see you half an hour later, when they’d moved you over to the pediatrics wing. He had to walk the entire length of the hospital, but at least they were letting him see you. He strode over to the front desk, asking for you, and they told you that you were the first door on the right and they’d send a nurse in to talk with him. He was quiet as he walked in, trying not to spook you, and sighed when he saw you. He couldn’t help but almost start crying; there were scratches on your face, a huge bruise on your neck, your leg was wrapped up but your wrist already had a cast on it, and most of all, he could see dried tears in your eyes. There was an IV giving you blood and that was what nearly broke him. You’d lost so much blood that they had to give you more.

“Hey, y/n, honey,” he said softly, walking toward you. He laid a hand in your hair, kissing your forehead. Your eyes didn’t quite open, but your hand started moving and he took it.

“Daddy,” you murmured. That actually made the tears fall from his cheeks. You hadn’t called him that since you were twelve.

“I thought I was gonna lose you, sweetheart.” He was incredibly gentle as he pulled the covers up over you when he saw the chill bumps on your arms. “Do you know what happened?”

“I was trying to turn and this car just came over into my lane. I tried to move, but I was too late.” He sighed. So it wasn’t your fault. That was good. But he was about to sue the shit out of somebody. “Don’t go all papa bear on me,” you murmured as if you knew what he was thinking.

“Hey, I get to go all papa bear on you.” You opened your eyes, finally, and he smiled at you. You couldn’t do much, but you wanted to be closer. You needed to be closer. You did what you could do scoot over into the corner of the bed, right next to where your dad was sitting. A nurse walked into the room and asked your name.

“Yeah, that’s us,” your dad responded. He squeezed your hand, looking down as your eyelids shut again.

“She’ll be just fine. Her ankle is fractured, she broke one of her wrists, and she lost two pints of blood from a cut on her thighs. But she’ll be perfectly fine. We can’t let her go home tonight, we need to monitor everything, especially the cuts and the blood transfusion.” Your dad nodded.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be around to check for her vitals every half an hour for four hours, and then we’ll change to once an hour if things are getting better. How does that sound, Y/n?” The nurse asked. You didn’t really answer. You just stuck your thumb up.

“Thank you,” Chris said with a smile. The nurse started checking you over and left a few minutes later. Chris sat in the silence for a few minutes as you slept, only able to hear the ringing of a telephone and a siren down below. He got up, making the rounds and calling the insurance company, then calling the police to get access to the crash report for insurance, and then calling your grandparents to tell them what happened. He must have been on the phone for a few hours because the nurse only started coming once an hour and the sun was finally starting to rise. You woke up with it, opening your eyes and looking around the room.

“Dad?” You asked. He turned his eyes toward you and walked over, sitting back down in the chair.

“Hey, honey,” he replied. “How do you feel?”

“Awful.”

“A car accident will do that to you, huh?” His voice was soft and his eyes lit up when he watched you. They always did.

“I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“What?”

“I told you I wouldn’t crash your car.” He chuckled.

“That wasn’t your fault, hon. None of this is.”

“But I crashed your car.”

“Cars can be replaced, sweetie. You can’t. But there’s no way in hell I’m ever letting you drive it again.”

“Yeah, I ruined that didn’t I?”

“Maybe. Are you hurting at all? We can get you some more pain meds if you are.” You shook your head. He brushed your hair out of your face, his thumb rubbing against a cut on your forehead.

“I’m just tired. And I wanna go home.”

“They need you to stay for a few more hours and then I can take you home, alright?” You just nodded this time. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“Where’s my phone?”

“I don’t know if they found it or not, we’ll get you another one if it’s messed up.”

“I wanted to watch Netflix.” He chuckled and handed you his phone, pulled up to Netflix. You laid down on your side, as close to him as you could get, and started watching your favorite show. You fell asleep half an hour later, right before your grandparents called to check in. Your dad gave your forehead a kiss before standing up to answer the phone.

“How is she doing?” Your grandmother asked right away.

“She’s alright, she’s sleeping right now,” Chris said softly, letting go of your hand to walk out into the hallway so he wouldn’t wake you up.

“That’s good. We’ll come over and let the dog out and feed him. And we can bring you both some clothes and chargers.”

“That would be amazing. Can you bring me her laptop, too? She can’t find her phone.”

“Of course.” His mom paused. “You’re doing so well with her, Chris. You always have. We’re so proud of you.”

“She’s doing it all on her own. I saw a picture of the car last night. It’s hard to believe anyone made it out of there, much less her.” He saw you waking up. “Hold on, she’s waking up.” You were just stretching, but it nearly gave him a heart attack. He really needed to get some sleep or he just might go crazy.

“You okay?” He asked you. You didn’t answer. You were asleep.

“Is she?” Your dad sighed.

“She’s asleep. She was just stretching, I think.”

“I’ll let you go then. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Ma. Love you.” Chris hung up the phone and walked back over to you, sitting down again, and took your hand. There were two things he was absolutely sure of; he was staying with you, and he was never, ever letting you drive his car again.

A/N: I hope this was fluffy enough because I am in overload right now! Thank you for the request because I loved writing this one!

#chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff

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winterromanov · 5 years

Note

Maybe a college Bucky one where he’s being playing games out of town, and trying to study for exams and he’s just so tired but trying to keep going and reader makes him nap and relax and it’s just very Soft ☺️

pairing: bucky x reader (set in the same universe as this fic)

Trying to play football and also be a competent college student is an Incredibly Difficult Feat. You know this, because watching Bucky vault himself from away games to home games to mid terms to finals is about the most exhausting thing you’ve ever seen. If he’s not studying he’s at practice, and if he’s not playing he’s in an exam. It’s like watching a manic, sleep-deprived whirlwind, living almost entirely off coffee and takeout noodles.

He’s not taking care of himself. He’s pushing and pushing and pushing, trying not to let anybody down--as if he could ever do that.

“You don’t have anything to prove,” you say, as he crashes face-down on the bed in your dorm, the night before he leaves to play a game at Harvard and minutes after his Cold War history deadline. You’ve not seen him eat anything the last twenty-four hours. “Look--you won the last game. Steve said you could sit this one out.”

A vague mumbling comes from your bed. His face is smothered by the pillow and he’s too exhausted to even turn over, so you poke his ass with your foot. His hand reaches out, reflexes still ridiculously quick, pulling you onto the bed with him.

“Sorry, love,” you smirk, curling as close to him as your tiny mattress will allow. His arm pulls you close to his waist, palm splayed across your back. His heartbeat is unrelenting beneath his shirt, thudding between you. “Didn’t quite hear that one.”

His head shifts so you’re basically nose-to-nose, his grin sleepy and delirious. He’s gonna pass out any second. You’ve seen it many, many times before in the last hectic few weeks--you’re probably gonna see it a few more. “I’ll be fine after nap. Promise.”

“Don’t you dare fall asleep before I can force a pizza down you,” you warn, and he laughs, deliberately snuggling into the pillow and letting his eyes flicker closed. You can’t resist--running your hand through his hair, along his face. Kiss his forehead. “Goddamn it, Buck. You’re making it very difficult for me to look after you.”

“You being here is enough,” he says softly and before you have chance to reply he’s gone, lost in some dream. You slowly creep out of his embrace, making the pizza for him anyway. By the time you wake up the next day his body is a phantom shape in your bed but the pizza is gone--he’s left you a bright pink post-it note on the plate. Scribbled in his usual scrawl are the words thank you always favourite girl.

we won!!! harvard ain’t better than us at FOOTBALL

wish u could have been there

renaissance lit is being a bitch :(( well done you STAR. miss you more every moment so get back quick

should i hijack the bus and speed down the freeway

if you must

consider it done

love you

love you more than anything

The next game is thankfully a home one against Yale so you can at least keep an eye on him--you’re just protective, that’s all, not wanting him to burn out in front of you. There’s a lot of gym sessions and library cramming and a grand total of one dinner date at his apartment, where you made a pasta dish with as many vegetables as you could think of in as possible (his mom had sent you a message afterwards with immense gratitude because her son needed his greens, damn it). The following evening you’d wrapped yourself in one of his jerseys and sat in the bleachers alongside an injured Sam--injured and bitter about it--and waited in the lights and the noise for the game to begin.

“Bucky tells me you’re worried about him,” Sam interjects rather suddenly and when you blink back, he shrugs his non-injured shoulder nonchalantly. “Not that I blame you. That dude just doesn’t let up, does he?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shivering a little. The November air is cold, even wearing Bucky’s sweater. “He keeps telling me the season will be over before long, but I...I don’t want that to be a couple of weeks too much for him, you know?”

Sam hums thoughtfully. Around you, the crowd practically fizzes with excitement, covered with facepaint and aggressively chanting team songs at the opposing side. You’d never been to a college football game before you started dating one of the team’s star players, but you have to admit, the atmosphere is kinda addictive. Watching Bucky play is kinda addictive.

“If I know Bucky, and boy do I know him,” Sam eventually replies, squeezing up closer to you as more people gather into your stand. A girl is openly staring at you both--it doesn’t happen that often, but more so at games. People know Bucky, and Sam, so people know you. “He’ll get through this all okay. He always does, (Y/N). I’d been pretty damn surprised if he doesn’t make captain next year.”

You stare at the bright, clean grass of the field, and think of a boy so fucking exhausted from trying to balance his life that he can barely function half the time. Bucky would be an awesome captain. You just don’t want him to become a dead firework because of it.

The game ends up being pretty close but Yale just snatch the victory. It doesn’t mean that they can’t win the season, but. Bucky makes his way over to your stand at the end of the game like he always does, taking off his helmet and mouthguard. He also looks extremely deflated, like he always does when they lose.

“It’s okay,” you say, taking his face in your hands. He looks angry at himself. And you know what he’s thinking. I should have pushed harder. “Shit happens. You were still amazing.”

He kisses you over the barrier in a display of affection you were once too shy to give away in public, but you need him as much as he needs you. When you break apart you plant a chaste, gentle peck on his jawline, running your thumb over the shadow.

“You two make me sick,” Sam interrupts the moment, arms folded. Bucky flips him off while smiling sweetly and you can’t help but laugh. “Honestly. Didn’t ask to be violated, but here we are.”

“Payback for every single time I’ve walked in on you doing unspeakable things with the girl from the top floor on our kitchen counter.” Bucky snaps back teasingly. You like watching the banter unfold between the two of them. You’d be worried if Bucky and Sam weren’t taking the piss at every given opportunity.

Sam gestures pointedly at his injured right shoulder. “I cannot believe you’d treat a fallen comrade like that. I’m disgusted.”

“And so was I when I saw the state of the kitchen counter.” Bucky gives you one last kiss, clutching your hand. “See you after I hit the showers, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting.” Your promise him, and his eyes glow just a little brighter.

When Bucky facetimes you from Brown the very next week, he looks like he hasn’t slept for at least three days. His Ancient Chinese history exam is literally a day after he arrives back from the trip and he’s frantically cramming in his hotel room in Rhode Island, while also trying not to fuck up the team’s chances of winning the season.

“Just one more game after this,” his grainy voice says on the other end of the video feed, head lolling against the headboard of his Holiday Inn bed. You wish he was in your bed. God, you wish he was in your bed. “And the season is over and I don’t have to be away from you ever again.”

“I don’t think your mom would like it if I stole you away for Thanksgiving.” You joke, tongue poking between your teeth. His lips curve, half a laugh escaping from his chest.

“That’s why she personally invited you to stay with us for the holidays. She’s worried you might sneak in there first and drag me to Virginia. She already knows I’d go wherever you go.”

Your smile is kinda wistful. “Except when you go to Rhode Island.”

“Except when I go to Rhode Island.” He repeats, sighing dramatically. He rubs one of his tired eyes. “Ugh. Who thought coinciding pre-Thanksgiving exams and football season was a good idea, huh?”

“I have no idea, but I’m prepared to have words with them.” You tilt your head. “Don’t work too hard, yeah? It’s one exam. It’ll all be okay in the end.”

“I know, I know.”

You want to keep talking, on and on until the early hours like you do sometimes, because time is apparently not real when you and Bucky are on the phone together. But he needs sleep, and you need sleep, and occasionally you’ll do things for the greater good. “Good luck for tomorrow. Brown won’t know what’s hit ‘em.”

