#and for the record yes me and my sister really did make our mom help us with z&w | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dylansslutt · 2 years

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blossom/ h.s

i dont own the gif!!!

i do however own my writings and all content i create, because my mind never turns off so these our my thoughts. i am not one to condone underage minor sexual stuff predo whatever, however there is a age gap.

people are of age obvi

warnings: mentions of; drugs, alc, smut

summary: you were niall’s younger sister, starting off fresh into the acting agency. being around the boy’s lead to the crush of one of them, what happens a few years later when you two gain some sort of “friendship.”

growing up under the influence of your highly famous older brother, who was more glorified than you thought was necessary. it led to some really cool stuff as well, getting out of your small town, traveling to places never thought imaginable.

now you were 21, finally settling in a nice flat in california. niall got the voice, yours could hold a tune but nothing special, of sorts. yet, acting was something you loved and dreamed of since childhood.

you tried very hard to make sure you made your own way, not using your brother to boost anything. yet, he did help get you out into this type of world.

sitting on your bed, your laptop in front of you with the new script you received from your agent. harry’s new album softly playing in the back, smiling softly to yourself.

harry was always someone you were close with, invited to his family gatherings on occasion, texting or calls when can. even though he was 5 years older than you, your mind couldn’t help but fantasize about him... like every other girl.

you kept it strict though, always allowing him to just be the “other older brother.” your phone distracts you from your thoughts, seeing the one person you just had on mind.

“y/n/n!” harry beams through the phone, you prop your phone up giggling. “hairball, ‘ello!”

he frowns at his current nickname, but quickly pulls the phone closer. “is that my album?” you nod sheepishly, forgetting about the record playing in the background.

“it’s really good, harry! i’m so proud of ya’.” the compliment was sincere, you both being a great support system. you adjust your cropped hoodie as he smiles brightly, muttering a small thank you.

“i was told you would be attending the met gala this year.” you couldn’t help but let out the squeal of excitement. instantly grabbing your phone, pulling it closer. “never once, would i think i’d be invited. my manager said that a high fashion designer even wants to dress me on that event!”

he laughs at your excitement, “i told ya’ darlin’, good things would come. ya’ been workin’ ya’ ass off.” setting the phone back down, you stare back at his reflection.

“wait, who told ya’?” he rolls his eyes, “make me give my secrets, huh?”

“i got the list secretly, i like to know whom i’m to be seated with; and your name was there but not as niall’s guest.”

you laugh at that, “yes, i get to bring me own guest.” your dog jumps up on the bed, coming right onto your lap. “oh well sansa wants to say, ‘ello.”

she was all in the way of the camera, you shooing her to lay down beside you. “well, do you have a date?” his question was simple, but your eyes widen a bit. you haven’t thought much, maybe bring your friend or whatever. mom wasn’t one for all the camera’s.

“not quite, do you?” licking your lips, you pull the phone closer. harry was on the couch, lazy stubble and a white tee on. “nope, gemma couldn’t.” you frown at that, you and his sister were besties for sure.

“aw i’d rather her than you.” the joke was sarcastic but he faked a sarcastic laugh, “ooo fiesty today.”

“always am, did ya’ expect less?” the tease was building a tension you didn’t quite know why, but you squeeze your legs tight as his dimples show.

“no, never with ya’.” he clears his throat, looking a bit more serious. “would ya’ wanna go with me? not like that of course, tabloids and stuff...”

before he could continue a ramble to come, you quickly agree. “of course, it be nice, ya’ know. instead of being alone or with someone i don’t really want.”

both of you staring at your screens, happy with the agreement. “well, i got to get these lines down... but text me your clothing style so we can arrange something of sorts to match.”

he scoffs, “ya’ and this always matching.” you roll your eyes, “hush, because ya’ know ya’ll end up doin’ it.” you pet sansa’s head which rested calmly on your lap.

“whateva’, talk to ya’ soon, darlin’.” you smile softly at the nickname.

“bye harold.” and with that you hung up, not even bothering with the lines. more so freaking out at the fact that your date to the event is now your brothers ex band mate...

“what the hell just happened?” you glance at sansa, who just wags her tail.

a few weeks have passed, you and harry’s text becoming a daily thing. yet the energy was different, he was more open, more flirty?

you couldn’t tell if he was actually flirting, but it was more nicknames, phone calls goodnight, goodmorning text, planning. everything making you long for the older boy even more.

the met gala was in just a few days, harry was back in la, as well as you just got finished shooting a modeling gig. the time was around 6 in the evening, when you arrived home. sansa was at your best friend’s, dog sitting the baby since you have a busy few days.

setting the few bottles of alcohol you stopped and grabbed, onto the counter along with your bag and coat. “alexa, play my chill playlist.” you call out to the scary robot, instantly the tunes of bob marley fill the room.

walking into your bedroom, ridding yourself of the clothes and into more comfortable lounge wear. a phone call interrupted the music. shuffling back towards the kitchen, snooping through to find your phone.

quickly answering, you set it down on speaker. “hi!” you call out not looking at you even phoned you. “well ‘ello.” harry’s voice calls out making you stop your motion.

“well ‘ello, harold. what do i owe the pleasure of your calling?” you walk closer, picking the phone up. “im actually outside your door.”

almost dropping your phone, you shake your head. “wh-no fuckin’-are ya-” the knock comes from your door aswell from the phone. hanging up and setting your phone down, you rush to unlock the door.

the six foot something man stood infront of your smaller frame, eyes widen in surprise. “what the hell!” jumping up and wrapping your arms around his neck. his hands scoop around your thighs.

a feeling rushes through you as he walks in, spinning you around softly. his grip tightens before setting you down back on your feet. “i didn’t know you were on this side of town?”

he laughs softly, “i wasn’t but i wanted to see my favorite girl, before being in front of hundreds of people.” you smile at that turning towards the bought alcohol.

“well, ya’ arrived on time. i just bought some drinks.” glancing back you notice his eyes on you, and where they were placed. right on your ass, since you didn’t realize you were gonna have company the shorts were your cute short short ones.

“like old times, we can catch up and drink.” you shake your head, “not like last time though, i ended up sick as a dog!” he chuckles at the memory, heading into your apartment more.

“i like it, it fits you.” he observes as you pour you both a glass of wine first. walking closer to him, you hand him the drinks. “thank ya’, the remotes are there. i’ll grab the blankets.”

he gets situated on the couch, turning the tv on instantly going onto netflix. you open the cabinet under the tv, bending over slightly to pull out the biggest blanket for you two to share. his eyes bore onto you as you struggle with the material.

standing up, glancing at his selection and seeing he chose a scary movie. “ooo finally.” you throw the blanket on him before settling beside him. “i remembered it was my turn last time.” he mumbles as he hands over your cup.

you hum at that, taking a sip of the wine. “i thought ya’ would forget, bein’ busy and all.” shuffling the pillow a little, allowing yourself to rest against harry. legs now drape across his. “

“never.” he pulls you closer.

“i’ve missed ya’.” you mumble out before glancing up at him, his eyes already on yours.

“i know... it feels so different from not seeing ya’ all the time.” you nod in agreement before taking a few more sips.

“life has definitely been different for sure...” not even wanting to get into everything. “i never said anything about it, but you were too good for him.” he mentions your ex, timothy chamalet, which ended way over 5 months ago.

you roll your eyes, “it’s fine, trust me harry. i realize right now, im probably gonna be single for awhile, but thats okay.” the movie starts and you focus your attention back on the tv.

harry leaves it be and downs his wine, as you finish yours. “lift up, i’ll grab us another one.” you obey moving your legs and handing over your empty glass. your fingertips graze each other, eyes locking together until you clear your throat.

“thank you.”

“of course.”

settling down beside you the movie started getting more interested, but you couldn’t get the distraction of his warmth beside you, out your head. and of course now there was a relationship scene.

clearing your throat softly, taking another sip and lift up. harry’s eyes catch yours confused, “i haven’t ate much today, wanna share a pizza?”

“yea, sounds great.” leaving his embrace, you turn the oven on allowing it to pre-heat. finishing your wine, you turn and notice the first bottle was empty. a warm feeling rose through your cheeks from the alcohol, opening the second bottle.

not noticing harry was now behind you, you jump at the cup set down beside you. “oh gosh.” you giggle hand close to your chest, his deep chuckle matching yours.

grabbing the bottle you pour you both another glass, “ya’ might as well stay the night. its getting later and i don’t want ya’ to drive super late.” he grabs his cup as you turn leaning back against the counter.

him infront of you, “i already figured i would.” smiling at his response still settled between him, his eyes staring down at you. you could’ve sworn he flickered his gaze towards your lips, but you shake the thought. he takes a gulp of the wine before setting it back down.

“my dress will be in tomorrow, i have a fitting in it later. which reminds me i need to text her” you update him on the outfit, rambling on was something he was use too. him only humming in response, staring at you as you take another sip of your wine.

“you’ll look beautiful, either way.”

his hand reaches upwards, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. eyes connecting with each other. “well thank ya’.” not exactly knowing what to do, since his hand never drops from your face.

in a stand still, he suddenly moves closer. lips inches from each other, his thumb caressing your cheek. sliding down to toy with your bottom lip.

“y/n...” he says my name as almost a warning, his voice holding a edge i’ve never heard. the ding of the oven, pulls us away from the most intimate moment between you two.

“i gotta put the pizza in.” the words were soft, maneuvering from underneath him. you pull the pizza out the box, uncovering the wrapper. feeling eyes on the back of your head, made you fumble nervously with the plastic.

shoving it quickly in the oven, and turning the timer on. you now face the man that was running through your head. his expression undetectable, only tyhe wander of his eyes.

“harry, i-” you try to come up with something to say, to ease the anxiousness inside you. “i have a question.”

the statement threw you off guard, furrowing your eyebrows as he continues. “have you ever thought about us?”

the swore your eyes almost fell out your head, already feeling the warmth on your cheeks. moving forward, grasping the cup, swallowing half the glass before giving a response.

“what do ya’ mean us?” nice, smooth play. you were staring at the man in front of you, trying so hard not to be desperate and just jump his bones. he rolls his eyes, “don’t play dumb now.”

grabbing the bottle, glass still in hand, you make way back over to the couch. “no idea what ya’ talkin’ about.”

the words were spoken over your shoulder, deciding if he was going to ask such questions... he shall make the first move. you lean over more than needed, guiding your shorts up some as the bottle sets on the coffee table.

standing up and glancing over at him, he was fidgeting. “fuck it.” the words left his lips and he advances forward; not expecting his hands around your face.

both your lips smash together, you gasping in shock allows his tongue to enter your mouth. one hand slides down to your throat, holding it lightly in a teasing manner.

your hands run up his chest landing onto his shoulders, his hands leave your face grasping underneath your thighs. laying you down carefully onto the couch, he pulls away.

eyes wild, matching each others energy, you decide to take your shirt off. leaving your pierced nipples exposed. his gaze darkens at the sight of them, licking his lips lustfully.

throwing his shirt off, he leans down cupping your left tit in his hand. before latching onto your right nipple, flicking and sucking on it. your hands fly into his hair, a soft gasp escapes your lips.

his free hand moves your legs open, allowing himself properly inbetween you. moving it back to hold himself up, he switches nipples making you moan softly. he pulls away slowly, eyes boring into yours.

“i wanna taste ya’, darlin’.” he mutters against your skin, slowly making way back up to your lips. his other hand now cupping your cunt, leaving you to clench your legs around his waist.

he pulls his hand away, thrusting his bulge against your heat. eyes watching every reaction. “so pretty.” he captures your lips again, hands going around your waist lifting you slightly.

a giggle escapes you as he pulls your panties down, leaving harry to stare a little confused. “what?”

“yes, i’ve thought about us.” you finally confess, leaving him to spank you softly. the feeling felt like something you never felt before, you moving up a little. “harry.”

he hums as his eyes bore into your core, as if it was the first time he’s ever seen a girl naked. “i need ya’ to touch me.” the whining sound that left your lips, gave harry no second thought.

he pulls you close to his face, him laying flatter on the couch. tongue pressed flat against your clit, sucking and swirling softly. the moans litter the room, your hands back in his hair tugging softly.

“fu-fuck.”

he grips your waist, squeezing tightly as he moves up his pace. his left arm flattens against your stomach, holding you in place as a finger enters you. your free hand goes against your lips, hips bulking up against his grip.

“oh fuck, harry.” you moan at the feeling of his second finger slide into you. his lips leave your folds, “ya’ taste so fucking good.”

you could’ve came right there, but it was quicker than expected when his tongue was relentless against you. his fingers hitting a spot that was perfect, your legs began to shake.

“ha-harry im-” the loudest, most pornographic moan that you never thought you could make escapes your lips.

harry’s grip on your thighs tighten even more as you feel your wetness drip down onto the couch. hand flying to your mouth, then clenching the bundle of the blankets beside you.

breathless and in bliss, you let out a breathe as harry licks you up after you calm down some. wiping your face, he kisses your thighs. alternating between the two. moving upwards leaving trail of kisses before stopping right in front of you.

his hair was a mess and he looks so good, above you glowing in a small gleam. he smiles down at you, giggling up at him he kisses your forehead. “what?”

you shook your head, only allowing yourself to stay in this moment for a second. “so much for a long time no see.” his dimples pop as he laughs, sitting upwards more slightly.

“hey, watchin’ ya’ cum on my face. that’s a good long time no see present.” the words made your face heat up, moving to grab your shirt throwing it on. harry eyes follow you making you push him softly.

“why are you starin’ mister.” you lean over him slightly grabbing your shorts and underwear. he just smirks shaking his head, you roll your eyes in a joking manner.

“imma’ go to the loo.” he nods as you walk off towards your bathroom, knowing you needed to pee after being eaten out. also it gives you a second to digest how the fuck this all seem to go down.

your shorts were balled up in your hands as you walk bare, turning back to catch his eyes focused on your behind. turning you flick the switch, your reflection showing how dishevel you look.

you grab your hair brush, calming the frizzy mess; as well as applying some lip balm to your swollen lips. glancing at your reflection, you internally scream.

you’ll be in public view soon with a man who has just made you cum, from his mouth. now he is acting all weird as well, like he might like me.

there’s no way that’s not possible. shutting the light off along with the thought that you knew was not true. making way back into the living area, harry has the movie back on at the part we last actually can recall.

the pizza dings, making me beam. i turn to get the pizza but harry calls me out, “stop, sit down and relax. i’ll grab it out.”

your eyes widen at the sudden nice gesture, neverless you thank him and get comfortable again on the couch. leaning forward grabbing the cup, the touch of the cup on your lips made you shiver.

your eyes glance over at harry and you knew it, your crush was becoming more. it didn’t matter if you got hurt, you wanted him in a way you thought never possible.

he holds two plates as he makes way back over, “here ya’ are my lady.” the plate held a few delicious slices. “thank ya, my lord.”

a small smile breaks way on both your faces, as you throw your legs over his getting comfortable. the plate rested on your lap as you press play on the remote.

halfway through eating your pizza, a clicking sound from a phone comes from my side. my head jerking towards harry who just busts out laughing at the photo.

“harry.” you whine, snatching the phone to look. “you can not show anyone that, i look horrible!” it wasn’t horrible but not the best.