“They better not,” he jokes, “Will you be live-streaming the game?”

As if you wouldn’t. You can’t pretend that you always know what’s going on or any of the rules, but you always try to watch him if you can. He’d do the same for you, over and over and over. “Already got the tab open on my laptop and everything.”

Bucky’s grin is near effervescent, even through your patchy wifi connection. “I love you more than anything, you know that?”

“I may have had an inkling.”

hello y/n

HELLLOOOOO

u know brown are the best losers because they lose and give you TEQUILA

omg are you drunk

never been DRUNK IN MY LIFE!!!! but im at this cool party and stEv e has found a girl and i miss u

i miss u so much . and like i just do generally

whenever ur not ar oUnd

oh sweet boy. you are very drunk.

im serious though

sometimes i think about how much i love you and it scares me

because then i th ink what it would be like if you wreent there

and that makes me so fucking sad i cant breathe

y/n

y/n ???????????????

hellooo

have u gone to bed

no, just messaging steve to make sure he gets you back safe. im not going anywhere. just please please look after yourself. love you always

“I’m sorry about those messages I sent you last night.”

You grab him in the tightest hug possible, his hold all still hanging off his arm, rain spattering down from dark clouds outside his apartment block. You hold him for at least ten years, you reckon, because the thought of him being so fucking sad he can’t breathe makes you so fucking sad you can’t breathe.

“You’re a terrible drunk who says things that make me emotional.” You laugh tearfully into his sweater and he grips you even harder, if possible. The shards of glass jabbed between your ribs start to dissolve as you inhale every single part of him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I know.”

His last game is the day of your renaissance literature exam and for once you’ve been the one not eating and relying on caffeine, anxiety lingering round your jittery bones like an irritating ghost. Your interactions with Bucky are a battle between you wishing him aggressive luck for what could be the winning game while he equally aggressively says your exam will go fine, they always go fine, it’s an easy A for sure.

Your exam isn’t until the afternoon so you spend the morning pacing about your bedroom looking at a sporadic mess of post-it notes on your wall declaring quotes and context that you hope will just stick in your brain. When Lizzie from down the hall says there’s a package for you you don’t actually think much of it, too busy to deal with something you’ve probably forgotten you ordered from Amazon--but she makes some comment about how fancy it is, wrapped up in striped paper.

Your name is in print across the front so it doesn’t leave a clue on the sender, but as soon as you rip into it and find a bundle of things nestled between tissue paper, you know instantly. It’s kind of embarrassing you didn’t click sooner.

Dear Y/N - you’ll ace it, favourite gal.

You try not to break down in sleep-deprived and emotional tears as you pull out a brand new sweater in your favourite shade of burgundy, a vintage copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, three different kind of Hershey’s bars and a dumb little teddy bear wearing your college jersey. He’s sent you a fucking care package. He’s away at Princeton, and he’s sent you a care package, because exams drive you crazy and he’s just... Well, he’s Bucky.

i got your present

have i ever mentioned that i love you

i may have had an inkling

He doesn’t really leave you a choice, does he? Besides, the game is only at Princeton, and if you catch the train the moment you escape the uneasy warmth of a crowded exam hall you should be able to get there in time.

You’ve never been to Princeton stadium before, but you grab one of the last tickets available and rush onto their crowded bleachers just before the game is about to begin. The lights are heady, the atmosphere is electric, and you’re about to watch the man you lovingly, completely, unrelentingly call your own play the game he loves almost as much as you at a stadium forty miles from home.

hey steve, you text his closest friend, hoping he’ll see it, get buck to look at the front of the stairs near block d when you come out

y/n if this is what i think it means he’s going to lose his goddamn mind

When the team runs out you notice the number five on his jersey straight away, a constant fleeting image in your head from the countless games you’ve seen him play. Even from a distance, Steve’s eyes catch your own and his arm starts gesturing violently in your direction, Bucky taking a couple of moments to catch on.

It’s a good job the game isn’t due to start for a few more minutes, because absolutely nothing can stop him from automatically sprinting to your side of the field and kissing you senseless, cameras and crowds be damned.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he says on a dizzy outtake of breath.

“Couldn’t miss the last game of the season, could I?” You gently push his chest, urging him to go back to his team. “And neither can you. Go back to them. I’ll be waiting.”

He steals your lips for one more second, giddy and pumped full of adrenaline. “I really lucked out the day I met you, didn’t I?”

His mouth is hot. Hot. Unmistakable. Real. Always, always real. “Not as lucky as me.”

my masterlist

send me a request

#big oof #ridiculously fluffy #soft bucky #college!bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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angeltrapz · 3 years

Note

m sorry ur havin a rough night, but i come bearing Chainshipping asks 💙💙 I wld love to hear ur thoughts on Adam teaching Diana photography, n how Lawrence feels seein her bond w Adam! + also favorite lil things they do to surprise each other, when they know th other is havin a rough day but not admitting it, or just bc they thought th other wld like it— lil stuff to make each other smile. + bonus, as far as the polycule goes bc we’ve both kinda touched on tht it takes a lil while to warm up to th idea, how do u think tht conversation goes between Adam + Lawrence, n who is th first other member where Lawrence is like “oh hey, I love them too”

thank u,,, I appreciate it sm <33 I always love getting asks frm u!!

Adam + Diana bonding over photography:

ohhh my gosh that would be adorable!!! I feel like it takes a little while for Lawrence to feel comfortable with having Adam and Diana interact - not bc he doesn't trust Adam or think he'd be a bad influence, but just bc he wanted to be sure things were going to work out between them; he didn't want to put Diana through that, have her get attached to someone who might end up not sticking around (again, not bc he thought he and Adam would split! he just wanted to make sure they were established for a while is all). but the moment he does? ohhhh these two melt his heart on the regular.

I kind of have this belief that Adam is good with kids, but not even he knows why? he has a heart fr kids, he can't help it, but he certainly didn't see himself becoming involved w someone who already had children,, that being said he loves Diana, and she loves him just as much!! it's kind of similar to the Daniel situation but leaning more toward the parental side of things; she just thinks he's about the coolest adult she knows and it's very evident. so they get along really well and god does it make Lawrence happy - honestly, it only serves to make him fall harder. Adam lets Diana paint his nails and will paint hers, he builds pillow forts for them to hide in, he'll read to her before bed, things like that; it's honestly not a surprise that she's interested in his photography!

the very first time she asks him about it, it starts with her being like "this is really cool!! how did you get so good at doing that??" and Adam's just sort of like. You Think That's Cool?? and that's kind of when he starts to become aware of how highly Diana thinks of him,, he needs a whole moment later where he just hides his face in Lawrence's chest and breathes through it bc Holy Shit. this is also where it kinda starts to set in for him that like, this is his family. (the next time he has a moment like that is when she calls him dad for the first time, but that's later down the line!)

hdkjsaf anyway. I feel like he wld be really excited to share this with Diana!! knowing that she's genuinely interested in it helps a lot and the fact that she's such a visual/hands-on learner like himself also helps things along!! I really like the idea that he gets her one of those disposable cameras to kind of give her a chance to explore it herself, so like the three of them will be at the park, Adam and Lawrence sat on one of the benches (when Adam isn't chasing her around the playground), while Diana runs around (within their line of sight, of course) and takes pictures of everything she finds interesting + worth capturing and Lawrence just sort of sighs and says "she's having so much fun. I love you." and Adam's just. "I love you too,,, 🥺🥺" it's so overwhelmingly domestic that Adam just needs a second to sit w it,,

Diana's also a quick learner so it's really cool when they compare her pictures to ones she takes later on!! it's definitely something that serves to strengthen their bond and kind of the catalyst for Adam to realize Hey, Diana Loves Me Too (ESP bc I feel like Adam would be super nervous around her at first, due to being Lawrence's new partner/not Alison, so her approval actually does mean a lot to him,, I gotta be honest I think abt chainshipping + Diana family dynamics all the time)!!

for Lawrence it's just like. Diana's approval ALSO means the world to him. he Loves seeing his partner and his daughter getting along so well; Lawrence didn't ever really envision himself being divorced prior to their game (even if he and Alison had discussed it/at least a separation of sorts), so he's kind of unsure about navigating dating after something like that, especially where Diana is concerned, so to have her love Adam just as much as he does is so so important. he definitely tears up over it sometimes, he can't help it. these are his two favourite people.

little things they do fr each other:

for surprises I think they're relatively lowkey just bc neither of them really like Big surprises,, most times it consists of smth like "I saw this and thought of you!" or "I thought you'd like this so I picked it up!" and that's more than enough for them. occasionally though they Do like the spoil each other in their own special ways, so sometimes Lawrence will come home from work and the entire apartment is clean, there's music playing from that little stereo they have, and there's Adam in the kitchen with flour and brownie batter on his cheek and his shirt and in his hair bc maybe he's not the best cook, but he can bake (at least. brownies.) and Lawrence will just stand in the threshold of the kitchen fr a little bit after dropping off his coat and briefcase and lining up his shoes in the hallway, just watching Adam with this lovesick grin on his face until Adam finally turns around and sees him (he's not shocked, Lawrence always announces himself) and smiles back and it's so. <333

other times Adam will come home from a shoot to see Lawrence on the couch with Adam's favourite takeout, already in his pajamas and with their comfiest blanket next to him on the couch, and he's got a movie ready (usually The Princess Bride, as I've mentioned b4,,) and is just like "hey, I know you haven't eaten yet so I ordered in. wanna sit w me?" and of course Adam is always like of course I do!!! it's definitely one of those things where he's just smiling the whole time because this is a level of bliss he never saw himself reaching b4 Lawrence. he never imagined having someone to come home to, someone who loves him like this, and it's as simple as Lawrence making sure he eats + just wanting to take the time to relax w him while watching smth they both enjoy to make Adam realize this is love.

as for little things they do fr each other when they're having rough days? for Adam, I like the idea that Lawrence tosses one of his sweaters into the dryer for a little while so that it's warm when he takes it out, and then he brings it to wherever Adam has holed up while he rides out a shitty day and is just like "here, I know you're not having a good day so I brought you this. it's warm :)" and Adam is always just. "thank you" bc verbalizing things is hard on his bad days if he's not completely nonverbal (he does know the sign fr thank you + teaches it to Larry so he knows), but on the inside he's definitely just like 🥺🥺 ohhh my god I love you so much?? the other is that he'll make one of Adam's favourites for dinner because he firmly believes in the concept of comfort food serving to make things a little bit better. then they'll just sort of curl up on the couch or in bed and Adam will hide for a little while (like u've mentioned b4) until he feels good enough to at least lay his head on Lawrence's shoulder and watch him read/fill out crosswords (my fave hc concerning Lawrence is that. he likes them. he gets books of 'em Adam is so endeared by it).

for Lawrence, since he's the kind of person that throws himself into performing tasks (stress cleaning, paperwork, tending to things around the apartment, etc.) to keep his mind off of how upset he's feeling, I think the biggest thing Adam does is after a little while of Lawrence doing his thing, he'll come up behind him wherever he is and just kind of lead him away like "why don't you rest for a minute." and at first he wasn't rlly receptive to it, preferring to just sort of shake Adam off and be like "I'm okay, thank you for asking," even if he was very obviously Not Okay. eventually, though, all Adam has to do is put his hands on his shoulders and knead for a little bit before Lawrence just sighs and melts into it. he tenses up a lot, so his muscles are often really sore as a result, so when Adam does that it's a reminder to kind of sit back before that happens. the other, like you've also mentioned b4, is that Adam just holds Lawrence when he needs it, which is something he hadn't ever really experienced b4 but comes to appreciate very much. this is usually when Lawrence feels safest/the most seen + heard, so it's often where he cries it out, too.

otherwise it's just those little things; Lawrence will make Adam his cup of coffee in the morning, Adam will do Lawrence's tie for him b4 he heads off to work (his one weird ability, he supposes), holding the door open for each other when they're out and about, getting each other smth to drink + little snacks, stuff like that!! (one of my other favourites: sometimes when they go out for dates, Lawrence will pull Adam's chair out for him. Adam used to think smth like that wld be very stupid. when it's Lawrence, he comes to realize what was so endearing about it - not that he'd say that out loud tho)

polycule discussion:

I've actually thought abt this b4!! I feel like Adam wld be very very nervous abt it at first, just bc he knows it's something that a lot of ppl still consider to be unconventional + impossible, but he would definitely want to have that talk w Lawrence bc 1. that's his partner, and 2. of course he wants Lawrence to be aware of that/wants to hear what his feelings are. like u said though, he doesn't reject it entirely or anything like that - he just sort of needs time to understand it + see how it works, as it's absolutely smth he would have no prior familiarity with (esp being w Alison in a monogamous marriage).

the important thing here is Lawrence is comfortable asking questions. he might word things a little funny and might make Adam laugh a couple times, not unkindly, but he's genuinely so curious abt it and unafraid to ask (which is better than coming up with some false assumption)!! it's both delicate and not, which I think Adam wld prefer rather than it being too serious or bc of disapproval obviously. he always feels more comfortable in convos where they can still contain serious subject matter, but they can still laugh a little bit.

so it does take Lawrence a while to warm up to it, but not out of a place of ignorance/ridicule; he just needs to familiarize himself w it is all! and that makes Adam feel sooo much better abt it. of course there was never the intention not to tell Lawrence, but to have him accept it and maybe even consider it down the line does wonders to relax Adam.

I've actually thought abt who the first other member Lawrence kinda fell for wld be and I think it wld be Eric! it can definitely be partially attributed to the fact that bc Adam spends a lot of time around him (they ARE dating), Lawrence does too as a result, but there's more to their relationship than just being. boyfriend adjacent. they have things in common that they don't really w anyone else (i.e. being a parent that has been through a trap + had their kid directly endangered by Jigsaw and are helping them cope) and they kind of have very similar feelings (guilt/thinking things were their fault, feeling like they failed their kids, feeling like they're bad ppl like Jigsaw thought, things like that) so they bond through those things - and, of course, over both of them dating Adam.

u've mentioned this b4 + I agree w it so: I feel like Eric might kinda be the first person other than Adam to realize Lawrence's tendency to overwork himself to avoid having to confront his upset feelings. a big thing Eric does for him is he'll bring a little snack w him and maybe something to drink and he'll hand them off and be like "I know you're busy but you gotta remember to eat, I'm just gonna go chill over here," and then he'll just set himself up in a corner in the same room so that Lawrence isn't alone. he doesn't try to get him to stop, doesn't ask him what's wrong though it's clear he'd listen if Lawrence wanted to share, just makes sure he's taking care of himself + reminding him that ppl are there for him. and fr Lawrence that's kinda like. Oh. bc it's that silent type of understanding where they don't even have to announce it out loud. Lawrence doesn't feel the need to explain himself. having that not only w Adam, but Eric too, is definitely smth that sort of leads into that realization of "I think I love him too."

and there are moments where Lawrence will come to spend the night at Adam + Art?(it's up to you)/Eric's apartment when Eric falls asleep facing Lawrence while Adam is pressed up against his back and knowing the issues Eric has w his chronic insomnia + feeling safe enough to drift off to sleep easily, seeing the way being around Adam helps him relax and that being held leads him to sleep quicker than anything else, it just kinda makes Lawrence wanna hold him and not let go. he knows Eric wasn't shown that kind of tenderness often, that physical contact was something he was denied for so long, and it just. makes Lawrence Seethe that someone would ever do that to him, in this protective way that Lawrence can't deny feels a lot like love. it only ever increases when Eric wakes up screaming later and ends up with his face against Lawrence's neck once the tension fades away and he just sags against him, crying. Lawrence allows himself to hold Eric then, and he still feels like he never wants to let go. this man is so compassionate, so protective himself of the ones he loves and wld do anything to keep them safe. he is a big dog of a man that makes ppl feel held + understood and Lawrence loves him a little bit, he can't help it.

I think Lawrence finally fully realizes it when Eric stumbles across him having a panic attack bc he'd forgotten to turn the ringer off and it just so happened to go off at that moment. he's trembling and it's hard for him to breathe but Eric just kind of crouches down in front of him and is like "focus on me for a moment. can you do that?" and he rests his hands on Lawrence's upper arms. when Lawrence nods Eric takes one of his hands and places it on his chest n says "can you breathe with me?" and somehow, Lawrence steadily finds himself relaxing and able to draw more air in until he's not shaking as hard and he doesn't feel like he's sucking in air through a straw, and by then he's so exhausted by it all that he ends up with his forehead against Eric's sternum, and Eric just holds him, no words. and he says, "it's okay that it still upsets you, it's smth you can't help and that is fine. I just want you to know that." like he knew what Lawrence needed to hear, and it's just. oof. that's when Lawrence is just like Oh I See. I Love Him. I Love Him Too.

Adam is beyond delighted abt it when Lawrence actually tells him, and Lawrence can safely say that he's definitely more open to the idea after that!!

#the domesticity of it all...#it's what they deserve #saw #adam #lawrence #eric #asks #thank uuuu I was so excited to answer this!!!#I love yr asks they get me Thinkin #long post #as u can see im Very fond of yr lawrence/eric interpretation!!!

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mirage-said-dumbass-rights · 4 years

Text

A Helping Hand... er, Brush

Loba x Wraith. Wraith needs to put on makeup for a talk show interview, but has no idea how to do makeup. Fortunately, a certain lady notices, and lends her a hand. (1.2k words. @soulheartthewolf kept ya waitin huh?)

“Hnnnng… dammit!”

Wraith sighed, closing the makeup kit and resting her chin on her palms, staring at her face in the mirror. She honestly had no idea what she was doing.

Her eyeliner was smudged and sloppy, her eye shadow was overdone to say the least, the contour looked like it was done by a three year old trying to fingerpaint, and she had no idea how to make her eyebrows “pop” like the email asked. Not to mention the fact that she didn't even attempt to do the mascara.

The only thing she knew how to handle with makeup was the primer and the foundation, but that was only because she had to, to be on camera for the games. Besides that, she knew next to nothing about makeup. Besides the fact that the new girl definitely knew her way around it…

“Having trouble, meu bem?”

Right as she was thinking about her, Loba’s voice comes from behind her, getting louder little by little as she approaches. Wraith glanced at her, before looking back at the mirror. “Well, saying I’m struggling would be an understatement at best,” she confessed, “And a lie at worst.”

“Aw, bebê…” Loba sighed, Wraith feeling her fingers going across her shoulder. She sat next to her, on the counter. "You aren't usually the makeup type. Are you going somewhere… fancy?"

"It's for an interview," she answered quickly, trying to hide the frustration in her voice. "Talk show type thing. The email they sent specifically requested 'non-arena attire,' makeup included. And I know next to nothing about that."

She grabbed a wet wipe, removing the botched attempt from her face as best she could. She then hung her head, sighing. The interview was only in a few hours, and she had no idea what to do…

Loba hooked a finger under her chin, gently lifting her head up to face her. "Hmm…" She was almost scanning Wraith's face, thinking something up.

She blushed, not quite used to this kind of attention. It felt… weird, but… nice. "U-uhh, what are you…?" She stammered, Loba moving her head to look at all the angles of her face.

“Don’t move,” Loba ordered, going to her area. Wraith heard her moving things around, searching and mumbling, before a triumphant “Aha!” Loba reemerged, sauntering over like she usually did. She dropped a pretty big handbag on the counter, smirking. “Do you mind if I take a crack at it, amor?”

Wraith seemed confused, looking between Loba and the bag, before settling on staring at Loba’s… gorgeous face. “...You… want to do my makeup for me?”

“Of course…” She gently drags a finger along Wraith’s jaw, making her shudder. “I never want a girl to think she’s not worthy of the camera.”

Wraith blushed cutely, tearing her eyes away from Loba, but not her face. As to let Loba do her work, of course. “…Well… go ahead.”

Loba immediately got to work, pulling out… something, and gently dabbing it around her cheeks, forehead, nose, and under her eyes. She pulled out a brush, wiping around those same areas. “Once I’m done with you, I promise, the first question they’ll ask is who did your makeup.”

“…Loba… you really don’t need to do this,” Wraith mentioned, as Loba pulled out another brush. “Seriously. I’m sure they have a makeup artist-”

“Would you prefer highlighter, bronzer or blush?”

“…Huh?”

Loba pulled out three… discs with a color inside them, one a paler color, one pinkish, and one that was a darker color, but similar to the first. “Which one do you think would work the most with your skin?”

Wraith hesitated, before pointing to the first one. “That one, I… guess.”

Loba nodded, putting the other two away, and gently brushing some of it along her left cheek. “Amor, would you rather have a random person who’s never met you before attempt to make you beautiful, with no consideration for your input?” She switched to the other cheek. “Or someone who’s fought alongside you in battle, who knows your strengths and weaknesses, your personality, and who does understand that you have an opinion?”

Wraith paused, blushing a little, not quite expecting this level of… intimacy, even from Loba. “…I… well… I’d prefer the latter.”

“Exactly,” Loba responded. She proceeded to pull out a palette of various colors that Wraith recognized as eyeshadow. “Do you want purple or red?”

She pointed her eyeshadow brush at a bright red, which definitely wouldn’t work, and at a darker purple… that kinda reminded her of the void. “Uhh… the purple,” she responded.

“Good choice,” Loba smiled. “Close your eyes.”

Wraith did, and she couldn’t help but think of how intimate this all was. Loba was standing over her, so close to her face, having full control of the situation… but still making an effort to be gentle with her. It felt… nice.

“And now for the eyeshadow…” Loba mused.

She didn’t remember a time when someone was this close to her, being so careful not to hurt her… until something came to mind. A flash, a memory of the labs. The scientists experimenting on her. But they didn’t treat her like a person. To them, she was nothing but a test subject. Their fragile little guinea pig, not to be harmed, but only because they wanted to keep their sick little experiments going…

She snapped out of it when she felt Loba gently shaking her shoulder, Wraith opening her eyes. “Is everything alright, amor?” She asked, concerned. “Your hear… breathing was quicker than usual.”

“…Y-yeah,” Wraith replied, taking a deep breath. “…Uhh… anything else?”

Loba visibly relaxed, with a gentle smile, pulling out a couple more things. “Mmhmm. Your lips.”

“Oh… duh.”

Loba giggled, ordering her to, “Hold still. This is harder than you might think.”

Wraith did as asked, holding still. Loba gently pressed something to her upper lip, then to the lower one. “Now, the most important aspect of any look…” Loba mumbled, Wraith hearing her unscrew some tubes of lipstick. She then showed her three colors of lipstick, a light purple, a teal, and a dark purple that was a similar shade to the eyeshadow. “Thoughts?”

She paused. The dark purple would look nice, but the light would be a nice contrast to the eyeshadow… “I think… I think the light purple would look better,” she answered.

Loba nodded, gently pressing it to her lips, applying a layer or two, before pulling back, and putting everything back. She looked back at Wraith’s face one last time, admiring her work with a smile on her face. “Want to see the finished product, amor?”

After a moment, Wraith nodded, sitting up and looking at the mirror. What she found made her jaw drop, with a murmured “Holy shit…”

It was gorgeous. The eyeshadow looked like the night sky, her lips had a perfect purple to compliment her eyes, her cheeks seemed like they were glowing, and she somehow didn’t notice Loba making her mascara and eyebrows absolutely perfect. She almost didn’t recognize herself, it was so good.

“Are you happy with that, beautiful?” Loba casually wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making Wraith blush slightly.

“It’s… I-it’s perfect,” She stuttered, looking down in embarrassment, before looking up at her. “Th… thanks.”

Loba smiled, patting her on the back. “They’re going to love you,” She reassured her.

Wraith smiled sheepishly, blushing again. “…Okay. …Wish me luck.”

“Boa sorte.” Loba winked at her, taking her makeup bag and sauntering away. Flustered, Wraith went to change from her casual attire to something that the talk show might accept… preferably a skirt of some kind.

A/N: I haven’t written a fanfic in a while jesus christ. If this is entirely incomprehensible, blame me for being rusty lul. Also remind me to never write about makeup again

#apex #apex legends #lobaith #apex wraith #apex legends wraith #wraith #apex loba #apex legends loba #loba #apex fanfic #apex legends fanfic #here's a challenge:#share this with at least one of ur mutuals if u don't reblog it #or do both #or neither #im not ur dad lul

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hobiwonder · 5 years

Text

A vase of flowers | (m)

Genre: Smut, enemies to lovers.