“okay okay, but im not deleting it. you’re too cute.” the comment made you take another bite, trying to cover up the remark you would’ve made.

after finishing the pizza and wine, the movie was finished leaving the two of you yawning. you stood in the kitchen making yourself a water bottle, turning to sleepy harry.

“ill make ya’ some water and bring you a aspirin just in case, if ya’ wanna go lay down.” you knew the poor boy was exhausted. he throws you a tired smile before shuffling to your room, as you grab an extra bottle for him to use.

taking your aspirin right away, you put an extra one in your hand. flicking the kitchen light off, you head into your bedroom seeing harry laying there half sleep.

“here take this.” you climb into bed, placing the pill in his hand as you give him his water. setting your water on your end table, you plug your phone up and look back over seeing harry’s eyes on you.

“cuddle me.” he pulls you down, a gasp escapes you along with a small giggle. his arm was underneath your head along with his other around your waist. you felt snug and tight, you press yourself more into him.

“night h’.” you mutter softly, he kisses the top of your head gently. “night darlin’.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff

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metamorphosisff · 1 year

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|Eight| Windows to the Soul

My father is drinking a Corona when I enter the backyard after picking Ariana up from dance practice. Saturday’s are when he gets things done around the house. The lawn mower is still out by the garage as I take a seat by him. He nods his head towards the cooler and I nod my head. Soon a cool bottle is passed my way and I use the beer opener on my keychain to crack it open. We drink side by side in silence for a few moments as we each try to figure out what to say to each other. Like his father, my Pops headed to the military straight after high school. They share the same stoic demeanor except Granddad is a bit more personable. My father is a leader, true and thorough leader. If he isn’t giving directives then he seldom has anything to say unless he is in a big group of people. With us, he’s laid back, allowing us to say what was on our minds when we were ready versus prying it out of us like mom does. So it doesn’t take long for me to strike up a conversation.

“Is having a family something you always knew you wanted?” I asked, causing him to chuckle.

“I can always count on you to keep me on my toes boy I tell you,” he says, using a washcloth to dab at his brow. “But to answer you, to some extent yes. You tryna tell me something?”

Catching his meaning, I cough, and damn near choke on my beer as I shake my head. “No sir, I was just wondering.”

“You always just wondering,” Pops says with a chuckle. “Most curious child on this side of creation.”

“Can’t help it,” I grin, taking another swig from my beer.

For as long as I could remember, I had questioned everything, and for the most part my parents always answered my questions to the best of their abilities. Whenever they did not know something, they encouraged me to research the answer on my own. I was crafting a lecture about learned behaviors and wondered if creating a family was something people all learned to want or something we actually desired.

“Working out some learned behavior scenarios for my class. Thought I’d test one out on you.”

“Sounded like it was connected to some type of bigger message. You really like being a teacher huh?” Pops stated more than asked.

Some part of him always hoped I would join the army but those hopes were dashed once I got a record. To be honest, military life never appealed to me anyway. If I joined, I would have never been fulfilled, and living up to his reputation would have eventually proven to be too much pressure.

“I do,” I replied, taking another swig. “Crafting young minds and helping others with one career is pretty much all I could ever ask for.”

“Which is what I respect about you X, you stick to your guns, for better or worse,” Pops said with a head nod. “Now that sister of yours…rides the wind.”

“She’s a teenager, it’s what they do, it’s what I did,” I chuckled.

He grunted in response and I grinned as I stood to my feet. My sister had been working my parents’ nerves lately with her attitude. I was supposed to give her a talk when I picked her up but I figured she’d been lectured enough. Their talks never worked when I was her age. It was better to level with her by reminding her the better she behaved, the more freedom they would give her. She promised she would try and that was good for me.

“I have to head out of here. Got plans this afternoon,” I said, before finishing off what was left of the beer.

“What’s her name?” Pops asked, raising a brow. At this moment, it’s like I’m looking into a mirror because we share the same face but seldom the same expressions.

“What makes you think I’m meeting a girl?” I replied, walking over to the blue recycle bin not too far away.

“Cause you wearing cologne and you got a haircut,” Pops noted. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t lived at home for almost ten years, he still had me pegged.

“I can’t look nice?” I laughed.

“I ain’t asking that, I asked about who you looking nice for,” Pops said.

“Myself.”

“Bullshit.”

“Bye Pops,” I chuckled.

“See ya son,” he said with an amused shake of his head. “Whoever she is, I hope to meet her one day.”

I nodded my head before giving him one last wave. Jamila wasn’t a secret but our friendship meant a lot to me. I didn’t want to let any outside voices or influences, providing unnecessary commentary or advice. It was still new, the foundation not yet dry but molded with potential which meant it was susceptible to damage if I were not careful.

The sun is beaming as I wait on the corner of Fulton street, facing outward as I look for Jamila who texted that she had just got off of the three train, and was headed my way. My hands are tucked into my cargo shorts as I scan faces. Not even a full minute passes before she comes into view. Braids are piled onto the top of her head in a cute messy bun, she wears a printed short sleeved midi dress that has a cool design of tigers against an olive backdrop, and a yellow pair of Converses. On her shoulder is a tan tote bag that has an image of a hand positioned with the middle finger up in front of a pair of red painted lips. The sight of it and her make me smile as she approaches. This time I don’t have to ask for a hug as she slides her arms around my frame briefly in greeting.

“‘Sup Mila,” I said, giving her a quick squeeze before she slipped out of my embrace.

“Nothing much, sorry for the delay, Papi was following me and was about to get on the train too,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

“I wouldn’t have minded,” I chuckle as we fall into step. We don’t have to walk far, where I want to go first is only a few steps away.

“Trust me you would have. I had to promise to bring him something back to get him to keep his little ass above ground,” she huffed, as I opened the door to Midtown comics.

“What is he into?” I asked, as lead us to the new release wall. There was a new The Batman compilation volume out that I wanted to get my hands on.

“He said verbatim ‘something with Spiderman or X-Men will suffice’,” she says, causing me to laugh.

“The kid has taste. I’ll get him one of the series books so he’s not left hanging about what happens,” I said.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that. He’ll get a single comic and be merry trust me,” she said, eyes flickering to mine from the display.

Stepping closer to her I say, “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. Thought we got that understood the other night?”

She rolls her eyes causing me to laugh again knowing that I’m messing with her. “For real though, it’s not a big deal, so you're going to let me do this.”

“Fine,” she says fighting a grin. “What did we come in here for anyway?”

“This,” I say as I make a beeline for the cover I had been looking at since its announcement. I didn’t get to read much for fun anymore but I tried to make room for some light reading. Plucking it up, I pass her the volume which has some weight to it.

“Batman. I pegged you for more of a Captain America type but color me surprised,” she says, as she flips the volume over to read the back.

“You’re only saying that because I told you to watch the show,” I said.

“Perhaps, either way it’s true but this looks good, seems interesting,” she says as she passes it back to me. “Looking forward to you telling me all about it.” There’s a small smile on her lips but she heads down another aisle before I can fully appreciate it. I follow behind her wearing one of my own.

We aren’t in Midtown long, only a half hour as we browse for Papi, and I give brief synopsis of storylines until we find what we both think he’ll like. Then I take her to my favorite bookstore that also doubles as a record shop as they also sell vinyls. After pursuing the stacks and finding no novels of note, we start digging in crates side by side. Occasionally our fingers brush as we flip between the records but the slips don’t slow us down. I’m looking at a The Whispers album when I hear her say, “Oh wow.”

In her hands is Mary J. Bliges second album My Life.

“That’s a classic right there,” I said, remembering all the times we had to clean the house to this album.

“Truly. My mom loved this cd so much. I didn’t know they made it as a vinyl though,” she said.

“They’ve been remaking a lot of old albums into vinyls as record players have come back into style,” I said.

“I see,” she said, as her fingers trail over the price sticker. It’s thirty dollars and for someone on a job hunt, seems like an unnecessary purchase which is why she was attempting to put it back before I slipped the record from her hand. I place it under my arm along with The Whispers. “Xavier, it’s fine I don’t need it.”

“Maybe but you want it which is reason enough. Now help me find one more. I try to grab something out of my usual norm to expand my musical palette,” I said, as I moved to the next set of crates.

“Genre matter?” she asks, deciding to go along with me instead of fighting against me. I’m glad because I saw her eyes when she brought up her mother. This wasn’t just a vinyl, it was a good memory, and I wanted her to hold onto it anyway she could.

“Not at all. Whatever you think is interesting,” I say.

She nods her head and then we fall back into concentration. Time slips by but we don’t notice as we take our time. Eventually she plucks out a A Night at the Opera by Queen. The cover and titles of the songs are enough to add to the pile under my arm. I also grab Prince’s Purple Rain and Wu-Tang’s 36 Chambers, making it a total of five vinyls added to my collection before we head to Habana Outpost to grab a quick meal of tostones and fish tacos.

“I meant to ask you earlier but what made you start collecting vinyl?” she asks, wiping her hands on a napkin.

“Nothing in particular really. I love music and my friend Rah got one. I liked how the music sounded coming from it and got one for myself. Now I like finding random music to listen to,” I reply as I finish up my last taco.

“How many do you have?” she asked next.

“Um maybe forty something now,” I answered with a shrug because I wasn’t fully sure. “Would you like to see my collection? We can listen to a few and just chill.”

“When?” she asked, taking a sip of her frozen mojito that was partially melted from the heat that hadn’t let up even with the start of sunset.

“Now,” I chuckled. “I’ll get you an Uber back home.”

“I was going to say yes anyway but now that you’ve sweetened the pot…,” she trails off.

“Just trying to fulfill my Prince Charming duties,” I say, which causes her to laugh.

It’s a musical sound, light and airy, as she shakes her head at me. I thought her smile was something on its own but paired with her laugh it’s infectious. I smile back as she calls me corny for the thousandth time.

“Welcome to my home, make yourself comfortable,” I said, as I turned on the lights.

Behind me, Jamila toed out of her sneakers before padding into the hallway that led into the newly refurnished living room. As she nods her head in approval while looking around, I make a mental note to tell Rah he was right about the style choice. While she eyes the pictures I have on the mantel, I grab us two bottles of water from the kitchen.

“Thanks,” she says as I pass her one. “You have a nice place.”

“My best friend helped me redecorate. I needed a reset,” I replied, as I set mine on the coffee table.

“From what?” she questioned, watching me go to retrieve the bag that held the vinyls. She’s level with the crate beside the record player eyeing the collection.

Skimming through the bag in my hand, I pulled out hers first. Since she didn’t have a record player, I wanted her to hear how it would sound once she did.

“My ex. Felt like she was too entwined in my space and I couldn’t have that any more,” I said, walking back.

“That’s real. This feels like you, expressive yet centered,” she said.

I hummed my agreement as that was the vibe I was going for as I placed the vinyl on the platform and dropped the needle before going to lay down beside her. Jamila had stretched out on the carpet and was putting her phone away. We’re head to head as our bodies stretch out in the opposite direction. We lay side by side, enjoying the album in mostly silence. One of the things I like most about hanging out with her is that I don’t always have to speak. In fact, I spend most of our time listening with intent because learning about her has become my new favorite thing. I’m always finding different ways to get her thoughts and it usually takes me a while to figure out what to ask. It isn’t until we reach the title track that a question comes to mind. “What do you think when you hear this song?”

“I think of the pain because it’s what I hear, the emotion…the unquelled hope. If I knew how to any more, I might be moved to cry.”

“How does one forget to cry?” I ask next.

“When one learns it changes nothing. That even after the last tear is shed reality remains and all of that effort could have been spent towards figuring out another solution. I taught myself how not to cry, how to just roll with the punches, and now I think if I ever do cry again, I might not ever stop,” she said, causing my head to turn in her direction.

She knows I’m watching her but her gaze remains towards the ceiling. I study the way her eyelashes brush her cheeks as she blinks a few times. It’s something she does when she’s nervous in addition to playing with her hair. I’m sure if I raise my head a bit, I’ll see her fingers wrapped around a braid. While I watch, I consider her words before responding.

“It’s not a question of ‘if’ Mila, it’s when. You right in the fact that crying changes nothing but it’s not supposed to. Crying is cathartic. Crying isn’t a way out of our problems…it’s a way through them,” I muse, letting my eyes glide across her face.

Her brows are pulled inward letting me know she is processing that line of thought. “Maybe. When was the last time you cried?”

“I think it was three weeks ago to be honest. It was my turn to watch my Granddad but my cousin Ryan joined me. We all fell asleep watching a game but Grandad had a really bad nightmare, reliving something from Vietnam. I uh, had to tackle him because he started choking Ry, and then GiGi my grandma started yelling at us. It was just a lot,” I breathed out.

“I can only imagine, dealing with dementia is hard. The person you know is slipping away in real time,” she said.

“What actually makes it worse is the times when he is completely lucid because for a second you hope the doctors were wrong or that a miracle is happening but then within a blink you can see the confusion creep in,” I said.

“It’s good that you don’t have to go through it alone and that y’all are helping each other through this experience. Your grandma was probably scared that day,” she said.

“She told me as much but I wasn’t going to hurt him or at least I wasn’t trying to. I couldn’t standby and watch Ry die either,” I said.

“No you couldn’t have. It was a tough choice to make but you made the right one for everyone involved,” she says, words soothing a wound that was still in the progress of healing. The guilt from that incident remains a main focus in my therapy sessions.

“As for having a big family, it helps but it also makes it hard because sometimes our love stops us from making the best decisions for him. I’ve recommended he goes to a facility that specializes with dementia because he needs full time care but no one was trying to hear me. Accused me of not loving him because that’s not what family does,” I said, clenching my jaw as I thought about that night a year ago when the whole family ganged up on me.

No one wanted to accept that the help and care that Grandad went beyond any of our capabilities. It didn’t matter that my degree was in social work and I saw the signs clear as day. Saw the strain it was putting on GiGi who took everything with a silent grace that was sometimes unsettling. Saw how my own father regarded his father with sterile hospitality and how his siblings followed suit since he was the oldest. Saw how the weight of the situation might be on all of our shoulders but only a few of us were willing to carry it for real. Saw how the outcome regardless of who did what would destroy us all.

“I go over there more than anyone else even though I live the farthest. I’m the witness to most of his violent episodes that they like to pretend don’t occur. The anger of feeling helpless and frustrated pushes me over the edge after a while,” I said.

“I felt like that with my parents. For a while, I thought that I could save them but my grandma had to explain that what I was doing was enabling not saving. That nobody could save them but themselves,” she said, pausing to swipe her tongue over her bottom lip.

“The demons they fought were internal and no amount of money or love could slay them. Watching them succumb to their addictions made me feel the same way. The last day I cried was because they had robbed me. Took anything that wasn’t nailed down outside of my clothes and important documents because they overpowered my grandma at the door. She only had it open a sliver but they broke the chain and barged in.”

“That was recent?” I asked.

“Nah, right before my high school graduation,” she replied.

It didn’t take me long to do the math. “That was…

“Eleven years ago,” she said, filling in the blanks, turning her head in my direction.

There are eleven years worth of tears, an ocean’s worth really, pent up inside of her. The realization dawns on me the same moment our eyes lock and for the first time I see the anguish in them. It wasn’t buried under layers of anger and snark. It was right at the forefront as she opened herself to me. Next to the anguish was fear of this…of being open but some part of her knew she didn’t have to be afraid around me. Knew that I could be a safe space to land and it’s not something I take lightly. There’s a protective nature that rises in me around her, stronger than anything I have ever felt. I don’t need to dissect it to know that it’s innate and neither does she as our hands stretch towards each other at the same time. Another understanding has passed between us as Mary’s vocals fill the air.