Pairing: Wealthy art student!taehyung x art student!reader

Warnings: slight angst. language. foreplay, descriptions of unprotected sex, dirty talk. it’s pretty tame otherwise.

Words: 10k

Summary: Art prodigy Taehyung comes to your art store out of desperation when he doesn’t have enough paint to finish his latest piece. That wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t hate his elitist ass.

a/n: this was just to get back in to writing. Its not edited and probably doesn't flow the best. But it did get me writing so here u go!! feedback is much appreciated :)

(he’s a work of art himself!!1!!!1!)

The hustle and bustle of students – females in particular – in the hall outside the lecture theatre was more infuriating than you had anticipated. What else did you expect though? The one day you don’t come late to the lecture is the day Kim Taehyung had decided to show up to class so the hallways outside the room being cramped like a chicken farm was inevitable. Even Minnie sitting beside you was craning her neck forward to catch a glimpse of the artistic prodigy – never mind his out of the ordinary good looks – before the class started. He was very much a superstar at your university but you will never understand why people were so obsessed with people who were not actually that great if you just looked past the good looks and the talent. Talent didn’t automatically make someone a good person and everyone’s obsession with the teal haired artist really pissed you off.

“Ugh, when will these bimbos shut up. He’s not a god!” Your words are muffled against your sweater clad forearm as you try and rest your head before class started. Having the closing shift the night before was one of the few things you despised when you had a class this early in the next morning. But you still showed up to every one of them. Unlike someone else.

“Well it doesn’t help that he looks like one.” Minnie is just shrugging while she continues to lean over her chair to watch the girls twirl their hair, throw back their heads in laughter whenever Kim Taehyung says something ‘funny’, nudging his shoulder with their own to show their frankness when really – none of these girls probably knew him past his bedroom since he rarely showed up to class. But news of him being a womanizer was common although slightly more hushed than that of the football team captain and co-caption Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi. Those boys were a headache for another day.

Kim Taehyung wasn’t anything special. In fact – he rarely showed up to class, was given special privileges you were sure of it because he was always in the top three students despite showing his face once in a blue moon, had every professor whipped for his pert ass because of how well connected he was in the industry as well as his family being one of the founding fathers of your current university.

Sure, someone like that is bound to be more popular than your regular high achiever or talented artist but the fact that he had everyone absolutely nuts about him was infuriating. On top of th-

“Are you done with your inner monologue? You’re blocking my way.” The unmistakably deep voice belongs to none other than the boy who you wanted to punch so very much. But that wouldn’t be wise given that most of the class was watching. His annoyingly attractive smirk was always there. Like it was just how his mouth was shaped but you knew that he always made the look a bit more condescending when speaking to you. Not that he would let anyone else know though. Bastard knew how to keep his persona up and you just wanted to smack him even more!

“Oh sorry. Forgot your name was on that seat since you barely come to class. I’ll remember for the next time when you make your monthly appearance.” Minnie is nudging you with her elbow no doubt to shut you up and it’s not the first time this exact scenario had taken place. But you wanted to keep yourself in check since no doubt the rest of your comrades would give Minnie a hard time since they didn’t have the balls to annoy you because of your obvious dislike of Kim Taehyung.

“Missed me, did you?” Your little victory smile is slipping off your face when his smirk deepens and you have to physically grab your desk and grit your teeth from snapping at him again while you move your feet out of the way so his smug ass can get to his stupid seat. Thankfully his seat was towards the end of the row so you didn’t have to catch glimpses of his pretentious face.

“You wish trust fund baby.” Alas, he isn’t affected. Not even a bit as he winks your way while walking to ‘his’ seat.

“Leave the pet names for people who actually get to be with me.” That’s it. Youj will break his stupid obnoxious snobby face!

“Calm down y/n. Everyone is watching.” She holding on to your arm while your eyeballs glare at Taehyung’s direction without even blinking.

“All the more satisfying when I kiss him with my fist! Minnie let me go you knob.” While you’re trying to wrestle your arm free; your professor has walked in looking pleasantly surprised with the semi-full lecture theatre. His gaze almost instantly goes directly to Taehyung because even he knows that most of these new faces that show up once in a while as well are because of Taehyung. They nod at each other before he starts the class and your mouth is agape that no one even questions the favouritism in this class. A bunch of ass kissers!

“Are you seeing this? His daddy probably plays golf with the prof. Jung Soo!”

“So what, y/n? You’re forgetting the rest of them also have parents who play golf with Taehyung’s dad. Most of these rats are rich as fuck. Not everyone comes from humbler beginnings.” Minnie is smiling hopefully as she watches you pout but her response only makes you snort.

“Are you forgetting you’re one of these ‘rats’?”

“Don’t remind me.” She falls back in her seat while hiding her face at the mention of her filthy rich parents being business partners with Kim Taehyung’s. When you’d first found out how well off your best friend was it only made you more enraged. If she could be a decent human being and not get any special treatment – despite being extremely talented as well – then why stupid Kim Taehyung? Minnie had a banging body and a face to match not that it should matter but you were so sick of the double standards. Your best friend also deserved special treatment dammit!

“Why? You shouldn’t be ashamed of being rich, hot AND a decent human being. I would so be one of those girls drooling after that canvas demon if I was gay.”

“Bitch I’m almost convinced you aregay but the way you’re ready to drop your panties for Min Yoongi tells me otherwise.” You only try to muffle your laughter while smacking Minnie’s knee, mumbling a ‘shut up’ before you both opt to pay attention to what your professor is going on about. Not before you catch Taehyung watching you like he was about to grade your upcoming assessment. You just send him another glare and try to ignore his overtly attractive physical presence. How could someone just sittingseem attractive, you will never get it. God really favoured some people more than others huh?

“Thanks for coming. Have a nice day!” The chime of the register as it slid closed was a sound you were starting to hate. The smile on your face was tired and probably was becoming very obviously fake. But that was just a typical day at the arts and crafts store – the only one in the near vicinity of the university hence the more than average traffic even close to 7pm at night on a weekday. Since the store was employed with almost entirely all students, it was able to stay open longer than the regular hours to allow the students with day classes to work during the night shifts. You were an exception though. Being on the lower end of the income spectrum among your peers, you needed as much work as you could get. Doing a bachelors in fine arts helped too as you used the tools that the store sold, on a regular basis. It definitely came in handy when assisting first years and some mature aged students who needed extra help in finding the right type of brushes or paints needed for their canvases.

“You good? You can take off for the rest of the night you know?” You know that Sungwoon is trying to sound helpful but you knew his real intentions. Scoffing in his direction you just grab your blue water bottle to take a good swig and wake you up.

“So you can steal my shift and work instead? Not today satan.”

“You’re literally so dramatic.” He says while heaving the biggest breath out like he was any better. “Maybe I genuinely just want you to rest and not have your face turn in to one of those creepy smiling masks from that one movie.” He’s clicking his fingers s if that’ll help him recall the name of the film any faster. Lucky for him, you knew what he was talking about.

“The Purge?”

“That’s it! See, you knew exactly what I was referring to. You need sleep.” Sungwoon is nodding while looking at you like you stank or something. Ugh screw boys.

“If I did, you’re the first person I’ll get rid off.” You deadpan and you can almost pinpoint when he starts to realise you may not be joking. But you were of course. He was a little shit but all in good fun.

“Well,” he’s picking up his bag and making sure to clock out from the app the store used to make sure everyone was getting to work on time, “I’ll be going then. Have fun scaring off rest of the customers and drowning the revenue for today.”

His squealing laughter is the last thing you hear before he’s scuttling out when you try and smack him across his bicep. Sungwoon was probably one of the few boys you could stand and were actually close enough with for them to joke around like that with you because apart from Minnie, there weren’t many people who really liked talking to you. That much was clear when you’d moved near the campus from your town when you’d been accepted to the rather elite Art University.

Coming from a small town – you’d think you were more friendly but that wasn’t the case with you. You’d grown up with a strict father that made sure to discipline you if you ever messed up your tasks at his workshop. Ever since you could remember how to read and write, you had been helping him out with the business as he could not. His own father – your grandfather – had been even more strict on him according to your mother so there was no changing him. You had never really minded in doing the book-keeping for him or making sure the small town client paid on time after having their cars tended to. That’s until you had started your Junior year in high school and had the choice of choosing between subjects now that you were to apply for universities after. Or that’s what the plan was for most children. You had taken Art as a spare since it was the easiest class at the time and you really didn’t need any complicated subjects to study for because you were having to work at the workshop with your dad even more as you were getting older.

Being an only child also meant that all the expectations your parents had fell upon you to see them through. It also meant that the only time you interacted with your fellow classmates was during class. Not even after because as soon as school would finish – you’d have to rush to the workshop to help your dad sign out cars from the shop to the owners on time. He specifically made appointments towards the end of your school day just so you could be there and help him make sure the checks he was given by the more wealthier customers – only a few – were not for an amount less than he’d quoted them with. Believe it or not, it had happened and every time it did you had to stop yourself from smacking the bastards who had tried to take advantage of your father just because he couldn’t read. Ant to make the matter even more ridiculous, most of the people who tried to scam your father had been those who could actually afford his services. Not Joe who had a farm and sold eggs locally as his main source of living, not Jihoon’s father who was a delivery man and needed his vehicle to keep working and provide for him family and certainly not the old lady who had her truck serviced by your father so she could get to her appointments to the doctor, on time despite her only income being what her son sent from the city where he worked as a chef and had his own family to feed.

The world was filled with unkind people and most of them were those who could afford most things but still tried to take the less fortunate’s share too. Your father was a calm man but all his frustrations were usually taken out on you whenever you would rightfully insult those who tried to seek discounts despite knowing that your father wouldn’t be able to afford the tools he needed to do a fair job on the vehicles if he didn’t get paid the amount he had set on the pricelist which was dismal compared the mechanics you have seen in the city.

But of course, he wouldn’t say much to those low-lives because at least he was getting business. And that was better than nothing. When you’d finally let him know at the end of your senior year that you’d applied to an arts university rather than the business school he had hoped you would go to – things had not gone well, to say the least. Of course all his anger would be directed at you that day from the shop as well as finding out that his only child was not interested in business at all. You had done it as much as you could for the sake of helping out and honestly? Just not knowing what was out there for you to study and do with your life. But If there was anything that working with your father had taught you was that if you didn’t take a chance sooner than later – you’d end up having to rely on someone else for the rest of your life. Just like your father relied on you for so long because he just never got around to even finish school because of doing exactly what you had been – helping out your granddad.

The day you had left for university had been hard and was the second time you had cried. Your father hadn’t even looked at you but your mother had clutched on to you until you had to physically pull her away when your taxi had arrived. Even after making sure there was someone to help out your father at the shop, there was still apprehension present in your gut. It had all felt wrong somehow even as you had been unpacking your stuff in your flat the next night. Thankfully, all the hesitancy, all the fights and the sleepless nights had been worth it when you’d gone in to your first class the next day. You’d been excited to meet new people, make friends, make memories you didn’t even knew you had the option to make. But what do you know, getting accepted in to an elite university meant there were more of the same people you had fought off and defended your father from.

Meeting Minnie was almost a miracle. She had been the only one to come up to you being desperate to find a buddy to get lost around the campus with and not like the rest who had taken one look at your jeans and plaid shirt and moved on to find others with the same clothing or designer bags. People were so materialistic in the city it was almost unbelievable. In your town you had been able to find others who were more so on your social and economic status and feel comfortable. But in the city you were outnumbered. Maybe that’s why people like Kim Taehyung got on your nerves even more than usual. You’d noticed his elitist behaviour when invitations had been sent to attend the commencing party at his house in the first week you’d been attending the university and instantly you knew you would never be able to stand him or people like him. Only a certain number and certain looking people – girls to be exact – had been invited to the famous Kim estate. You’d only found out when Minnie had asked what you were going to wear to the party. The look on your face had probably given away your lie that you weren’t actually invited when you’d made up some excuse of not wanting to go. Minnie being the good sport and the only decent person you had known, had made some excuse about not ‘feeling it’ and stayed in that night and watched all of Harry Potter series with you. With you watching them for the first time.