If you looked in my life and seen what I’ve seen…

#metamorphasisff #slow burn romance #black fiction #black romance #zendaya x mjb

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badge-does-stuff · 9 months

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I rewrote Hades and His Small Friends... 😳

There are some pretty big changes! You can check out the first chapter under the cut :)

REBLOGS + COMMENTS > LIKES

One of our main protagonists, a 41-year-old man named Hades, walks down the street calmly. He’s quite impressed with his look for today—he didn’t shave the stubble and he thinks it suits him (…nobody agrees; don’t tell him). He is on the way to his favourite coffee shop. It’s been forever since he’s seen Cashier Boy and Barista Girl (the brother and sister that work there).

It’s been so long, in fact, that he forgets he has to take a right turn instead of a left.

He ends up in a wide alley, strewn with garbage. There’s graffiti on the walls of the redbrick apartments that make up the sides, and he can't help but stare at the colours. His eyes soon fixate on a person smoking a Camel.

They look young, and not much older than 20. They are sitting on an old yellow couch someone has thrown out. They seem familiar…

"Hey, kid," Hades calls. The person looks up. "Wait. Rocky?"

"Hades?"

"What’s happened to you?" Hades asks, running his hand through his (greasy) black hair.

"Mom kicked me out," he calls back. "I’ve been here for a few days."

"Hera did what? Why?"

"Well, I got kicked out of uni. And I lost my job. Make of that what you will."

"And your dad was fine with this sudden change of events?"

"I… may have told Mom about his assistant, too."

Hades scoots over and claps Rocky on the back. "I taught you right. Good kid."

He laughs. "Safe to say Mom’s reaction was… a little different."

"Well, regardless, I’m proud of you, kid. You need help, yeah? Place to stay, an’ all that?"

Rocky nods. "If it’s not too much."

"I got you. Don’t worry, dude. Have you been praying?"

"Nah. I haven’t, for a while. Not since a few months ago."

"No wonder, kid. We’ll work on it."

Hades takes a second to look at Rocky. He’s in an oversized, yellowy-beige puffer jacket over an Arctic Monkeys t-shirt, grey sweatpants and—are those Crocs? They will be doing some shopping later on.

"Not to mention, you’ve been wearing Crocs for the past week and you’re still spending money on cigarettes? Look at me." Rocky’s eyes reluctantly meet Hades’. "Drop it. You are twenty-three years old and you know those hurt you."

"Fine. And, for the record, I stole a pack from Mom and Dad before I left."

"That’s no better." Hades gestures out to the busy street behind them. Rocky follows hesitantly, wincing as they step out into the sunlight that manages to completely vanish in the alley.

Hades guides him down the sidewalk as he waves to the regular vendors and neighbours and such. It really has been a while; Joey’s Hawt Dawg stall has moved several feet to the left.

Once they get to the coffee shop that Hades is a regular at, called The Right Stuff, Barista Girl and Cashier Boy wave. They are wearing their uniform; a dark grey collared shirt with a name tag pinned on, a black apron of sorts and a white tie. As always, Cashier Boy has tied his tie wrong. Nobody seems to notice or care, so Hades doesn’t point it out.

"Mr. Hades! It’s been so long!" Cashier Boy calls from behind the counter. He has light brown, floppy hair and a piercing in his left ear.

Barista Girl and Cashier Boy both got their jobs at the same time a few years back. Their first customer was Hades, and he is also their favourite.

"Yes, yes. Work has been busy recently, so I haven’t got the chance to step out for a walk. I’ve brought my nephew today, though. His name is Rocky. Rocky, Barista Girl and Cashier Boy. Barista Girl and Cashier Boy, Rocky."

Hades was never the best at introductions.

"Hi. I’m Rocky. Or Rocky." Rocky waves. Cashier Boy waves back.

"I’m not really named Cashier Boy. My name is Lionel. This is my sister, Eleanor." Cashier Boy gestures to a girl who’s just returned from the coffee makers, matching his brown hair but hers is chin-length and curlier. She also dyed it pink, but it is fading, and barely visible. She waves as well.

"Wonderful. I can already see you becoming the best of friends. I will have a vanilla latte, extra whipped cream and- do you still do the little sprinkles? The chocolate ones?" Lionel nods. "Those, please. Rocky? Your order?" Hades gestures upward toward a screen displaying an array of fancy, caffeinated drinks.

The 'Fresh Fruit Juice' section appears to be more appealing, however. "I’ll get a strawberry lemonade, please," Rocky decides.

"Alrighty." Lionel taps the cash register and goes to serve another customer.

"Rocky, let’s find a table? Is right here okay?" Hades gestures to a nearby table that seems significantly less sticky than the other ones available.

Rocky nods and sits down. He watches the customer Eleanor pauses to greet, who happens to be a regular with whom she went to school and "hasn’t seen in ages."

Hades flicks a spare crumb from the cool black metal.

A few minutes later, he checks his watch and sighs. "Hey, kid. The plan is to head back to mine, but I’ve gotta go back home tomorrow. You wanna come and see Seph?" Hades starts to stand up, prodding Rocky’s arm lightly. Rocky startles, blinking back into reality.

"Aw, yeah, definitely. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen her." Rocky leads Hades over to the counter, where their orders are ready. Rocky takes a sip and sighs. "Wow. Good job. I see why Hades loves this place. Whoa." He turns back towards Hades. "Right, Hades, how often do you come here?"

"It depends on work. Most of the time ends up being a couple nights every few weeks. I’ll let you know whenever I’m heading over." Rocky seems more relaxed with this, so Hades takes it as a sign to say goodbye and head out.

#writing #my writing #finn writes stuff finally #finn writes stuff #original work #original story

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chl3borzoi · 1 year

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SOOOOO i blocked my sister

Youre entitled to not like family after theyve done shit things.

Yes, my sister was a great resource when i was i my preteens letting me live with her during the summer, and for getting on my brothers for their behavior when i was in my early early teens but by that point it was kinda far too late

The thing that did it was on Thanksgiving last year she came with a woman weve never met before thats shes only known for 4 months saying theyre getting married in 2 weeks and moving to texas immediately after.

Our brother and his partner brought them out to lunch and tried to say hey we think youre going kinda fast you should take more time to get to know each other etc. They flat out told him theyre not invited to the wedding. Then when she gets home after that, she comes downstairs to find me and tells me theyre getting married, and she leans in and whispers "you're inviiiiteeeed~"

Shes in her early 30's

The thing is our MOM couldnt even attend because it was such short notice. And the marriage place couldnt get the shitty zoom stream to work. Our mom had to watch a recording of the service.

I looked out the deck window and saw her lying on her back on the porch watching the video and I knew her heart was broken.

Like. Christ im gonna put it all out there

I could tell stories of how my sister used to make me cry as a child, too. And where our parents failed to parent and the eldest should have taken the place of responsibility and etc she didnt give a fuck and YES a child should never have to act a parent role thats shitty but she was 15+ yrs old she shoulda fucking known better. (I have literally my entire family to blame for almost all of my issues, But still. During my crucial years i really do feel she did not care, and it didn't help that between me and her we have 3 THREE brothers who (one of which legitimately hated me ) too)) I DIGRESS

She let our childhood home turn into a jungle because she was too busy sitting in sweatpants smoking pot and drinking starbucks and begging our mom for more money to be put on her account,

(its all torn down, now too.)

We havent spoken very much,

Mostly just snapchats here and there

And a few days ago she sent me a chat on here saying shes revamping her account and wants to be active on here, so i blocked her.

Not only because i want tumblr to be an escape from personal real life shit but because i don't really wanna communicate or be reminded of her selfish dumb behavior.

Shes extremely hard to communicate with in person, too. Literally! I feel like im crazy trying to explain it. Shes so slow... it feels like trying to have a convo with her sometimes it feels like shes unintentionally gaslighting you. I know that sounds dumb but im fuckin serious.

She was so helpless when we helped her move, too. Pacing back and forth and fretting over all her shit (we're a packrat family yeah but holy fuck shes gonna end up being a fuckin hoarder) and me and our mom were just lifting stuff and carrying it out like :/

Sheesh

I don't hate her or wish her or her wife any ill will, its just. Fuck man. Walk in, break our moms heart (as if it isnt already broken after all the shit weve been thru as a family...) and act like everythings fine and perfect.

Also I literally witnessed my sister do/say this to her wife

"Hey, -blank-, come fight this pokemon go tournament for me."

?!?!?!??!?

She was like "okay :D" but still thats so fucking bizarre

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cattoy4ever · 2 years

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Part Two: Who Was Matthew Warren?

Chewing at my fingertips, I was seconds away from giving up on my Facebook investigation. What kind of multi-millionaire rich guy doesn’t have ANY close friends or family? At the very least, business executives he’s met in the past? I checked all of his social media, nothing. So I tried seeing if he had anything on the public record. After going through multiple pages of google, I finally stumbled onto The Autobiography of Matthew Warren: Future billionaire!, it was really just a pathetic blog with no likes and 2 random followers.

I scrolled all the way to the bottom and read every. Single. Entry.

Basic descriptions of his childhood, where he grew up, his family, and weekend plans. That was until 2 months ago, where he stopped mentioning his family completely. He posted less and less leading up to his death date. And when he did, it was very vague and generic posts. His last post was 4 days ago, 2 days prior to his death.

“The Truman Show is the best movie to watch on a cold rainy day! It was a movie I discovered recently but apparently it’s not well liked by my friends and family! Anyways, if you’re reading this I recommend you give it a watch and come back to me. Thank you! Good night, America.”

Another bust post, no clues. But he did mention his mother is a school teacher, meaning I can find the school’s database and hopefully get in touch with her. I could find out more information about Warren and if she knew anything about his death.

I did just that and rang up her number.

“Hello, who is this?”

“Hello ma'am, are you Shelly Warren?”

“This is she.”

“Okay, my name is Nancy Whitlock and I’m calling in concern for your son Matthew.”

“I don’t have a son.”

“... you aren’t related to Matthew Warren?”

Click

“H-hello? Bitch.” I hissed and threw my phone. She was my only chance at contacting his family, I couldn’t find anyone else’s phone numbers. I sank into the Motel bed. Just then, my phone rang and I scrambled to pick it up.

“Hey Nance”

Micheal.

“What do you want, Mike?” I snapped back.

“I’m really sorry for our argument back there. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just got worried. And I want you to know that’ll always be there for you no matter what you’re going through-”

My screen lit up with another call from an unknown number. I itched, it could be related to the case.

“So please just let me know if somethings bothering you or if there’s anything I can do to help you”

“Yeah yeah mike” I hushed, “love you too bye”

“Wait but I-”

I switched calls and let out a sharp exhale.

“Hello?”

A timid soft woman’s voice responded, “are you the girl who tried to call my mom?”

“Yes. Yes! I’m her and you are?”

“I’m Matt’s younger sister, Bailey. Um, I wanted to talk to you about my brother. Can I see you tomorrow morning at 9 AM? I live at 3028 WestBurrow Dr?”

“Wow oh wow that would be wonderful” I chuckled breathly, silently thanking god I picked up.

Her house was just as depressing as her voice. A sad baby blue, molded chipped white fence, and viens sprawled up the sides. My gut was telling me to run away, she could be a serial killer and I’m just walking right into her house.

But when she greeted me, all thoughts of her being a killer dissolved from my mind. Large tender eyes stained with dark circles, messy uncombed hair, and a very ragged robe stood before me. I suddenly felt less guilty about wearing the same work clothes from yesterday.

“Please, please come in. I’ll make you some tea.”

Her house was cluttered with useless junk. She was in the kitchen talking to me as I took a personal tour around her home. An entire wall littered with cut out newspaper clippings regarding her brother's death. All saying the same thing, natural causes.

“Would you like jasmine or chamomile?”

Tracing a photograph of Warren with my finger, “Jasmine is fine.”

“Heh, my mom thinks I’m a total nut. I was over at her house when she got the call and had to beg on my knees for her to hand over your number”

Sitting down now, she kept her face close to the mug like she was freezing despite it being a warm day.

“I mean what perfectly healthy 30 year old’s heart just stops going? And a closed casket? It was a heart attack for god’s sake. Why would that be necessary?”

Pulling out a notepad I began my series of questions, “Tell me, what was Mr Warren like?”

She chuckled and smiled to herself, “Oh Matt was the best older brother anyone could ask for. He had large dreams of becoming a billionaire and spending it on his family. Total family man. He loved movies and writing, despite having this always-work grind mindset.”

“Family man, you say?” Bailey nodded, still smiling, “But he isn’t following any of his family members? Not even you?”. Bailey’s smile morphed into a soft frown.

“Yes it is true, he blocked all of us months ago.”

“Why? What changed?”

Bailey’s chest puffed up and sighed deeply, “A couple months ago he kinda lost his mind. He would stay awake all night for days near the front door with a baseball bat, changed locks 5 times, anytime we went out to a restaurant he would insist on sitting somewhere that faced his back to the wall so he could observe the entire diner. That was barely even the surface of his anxieties. I mean he’s always been a paranoid person but this is a different level.”

Mike’s words replayed in my mind and I did my best not to seethe.

“But what made him block all of you?” I repeated.

“Well, we confronted him about his paranoia and he said that he was being followed. That he knew too much information but refused to elaborate for ‘our own safety’. We all got in an argument and he said some things that permanently severed his relationship with mom. He then said that if he ends up dead, he’ll be on our conscious and left. Guess he wasn’t wrong about that.”

The silence was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

“What do you think happened to him?” My voice cut through the silence like a bullet causing Bailey to jump slightly.

“I dunno, I think he was murdered. By someone… some people. I mean he told us himself, what else is there to think?”

“Your family?”

“My dad says his paranoia made his heart give out and my mom is in complete denial of the whole thing. Even mentioning his name is enough to cause a meltdown. I’m the only one fucking doing anything, but it all leads to nothing. Sure he was murdered, but that’s where it ends. Checked with the phone company and all it was was business calls.”

My tea's gone cold.

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steele-soulmate · 11 months

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Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 362, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, blood, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks

WORDS: 1357

I tied my baby sister’s hair up with a hair tie before lowering myself to my knees and rubbing her back, crooning softly as morning sickness overtook her.

“I can have Peter make a run to the grocery store and grab some saltine crackers for you to nibble at whenever you start to feel urpy,” I offered her in a gentle voice, handing her a water bottle when she emerged once more, gasping for air and eyes full of annoyance and embarrassment. “Nearly every pregnant woman out there suffers from morning sickness at one point or another, it’s totally normal.”

“Baby Bradley is due on February first of next year,” she told me with a scratchy voice, rinsing out her mouth and spitting into the toilet bowl. “I really want a little girl- I’ve always wanted a mini me!”

“Sammi, you need to remember that Baby Bradley is an actual human being, with feelings and needs and dreams,” I reminded her in a stern voice. “Yes, playing dress up and shopping for baby clothes and taking adorable pictures is nice and all, but you’ll also have dirty diapers, nights of no sleep, baby temper tantrums and hungry baby tummies. Having a baby isn’t all fun and games like on TV.”