“Bugger.” Your thoughts are interrupted when you almost trip over the bucket of sale items Sungwoon forgot to move. Taking a deep breath, you pick up the relatively heavy bucket that contained tubes of oil paint in colours such as black, white and red that were bought the most and move it to the stock room so it can be displayed again the next morning. Your shift was going to end in another 2 hours so now most of the work included moving display stock to the back room and print out labels for the discounts that were going up tomorrow morning. This is probably why you didn’t completely hate night shifts because other than a few customers – it mostly involved you working silently and most times even able to use headphones without having to worry about missing anyone at the till waiting for you.

“Hello? You guys still open?” You’d just finished putting away the tubes and the paint brushes when the front door had opened – as signalled by the bell atop it – meaning there was a customer.

“Coming!” Quickly getting down from the ladder where you’d been putting the paint in their designated boxes, you rush outside. “Hi, how can I- Oh. It’s just you.”

Taehyung is scoffing towards you when you roll your eyes seeing as it’s not a real customer. It was true. The last few time she’d come in – he’d browsed for all of 5 minutes before making a weird face and leaving. Probably going to buy his pretentious paints from his pretentious shop. It was as if he only came to the store to make fun of all the products most students living on campus – or not filthy rich like him – used.

“Isn’t that against some customer service code? To have this sort of attitude?” His bright hair has somehow made the place look a little less mundane, you hate to admit it. His very clear skin and the various rings he wore didn’t help either in making you feel less than. You hated how much he actually affected your mood.

“For actual customers? Probably yeah.” This time, it’s him who’s rolling his eyes while his hands comes up to have a feel of a synthetic brush that was hanging in front of him.

“What makes you think I’m not a customer?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“I actually am here to buy something this time.” His response only makes you smirk as you hum.

“So you do admit that you only come here to flaunt your wealth. That’s a good sign Taehyung.” But for some reason, the teasing that would usually make you feel better doesn’t feel as satisfying when Taehyung is just looking around like he’s in a pickle rather than through an insult back at you.

“Look, I need some paint and maybe a few natural hair brushes. I would go to-”

“Your overpriced and pretentious art store?”

“-my regular spot but I need to finish this painting tonight.” He completely ignores you when you cut in with a smirk and almost sounds like he is pleading. Wait. He was. The new found info perks you up more than you’d anticipated and it’s almost exciting knowing Kim Taehyung’s fate lies in yhour hands. Okay, maybe an exaggeration but still exviting. So you do what anyhone else in your position would – milk out the entire debacle.

“Well, well, well.” Leaning on your elbows on the counter, you can’t help but feel sort of like an evil villain finally with the perfect opportunity to strike. Except, you weren’t the villain really. You were the good guy!

“For fuck’s sake.” Taehyung mumbles lowly under his breath but you could hear him loud and clear. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

You wanted to be cruel, you really did. You wanted to tell him you had ran out of the supplies but you were too tired and honestly, he was probably going to buya bunch of stuff and if you made a sale above 50,000 won in one transaction then you would make some sweet commission. So whatever.

“Luckily for you, I’m a decent human being so,” stepping out from behind the register, you just deadpan at him, “right this way.”

He seems surprised and so are you. At yourself. Because you’re not sure why you’re being this nice to him when he’s made fun of you on more than one occasion.

“I’m slightly scared you’re leading me somewhere quieter so you can murder me.” His voice is slightly meek and you’re thankful that he can’t see your face because you’re trying to hold in ugly laughter that Kim Taehyung is actually scared of you when alone despite acting like hot shit when surrounded by a herd of girls.

“A good, educated guess. But not today.”

“…. So there is a chance for that to happen another day?” Spinning around to face him abruptly – damn okay maybe you should major in acting because Taehyung flinches but tries to play it off by shrugging his broad shoulders.

“Maybe.” You’re slightly too close to him because you have to crane your neck up to meet his gaze. Just when his own slips down to your lips, you quickly gesture towards the aisle you’ve just stopped in front of. “Here you’ll find what you need. Brushes and paints.”

“Thanks.” You just shrug before turning around to go back to the cash register. That plan doesn’t go too well because a warm grip on your wrist stops you in your tracks and almost on instinct, you’re ripping out your hand from the grasp as soon as you feel it.

“Woah, sorry! I didn’t mean to-” You just cut him off to move past the subject before he even brings it up.

“What do you want now?” Taehyung pauses for a few seconds as if not ready to let your jumpy reaction go just yet but thankfully decides to drop it.

“Look, I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate and rally needed the sup-”

“Taehyung, I’m not interested in hearing how you would never set foot in a place where peasants like us – or normal people really – shop so just get to it.”

He however is just biting on the inside of his cheeks as if to burry a smile before it breaks through. “You’re not very patient are you?”

“I haven’t been put in many situations that really require it, so.” You just shrug in his direction but the flash that goes through his eyes that resembled molten dark chocolate sends an involuntary shiver down your spine and thankfully the air con is on and you could blame your odd reaction on to that if he noticed. Why was he looking at you like that?

“That’s too bad. Sometimes the rewards for waiting are quite fulfilling at the end.” And somehow, you’re not sure if he just means that in general or…

His heavy gaze travelling down the length of your body only makes you more eager to move on before you lose all the good comebacks you had at the tip of your tongue just because his looks were making you weak in the knees.

“Whatever.” You turn to leave once again and again, Taehyung reaches out to grab your wrist but pulls himself back before he can. Thankfully, you have already seen him this time so you just cross your hands under your chest, tapping your foot while you wait for him to spit it out.

“Just help me okay? I’m not familiar with these… brands.”

“That’s because none of them are Gucci.” He just rolls his eyes but follows you down the asile anyway.

“You do know that Gucci doesn’t make paint right? If they did it would be amazing though. Maybe I should write to them about this. Hm.” He’s started talking to himself but you start pointing out the different types you had available because you don’t have time to have causal chats with him like you two were friends. Despite his weird behaviour before.

“If you’re looking for oil paints, these ones are smoother and the colour payoff is better than others and if you want buildable colours then go for… this.” You’re about to say they are cheaper than the first brand you had pointed out but then realise that he most likely doesn’t care about the price. Though he doesn’t seem to be looking at you at the moment but only paying attention to the paints just like he paid attention the content in the few lectures you’d seen him at.

“Do they not say the ingredient at the back? That’s peculiar.”

“What’s peculiar is you using the word ‘peculiar’.” You mumble while still watching him inspect the different tubes as if he was going to drink them or something.

“May I get the list of ingredients for these ones here? And the lightfastness rating please.”

“It’s literally at the bottom of the tube.” His eyebrows furrow as he looks back at the tube and looks at the bottom again.

“Oh. Isn’t there like a booklet or something that comes with this so I can check?”

You just continue to stare at him.

“Taehyung, this is a campus arts store and our most expensive paint is 55,000 won. So no, we don’t have fancy brands that make ‘booklets’ for every paint. But if you must know,” You sigh, rolling your eyes at how high maintenance he was with his paints, “I can have a look at the delivery boxed for the ingredients. I know that all of these paints of this brand have a lightfastness rating of II at least.”

“Excellent! And yes that would be great, y/n. I just prefer my oils to be made from pure Linseed is all.” He has a bright smile on his face while he shrugs like that’s just the way it is. But of course, you want to punch him once more for making your job harder than it needs to. He was a college student. What did he need such high quality paints for? Ugh.

So you grit your teeth and walk back to the storage room and fish for the delivery boxes of the brand that Taehyung was interested in. “Stupid rich boy. Used to always getting what he wants.” The mumbling continues on your part while you try to locate the box as quickly as possible so he can go away and stop making your shift harder than it needs to be at almost 8:30 PM at night.

“Aha!” You have finally spotted the boxes that were stacked way at the bottom. Quickly reading through the large ingredient list, you confirm that the paints are unfortunately not made purely from Linseed oil.

“I have some bad news.” When you walk back out to where Taehyung is testing a few brushes, you can see his face drop because you’re sure he can guess what you’re about to say. “The binder used for these paints is a mixture of Linseed and walnut oil as well as a few others.” You shrug but Taehyung seems to be losing it.

“God fucking damnit. I’m screwed.” He’s started to pace around the aisle, looking like his life has just ended and his dog has died. Did he have a dog? You loved dogs.

“Why are you freaking out so badly?” He looks at you like you’re the one who’s acting weird.

“Because I have an auction in three weeks and it usually takes me that long to even finish a painting.” Of course he had an auction. It was common knowledge around campus that he sold his paintings for quite a sum at a few well known auctions. But you couldn’t remember another one happening anytime soon though.

“What auction? There isn’t one scheduled for at least 3 months.” Taehyung is hesitating when you question him. He looks like he would rather not mention it but in the end, sighs and tells you anyway.

“It’s more of an exhibition. Just for my paintings.”

“Oh wow.” Your eyes have widened at the mention of his solo exhibition. He was rich enough to afford to hold one so it shouldn’t be that surprising. But it still was a big deal even for a privileged student like him because you need to have enough credibility and a loyal customer base to attract enough people to an exhibition that is solely filled with your own artwork and not a collection of artists. “ I didn’t know you had your own exhibitions.”

He scratches the back of his head as he shrugs nonchalantly but you see the nerves showing through with how his hands shake slightly. “It’s the first one.”

“Oh.”

“Whatever I’ll just look somewhere else.”

“I use a medium of stand oil, linseed and turpentine, a little wax and add a small amount of cobalt drier to control drying time for my paintings.” You have blurted out your little trick before you could stop yourself. In your defence, he just looked so pitiful. You had to help. He also seems just as surprised at you suggestion and even more surprised when you walk around gathering the supplies you’ve just mentioned.

“Oh… thanks for the tip. I never really thought about that since I never really needed to…”

He silently follows you to the register where you place all the items and scan them so he can pay. Whatever. Maybe you helping him will bring some good karma and give your career a break too and your painting will finally be displayed at the Montero Art Gallery. It was a local gallery but a lot of successful artists you admire had started out from there and you were hoping that your work could be good enough one day to be displayed there too.

“How did you go through all your paints by the way? Should you have a ton of them because you’re supposedly always painting.”

“Supposedly?” Taehyung is smirking while his eyebrows are raised in mock disbelief at your suspicion. “Well, I used up most of them when I had sex on a canvas with Jihyo. Made for a good painting though. Maybe I’ll display that one too.” He’s grinning from ear to ear and you’ve just halted while he pays on the eftpos machine. Okay you definitely regret telling him your trick when he put himself in this position by being a horndog.

“You’re literally so gross.”

“Hey, abstract art is also a thing you know?” He looks serious enough that if he hadn’t said ‘abstract art’ you would think you had actually offended him. You obviously hadn’t when he just winks in your direction while he gathers his items and leaves.

“Asshole.”

It’s been a week since you first saw The Kim Taehyung pop by the little arts store that had previously been too beneath him to even consider buying his supplies there. Though ever since you’d told him about your little trick, he’d been bugging you non-stop on writing tips and you’re almost sure he’s doing it to… well, bug you. It’s as if he isn’t even aware that he’s an artistic prodigy because you’ve seen his paintings yourself and they were hyped up for a reason. Even a bitter person like you could admit that.

So when you get a special request by your boss one Friday evening, you’re surprised to say the least when you figure why you’re even asked to deliver supplies in the first place.

“Are you serious?” Your boss being the sweet old lady she is, is just pushing up her glasses as she nods vigorously at you.

“Of course dear! Must be some poor student who really is in need of help. He sounded quite desperate on the phone.” The old woman was way too nice for her own good. And while you appreciated her big heart, if she says yes to one person that the supplies can be delivered to his house then then word will get around and sooner than later, you’ll have a flood of students ordering their supplies over the phone and wanting them to be delivered. If that was going to be the case then you’ll have to quit since you can’t deliver because you don’t have a car. You relied on public transport damnit!

“Or he’s just lazy Ma.” Yes. Everyone called her ma upon her request. Short for Marion. Not that you minded because she was sweet as honey and really did remind you of your own mother. And she treated you like one too. Especially right now when she just scowls at you and asks you to stop being lazy yourself and deliver the package she’s prepared.

“Ugh fine.” You whine until the very end and she’s just wishing you a safe journey. Thankfully she’d leant you her car for today – it was her idea after all – so you wouldn’t need to spend an hour trying to find the place. It seemed to be quite close to the shop surprisingly. And unsurprisingly, the apartment is in a trendy but expensive neighbourhood. Most kids who went to your school probably lived in these buildings. The one you were supposed to go at though was on the top floor and you’re already angry that this buttcrack insisted on delivery and manipulated poor Marion into having his stuff delivered to his door rather than being at the front reception so the exchange could be faster.