“But still…” she grumbled, wiping her mouth with a handful of toilet paper before standing and flushing. “How did you and Peter come up with Baby Tommy’s name?”

“We both really like classic names,” I shrugged, staying with her as she washed her hands. “I pitched the name Donald but Peter turned down Baby Donnie.”

“And I wonder why…” My baby sister glowered as she washed her mouth out once more. “I really like the name Meadow.”

“Well I hate it,” I bluntly told her as we both left the restrooms and made our way back up to the archers encampment to finish helping with setup. “What’s wrong with classic baby names? Why do people find such appeal in stupid baby names?”

“Some of them are creative!” Sammi argued.

“I personally think that some baby names should be vetoed right at the hospital!” I informed her, looping an arm around her. “Like, there’s this one girl in Texas who has this long ass name only because her mom wanted to break a world record. Did you hear about that story?”

“I don’t think I did actually,” she hummed as we came back up to Jackie, who was setting up a tent with help from Elizabeth and Kelly, Baby Tommy and the dollies under close supervision under Daisy.

“Hihi Jack-Jack,” I greeted her affectionately. “Where’s Peter?”

“He ran off to the Wal-Mart to grab some things,” she shrugged, opening the tent flap and making certain that everything line up fine. “He told me to tell you to text him if you need anything at all.”

“Oh?” I asked, taking my cell phone out from my bra and noticing that I had received a text message from my husband.

Do you want me to grab you anything from Wal-Mart? I’m picking up some saltine crackers for Sammi.

My heart exploded into sweet flutters at how loving her could be.

Can you grab some blueberries for me?

My cell phone buzzed a moment later.

Done.

“Hey Sam-Sam, what kind of weird cravings have you been having?” I asked, genially curious.

“Strawberries,” both younger sisters said at the same time.

And strawberries- Sammi has been craving them

I got a picture response- a little hand basket packed with three boxes of saltine crackers, one bag of blueberries and at least six or seven bags of strawberries.

Done and done sweetheart.

I smiled as my fingers typed out I love you before slipping my cell phone back into my bra.

“Did Sammi tell you the names she picked out for Baby Bradley?” Jackie asked in a dry voice.

“Meadow?” I asked as Elizabeth and Katie were busy helping some of the heavies with the Ratajczyk family tent. “Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan of that name.”

“No,” Jackie shook her head before leaning in to whispered softly into my ear.

“Fucking shit, Sammi, I swear, if you name Baby Bradley that shit, I will shave your head while you’re sleeping and post those pictures of you in the third grade!” I snarled, knowing perfectly well that she would murder whoever posted the school pictures of her doomed haircut she did all by herself. “And Baby Bradley might be a little boy.”

“But I really want a little girl!” she whined just as my husband was ambling his way in, holding four stuffed Wal-Mart bags in his hands.

“Tough luck, Sam-Sam,” I frowned at her, smiling as Peter transitioned the bags from one hand into his other arms before swooping down to press a sweet kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Hello sweetheart,” he gently rumbled before standing and guiding me into our family tent, where all the furniture had been assembled together and dumping everything he bought out onto our marital bed.

I smiled as I picked up a box of Ondansetron tablets, setting them with the saltine crackers and strawberries before spinning into his arms.

“You are a truly good man,” I giggled as I felt him harden at my womanly touch. “I love you Peter Thomas Ratajczyk.”

“And I love you, Mary Claire Ratajczyk.” He scooped me into his strong arms and held me up as I wrapped my legs around his hips and pressed our foreheads together. “I love you sweetheart.” He growled as I humped my core into him before he scrambled to free himself and tug my undies off to the side.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH…” I gasped quietly when he impaled himself fully before beginning to pump his meaty length in and out of me, grunting softly and clashing kisses as we reached higher, and higher, and higher…

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK…” Peter stilled as his shafted gave out a strong pulse before releasing his manly cream deep into me, groaning as I went limp in his arms and blacked out.

When I came to next, I was laying on the bed with my husband’s face in between my thighs, slurping up our shared mixtures, lapping up as much as he possibly could.

Peter

I could feel his smile as he rubbed his thumb into the side of my knee, reassuring me that he knew I had woken back up again, working all the more harder as my delicate flower trembled violently before spilling out my womanly nectar, spilling all over his face.

“You taste fucking delicious sweetheart,” he gasped when he finished at last before pressing our lips together, where he gently nudged my lips open with his tongue and allowed me to taste our shared release from his mouth. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

I love you, my sexy silver daddy.

“I know you do sweetheart,” he murmured gently, slipping my underwear off and stuffing them into his pocket before righting me. “Now you rest up- I’ll go take care of the kids.”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@starchild0985

#Real person fiction (RPF)#Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL)#Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down's Syndrome #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

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the-lone-witch-and-secret-room · 3 years

Text

Camila Noceda and Flawed Parenting

A perspective by a flawed person with loving but extremely flawed parents

I’m genuinely baffled at some people’s hostile reaction towards Camila. Like… do any of you have flawless parents that always know the best solution instantly, make no mistakes and never get emotional?

My parents are great. They’re super supportive and I love them very, very much. Overall I think I got very lucky in the parents department.

But god, they are far from flawless. I still live at home, and despite all the good, there’s moments when I can’t take my dad anymore. He’s the kind of dad that stayed up until two am to help me with homework when I was in school, and he does so, so many things to make sure I’m happy. I know that. But despite all of this, I have told my mom in emotional moments before that I’m not sure if I can keep living with him, because for all his good sides, he has a couple of fatal flaws that sometimes make him unbearable.

My mom listens to me and is very open to being educated on certain topics, but she has her flaws, too. She hates when I fight with my dad, and gets so torn up about it that I’ve once apologized to my dad out of fear of her getting into a car crash otherwise. She’s very vocal about certain flaws of mine, and sometimes uses the things she does for me as leverage against me when she gets very emotional.

And both of my parents pay a lot more attention to my brother because he needs it more, because he’s more of a “problem child” while I “seem so capable” even when I’m not.

And guess what? I’m not a perfect child. I make mistakes sometimes, some of them pretty severe. Just like Luz, I’m the kind of person that struggles to communicate certain issues of mine to her parents. I’m stubborn, and when I get emotional, I say very hurtful things sometimes. So do they.

And this has nothing to do with my parents being horrible or abusive. They’re neither of those things.

The takeaway from this should not be that my entire family is made up of terrible people, but that we’re all flawed in our own ways, despite loving each other and trying our best. There’s things about my parents I wish I could change, and there are things about me that my parents wish they could change. And to an extent, that’s perfectly normal.

In our strengths and flaws and frustration with each other, we’re all human.

Specific, spoiler-y Camila and Luz things under the cut since this got very long.

We have no indication that Camila has a pattern of emotionally manipulating Luz. Her “emotional manipulation” as I’ve seen some people put it, is people for some reason thinking that the second you become an adult, you’re suddenly perfect and can no longer make mistakes, lest you’ll be dubbed horrible and abusive.

The whole concept is absurd to me. There is no perfect way to parent. There simply isn’t. Of course, there’s some genuinely abusive patterns that are horrible and inexcusable. But out of the parenting styles that aren’t, which one works depends on a number of factors, one of which absolutely includes that every child is different and has different needs. Camila is an amazing parent for Vee, giving the kid everything she’s ever longed for. She’s not an ideal parent for Luz. And that’s because Luz and Vee have fundamentally different needs.

Likewise, Luz is a pretty great child for Eda, but not a perfect fit for Camila. Luz relates to Eda a lot more than she relates to her mom, and that’s why the two of them have an easier time understanding each other. Both of these mother-child relationships exist, and one is not more doomed to fail than the other, but I think you’ll agree that the better you understand someone and where they’re coming from, the easier it is to communicate, pick up on certain signs, etc.

As mom and daughter, Camila and Luz are both flawed and have issues seeing the other’s perspective because of how different they are. And we should simultaneously acknowledge both of their roles in the issue and give both of them the space to learn and grow past those issues.

Luz struggles to communicate her problems. She doesn’t want to burden people in the demon realm, and it’s a given that this started out as not wanting to burden her mom. So she keeps quiet about her issues. Camila tries hard but can’t read her daughter’s mind, so there’s only so much she can do to understand and help the way Luz needs her to. Hell, Eda, who Luz is a lot more open with than her mom, struggles to help her, because Luz doesn’t tell her what’s wrong. I don’t see anyone calling Eda a terrible mom for that.

Camila tries her best, but she struggles to understand her daughter because of this, and because of how fundamentally different they are. She loves Luz’s creativity, we actively see her supporting it in the new episode—she keeps the weird stuff Luz made because she thinks Luz will regret throwing it away, and even plays along in what she assumes to be some elaborate role play because “she’s glad Luz kept her creativity even though it’s not made things easy for her at school”. But at the beginning of the show, said creativity got out of hand and people got hurt. Luz could’ve gotten hurt. So of course Camila had to interfere. I love Luz dearly, but she thought it was okay to bring snakes to school and set off fireworks inside a school building. Creativity is great. Doing reckless stuff that causes people to get hurt is not.

In sending Luz to camp, Camila tried to have someone else fix her issue because she didn’t know how to help Luz. That was a mistake, and a bad one at that, but she’s realizing that. She looks disheartened when Vee tries to throw out Luz’s stuff, because she never meant to change her daughter or take that part of her away. She just thought Luz needed a reality check—which, for the record, is something the narrative actually agrees with.

Luz spends her time in the demon realm getting reality check after reality check, realizing that even her ideal fantasy world where she has everything she always wanted doesn’t mean she’s free of consequences. She goes overboard constantly, causing:

-Eda to be forced to fly into a trap because Luz is chasing a fantasy (Witches before Wizards)

-Eda to almost be branded by her sister because Luz doesn’t think through why Eda doesn’t use magic to publicly announce her presence constantly (Once Upon a Swap)

-Eda and the twins to get kidnapped by a Slitherbeast because Luz stole Amity’s wand (Adventures in the Elements)

-Her friends to get hurt when she goes overboard trying to help Willow (Wing it like Witches)

-Eda to be captured and almost petrified because Luz thought she could just steal from the Emperor with no consequences in an attempt to help (Agony of a Witch)

I’m like 90% sure these aren’t even all. None of those make her a terrible person, for the record, but as all humans are, she is flawed and makes bad choices. She learns from these experiences and matures, just like her mom had hoped she would at camp. She’s also made friends there, which was another thing Camila wanted for her daughter.

You’ll probably realize that a lot of Luz’s behaviors I mentioned follow one of two patterns: 1. Luz’s idealized fantasy world causing problems, when she walks around with rose tinted glasses and gets people in trouble in the process because she hasn’t thought about the consequences, and 2. Luz trying to help someone she loves, but instead making things worse in the progress. The issue with this one is often that she doesn’t communicate her ideas/listen to the people she’s trying to help—like when Willow and Gus said they’ve had enough of Grudgby, or how she never actually talks to Eda about the healing hat idea before doing something reckless.

…does the latter one sound familiar to you at all? No? Because it’s the exact same thing that Camila did.

Some of the things Luz does are reckless and actively endanger others and herself, and that’s something that I think we need to acknowledge before judging Camila. As Luz’s mom, it’s Camila’s job to interfere in those situations. That she made a mistake while trying to protect Luz doesn’t make her a terrible person, especially as, again, the narrative proves her right to an extent.

I’m not saying her making Luz promise to come back and stay isn’t something that hurt Luz—it absolutely is. But it was born out of desperation. She’s emotional and in shock. She’s so full of pain and regret. She just wants her fourteen year old daughter home safe, and there’s nothing abusive or even morally ambiguous about that.

From Luz’s perspective, what she says is absolutely heartbreaking, but from Camila’s, it’s perfectly reasonable. I doubt Camila has the full picture, but even if she does, she’s had a full fifteen seconds to process that her daughter has not only been lying to her for months, but chose to leave her, and is in the demon realm of all places. Of course she’d be emotional and upset about that! Who wouldn’t? Camila isn’t a robot. If she’d been calm about this I’d be way more concerned, honestly.

My parents don’t get mad that easily, but if I would lie to them for weeks on end, they’d be pissed off too, not even taking the running away from home part into account. That’s a normal thing. People don’t like being lied to. Camila is absolutely devastated in that moment because she’s scared that Luz left because she hates her, when Luz actively states that her leaving wasn’t about her mom—which is another thing we should really be acknowledging.

Abusive parents suck and abuse should obviously never be apologized or trivialized, but saying something hurtful in the heat of the moment isn’t the same thing as being an abusive parent. My parents have done this. I’ve done this. And yes, those things can be emotionally manipulative, but there’s a huge difference in whether that’s a habit or a person speaking out of hurt and desperation in a very specific context. I doubt there’s anyone on the entire planet that hasn’t had a bad moment where they’ve said something like this because they were hurting. People lash out when they hurt, and they beg for reassurance when they’re scared. That’s something we all do.

The whole mindset of “all parents have to be perfect and can never get upset or make any mistakes” is harmful as hell, and honestly also very unrealistic. No parent is perfect, and especially people like me who have a relationship with their parents that’s very good overall should know that.

Once you have a child, parenting is a non-stop learning process, every day for the rest of your life. Taking away that room to grow and expecting perfection isn’t helping anyone, especially not struggling single parents.

And I see Camila as someone who is very willing to learn, because at the end of the day, all she wants is for Luz to be happy. Let’s give her some time to wrap her head around this whole situation. Let’s see what she says once she sees for herself how happy Luz is in that world, may it be via the videos eventually coming through or Camila visiting and meeting Luz’s found family, her friends and her girlfriend.

Ultimately, I don’t think Camila will force Luz to stay at home, but we have to give her some time. She wants what’s best for Luz, and she’s gonna need some convincing that a dangerous magical world is what’s best. I feel like that’s very normal considering the circumstances.

Her and Luz need to work on their communication on both ends, they both have things to learn, but I’m certain they’ll manage to fix their relationship in the long run.

If the bunk bed is any indication, I think Vee is gonna stay in the human realm permanently while Luz sleeps at home but keeps attending Hexside in the daytime. That feels like a solution that keeps everyone happy, and allows Luz to spend time with all the people she loves. I can’t see her being forced to choose at the end.

As a closing statement: Eda isn’t an ideal mom, Amity isn’t an ideal friend or girlfriend and neither is Luz, Lilith isn’t an ideal sister… but that’s because no one is ever an ideal anything. Being flawed is a big part of being human. Everyone has different facets to their personality. Their flaws are what makes them such great, relatable, believable characters.

And I feel the same way about Camila. She’s an extremely believable character that reminds me of my own parents, flawed but very loving nonetheless.

(Also honestly, I think it’s pretty telling that some of you guys immediately bash the black single mom that’s obviously trying her hardest while giving the benefit of the doubt to Alador, who has been portrayed as neglecting and threatened his six year old daughter on screen. This was already a thing before we knew much about either of them, and I’m disappointed but unfortunately not very surprised that it still is.)

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

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Three’s a Crowd || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: when you come down to visit your boyfriend, bucky barnes, at the wilson residence and see his interaction with sam’s nephews firsthand- you can’t help but entertain the idea of having a family of your own with the super soldier.

a/n: here’s some short and sweet fluff prior to the season finale! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of starting a family? it’s pure fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

“Hey sleepyhead.” You hummed, running your fingers through your boyfriend’s hair.

At the sound of your voice and the gentle touch of your fingers slipping through his hair and brushing against his skin ever so slightly, Bucky opened his eyes to bet met with your figure sitting at his side, staring down at him.

No matter how many times he woke up to see you first thing in the morning with the sunlight highlighting your features, he would swear he was in heaven- utterly consumed with the feeling of pure bliss.

“Hi, doll.” He smiled, his voice still raspy.

At the feeling of his hands moving to lay on either side of your waist you smiled. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, realizing that you had come all the way down to the Wilson’s home when the last place Bucky had left you before going on his mission with Sam was at your shared apartment in New York.

“I missed you.” You shrugged.

“I told you I was coming home today, Y/n.”

“I know, Buck.” You said, now laying your palm against his cheek. “But I heard about everything that happened and I couldn’t wait another day to see you.”

Looking up at you and leaning into your palm that was cupping his cheek, Bucky couldn’t believe how he ever got so lucky as to have you.

Breaking him out of his moment spent admiring you, he heard the sound of Sam’s nephews running into the room, and turned his head only to see them playing with the famous vibranium shield in their hands.

“Hey!” He exclaimed.

Immediately upon being caught by the super soldier, the boys dropped the shield onto the ground, scurrying out of the room, no doubt scared about getting caught with their uncle’s prized possession.

“Look at you babysitting.” You laughed, playfully swatting at your boyfriend’s chest.

Bucky caught your hand midair and scoffed. “I’m not babysitting... it’s just... dangerous... you know?”

“Sure,” You smiled. “Whatever you say, tough guy.”

Grasping the dog tags that were lying on his chest, you gently tugged on the chain and brought his face inches away from yours. Seeing his sleepy, smiling face- you brought your lips to meet his for a soft kiss before pulling away.

“One more?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows.

“Go brush your teeth first.” You laughed, watching as he threw you a fake pout. “Then I’ll see what I can do.”

Although the two of you spent the remainder of the day apart- Bucky training with Sam and you helping Sarah with things she needed done around the property- you came together again on the docks that evening while the Sun began to set over the horizon.

Carrying a crate in your hands that you had assured Sarah wasn’t too heavy for you, you made your way near the boat again, laying your eyes on your super soldier boyfriend for the first time since that morning.

You swear your heart could’ve burst right in your chest, taking in the sight in front of you.

Bucky was stood at the end of the dock, one hand on his knee while he chatted with Sam and his sister beside him. His other arm- his vibranium one- was stretched out and you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you witnessed Sam’s nephews and other children you hadn’t seen before hanging off of it, laughing to one another in awe about how “cool” his arm was.

With the golden hue of the sunset setting over your boyfriend’s features, you wished you had a camera on you so you could never forget the moment. You could’ve sworn you would’ve stood there for eternity staring if it weren’t for Bucky catching your eye, waving back at you smiling.

Although you couldn’t hear him, you watched as he said something to the kids, gently shaking them off of his arm, before striding over to you.

“Here, let me take that.” He offered, taking the crate from your arms and setting it down on the dock.

Watching as he did so, your mind was still utterly consumed with the image you had just seen in front of you.

“So kids really seem to like you, huh?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, before remembering what he had just been up to. “Oh that?” Bucky asked gesturing back towards where the kids were playing at the end of the dock. “No... they just like the arm, you know?”

As much as you loved your boyfriend, you knew that he was completely naive when it came to the positive effects he had on people.

“Buck...” You cooed, reaching for his hands and pulling his body closer to yours. “When are you going to realize that people like you for you? They think you’re cool! Sure, the metal arm helps, but just admit it babe- kids like you.”

Resting his hands on your waist, you watched as a teasing smirk formed on his face.

“Why are you so obsessed with how kids act around me today?”

As soon as he asked, you began to feel flustered by him not only noticing, but calling you out on it. You hadn't realized you were being so obvious, but you could barely help yourself. Seeing your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, surrounded by kids? You couldn’t help but think of him surrounded by children of your own. All you could think about all day when not engaged in an active conversation with those around you was entertaining the idea of starting a family with your favorite 106 year-old man.

“I’m not!” You exclaimed, playfully swatting at his chest. “Why are you so obsessed with me being obsessed about you with kids? Hmm? Wanna answer that old man?”

Watching as you laughed while teasing him, Bucky couldn’t help but get lost in the moment.

“Buck-” You began.

“You know you look so beautiful right now?” He cut you off.

You bit your bottom lip to try to hide the large smile that was creeping over your face at his compliment. No matter how long the two of you had been together, or how many times he complimented you, he always knew how to make you feel the same butterflies you did the first time you met him.

“Especially with the sunset? You look beautiful all the time, doll, but... wow.” He said.

“Bucky, stop flattering me.” You insisted, running your hands up his chest before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

“I mean it, Y/n.” He said. “You’re the best looking thing on this damn planet.”

Utterly consumed in the moment, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Me?” You asked. “Have you ever seen yourself? I swear I want our kids to look just like you.”

As soon as the sentence slipped out of your mouth, you regretted it. It came out so naturally you hadn’t even had time to think about it before you essentially just confessed to your boyfriend that you wanted to have children with him.

Although you and him had no doubt in your minds that you would spend the rest of your lives together, you understood that now might not have been the best time to bring up such a big life change with both of you only being thrown back into existence half a year ago and him being consumed in his work not only in saving the world, but in saving himself.

Embarrassed, you tried to weasel your way out of his grasp, but he only gripped his hands tighter on your waist pulling you towards him.

“What did you say?” He asked.

“I’m so sorry! Forget I said anything-” You pleaded.

“No, Y/n, stop. Stop apologizing.” He said. “Were you... were you talking about kids all day because you were thinking about... were you thinking about me being a dad?”

As you looked into his eyes, you could see how serious he was and you knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“Yes.”

The two of you stood staring at each other in silence for a few moments and just as you were beginning to grow afraid that you might have ruined everything, you watched as your boyfriend began to chuckle, a light smile playing on his lips.

“What?” You asked. “What is it?”

“Thank God.”

Quirking your eyebrows you pressed again. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” He asked playfully, pulling on your waist to tug you closer towards him. “Do you think I haven’t been thinking the same thing all day?”

“What-”

“Y/n.” He said seriously, the smile leaving his face. “You’ve been taking care of Sam’s nephews all day. Do you think the thought hasn’t crossed my mind? I know... I know I’ve been through a lot... we’ve been through a lot... but I want this with you.”

You could feel your heart swell in your chest, listening to your boyfriend’s words.

“What are you saying, Buck?” You asked.

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” He asked, smiling once again. “Okay. Today when I couldn’t tie the kid’s shoelaces because of my hand and you stepped in and did it for me I thought about how good of a mom you would be. You’d be such a good mom, Y/n. I’m a piece of work- I know that- but God you would be so good at it and if I have... you know... mini me’s running around I wouldn’t want anyone else because I know that they would be the most loved and cared for kids in the damn world having you as their mom.”

You once again couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you listened to your boyfriend’s praise. It wasn’t uncommon for bucky to worship the ground you walked on, but for him to give such a compliment regarding a future family of your own, you couldn’t help but feel as though you had been personally escorted to paradise.

Unable to find the words to describe the joy and excitement you were feeling, you spoke the only words you could find it in yourself to say to him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He said.

“I want it all with you too, Buck.” You said, moving your hand to cup his cheeks, “And for the record- you would be a great dad. I know you put on the tough guy look for everyone else, but as the luckiest woman on the planet- I’ve seen the love you have in your heart. You would spoil those kids rotten with love.”

You watched as the very rare instance of blush coated Bucky’s cheeks. Still smiling- so much so it almost began to hurt- you pulled your boyfriend’s face towards yours, allowing your lips to meet his. Just as you were about to deepen the kiss however, you heard a loud whistle, sounding from behind Bucky.

Peeking behind Bucky, you saw Sam standing a few feet away, sleeves rolled up and hands on his hips.

“Hey!” Sam teased. “There’s kids here!”

“Thanks for ruining the moment, Sam.” Your boyfriend grumbled beside you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You watched as Sam, laughing, took a swig of the beer in his hand, the sun setting behind him.

“I’m just messing with you, man.” He said. “Are you two staying tonight?”

The two of you glanced at one another, wordlessly communicating while smiling- both knowing what the other was thinking.

“I think...” You began. “I think we’re gonna start a family.”

When the words slipped out of your mouth, you and Bucky couldn't help but gaze at each other in awe of the situation. You were really going to do this. You were going to start a family with one another. You could hardly believe it, but you also couldn’t be happier than you were in that moment.

In front of the two of you, however, still stood Sam who spit out his beer at the sound of your words.

“Not on my sister’s couch you’re not!”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic

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holdinbacksecrets · 2 years

Text

boyfriend things // voicemails

namjoon: “i need you to come home right now because i’m doing a newspaper crossword puzzle, and i am not a human thesaurus. also, breakfast is ready and i’m starving, but i can’t eat without you. i would feel so guilty, so this is me begging you to cut your bike ride a little short for the sake of my growling stomach and crossword puzzle determination… oh! please wake me up before you leave. i always panic when you’re not next to me, and get tour flashbacks of missing you”

jin: “i know i’m going to see you in two hours, but i wanted to call you because the sweetest thing just happened. two little girls were dancing to super tuna in the park, and someone— maybe their mom?? was recording them and started pulling out costumes from this giant tote bag. they were literally knitted tuna head hats. i nearly started crying. and i so badly wanted to say something, but no one knows we’re dating… anyway, it was adorable”

yoongi: “i hope you’re still at the grocery store because i forgot lemons for this lemon cake like a damn idiot. i have oranges… i guess i could make an orange cake instead?? but everyone is expecting lemon tonight, so please turn around and go back inside the store if you already left. i won’t even get mad if you scold me later!”

hoseok: “ohmygod… please help me. i’m literally standing in our closet trying to figure out what to wear to my work event tonight and… thank you for dating me despite having no fashion sense beyond jeans and t shirts. i know i look hot in jeans and t shirts, but knowing how to pair an outfit would be so nice. actually, maybe i should call your sister after this. ya, i’m going to do that, but i still want your opinion! maybe i’ll just send a mirror selfie... you’d think more of you would have rubbed off on me by now… but at least i’ve got the mirror selfie down”

jimin: “hi ahhh— excuse me! sorry— i missed my bus, and i just realized i forgot my wallet, so i’m running back home. i wish you would answer the phone… how many times have i told you to turn off do not disturb? you’re a working man with friends and family and me too by the way. but the point of this call was to let you know i’ll be late…lol. ok bye. i love you! turn off do not disturb!”

taehyung: “i know we already decorated the christmas tree and it’s literally days before christmas, but i want to change everything. i don’t know why i thought silver balls were the way to go. so now i’m just standing in front of the tree, hating it more the longer i look at it, and then scrolling through pinterest for better ideas. so i need you to either talk me out of this, or help me redecorate and play some jazz. yes, i have watched your little video more than a few times and now everyone thinks that’s a normal thing for you when it’s not. how dare you save something so beautiful for namjoon, then share with army and not me… when did you even film that?? i’m literally always home… oh i think you’re home now. taehyung!”

jungkook: “i am literally so embarrassed, but i can’t figure out where the hell i am. i took bam with me to get more of his food, and then i saw this really pretty garden, so i took some pictures. i thought i hadn’t gotten too far away from the pet store, but shit… i guess i have. i’ve tried to figure out directions three times, and i keep getting more confused. normally i can see at least one thing that looks familiar, but not anymore. also, i think i left the candle burning, so blow that out before you call me back. naps are a dangerous thing when your girlfriend is forgetful and bad with directions…”

check out the masterlist 🤍

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zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

me seeing the ask masterlist realizing most of them are mine : 🤡

BUT ANYWAYS

CONCERNING THE FAMILY DAY

THE SIBLINGS 🛐

i’m not saying that i have a crush on ace’s brother , cater’s sisters and sebek’s siblings because of that some fanart but that’s exactly what i’m saying

ACE’S MOM DESTROYING HER SON LIFE IN FRONT MC ? FORGET THAT ACE’S BROTHER CAME IN WITH THE RECEIPTS . HE HAS BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT AND 👏🏾HE 👏🏾IS 👏🏾PREPARED👏🏾

“hey did you know that ace used to looooove going around butt naked when he was younger ?” “DON’T YOU DARE-“ “here i have pictures , videos , posters and mugs printed of it-“

CATER’S SISTERS WOULD PROBABLY BE ALL OVER MC

“oh they’re so cute ~ !” “(new nickname)-chan ! do you wanna see some baby pics of cater ? look at this one he couldn’t quite stand on his legs and he-“ “HAHAHAHAHAA yeah so funny ! but would you like at the time it’s to go-“

sebek’s siblings would probably resemble their parents ? i see his sister being just like his mother and his brother as calm as his father ? ACTUALLY THE WHOLE ZIGVOLT COUPLE GIVE ME BAKUGOU’S PARENTS VIBES-

JACK’S LITTLE SIBLINGS-

I- THE LOVE I HAVE FOR THEM WHEN WE DON’T EVEN KNOW THEIR NAMES-

his brother is in middle school if i’m not wrong so just like all these AnGsTy teenage boys (and his brother-) he would be like “i-it’s not like i needed your help or anything o(｀ω´ )o” sure whatever rocks you boat-

HIS LITTLE SISTER WOULD BE LIKE CHEKA . THE MINUTE SHE SAW HER BROTHER SHE WOULD BE LIKE “hey big bro ! look i grew a lot since last time ! i’m a big girl now so i can go with you do luge next time ! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ” PLEASE SHE WOULD BE ADORABLE WITH THE EARS AND ALL DOWOWODKWOMEODMEKWOWKSOWKSDKSOWKEOEOOEE

TREY’S LITTLE SIBLINGS. you’re watching from afar as a flock of children come and proceed to pummel your friend to the ground-

they would be the kind of siblings that’s asks questions about everything and anything at any time i just know-

LETS NOT EVEN TALK ABOUT KALIM’S SIBLINGS BECAUSE ITS A FUCKING ARMY AT THIS POINT-

imagine this

in a dark room somewhere in nrc . multiples children are sat besides a round table with sunglasses on and glass of grape juice adult beverages in their hand .

Okay i don’t know how to write so that it would makes sense BUT BASICALLY ITS JUST A “MY BROTHER/UNCLE BETTER YOU POO BECAUSE HE-“

yes the same would happen with the older siblings i am convinced-

also don’t worry it wasn’t too long i’m happy it gave you inspiration-

ASK AND YE SHALL RECIVE!!!!

HONESTLY, SAME ANON!! I HAVE A BIG FAT CRUSH in Cater’s Sisters and Ace’s Brother (and Sebek’s, Azul’s & Deuces mamas) 😭😭😭

Sorry, but I'll do a hard pass writing for Kalim's mansion-full of siblings 🙇‍♀️ (plus I don't think Crowley would let 30+ kids-teens-toddles-babies come into NRC lol, maybe just the following 3 after Kalim) BUT INSTEAD!!! I hope you like the bonus character~

LOL THE FIGTH TO FIND OUT WHO'S BROTHER IS THE BEST, A CHAOTIC BATTLEFIELD FILLED WITH BABY PICTURES AND ANECDOTES OF ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND CUTE/STUPID/HEARTWARMING THINGS ALL OF THEM DID

-- -- -- --

MC attentively watched as skilled hands mix card in different flashy ways, while Ace sat beside them with a bored and irritated look on his face.