When you reach the top floor, you pull out the receipt to hand it to him first thing as he opens the door and don’t have to spend more time than necessary in this place that you felt so out-of-place in. You’ve already rung the doorbell while you read the receipt and that’s mistake number one that night. It dawns on you who this person must be when you’re reading the names of the exact items Taehyung had bought from you last week. You could turn around and go really. Only if you hadn’t already rang the doorbell and he hadn’t opened it right as you’re setting the heavy bag down.

“Well hello there.” His deep voice is an anchor itself as you stop your movements right then and look up at his smirking face that looking down at you. Ugh. Like always.

“Hi.” Slowly, you straighten yourself up, the bag still near your feet as you step away, trying not to gawk at his perfectly toned skin that is showing way too much from between his unbuttoned shirt. “Here’s your stuff. Goodbye.”

“Oh good. You can set it inside in the kitchen.” You’re gritting your teeth in order to stop yourself from slapping his cheery voice right out of his throat with a punch. Okay maybe that’ll be too much. Maybe. You won’t know until you try though.

“Come on.” He’s gesturing inside his expensive apartment that shinier and cleaner than any place you’ve ever seen. He probably has it professionally cleaned.

“I’m not coming inside you weirdo.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not my type.” Somehow that makes you even more mad and you hate that it does. Fuck him honestly. You knew you weren’t his ‘type’. His type included skinny, rich and bad artists. Just so he could get off on a power-control dynamic you’re guessing.

You just pick up the heavy package without breaking eye contact and step inside, walking straight to the kitchen and placing the materials on the counter. The inside décor is surprising when you take in the various canvases strewn about in the living room on different easels. But what really takes your breath away is the familiar artwork that you’d looked at time and time again when you’d been lacking inspiration. When you’d been in a rut and everything had been too much and all you would want to do is quit. But looking at the work that evoked emotions from a place inside that even you hadn’t still made sense of it was the only thing that had kept you going many times throughout the years you’d been at university.

But how was Taehyung interested in such underrated art? You’d never heard him mention Vincent Van Gogh before. And yet most of his paintings covered the walls of his apartment.

“You like Van Gogh?” Taehyung has gone back to his pallet as he mixes the various shades of reds and oranges together.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Like, all of our school?”

“Nah. They pretend that better artists exist.” His answer surprises you. You’d never pegged him as someone who appreciated the more sombre period of art. His paintings usually were a lot more cheery and sometimes rather complicated.

You’re kind of lost in the long hallway covered with several paintings. The tall ceilings and the dim lighting only making you more excited to take in such beautiful art in silence with the only sound being the bristles of Taehyung’s brushes across the canvas.

“You like his work too I assume?”

“Mhm.” You’re too lost in the various paintings to really properly answer him. You’ve almost forgotten where you are until Taehyung speaks again. But this time, from somewhere far closer as you can smell the musky scent that always accompanied him.

“This one is my favourite.” His voice startles you a little when he appears just behind you, slightly to the side so you can look to the side and watch his long neck fall back when he looks up at the painting.

“I like it too.” Your voice is quieter than before. Like neither of you want to disturb the air surrounding you. It’s probably the first time you haven’t felt instantly annoyed by Taehyung’s presence. When you look besides you again, you don’t realise it’s the second mistake you’ve made that night. Because Taehyung is staring right back at you and this time he doesn’t stop. Your breath hitches in your throat when you catch his dimly lit face staring intensely at you. Or maybe it was the lighting that amplified every look. Every gesture. Whatever it was, in that moment, you’d never felt more attracted to Kim Taehyung.

“I lied.” His whisper floats across your skin and the light breeze that comes with the breath from his words has your eyes closing for just a few seconds longer when they blink.

“A-About what?” Taehyung has somehow moved even closer because you could feel the heat from his chest seeping through your own shirt. It also didn’t help that his shirt was fully unbuttoned and the smooth expanse of his chest was absolutely bare for your traitorous eyes to feast on.

He brings up a hand, slowly as if not to startle you like he had last week, and tucked the stray strand of hair behind your ear. “About you not being my type.”

The only thing your body seems to be able to do at the moment is turn your face back towards the painting, heart thudding in your chest as you feel his hands move all of the hair from your neck out of the way to the other side. Exposing the sensitive flesh to the cool air inside his apartment. “You’re exactly my type and better.”

This time the words are whispered s close to your ear that you have to physically clutch tightly on to yourself so you don’t flinch from his breath tickling the flesh of your neck. You’re biting your lip, trying not make any sudden movements or noise because honestly, you didn’t trust yourself to not jump his bones. How was he this sexy and annoying at the same time?

“I kn-know.” You’re hoping that teasing is evident in your voice but that plan has gone down the gutter as soon as Taehyung presses his luscious lips in to an open mouthed kiss against the side of your throat. So instead, your response comes out way too breathy and you can’t stop the moan escaping you in the end.

“You’re just always looking for trouble aren’t you, y/n?” How is his voice perfectly steady? He doesn’t even sound remotely affected as he brings his arms around you from behind, fully moving behind you as well while he continues to undo the strings of control you had tied tightly around your brain. Because seems like you’re only thinking with your vagina at the moment.

His hand have slipped beneath your shirt after playing with the hem for a few seconds and testing the waters. When you don’t push his hands away – you could barely breath at the moment – he slips them inside your thin shirt, tracing circles across your torso and up until his warm, large – so fucking huge – hands are taking handfuls of your breasts before he’s gently squeezing the mounds.

“Oh.” You feel like you’re going boneless by the second as your head lolls back and on to his shoulder and you’re just praying that your brain shuts up and lets you enjoy these sensations without the red alarm bells going off in your head that you hated him!

You hit mute on said alarms as soon as you feel his index finger and thumbs rolling your puffy nipples through the fabric of your bra into hardened pointy tips and you’ve finally lost the filter on your mouth. “F-Fuck. Taehyung, ungh.”

“Look at you. Thought you hated me, huh?”

“I still, mh f-fuck, d-do.” Being a slave to your stubborn ways, you’re retaliating with your words before you can even keep yourself in check. Taehyung doesn’t seem to be bothered though. He’s just chuckling at your pathetic attempts at trying to hold on to some autonomy even if your body is betraying the fuck out of you. The constant squeezing, rolling and pinching of your nipples has you almost mindless, you’re not sure you can survive much more than this.

“Sure. At least your body doesn’t lie though.” He’s squeezing the mounds firmly this time before he’s slipping one of his hands downwards again. You’re aching and wet and aroused beyond words but finally you’re up to the point where you can easily ignore the rational side of your brain and let your body take control.

Breathing loudly, you’re almost panting with every inch that Taehyung’s hand moves closer to your underwear. You’re so soaked that you can feel your panties sticking to the contours of your pussy lewdly and knowing that Taehyung was about to touch you there had you dripping in more. You can’t remember the last time you were this horny from just foreplay.

Taehyung closes his lips around your pulse point before he sucks a punishing bruise in that patch of skin. “Spread your legs y/n. That’s it.”

He’s cooing at you when you instantly comply, whimpering his name when he presses his entire palm on your clit, rubbing the hard nub in gentle circles while you’re about to cum just from his words alone.

“Look at you. So wet and soaking. Have you always been this wet when you’ve been giving me nasty looks baby? Hm? Tell me.” His pace is increasing and the audible sound of your arousal coming through the layers of clothing makes you want to hide your face from the sheer embarrassment.

“T-Tae. Please.” You’re pleading sounds like you’re on the verge of tears and it’s not too far off from the truth. Your legs are spread but not enough for you to completely enjoy the feel of his hands. Not that he seems to be in any rush though.

“Please what y/n? Please use your pussy as your apology? Are you going to be a mouthy slut or let me use your cunt to milk my cock? It’s the least I deserve after the way you’ve treated me in every lecture.”

He’s pouting in mock hurt as he leans his head forward to look in to your eyes as if you’re not being destroyed by the fast paced circling of your clit under his palm. Your eyebrows are furrowed, eyes half shut as the mind blowing orgasm looms around the corner. You’re about to cry from happiness and relief when he slips your underwear to the side, sliding his middle and index finger in without a warning and without remorse. The force with which he’s pumped his long, thick digits inside jerking back against him. Which only makes matters worse when you can feel the evidence of his own arousal pressing against your back. You’re slightly terrified from the sheer bulk of his erection too because it sits hot and heavy behind you. You just know he isn’t the average size you’re used to and that excite and scares you at the same time.

“Would you listen to that? Your cunt is singing for me babe.” You’d smack him across his chest for being so dramatic and cheesy but the sounds of your excessive wetness just has you hiding your face in his neck. But Taehyung is having none of it when he’s harshly tugging back your head as he weaves his hand in your hair.

“I said listen. You slutty pussy is leaking for me y/n. And you pretend to not even be able to stand my existence.” His words are harsh and said from between his gritted teeth. The sounds of the inside of his palm slapping against your clit with every thrust is obscene and rude. Yet, you can’t seem to care. Only moaning loudly and in a higher pitch with every smack against your heated flesh. Arousal drips steadily around his fingers while your symphony of ‘ahs’ and ‘ohs’ continues – almost sounding like you were in pain.

His grip around your hair is harsh and his pace inside your pussy relentless. It’s like he’s angry. Angry that you’re this wet. Angry that you’re ready to cum around his fingers just like this. That makes the two of you.

“Come on baby. Cum around my fingers. I’ll need it to prep myself before I enter this pussy, hm? You’re too tight for me to just impale you on my cock right now like you want me to. Don’t you?” You’re nodding enthusiastically as your breath hitches with your orgasm ripping through you like a wildfire,

“Taehyung! Fuck I-I’m cumming. Oh god…” You’re heaving and hiccupping as his rigid fingers continue to brush against your sensitive insides until you’re jerking back with each thrust.

“There you go. Easy… easy, baby.” You’re panting like you’ve run a marathon and your neck aches from being bent that way while Taehyung had your head captive.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover as he’s turning you around to pick you up and take you back to the living room, dropping your body down on to the fuzzy carpeted floor. He makes quick work of his shirt and his pants, ridding himself of every item of clothing – not that he was wearing much – before he takes his soiled fingers and wraps them around his extremely intimidating girth. He doesn’t seem nearly as nervous as you but you still don’t stop him. “Take off your clothes for me baby. I want to see you.”

Your body is moving instantly like it was programmed to listen to Taehyung’s every command. Soon, you’re laying back down on the ground, watching him stroke his incredibly hard cock that stood rigid against his toned stomach. He looks like a wolf that’s about to devour you as his pokes out from between the corner of his lips, eyes neve wavering from your own. You’re biting your own lips and squirming on the soft carpet when he just keeps looking and makes no move.

“Spread your legs again baby. Let me see you pussy.” He hisses as soon as your legs fall open, your red, slightly swollen pussy coming in to full view as he finally kneels down to his knees, grabbing your thighs to pull you closer until you were flush against his cock. His hands gently massage the area between your thighs and pussy, needing the rosy flesh and effectively making you drip even more when he looks directly down at his hands that work your labia softly – keeping in mind how sensitive you were.

“Look at you. So puffy. So wet. So fucking beautiful.” He leans forward to look in to your eyes and you’re holding on to your breath when you finally see his face so up close for the first time this evening.

“Can I make you feel good, honey? Will you let my cock make you feel good?” There is no hesitancy in your reply because you’re fisting the soft rug besides you and arching your body in to his.

“Fuck,” it’s the first time you can hear Taehyung’s voice shake as he adjusts his hips and rubs he blunt head of his blood fattened cock against your swollen labia. “I’ve wanted you for so long, y/n. I can’t believe you’re here. Are you sure baby? Because I won’t be able to stop or go gentle once I s-start. Oh fuck.”

You can see how desperate he is for you to say yes but nonetheless, your heart still warms at his concern and even though you were slightly scared of his above average length – and girth – you were mostly excited as the anticipation had built steadily. So you give him the green light, nodding for him to continue.