“This is your card!” The older redhead took a random card and showed it to MC. Sparkles shone in their eyes as they smiled a big bright smile, amazed at the card trick.

Ace interrupted the moment. “Oh, yeah, duh! The easiest trick there is! You just had to cast a simple spell that allows only your eyes to see which card [Name] picked highlighted in red!”

Big Brother Trappola looked at his sibling with an unamused face, MC mirroring the look at having their momentary joy crumbled like that. “Sure, a simple trick, but it was I who taught it to you. Don’t forget little Ace! You’re always following my steps~”

The heart suit boy sighed exasperatedly, shaking his head and looking some other way.

“Ah, he definitely is following a~ll your advices, Big Bro! Ace is always mentioning how you taught him many useful tricks for life!” MC became a little tattletale to antagonize their friend.

The Hearstlabyul student tensed, blushing as he looked at the other two. His sibling smirked, “Really now~? Oh, I didn’t know you loved me so much, baby bro! Say, [Name], let me tall you all my favorite stories of Ace when he was little! I even brought our old photo album for you to view! You can keep it if you like~” The aforementioned photo record appeared, “Look at this one! Ace used to wear his tighty whities like a superhero mask!”

At that, the 1st year tugged his friend away from his mischievous older brother, dragging them far away from his influences.

~°~ ~°~

“Cay-nii! Look look! We found your cute little friend before we could find you, and they were so kind to bring us here!” The younger of the two Diamond sisters waved at her brother. However, her arm remained linked with MC’s.

Cater looked scared, despair quickly painting his face. All his attempts to hide, ruined But now that his sisters had MC in their arms... He couldn’t run the risk of them embarrassing him in front of his crush.

“A-Ahaha..! Yeah, look at that..!” The orange haired boy awkwardly laughed, approaching the menace that were his sisters (with a cute, clueless MC between them).

MC spoke up with that bright smile on their face, "Your sisters are so lovely, Cater! I wouldn't mind having siblings as nice as these."

"Oh if only you knew, little Prefect." Cater though to himself.

The sisters looked at each other, then at their younger brother. "Is that so, [Name]-chan~?" The older one inquired, words drawled out in a playful yet dark tone. Oh no, Cater tensed at what they were planning.

Acting quickly, the girls dragged MC over to one of Heartslabyul's many couches. "You're always welcomed into the family, [Nickname]-chan!" "To show you you're a Diamond now, let us watch some of Cater's old baby pics! He was the most adorable little brother back then!"

The Heartslabyul student hurried up to his siblings, trying his best to ruin their "bonding" activity.

~°~ ~°~

The evening was nice, warm with a comfortable breeze... The surprising thing was that MC shared many laughs with Sebek and his siblings through the day.

They were nice, very nice! The girl was intense like their friend, while the boy was tamer, on the shy side.

They shared many stories about their family life: the fishing trips to catch salmon, what their parents were up to in the clinic and the new patients they got to work with (quite a colorful array, one must say), life in Valley of Thorns, tales of their magical awakening and how Sebek threw up when his magic woke up, funny stories of childhood games, and thought MC many songs!

With how much they butt heads with Sebek, MC wholeheartedly welcomed this wonderful day filled with happiness, shared with their friend and his siblings!

~°~ ~°~

A Magift practice match supervised by Leona

MC sat on the sidelines, a bouncing wolf pup sitting on their lap. The small child marveled at the highspeed tricks and plays of both teams. "Big Bro Jack!! Go go go, Big Bro Jack!!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, cheering her brother on.

At their side, an embarrassed sigh could be heard. Jack's little brother, who held striking resemblance with him (specially with that attitude), tried to hide away from onlookers' eyes after his sister's cheer.

But then...

Jack snatched the disk from the enemy team, sending it flying through the air with a mighty powerful flick from his magical pen and--!

"SCOOOOORE!!!!" Both young wolves screamed in happiness, tails wagging a couple times as their adrenaline kicked.

Leona laughed at the reaction. "Not so indifferent now, huh, squirt?" His hand ruffled the wolf boy's hair. The boy blushed at getting caught cheering like that.

A sudden snicker startled the siblings as they looked at the hyena beastman. "You resemble your brother a lot. I'm sure you could become as good of a player as Jack some day."

The little girl gasped in amazement, siblings looking at each other with excited sparkles in their eyes at the compliment the older of the two just received.

"Ah~, they're just as adorable as Jack!" MC gushed internally.

~°~ ~°~

"Trey-nii!" "Big Bro!" "Trey-Trey!" Many voices came their way, sounding excited about finally getting to see their beloved brother once more.

Trey chuckled nervously, "Here we go..." Suddenly, MC saw three little kids glomp their friend. Two hugged his legs while the other climbed up to cling to his torso.

"How have you been, big bro?" "Have you made friends?! Many friends?!" "Do you have sweets? I smell cake!" "Your house here looks funky!" "Can we go inside the big house, Trey-Trey?!" "Can I pick a pretty rose, Trey-nii? I really want a pretty rose!"

They fired multiple questions at their 3rd year friend. So young, so curious, a perfect embodiment of childhood...

MC giggled, "You never told me your siblings were so inquisitive. It's so cute!"

Their attention immediately turned to MC. In a hurry, they let go of Trey and approached the magicless human.

"You're a friend of Trey-nii, right?! Right?!" "You're pre~tty, no wonder Trey-Trey likes you!" "Hey, hey! Do you also have a big house like big bro?!" "Do you have any siblings? I wanna befriend my brother's friends' siblings!" "A pretty person like you deserves a pretty rose... Trey-nii! Can we pick roses to make a crown? Plea~se?!"

"Now now, let's not overwhelm [Name] in our first meeting, yes?" Trey's call silenced them in a second. "I do believe you must first introduce yourselves before asking so many questions to a stranger, don't you think?"

The trio looked to the ground and fidget with their clothes. "Yes, Big Brother Trey..."

The glasses wearing student shot an apologetic look to MC. "Why don't we go inside and get your introductions done, as well as your questions answered, over a slice of tart and a cup of tea? Sounds good? Maybe you can meet some other friends of mine, too."

The kids perked up, happy smiles brightening their faces as they nodded and took each of Trey's hands. The remaining child looked at MC, who smiled and stretched their hand for them to take before making their way into Heartslabyul dorm.

~°~ ~°~

"My Ruggie really did that?!" The old woman was surprised, wrinkled face showing her emotions.

MC affirmed with their head, "Yes, he's always helping me forage for herbs and tasty plants to use for meals! Really useful for cutting off expenses. He even taught me few recipes with said plants, recipes taught by you, Miss!"

Ruggie's grandmother smiled proudly. "He's such a nice soul, isn't he? Always bringing cans of food when he comes visit us to ensure the little ones back home have something to eat." She held MC's hand in both of hers, using the one on top to give the prefect's a couple taps.

"You treasure those recipes with your life, young one! And please," Her eyes were so gentle as she looked up at them, "Keep an eye out for my Ruggie, yes? He tends to overwork himself. Please, fulfill my role while I'm away from him, make sure he eats and sleeps well, that he stays hydrated and relaxes his mind. That is all I could ever ask from you."

MC's heart contracted with adoration at how kind this old lady was, a beautiful old soul still full of vigor.

They nodded, squeezing those calloused yet warm hands of hers.

Meanwhile, the eavesdropping hyena sniffled at the sweet moment between his grandmother and friend. He was deeply touched.

Two peopled he held dear to his heart were getting along swimmingly! More over, they just showed him they care equally as much about him as he does for them.

-- -- --

BUT WE ALL LOVE YOUR ASKS, ANON!!!!

KEEP BLESSING US WITH YOUR IDEAS!!!!

#zask #twisted wonderland #ace trappola #sebek zigvolt #cater diamond #jack howl #trey clover #ruggie bucchi

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harryhoney-bee · 3 years

Note

omg more uncle!harry but maybe it's where gemma is telling harry and anne she's pregnant!

Leo - uncle!h

A/n: omg I got so happy with this request because i thought no one would really like uncle!h, so here it is <3. I never played scrabble, so I'm sorry if the game doesn't make sense.

Summary: Gemma announces her pregnancy while the Styles family is playing scrabble.

Harry loved kids since he was a kid himself, he would always be the one watching out for his little cousins and helping the younger kids at school. That didn't change as the years went by. Everybody knew how caring he was with children, that's why he has three godchildren at the age of 24. His friends could all agree that Harry would do anything to be present in the children's life.

When Ruby was born in 2017 Harry was the happiest man alive, he would take her out on her baby carriage, she would be in his arms in the recording room. He was constantly sending Ruby's mother messages, asking for pictures of the small girl. He did all of that thinking about the day he would have his own kids.

On the Christmas of 2017, Harry and Anne were playing scrabble with Gemma and Michal, her husband. They were drinking hot chocolate while the grinch was on the tv, but no one was paying attention.

Anne picked up the little wooden pieces and connected them together, forming the word BRIGHT, next it was Michal's turn, he used the first B to form the word BABY.

"Baby? Really?" Harry asked laughing, "that's such a simple word, you could've made more points using another word instead."

Gemma rolled her eyes playfully. "I think you should take care of your own game."

Harry stuck his tongue out at her, which made Anne give him a 'mom stare'. "Be nice to your sister, H. If you let her use small words we have a big chance of winning."

It was Harry’s turn next time and he began a new word: LOYALTY.

He didn't miss when Gemma looked at Michal, giving him a side smile. She picked up the wooden letters, using the first L of Harry's word to form LEO.

"Hey, you know it's against the rules to form names," Harry said grumpily.

"Yeah, baby, why don't you write Lion instead?" Anne asked.

Mother and son looked confused at each other when Gemma and Michal got up from the floor they were sitting on, standing right in front of them, who were sitting on the couch.

Michal had the brightest smile on his face as Gemma gently placed a hand on her belly. "Well, I think you guys can break the rules a bit."

Anne and Harry stood in silence, staring at Gemma's tummy before turning to look at the couples' faces, the dots slowly connecting in their head.

"And why should we break the rules?" Harry asked warily.

"Maybe because that was your nephew's name that I just formed?" Gemma told him happily. "I’m pregnant!"

Anne started screaming happily the moment those words left Gemma's mouth, she got up from the couch, hugging her daughter and Michal. "Gemma, why didn't you tell me before? And how do you already know it's a boy? How many weeks?"

"Mom, calm down, we found out last month, so we decided to wait until we know about the gender, and well, it's a boy!" She said as Anne kissed her face.

"Our little Leo," Michal added. "It means lion-hearted and brave, we thought it would fit him perfectly."

Anne turned to Harry, smiling like never before, looking at her son, who was still processing all the news, "H, why are you quiet? You're an uncle! And I'm a grandmother." Realization hit the older woman.

Harry got up from the couch, hugging his mother as he stared at Gemma, "A-are you for real? You're really pregnant?"

Gemma rolled her eyes, "Yes you knob, want me to show you my blood test? We’re gonna have a new member of the family coming in May."

"Oh my God." That was the only thing Harry said before bringing the couple to hug alongside Anne. "I'm gonna be a fucking uncle!!"

"Shush, we won't let you around Leo if you keep on cursing, man," Michal teased.

Anne cleaned her tears and proposed for them to have some tea and biscuit since it was already 4 in the afternoon. Harry's face was filled with bliss, he could only think of the small life forming itself, just wanting to be loved.

Harry took a bite of his biscuits, turning his head at Gemma. "Can I please be the godfather? I'll do anything, I'll get his names tattooed on my arm tomorrow and–"

"We would never choose anyone else to be the godfather, you don't have to worry about that," Gemma interrupted him sweetly.

5 months later Leo was finally welcomed into the world, and Harry cried more than anyone else when he saw the small boy for the first time, he knew at that moment he and Leo would be best friends.

Tag list: @sunandherflores, @elenagilbert01 , @bellelittleoff @sunflowervolume66, @evanjh and @beachwood-cafe

#harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry stles fluff #harry styles fanfiction

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marauderundercover · 3 years

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

#maribat bruce wayne #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #maribat adrienette #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #maribat batfam #maribat dick grayson #maribat jason todd #maribat damian wayne #mbdbwm2021 #day five stories/memories #ao3fic

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Home Sweet Home

You bring Colson to your hometown for the first time.

Request: “Can you write a Colson imagine where you take him back to your hometown to meet your family and friends and he’s nervous everyone will hate him but everyone ends up loving him? And maybe include a run in with some girls from high school that are jealous 🤔🤷🏻‍♀️”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I try to be as inclusive as possible in my fics but its hard when writing about families in this capacity, so I just went with the most generic family model possible. Also, my family is very unusual so I don’t really know how families interact… oop

Word Count: 2979

“Will you stop freaking out, you’re making me nervous.” You placed a soft hand on the shaking leg of your boyfriend. “And they’re my family.”

He let out a sigh, the shaking stopping momentarily as he pulled you as close to him as possible in the back of your Uber. “What if your parents hate me?”

Taking a deep breath, you assured him again, “my parents are not going to hate you. We’ve been over this; they’re going to love you.”

“Your dad is going to take one look at me and punch me in the face.” Colson said, a pout on his face.

You let out a chuckle, “he is not. And even if he does, you can take a punch.”

Despite your laughter, Colson remained stoic, “I’m serious Y/N, dads hate me. I look like everything you’d want your daughter to avoid.”

A sigh left your lips at his admittance of insecurity. “Babe listen to me, please. My parents are going to love you because I love you. And if they don’t then tough shit because you’re not going anywhere.”

He nodded, but you could still see the worry behind his eyes. “I just really want them to like me. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”

You smiled at the comment, heart fluttering. “I’m in love with you.”

He looked at you deeply, a smile falling onto his lips, “and I’m in love with you, princess.” His lips pressed a small kiss against the crown of your head and rested there until the car pulled up to your childhood home. You felt your boyfriend tense up beside you, so you reached for his arm that was around your middle, rubbing soft shapes through the sleeves.

“I’m gonna be right next to you the whole night.” You told him as you moved to open the door, breathing in the refreshing air. LA was lovely, but it was nice to be able to breathe properly in your hometown.

Colson grabbed your bags out of the trunk, even though you insisted you could help. “Go say hi to your family, babe. I got it.”

You pressed a small kiss to his cheek, whispering a small “see you inside” before rushing to the familiar front door. Years of memories lie beyond its wood, memories you were excited to relive.

Knowing your family would keep it unlocked for you, you turned the knob and pushed the door open. The smell of your family’s cooking filled your nose, and immediately members of your family found you.

“Y/N!” Your younger cousins screamed, racing over to you to hug you. The last time you’d seen them they were 5 and 7, now they were 8 and 10.

“You guys have gotten so big! Did you drink some sort of magic potion or something?” You asked, a smile on your face.

Your mom had told you that she and your father would be cooking, but you didn’t think they’d invited your entire family. Although, you should have assumed they would given how close your family was.

Once your cousins let go of you, you turned around to see Colson waving off the Uber driver and making his way to the door. You turned to your younger cousins once he got close enough for them to see him. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Colson.” They gave small waves as you introduced them to Colson, who gave them a big smile.

“C’mon, babe. I’ll show you to our room.” You grabbed one of the bags from his hand, much to his dismay, and led him through the house. After you had moved to LA, your parents had turned your bedroom into the guest room, but some of the decorations from your younger years had remained on the walls.

Colson looked around the room, smiling as he thought of younger you growing up in here. “Is this a Bowie vinyl?” He asked, motioning to the vinyl record on the wall as he set your bags onto the bed.

You nodded, smiling wide. “Yep, got it for my 15th birthday. Signed and everything.” Your boyfriend nodded in appreciation as his eyes moved around the room. You wrapped your arms around his middle, cuddling into his chest. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest from how nervous he was. “You’re not gonna freak out and run off on me, are you?” You asked, a light humor in your voice.

Colson let out a dry chuckle, “no, I’ll be okay.” He mumbled, squeezing you closer to him. “But what if we just stayed in here forever?”

You slapped his chest playfully, “c’mon loser, you’re coming to meet my family whether you like it or not.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted with his free hand, making you giggle.

You made your way into the kitchen where your mom was standing with your aunts and sister. Her eyes lit up when she saw you, “you made it!” She came over and gave you a tight hug, “How was the flight?” She asked.

“It was fine, we slept most of the way.” You smiled before turning to Colson. “Mom, this is Colson, you’ve met him over facetime a couple times now, remember?”

She smiled moving to pull him into a hug. He had a shocked look on his face but reciprocated the hug. You mouthed “sorry” to him, giggling silently. He just smiled and shook his head, letting you know he was okay.

“Of course, I remember! She talks about you all the time.” You blushed as Colson smiled proudly. “You’re much taller in person.” Your mom noted, making you and Colson chuckle.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Your sister cleared her throat, grabbing your attention, “right! Colson, this is my sister and my aunts.”

They each introduced themselves politely. You told them you were going to go outside to find your dad and brothers. Before you left your sister pulled you to the side and whispered in your ear, “okay, I knew LA was full of hot guys, but how’d you manage to pull that?”

You laughed out loud, “Y/S/N! That’s so mean!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” She laughed, but then whispered again, “but seriously, god damn.”

You rolled your eyes, “next time I’ll bring you one back.” She giggled, nodding in encouragement.

You took Colson’s hand, ignoring his quizzical look, and led him to your backyard. “That wasn’t too bad, right?” You checked in on him.

He sighed, “no, but moms are never bad. If moms don’t like you, they’ll say it in secret. Dads will say it to your face.”

“My mom loved you, and so will my dad. Just trust me.” You smiled, squeezing his hand.

You found your dad sitting on a lawn chair with your grandparents. Your brothers were throwing a football around with some of your older cousins and uncles. You greeted the three in lawn chairs, your dad standing up to give you a hug.

“Hey, Y/N/N. How are you?” Your dad asked.

“I’m good! Glad to be home!” You smiled.

Your grandpa grunted, “you should never leave, then.”

You chuckled, leaning down to give both him and your grandma hugs. “You’ll be so sick of me in three days, you’ll be begging me to leave.”

Once you stood up straight, you motioned to Colson, “This is my boyfriend, Colson. You’ve kind of met him before, Dad.”

Your dad reached out his arm for Colson to shake, earning him a strong nod. “Strong grip. I like him.” Your dad looked towards you. You could tell he didn’t remember meeting Colson on facetime, but you hadn’t expected him to.

“Grandpa, you’ll like this. Colson knows all four members of Motley Crue.” You smiled, winking at your boyfriend.

The older man looked impressed, “really? I was a roadie on the Theatre of Pain tour.”

Colson nodded, a smile on his face. “I played Tommy Lee in their biopic and then, uh, we recorded a song together.” You grinned proudly as the two talked about their experiences with the band.

Your dad put a hand on your shoulder, shaking you lightly, “You happy?” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “yeah. He’s a good guy, trust me.”

Your dad nodded, “oh, I can tell. Just wanted to make sure.” You thanked him, watching your boyfriend interact with your family. “Now you gotta introduce him to your brothers.” He chuckled at your sigh.

“Do I have permission to punch them if they act like assholes?” You asked, only kind of joking.

Your dad pushed you towards the lawn, “I see nothing.” You smile, grabbing Colson’s hand and leading him away from your grandpa once they’d finished their conversation.

“Okay, so I knew you were freaking out about my parents, so I didn’t want to freak you out even more.” You started, causing a panic look to cross Colson’s face. “My brothers are…” you searched for the words, “assholes. But like, loveable assholes. But they’re probably gonna give you shit, but it’s out of love. But I have no problem hitting them if you want me to.” You smiled.

He raised an eyebrow, “normally I’d say that’s my job but I feel like it’d be easier for your family to forgive you than me.” You laughed, pulling him to the guys and introducing him.

It turns out, your brothers actually really liked Colson, which was somehow worse than them hating him. Because it meant that they stole him from you. When you went back inside to talk more with your mom, your brothers demanded Colson stay outside with them. He seemed happy, so you let him stay, excited that your family was taking to him so well.

An hour later, dinner was almost ready, so your brothers started to set up the folding tables outside, which Colson gladly helped with. You were helping your mom finish up the last of the food, watching your best friend and soulmate through the window with adoration. He was helping your younger cousin put the tablecloth on the table, the scene reminding you of the time Casie and him took you out for a picnic on your birthday. You couldn’t wait to bring her here.

“You chose a good one.” Your grandma commented from behind you, making you jump a little bit. Once you registered her words, you blushed, mumbling out a thank you. “I can tell he really loves you. A granny can always tell.”

You smiled, “I really love him, too.” You turned back to check on him, catching his eye. He sent you a bright grin, making your grandma pat you on the shoulder before walking back to your mom to help her.

The rest of the night was magical, Colson by your side the entire time. Eventually most of your family left, leaving you and Colson to go to bed. You cuddled into his side, a smile on both of your faces. “They all love you, y’know?”

He hummed in response, squeezing your waist. “I love you.”

You chuckled, “you’re so fucking cheesy.”

The next day you were determined to take Colson on a tour of your town, starting with the skate park you spent almost every day at in high school. “We would’ve been best friends when we were kids.” He said as you dragged him through the park.

“We’re best friends now.” You chuckled, pausing to press a kiss to his lips.

He hummed, “I think we’re a little more than best friends but okay.” You rolled your eyes, pulling him further into the park until you spotted a familiar face.

“Little Benny?” You asked, your face lighting up. The younger guy’s eyes widened, running up to you.

“Y/N?” he asked, pulling you in for a hug.

You chuckled, “You were like, 12 the last time I saw you, what the hell?”

The man laughed along with you, “well you were the one who ran off to LA miss big-time producer.”

You smiled, realizing he had probably checked up on you. Benny was about 7 years younger than you and had looked up to you almost his whole life. Seeing him so grown up was a strange experience for you.

You noticed him glancing to Colson, his eyes going wide. “You’re-“

You laughed, “Benny this is Colson, my boyfriend. Also known as-“

“Machine Gun Kelly!” The younger boy exclaimed, making Colson chuckle.

He reached out his hand, which Benny gladly shook, “nice to meet you, man.”

“Kells, this is Benny, my friend from high school. I taught him how to skate.”

“More like your protégé.” A female voice said. Behind Benny came Deanie, another girl his age you had taught. Benny’s arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him.

You smiled at the two, knowing Benny had liked her since he was in middle school. “Hi Deanie.” You said, the girl smiling back at you. “This is Colson, my boyfriend.”

“Are you gonna skate?” She asked, eyes going wide.

You sighed, shaking your head, “sorry, guys. Maybe later, I’m just showing Colson around the town right now.”

Deanie and Benny both pouted, “damn, she goes off to Hollywood and forgets all about us.” Benny joked, making you all laugh.

You grabbed Colson’s hand, “We’ll see you guys later!” You waved, pulling the man away from the couple.

“It was nice to meet you!” He said, making you smile. “You seriously taught him how to skate?”

You nodded as you continued your trek to the diner you used to work at. “Yep, I taught most of the kids how to skate, although I guess they’re all his age now.”

Colson grinned, “so you’re, like, a legend here.” He commented, but you shook your head, laughing.

“No, I was a loser.”

“Not to those two, you’re not.” He said, swinging your intertwined hands. You rolled your eyes but didn’t say anything further.

You finally arrived at the small diner you used to work at. About 50 feet away from the door, Colson’s phone buzzed. “Shit, Slim’s calling.”

“Take it, I’ll grab a table and you can meet me inside.” He smiled thankfully, answering the call as you walked inside.

You immediately spotted Wesley, the cook you’d known since you were 16, through the order window. The smell of the diner was familiar, and for a moment you felt like you were walking in for a shift. You leaned against the bar, “Hey, Wes!” You called, drawing the cook’s eye.

“Little miss Y/N! Is that really you?” You smiled at the old man.

“It sure is! How’s the diner?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You giggled at his response. Wes had opened the diner in the 90’s and swore he’d burn with the building.

You grabbed a booth in the corner, just in case there happened to be any peering eyes in your small town.

Unfortunately, your table was in Liza’s section, a girl who’d hated you since you were kids. You found it quite funny that she was still working at the diner after all this time, silently thankful that you’d gotten out of the town.

She scowled when she saw you but walked over anyways. “What happened? Strike out in Hollywood and now you’re back here trying to get your job back?”

Her voice was just as annoying as it had always been. “Or did your rich sugar daddy dump your ass and now you’re home begging for money?”

You wanted nothing more than to slap the smirk off her face, but you refrained. “Actually-“ You started, but you got cut off by your boyfriend.

“You have a sugar daddy and didn’t tell me about it? Babe I would’ve helped you scam him for so much more.” He smiled, sitting across from you, and grabbing your hand that was resting on the table.

Upon realizing who was sitting across from you, Liza stiffened. “You’re-“

“Y/N’s boyfriend, nice to meet you.” He smiled, an evil glint in his eyes.

“Machine Gun Kelly!” Liza said, her squeaky voice making you cringe.

“I prefer Colson, but yeah.” He sighed, looking back over to see your annoyed expression.

Liza looked between the two of you, a look at disgust on her face. “Seriously? Why the hell are you going out with her? You could do so much better.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock at her blunt rudeness. Colson’s jaw clenched as he spoke, “what, like you?”

The girl shrugged, not catching the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. “I’m just saying, I don’t know what she’s told you but she’s a talentless bitch whose probably only dating you for money or fame, or both.”

Luckily, Wes came out to the front of the house to greet Colson, stopping him from punching a girl in the middle of the restaurant. “Nice to meet you, man. I’m Wes, owner, cook, and the best boss Y/N has ever had.” Colson shook his hand, still glaring at Liza.

“Yep.” You agreed with the man. Your voice was soft to calm Colson down, which worked a little bit.

Colson shot the man a grin, “nice to meet you, Wes. Y/N talks about this place all the time.”

The look of pride on Wes’s face was unforgettable. “Well, if you two need anything, just let me know.��

Colson looked towards Liza, annoyance returning to his features, “do you think we could get a new waiter?”

You almost laughed seeing the look of shock on her features, but Wes happily obliged, handing your table over to a newer waitress. Liza had steam coming out of her ears, but you ignored her.

“Thank you.” You muttered. “She’s hated me since we were kids.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah I could tell. Couldn’t have her talking shit like that.” He squeezed your hand, “now, what’s good here?”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine #colson baker x reader

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sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Drunk Antics

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 5.8k | College AU

Summary: After being caught having sex with your previously virgin boyfriend, you thought Mark and your brother Johnny would never get along. That is until your boy comes back to your room in the drunkest state he’s ever been after a short trip to the bar with his Johnny-hyung, asking you to try new tricks he’s learned from the Master of Sex.

Sort of a continuation from Our First Time but can be read separately.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, drunk unprotected sex. For the sake of the very little plot there is, Mark is intoxicated in this fic so his consent may be unclear. Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

“You forgot that you borrowed his AirPods?!” Your boyfriend is shrieking in whispers, doe eyes shaking in fear and horror as he kneels on your bed, trying to shamelessly hog every inch of your blanket to cover his body.

Mark is so drowning in panic that he doesn’t even notice that you, in fact, are still naked. “I was going to use them before to work on my assignment,” you try to reason, “but then you came so I kind of forgot about them.”

“Kind of?!” He screeches. “I agreed to have sex with you because I thought you were sure that he had his AirPods on!”

You stare at him flatly. “You’re making me feel like I just took advantage of you.”

“I am feeling like you just took advantage of me!”

“You just lost your virginity, I think you have to thank me instead.”

“Babe,” Mark grabs both of your shoulders, staring with wide eyes as if there’s a ghost lurking behind your back but he’s trying his best to calm you down (though he’s pretty much shitting his own pants). “You should’ve remembered that you took his AirPods. He heard us.”

“Mark,” you imitate his tone mockingly, taking a hold of his shoulders in the same manner. “It would’ve been super weird if I thought about my brother when I have my hot boyfriend rubbing his dick against my ass.”

Distracted, a sheepish smile forms on his face. “You think I’m hot?” But he shakes himself awake on the next second, going back to yanking out his hair with both hands. “No, wait—what am I going to do—your brother heard us having sex—I can’t—”

“I heard my brother having sex all the time.” You shrug nonchalantly. “Sometimes even when he’s alone in his room, which is gross.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT—”

“Guys?” Johnny’s knocks on the door are becoming more impatient. “I swear to God, if you two go back to sucking each other off, I’m going to throw Mark under the bus and run him over myself.“

Mark’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Did you hear that?!”

You roll your eyes in response, reaching out to the table beside your bed and snatch Johnny’s AirPods from inside the drawer. “Here,” you hand it over to Mark.

Your boyfriend reacts as if you just handed him a bowl of hot lava and he fumbles with his hands, shoving the AirPods back to you with so much horror in his eyes. “Why are you giving me this—no—no—”

“Mark, honey.” You gently smile, pushing the thing back in the most motherly way you can manage. “I’m covered in cum—your cum, in case you forgot—and you’re hogging all the blanket—“

“No—”

“Also, I’m sweaty and gross. Can you please be a man for once and let me take my shower? You can still join me afterward.”

“Babe!” You can tell he’s about to throw up out of fear but he’s just so cute, you can’t help but keep teasing him about it. “This is not fair—he’s going to kill me! And what do you mean ‘for once’, am I—“

“Okay, guys, any day now.” Your brother, Johnny, calls again from the other side of the door. “If one of you don’t come out and hand me back my AirPods in the next ten seconds, I am literally going to call the police.”

Mark nearly jumps out of his own skin. “What?!”

“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” you shout back, mouthing calming words to your boyfriend who looks like he’s seconds away from fainting. “You’re not going to do that and we both know it!”

“But I am going to call our Mom.”

“That he might do,” you say, wincing a little at Mark. “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You lean forward to give him a peck on his cheek. “Good luck, babe.” And you sprint off to the bathroom inside your room, all while holding out your best not to cackle loudly.

“Where are you going—Baby, get back here!” You can hear Mark protesting in whispers, but you just send him flying kisses and a wink, and shut the bathroom door behind you.

Mark’s soul is leaving his body, he can feel it. And that’s okay, because Johnny is going to kill him anyway. But when the older man really starts to count to ten, Mark jumps out of the bed, tripping approximately three times as he tries his best to dress himself back in his own clothes while muttering the words “shit” and “fuck” repetitively under his breath.

When he’s sure he looks less fucked than before, Mark opens the door, breathing hard as if he just did the worst workout in his life.