He seems to be surprised too for some reason and you’re caught off gard when his mouth crashed down to your own. His kiss is ferocious and passionate, tilting his head every which way to capture every noise you make, tongue playing with your own. You’re just enjoying the out of the blue kiss until it all makes sense. Because when you break apart from the kiss to shout out your surprise, you can feel all of his hot length pressing the deepest corners inside your pussy. The kiss had been a perfect distraction and you hadn’t even felt the pain when he’d pushed in.

In fact, the slight burn that was present as he let you adjust around him was more arousing than anything. “T-Tae ungh. You’re s-so big. Oh god.”

He’s watching every facial expression you make and he doesn’t miss the almost drunk expression on your pretty face when he drags his length out slowly, only to slam back inside. Your breasts bounce with every thrust that pushes you further up the carpeted floor. It feels better than good. Better than amazing. You’d never thought you’d enjoy penetrative sex this much after having several mediocre experiences but at this moment, all you wanted to do was egg Taehyung on to go as fast as he could. So you do.

“Fuck y/n.” The seat of his lap slaps against your damp skin as he pounds his leaking cock in to you unremittingly. “You’re so t-tight. The tightest cunt I’ve ever been inside. You like it baby? Hm?”

Taehyung was definitely a dirty talker. All throughout this encounter. He hadn’t stayed quiet for longer than a minute. Always wanting to say what he was feeling, wanted to do to you or was going to do to you. And until today, you never realised how much of a sucker you were for verbal stimulation.

“Y-eh-ess. I lo-uh-ve it.” Your words bounce and hiccup out of you with the same rhythm as Taehyung’s dragging of his cock inside you. It’s like he’d grown even larger and you could cry from how good he felt inside. In fact, you were sure you probably were crying with how blurry your vision was getting.

Taehyung had fully covered your body with his own, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder now to split you open even more before he increased his pace until you felt like he was actually splitting you open.

“Tae! I’m going t-to c-cum again. Oh god.” He was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temples as his gaze never left your face. You were actually crying now; clawing at his back as you held on while he parted you open every time he pushed the entire girth of his cock until the base so that with every thrust, his balls slapped against your ass obscenely.

“Let go baby. Cum all over my cock.” He could already see the white, translucid creaminess forming around the base of his cock as it continued to slam inside you, signalling how close he himself was with his cock leaking pre-cum profusely. “Fuck, you look so delectable darling. Look at how your pussy gapes around my cock every time, hm? Your pussy was made to fit around my cock. You’re m-mine now. Made j-just for my cock.”

You could tell how close he was since he’d seemed to lost all and every filter on his mouth. Pounding in to you while you clutch on to him for deer life and finally release around his cock that shows no sign of relenting until he reaches his own release. Thankfully, he’s not too far behind as he grabs your legs for the final round, pushing his hips in to the hilt before he’s shouting out his release. You can feel the warmth of his cum explode inside the walls of your pussy, filling you up to the brim until you could feel his spunk leak around you thoroughly abused lips. Taehyung lays his head in to the crook of your neck very much like how you had at the start.

It's peacefully silent as you both catch your breath, your fingers lazily massaging his scalp without even realising. You’re finally gathering your bearings and coming to terms with the fact that you just fucked each other’s brains out when you could barely stand each other before. And you absolutely do not know how to proceed from here. Not when his cock was still inside you. Thankfully, you don’t have to worry about that decision for too long because Taehyung is pulling back his face to stare in your eyes deeply as if he’s also at a loss for words.

You search his face for any disgust or any realisation that will make him pull away from you and you don’t know why you’re this nervous and worried about his reaction. You didn’t care before so why now? Why was your heart beating so fast that you felt like it was going to come out of your mouth?

“Y/N,” Taehyung post-sex, sexy voice breaks you out of your downward spiral as he brings his hand up to caress your cheek damp from the tears earlier. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

You watch him for a few seconds before nodding slowly and that’s all the confirmation Taehyung needs before taking your lips between his once again. And just like that, he kisses you lazily, tangling his hot, sweet tongue with your own for who knows how long. You two stay just like that for a long time, kissing ecahother with so much passion that it scares you how much the thought of breaking away from his lips gives you anxiety. It seems to be the same case for Taehyung because when you break apart to breathe in much needed air, he pulls you back in – mouth open and tongue seeking your own.

Sometime during the night, he’s started to harden inside you once again and rather than breaking away, he fucks you exactly the opposite way he had earlier. This time, it’s slow, even more sensual and the space between your body is almost non-existent. By the time your phone rings and breaks you both out of the haze that had you both intoxicated in the apartment, it’s sometime around midnight. Though Taehyung doesn’t stop even for a second until he’s made you cum once again and spilled himself inside you as well.

The night had definitely taken a turn as you both talk – for once without the intention of insulting each other – and fuck. Mostly fuck actually. Turns out Taehyung made you insatiable and his eagerness and fondness for cumming inside you didn’t exactly help. After replying to Minnie and sending Marion a message of apology, you’re both dozing off on the soft floor.

_________________________________________________________________________

“Come to my art exhibition with me? I want you by my side.” He asks you in the morning, slightly breathless as he grinds his erection – seriously, how often did this boy get hard? – against your damp, soiled pussy, awaking you from your sleep.

“O-Okay.” You can only moan in reply as he takes a nipple between his lips, sucking gently as he coaxes out another orgasm from you before carrying you off to the shower.

“You’re such a horn dog.” Splashing water at his face, you’re laughing as he attacks your sides, tickling you in revenge.

“A horn dog you slept like, a thousand times with.” Your mouth is falling open in mock disbelief but he just kisses your frown away.

“It will be zero times if I see that sex painting at your show!” Taehyung is giggling at your pout and the frown that creases your brows as he kisses it away, promising you that you can burn his ‘sex painting’ before the show.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

a/n: thoughts? :ooo

#bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #hobiwonder #i hope you guys like it!!

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spellbound-banshee · 5 years

Text

Don’t Cry - Peter Parker

Request: can you write a peter parker x reader imagine where the reader has an emotionally abusive family situation where she doesn’t feel like she’s good enough and he doesn’t know until he finds out one night when dropping in her room and hearing her cry and it’s all soft and fluffy bc he comforts her? sorry for the specifics thank u!

this sounds sooooooooo cute! and don’t worry i love specifics, it really helps me write!

Summary: explained above!

Warnings: fluff, swearing, angst, mentions of abuse/violence

Pairing: Peter Parker (TH) x reader

You and your Mom had gotten into yet another screaming match in the afternoon. She would always tell you how you’re a horrible person, how you never do anything for other people, and how you treat her and everyone else like shit. Of course, none of that was true, but the fights would get to your head all too easily, and before you knew it you were sobbing in your bedroom, thinking it was. You felt so stupid when you would do this, knowing your Mom was a horrible person and treated you like you were dirt all the time. Still, she was your mother, and it stung to hear these things from a parental figure in your life.

So - as usual - you sat in your bed, crying silently into your pillow and hugging the blankets to your chest, desperately trying to get some sleep.

Peter had been on his night patrol as Spider-Man, sitting on a rooftop buildings and listening close to the police radios Karen had intercepted for him. There wasn’t much activity tonight, so he decided to swing by your house and check up on you, usually you would text him and ask how his commute was going, checking to see if he was safe. When he hadn’t gotten the text, he was a bit concerned but figured you were just busy, but he wanted to make sure you were alright.

A soft knocking at your window interrupted your pity party. You shot up immediately, wiping your eyes as you knew exactly who it was. You saw Spider-Man hanging upside down, giving you a small wave as you walked over to open your window. Normally, you would smile, but you couldn’t even muster up enough strength to give him a fake one. Once you opened the window, he took off his mask and shook his head a bit so his hair fluffed out, he knew you liked that. Still, he received no smile.

His smile dropped and his face softened as soon as he saw your glistening cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. “Hey...” He said in a soft voice, slowly flipping himself around so he was in a crouching position outside your window. “Are you okay?” His voice was so soft you could barely here it, but you shook your head ‘no’ and stepped to the side so he could come in.

He immediately took the chance and jumped in with careful feet as to not wake your drunk mother downstairs. There was a moment of awkward silence before he put his mask down and took a cautious step towards you. He could tell you’d been crying for a long time, as you sniffled and you felt another wave of tears begin to creep up on you. “What’s wrong?” And that’s when you lost it.

You practically threw yourself at him, clinging onto him like he was the last stable thing in your life, and to be honest, he was. He was quick to spring into action, wrapping his arms around your mid back and pulling you close enough to feel your heartbeat. Peter didn’t know why you were crying, he didn’t even know about your whole family situation, but nevertheless he tried to comfort you. You tried to forget everything, just letting yourself fall into Peter. His soft hair, the rough-ish material of his Spider-Man suit, his cheap cologne and though you couldn’t see them, you could tell his brows were furrowed in concerned confusion.

Once the storm had passed and your sobs had been reduced to soft whimpers, Peter had wrapped a blanket around you and wiped your sticky cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay.” He whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head and giving you a soft smile. “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

So you exploded. You explained everything, the abuse mostly, but the stress of worrying about him also contributed to your breakdown. He listened and nodded his head to make sure you knew he was engaged, squeezing your hand gently when you talked about something particularly harsh. He felt horrible, especially because he didn’t know this had been going on, he just wanted to be there for you. Peter didn’t know what to say, you two just sat there in silence, waiting for the other person to make a move.

“I-I’m so sorry...” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, his tight suit being the least of his problems at this point. “(Y/n)... we need to get you out of this house.” He said, always immediately trying to find solutions to problems rather than letting them play out. When you didn’t say anything, he took both of your hands in his and looked right into your eyes. “I’m serious. You can’t stay here, your mother is a horrible person and doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you. You’re also a minor, and if we call the right people we can get you to stay somewhere else.” You nodded, too tired to agree or disagree, but you knew you had to seriously consider the option.

Aunt May was always happy to have you in their home, and especially with this kind of situation, you would be welcomed with open arms. You knew that, but the thought of leaving everything you knew scared you, but you weren’t happy where you were. “Okay...” You whispered, your voice weak and small; Peter immediately knew that you shouldn’t be making decisions when you’re in this state.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We can stay here if you want, watch some TV and I can stay with you, whatever you want.” You nodded, looking down at your hands as his thumbs stroked along the back of your palms.

“I-I don’t feel safe here... can I just stay with you for one night?”

Peter didn’t waste time in swinging you home, but he was careful not to go too fast to not overwhelm you. You kind of enjoyed the easy swing, especially since you only lived a couple of blocks from him, so it was nice and short. May was sleeping by the time he opened his window and put you inside, smiling a bit as he took his mask off once more and placed it in the laundry basket. Without much thought, Peter pressed the spider in the middle of his suit, letting his suit fall to the floor. Your eyes widened a bit, and he turned around with a light blush on his cheek. “Sorry, shit. Force of habit.” He quickly ran to cover himself with a pajama shirt he found on the floor.

You smiled slightly and nodded, noticing he was still in his boxers and with that realization you blushed and turned around, giving him his privacy. Peter smiled sheepishly and put some pants on, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

After you got comfortable, wearing a pair of his boxers and one of his hoodies, you yawned and lied down on his bed, immediately sinking into the mattress. When Peter smiled down at you, you couldn’t help but smile back up at him, moving to the side to allow him to snuggle next to you. “Thank you.” You whispered, pressing your back against his chest and feeling the warmth spread throughout you.

“Of course, (Y/n).” He whispered back, placing a hesitant hand on your waist before pulling you closer to him. “Anytime. And again, I’m really sorry-”

“It’s okay, I don’t really want to think about it anymore...” He nodded understandably and tried to pull you even closer, wanting nothing more to protect you for the rest of his life. You smiled slightly, almost reading his mind and you placed your hand over his.

For the first time, you slept soundly. Not wracked with anxiety, not with tears staining your pillow, but in Peter Parker’s arms; warm, soothing and... safe. You felt safer than you ever had. You could get used to this.

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satoruvt · 5 years

Note

Hello! Firstly, I want to say I love your writing, keep up the amazing work 💚💜 Secondly!! Can I please request hc with Todo, Baku and Izuku with a s/o that got kidnapped by the League. Could be at night or during an attack? Sorry if the request is too vague or too much to do, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to! (I’m hoping you haven’t done this but I don’t think you have, hoping it doesn’t go against any rules too😅 If it does I’m sorry...) Have a good day/evening/night! Thanks!💚💜

this ask made me think that i should make a post abt which characters i write for n stuff slhsks but ur perfectly fine!!

todoroki

will try at first to act on his own to find you, but eventually someone (probably like iida or uraraka) would talk him out of it

wants to be involved in everything regarding ur whereabouts

might even go so far as to ask his father to help him if things arent going as fast as his liking

spends a lot of nights in ur room while ur gone. doesnt move anything around, but he’ll sit on your bed, maybe read some notes of yours to remember ur handwriting

when he gets you back.... fuck

hugs you so tight. soso tight. will hold ur hand all the time for like a week after u get back

if you have any form of ptsd from the league he will comfort you and always be there (and, in his mind, he’s punching the shit out of shigaraki’s gross face)

bakugou

will 100% try to do something without help

probably has an entire plan and is leaving the dorms but runs into kirishima lmao

kiri’s like “look i know you care, but it isnt smart” and because he’s kiri bakugou’s like “fuck ur right”

having been kidnapped before, he kind of has an idea about what might be happening

knows that ur strong and can withstand the league, but hopes to god nothing bad happens

does his own research about u and where u might be

like todoroki, will spend some time in ur room

cries. no one knows, no one WILL know, but he cries.

he couldn’t protect you, the ONE person who matters the most to him... and you could be hurting

when the time finally comes that you are back and safe he honestly can’t breathe

pulls you into his arms and refuses to let you go

“katsuki, you’re squeezing...” “shut up. you’re so dumb.”

wont tell u how worried he was n how much he missed u....... but he might Show u ;)

for a little while after u get back he’ll stay awake and watch over you just in case something happens again

midoriya

blames himself so hard

“i need to save them. right now. i need to go.”

cant even look at the door to ur room

trusts in the teachers and pro heroes but knows that they can only do so much

will try to go off on his own like when katsuki was taken

doesnt end up doing it (he kinda learned from last time) but will help the pros as much as they’ll let him

“look, th-they were spotted over here, and-and shigaraki was seen there-“ “midoriya. it’s three in the morning. you need to rest.”

when he finally gets you back?

he collapses

like he sees you and you see him and his knees just give out

you hold each other on the ground like that, both of you crying into each other

“i was so scared. i’m so glad you’re okay.” through tears and a soft smile

spends all of his time with you afterwords, physically clings to u

some nights when yall stay up later he’ll end up talking about it, but he doesnt that much because its not a Good Time

uses it for motivation and training!!! so he can become stronger and protect u!!!

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #izuku midoriya x reader

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friendlylocalwriter · 5 years

Text

thank u, next pt. 2

Pairing(s):Timothee Chalamet x fem!reader

Warnings: angst (i love pain what can i say), kind of fluffy? (my idea of fluff is just softer angst fmknfsknfns)

Word Count: 2,043

author’s note: ok im ACTUALLY back this time LMAO. yall wanted, so yall shall receive. enjoy :-)

p.s. it’s not essential to read part 1 before reading this as i wrote it as a stand alone, but if you want a little more context check out pt. 1! :)

It was early on a cold Sunday morning, and I had just stopped into my local cafe for some much-needed caffeine. I stuffed my frozen fingers into my coat pocket and rushed inside to escape the chilling New York air, and was immediately bombarded with the bustling sounds of the shop.

“The usual?”

I was pulled out of my thoughts and looked up to see the barista smiling widely at me, already plugging in numbers.

“Yes, Vivian, thanks,” I said softly, fishing out a crumpled ten dollar bill from my pocket. She handed me my change with a bright “Coming right up!”, and a few minutes later I was standing with a bagel and a coffee in my hands, wondering where to eat.

I ended up deciding on the second-floor seating- the designated study area. It comprised mostly of adults typing away furiously on laptops, quickly downing shots of espresso and periodically letting out exasperated sighs. I sat down at a little table in the back and took a bite of my bagel, people-watching. My eyes laid on two teenagers in the corner seated on a little beanbag chair. The boy’s fluffy hair meshed with the short pixie cut of the girl he was laying beside, both nose deep in a book. The girl pointed at something in the thick novel, and the boy nodded, quickly jotting down something in a journal. Curious, I inch towards them to see if I could get a glimpse at the title, and my body freezes when I read it. “The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe.”

TWO YEARS PRIOR

“’ The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe? Could you get any more pretentious?”

Timothee let out a hearty laugh as he settled into his chair and brushed his brown locks away from his face., He watched Y/N thumb through the stacks of books arranged haphazardly in his bedroom, lingering on those she found interesting. His eyes trailed down her body, settling on her dirty, doodled-on Converse.

“Sick shoes,” he chortled, feigning surprise when she flipped him off.

It was only the second time Timothee and Y/N hung out, and Timothee impulsively asked if she wanted to come over after they spent hours walking around the NYC streets, talking about everything and nothing. He realized how much it sounded like he just wanted to bang her, but (although he did want to do that eventually) he genuinely just ached to spend more time with her. She was funny and blunt and made random weird jokes and just made Tim feel warm and fuzzy all over.

“Huh. Never really pegged you as a self-help book kinda guy,” she muttered, so quietly that Timothee almost couldn’t hear her. But he did.

“Well, what kind of guy do you peg me as?”, he asked, leaning forward in his chair with a grin on his face. Y/N turned around, rolling her eyes when she saw that shit-eating smirk.

“The kind who probably asks every girl he likes to come over to his apartment so they can ‘talk about books.’“ she says with air quotes, walking towards him. Timothee rolled his eyes as she stationed himself in front of him, her legs pressed together in between his spread ones. He said nothing, lightly grazing his hand on the fabric of her jeans.

Y/N looked down at him and instinctively started running her hands through his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp. He looked up at her with a confused yet entertained look on his face.

“I can’t help it, I like your hair” Y/N giggled, letting her hands sit at the back of his neck.

“Well, I like you,” Timothee said, moving his hands from his jeans to her hand, gently interlocking their fingers. Y/N said nothing for a couple of moments and Timothee looked up at her, nervous.

“Shit, that might’ve been too soon, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Timothee’s words were cut off by Y/N pressing her lips against his.

PRESENT TIME

“Hey, lady, your phone is ringing,”

I shook my head and realized that my phone was, indeed, ringing at full volume and every person within a 5-foot vicinity was giving me the death glare. I scrambled to stuff my bagel in my purse and let out a rushed “Sorry!” as I grabbed my coffee and sped down the stairs and out of the cafe. Once I was outside, I let myself rest on the window and looked to see who was calling.

‘An unknown number. Weird,’ I thought. ‘I’m pretty sure I blocked all those telemarketers.’

I answer the phone call with a short “Who’s this?”

The line is silent for a few seconds until I hear something I thought I would never hear again.

“Hey, Y/N it-it’s me, Timothee.”

My breath hitched and soared back into my body. Everything came running forward- the late night talks, getting McDonald’s at 4 A.M, the kisses, the hugs, the night he left.

Left. He left me.

“What the hell do you want?” I spat. Silence fell again, and I shifted against the cafe window, ready to hang up the phone. Then, I heard a deep sigh through the phone and something I didn’t expect- crying.

“Please, can we talk in person. I ... need to see you,” he choked out. I shut my eyes hard, feeling tears welling beneath my eyelids. No matter what, him crying always made me cry. Always.

I wasn’t going to crack, though.

“I don’t deserve this, Tim,” I laughed with no humor. “I just started to get used to having a life again, and you just call me out of nowhere asking to see me? You ruined me, T. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

“Of course you don’t, that’s not what I meant, I-I’m sorry this was stupid. Sorry, sorry,” he rushed out with a quiet voice and the phone call disconnected. I let my head hang and a shuddered breath left my mouth, trying to wrap my head around what happened in the last minute.

I knew I didn’t deserve this, so I deleted his number and went on with my life. I found another boy who cherished me, respected me, and loved me. I had kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. I had peace.

I wish that were the truth.

3 DAYS LATER

Paul Anka’s “Put Your Head on Your Shoulder” was the first thing I heard when I pushed open the double doors to my local diner. The 50s-themed restaurant was a favorite of mine, and the food was to die for. I glanced over at the modern-style jukebox to get a glimpse of the time.

2:14 A.M. Jesus.

The diner was empty, and the bored teen behind the counter looked at me with lazy eyes when I approached him.

“Table for two, please,” I asked kindly, giving him a small smile.

“You with the weirdo?” he questioned unenthusiastically, pointing over to a booth in the corner. I turned, confused, to see Timothee hunched over a cup of coffee. I felt my pulse quicken when he looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine.

“Yeah, sadly. Thanks,” I mumbled, dragging my feet as I trudged over to the booth. I took in a sharp breath when I saw Timothee up close.

His eyes were bloodshot red, dark circles prominent coating his undereye area. His face was sunken and his cheekbones were a lot more prevalent than I remembered. His billowy shirt barely hung on his frame, his collarbones peeking out from the top. I cringed; he looked so unhealthy and broken that I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. I settled into my side of the booth and kept my eyes on my hands in my lap.

“I know I look a little rough around the edges,” he muttered, a bashful tone to his voice.

“Well, little isn’t exactly the word I would use,” I joked, not being able to stop myself. Timothee looked up at me and laughed, his hair bouncing along with him. I chuckled along, looking him in the eyes. I’m not sure how many moments passed where we were just gazed at each other, taking it all in.

“Are you guys ready to order, or...,” the teen from before came up to our table with his hands crossed over his chest and an annoyed look on his face.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll take a slice of cherry pie and a root beer,” I said, glancing at Timothee from above the menu to prompt him to order.

“I’ll just take another coffee.”

“Don’t know why’d you come to a diner just for coffee but whatever,” the teen said before snatching our menus and walking away. Timothee shook his head and I couldn’t help but snort at the kid’s actions.

“He’s probably pissed that we are coming in to eat at two in the morning,” Timothee hypothesized. I hummed in agreement, the smile on my face falling when I remembered the situation I was in.

An awkward silence took over the booth and I focused my eyes on anything except for the curly haired boy in front of me.

“Look, Y/N, I know this is kind of shitty for me to ask you out to eat and bring up all these bad memories but I just needed to talk to you. I’m not even asking for forgiveness, or for us to get back together, I just,” his voice trailed off and I peeked at him, his head low and his lips pursed together.

“I feel like shit. Like, absolute shit for what I did to you. Not only did I make the biggest mistake of my life, but I was a huge dick about it. I’m sure nothing I say can ever make it better, but I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry,” he cried, pushing his hair back and violently shaking.

“Christ, Tim, relax, you’re gonna make yourself sick breathing like that,” I hesitantly placed my hand on his face, making him look at me.

“Breathe, T. Breathe”

Timothee closed his eyes as he focused on taking in healthy amounts of air. I moved my hand to take it off of his face and he quickly reached up to put his hand on top of mine, leaving it on his damp cheek.

“Timothee-”

“I love you, Y/N. With everything I have, every bone in my body,”

“Then why did you cheat on me?”

I think he was shocked I actually brought it up and said those words out loud. I jerked my hand back and put it back in my lap.

“Hmm? That’s why we are here, remember?” I sneered.

He took a big breath and his head bobbed against the back of the booth as he leaned back.

“Honestly? I have no fucking clue. You had all these great opportunities at university and you were out so much and I felt so... neglected, I guess?”

“So, it’s my fault. Incredible,” I scoffed, grabbing my purse.

“No, no, no, of course not, wait- don’t go yet. Please” he scrambled to grab my hand.

I yanked it back and stood up.

“It was good to see you, Timothee. But I never need to again,” I tried to get out the sentence without crying, but I choked on the last word.

“Please, remember when you said we can fix this? I need us, I need you. I can’t live without you,” he begged, tears flowing down his face. I closed my eyes and exhaled quietly in an effort to catch my breath. In a few quick moves, I pressed my lips against Timothee’s temple, then dug fifteen dollars out of my purse and threw it on the table.

“That should cover the food. Goodbye, Tim,”

My name left Timothee’s mouth multiple times with increasing despair as I turned my back to him, making a beeline for the store.

“The food’s about to be ready, dude,” the teen behind the counter said as I had the handle on the door. “You can’t wait a couple minutes?”

“Give it to the weirdo for me, please,” I said over my shoulder as I walked into the night, not knowing that would be the last time I’d ever see Timothee.

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