“H-hey,” Mark starts, attempting to throw his best look-at-me-I’m-a-good-boy-who-did-not-just-fuck-your-sister-when-you-were-around smile at the other man. “How’s it going, man?” His voice breaks in the middle of his line and he winces as he tries to calculate the least painful death options he can commit.

Johnny unenthusiastically gazes back at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m… smiling at you?”

“Don’t. You look like a serial killer.”

“S-sorry, I’m—“ Mark’s eyes start searching everywhere but Johnny’s eyes as he feels his own feet turning into jelly. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?” Johnny places his hands inside the pocket of his jeans, looking way too intimidating for your boyfriend to handle. “Because you just had sex with my sister while I’m in the house?”

Mark’s jaw is almost dislocating from his face from how wide he opens his mouth. “I—I, umm—“ He clears his throat, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead. “S-so, you really heard us, huh?” He tries to laugh it off, which he soon regrets from the way Johnny’s eyes are throwing daggers at him.

“Yeah, well,” Johnny shrugs, “My ears don’t have on-and-off buttons that I can switch whenever I want. I used to have my AirPods to do that job, but she borrowed them to help her concentrate while doing her assignment.” He gives out a sly grin, almost mockingly. “Little did I know that her assignment was you.”

If he didn’t feel like dying before, Mark is sure as hell feeling it now. “I’m so sorry—I swear, she told me you had them—I also thought you were downstairs—“

“Yeah, I do go upstairs from time to time, you know, ‘cause my room is over there,” he dully replies, nudging his head to the end of the corridor, where his room is located next to yours.

Mark’s entire body shudders in horror. “Dude, I didn’t know—I thought that was a storage room—oh God—”

“Don’t call me dude. I’m not your dude.”

“Fuck—sorry, you’re right—I’m—“ He’s hyperventilating by this point. “Is there any place in this house where I can kill myself?”

“You can try jumping off my balcony,” Johnny answers in the most casual way that Mark begins to question whether he’s really being serious about it.

“G-great, I’ll put that in my options,” is all Mark has to say. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny yawns, offering one hand to the other man which Mark stupidly enough stares in confusion before he takes a hold of it and gives it a sweaty handshake. Johnny switches his gaze from Mark’s face to their hands before he brings back to stare at him straight in the eyes and says, “My AirPods, you idiot.”

“FUCK—“ Mark is so embarrassed that he stumbles on his feet, knocks the side of his head against the door frame, and does a silent scream when the pain jolts to his entire body.

“Man, I wish I had my phone ready to record all of that,” Johnny comments.

Mark is too much in pain to recognize his mumbling. He fumbles with the AirPods in his hand, shoving them to Johnny’s chest. “Shit, I don’t know why I thought you wanted a handshake—here—oh my God—I’m so sorry—“

Even Johnny seems a little bit amused at his antics by this point. “Thanks,” he says, tucking the AirPods inside the pocket of his jeans. “You have some time to spare?”

Mark gulps. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Not until the end of the day.” Johnny says, and Mark laughs a little bit too loud and a little bit too hard and by the way Johnny smiles, he still can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. “Come on, let’s go have a drink.”

“Umm I-I don’t think I should—“

“Not a request, Mark.”

“Yes sir, on my way!” And he knocks himself once again against the door frame as he rushes forward to follow his steps.

“Also, Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Your shirt’s inside out.”

***

“Mark?” Your voice is answered by the silence of your room. You’re feeling a little bit dizzy from the hot shower you just took. You took a bit long in the bathroom, waiting for Mark to come and join you with a cute pout on his lips and tears in his eyes (that’s how you imagined him to be anyway) but your boyfriend, it turns out, was not even in your room. You put on your clothes—a knitted navy blue sweater with sleeves a little bit too long for your arms and a simple pair of jeans—and head downstairs, searching your house but nobody comes to answer. Sighing, you go back to your room and try to call his cellphone but immediately feel disappointed when his ringtone comes from under the bed.

“Great, he forgot his cellphone,” you mutter to yourself, picking his phone up and throws it on the bed. “Did he really run home without telling me?” The image of Mark panicking and running away from your house like his life depends on it sure does look like it’s something he does out of shame. But judging by how great your previous sex activity was, you figure that he’s probably going to go back to you sooner or later. He also has his phone to retrieve anyway.

So it’s time for you to actually get some work done. There’s no other reason for you to run away from your goddamn thesis and the day is getting late. After having some ramyun for dinner, you finally begin working on your assignment.

It’s hard to start, but a few minutes after you get your head to it, you start losing track of time. You’re finally done with your work (most of it anyway), already closing your laptop and place it back on your backpack, when your door abruptly swings open, showing your boyfriend’s face with the biggest grin on his face.

“Baby, I’m home,” he says in a sing-song voice, a bit slurry and a little high pitched. Before you can say anything—too busy trying to figure out how high he is judging from the dopey look on his face—Mark is giggling and walks closer to you. “You know,” he says, placing a hand on your desk and leaning close enough for you to know that he reeks of alcohol. “I just had the greatest day of my life today. And it’s all because. of. you.” He pokes your nose repetitively between every word.

“Mark—“

“Are you hungry? I’m hungry. Do you want some pancakes, because man, I’d love some pancakes—“

“What, are you drunk?” The answer is obvious but you ask anyway.

“No, I’m Mark.” He grins, chuckling at his lousy joke.

“You are so drunk.”

“And you,” he snickers, pinching one of your cheeks, “are so cute~”

You swat his hand away. “Where have you been?”

“I went to a bar with your brother,” he giggles again, playfully massaging your shoulders. “He’s so coooool~”

“What?!”

“Yeah, he’s, like, so tall and, like, so fit.” You can’t believe you’re hearing your boyfriend fangirling over your brother. “And he knows a lot of stuff—like, a lot a lot.”

You certainly have to kick Johnny in the shins after this. “How—why—I thought you were—“

“Babe, you’re rambling.”

You can’t believe you’re turning into him, so you clear your throat and try again. “How drunk are you exactly?”

“Drunk enough to know that this,” he stops to pick up the fishbowl you placed on the bedside table—where Marky the Goldfish is sleeping with its eyes open—and lifts it up to his face, “water cannot be drunk but drunk enough to contemplate about doing it.”

You make a face. “Leave Marky alone.”

“Why did you name it after me?”

“Because it’s dumb. Like you.”

“Huh, can’t really argue with that.” He snorts, placing the fishbowl back to the table and tripping on his feet as he does so—spilling some water from the side but thank God, your fish is safe and alive, though probably also a little bit drunk because of that sudden… turbulence.

“Oops,” he giggles, “Sorry, Marky.” He doesn’t look regretful in the slightest. You stare at him in silence, unconsciously judging him with all you have and usually, he would start becoming nervous and fumbling with his words but now, he just looks at you like you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and rushes forward.

“Man, I love you.” He tackles you into a hug, almost sending you toppling down your chair, “I love you so much. Have I said that today?”

This is certainly not the way you imagined your first confession to be like, especially coming from Mark who’s usually shy and too childish to admit his feelings. “No, you haven’t,” you retort. “Ever.”

“What, really?” His eyes are perfectly round and wide, actually surprised about it. “Shit, I’m sorry. Come here.” He pulls you up to your feet, cradling you into his arms, hands flailing all over your body before they finally rest on your waist. “I can’t believe we had sex and I didn’t even tell you that. I’m so sorry.” He leans back, putting some space between you so he can stare directly into your eyes. “I love you. I’ve always been for a while. I’m so in love with you that I can barely concentrate whenever you’re around.”

You wish he wasn’t drunk out of his mind because those words, those lines, could have been so romantic but even though he looks romantic, you’re not sure whether he’s being one hundred percent conscious about it.

“Okay, let’s talk about this again when you’re sober.” You tap his cheek with one hand and pinch it when he whines. “Have you even taken a shower yet?”

“Yeah, this morning.” He smiles dreamily at you, kissing the inside of your palm. You can’t believe how bold and greasy he becomes when he’s drunk. “And yesterday. And the day before that. And—”

“Okaaaay.” You shut him up by placing your hand above his mouth, which he licks like a little puppy, earning a surprised yelp from you. “Mark!”

“Babe!” He imitates before throwing himself to the bed, laughing at your face. “Come here, join me in my bed.”

“That’s my bed.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

You exhale loudly, rolling your eyes. “I don’t think you can go home at this state. Your mom would kill me.”

“But I’m already home,” he says, crawling toward you until he kneels at the edge of the bed, face to face with you. “Home is wherever the heart is, right? And my heart is with you.”

You curse yourself inwardly for having your heart flutter at his embarrassing line and you hate yourself even more when he notices you’re blushing.

“Whatever. Just take a shower and get some sleep.” You walk back to your desk, flipping around the pages of your textbook. “I still have two chapters to read.”

You can hear your boyfriend huffing behind you, but try your best to ignore him. It’s an impossible feat, it turns out, when Mark sneaks up behind you, circling his arms around your shoulders and peppers few kisses down the side of your neck.

“Mark—“

“You smell so good.” He inhales deeply, burying his nose in the strands of your hair. Standing up, you turn around to face him so you can protest and push him away but the look on his face makes you freeze.

“You’re so cute,” he says, running his hand up from the curve of your neck to cup your cheek. “And You’re so pretty. And hot. You’re so…” He begins staring at your lips, eyes unfocused. “Hot.”

You can tell it’s coming but when he kisses you, almost hungrily, it feels like he’s snatching your breath away. “Mark, wait—”

“Not waiting,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling your hand over his shoulder so you’re forced to lean your entire weight against his chest. Mark’s calloused hands travel down your body, wrapping both against the back of your thighs and lifts them up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You follow his lead though still not entirely convinced that you should continue this.

Mark kicks your sliding chair away with one leg and places you down on your desk. He roughly pushes all your papers and textbooks to the end of the table, making enough space where you can sit facing him, with your legs tangling around his waist.

You have spent a decent amount of time kissing Mark over the months you’ve been dating, but only now that you have the chance to kiss him when he’s drunk and you’re aware just how much you’ve been missing.

The drunk version of Mark Lee unexpectedly kisses much more slowly compared to the sober version of Mark Lee, and if you thought fast, passionate kisses were hot, then these slow, deep kisses are sending actual shivers down your spine.

Mark has his right hand cupping your cheek, rubbing comforting circles on your skin with his thumb, while his other one is around your waist, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of your sweater. He angles your head to the side, and his parting lips fit like a perfect puzzle piece with yours. There’s a shy trace of his tongue along your bottom lip, as he nibbles at it slowly and he lets out this small moan as he does it as if it’s something he’s been wanting to do for years and just finally able to do it now.

He tastes like alcohol and you’re not particularly fond of it but the more he kisses you, the more you think it doesn’t matter because he still somewhat tastes like how Mark usually does and you always love the way he tastes on your tongue.

He drags your chin down with his thumb, tasting you a little bit deeper and as he presses his hips against yours, his breathing becomes ragged and you just realize that you probably have a kink for all of this stuff because holy mother of God, this is just so hot.

“Mark,” you sigh as he moves away to kiss your ear, warm lips pressing against your earlobe. He hums in a low, breathy voice that you’ve never heard him do and it makes your stomach flip. “Mark, you’re drunk.” It’s more like a reminder to yourself because you know that as the sober one, you have to put a stop to this but what can you do when he has his tongue tracing against your skin and his soft moans vibrating through your ears?

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away a little so you can see his eyes and fuck, it’s the biggest mistake you’ve made today—bigger than forgetting that you borrowed Johnny’s AirPods. His eyes are half-lidded, utterly filled with lust and the way he licks his bottom lip as he stares at you has you breathless. He leans closer, as if he’s about to kiss you again, and whispers, “Don’t you want me?”

You remember that you said the same thing earlier to him that day and it makes you think how karma is a fucking bitch. You secretly wonder whether you have the same effect on him because Mark is being so irresistible right now and he successfully makes you throw all of your reasoning to the back of your head.

“Fuck this,” you claim under your breath, pulling him down to you by the neck and crush your mouth together. You can feel your boyfriend smiling into the kiss, and the sounds of your wet kisses make your heartbeat go crazy.

“Take off your shirt,” you command, already grabbing the end of his shirt and struggling as you try to pull it over his head. Mark helps, chuckling a little bit and when it’s off, he has his lips against your neck again. His teeth are prickling against your skin, sucking it until it’s bruised and you have to remind yourself to be angry about it later—because you have classes tomorrow and what if anyone sees that nasty hickey on your neck?—but right now, you just want him to mark you over and over again.

Mark starts to unbutton your jeans, pulling the zipper down and you use your free hand and legs to shake your pants off. It’s not easy, and you almost kick your boyfriend in the face while doing so, but he laughs it off and kisses you again. You can tell how hard he is when he presses himself against you, and you’re eager to put him out of his misery but he suddenly pulls away, saying, “Wait, let me do this first,” and he kneels on the floor, his face right between your legs.

You can feel your breath hitched when he runs his fingers on the inside part of your thighs, his lips follow soon after. He slips his fingers around the edge of your panties and pulls them down. You suddenly feel so exposed to the way he’s looking at you so you pull the end of your sweater down, trying to cover your thighs as much as you can.

“Why are you so shy?” Mark says, taking your hand away and pressing his lips against your palm. His eyes never leave yours and they twinkle in the most teasing way. “You weren’t shy about this before.”

“Stop looking at it too much,” you reply nervously, can’t help but to blush about it. “I feel weird.”

Mark chuckles, airily and soft. “Sorry, I just didn’t have the chance to really see you before,” he explains, one hand unconsciously rubbing your thigh, trying to calm you down. “Can I eat you out?”

Sober Mark will definitely not say anything like this—hell, sober Mark will probably faint just thinking about saying stuff like this—which is why you’re becoming even more nervous and excited at the same time.

“Baby?” Mark calls, smiling softly. “I kind of asked you a question.”

Fuck me. “Yes,” you breathe out, and you realize he was just messing with you before but who the fuck cares right now.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Mark, please.” You can hear yourself whining and you hate yourself for it, but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Please eat me out, Mark.”

He smiles in the sexiest way that you don’t think it’s possible—like seriously, who is this guy?—biting his lower lip as he does so and if he keeps doing that, you figure he doesn’t even have to eat you out to make you come undone.

He presses his lips near your heat, whispering, “Good girl,” before he places his mouth on the exact spot you want him to be.

“Fuck,” you hiss, biting your own lip as you see his head move between your legs. Mark has his eyes closed, repeating what he has learned earlier that day and does the thing you like the most. When he locks his eyes with yours, you almost choke out a sob.

“Mark,” you try to keep your voice down in whispers but Mark is so good that it feels much easier to work on your goddamn stupid thesis rather than holding back your moan.

“Mmm.” The way he moans at the back of his throat as if he’s having the best time of his life makes you weak and you press your thighs together without knowing. Mark places his hands on each side of your thighs and spreads your legs wide apart, allowing himself to be even closer and making you feel way more exposed. You have to grip your desk with both hands to keep yourself from falling.

“Okay, no, stop—“ You find yourself breathing hard, pushing him back by the shoulder and he raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Was it not good?” He asks and you curse inwardly.

“Mark,” You grab him by the silver necklace he has around his neck, pulling him up so you’re face-to-face. “I’m about to come, what do you think?”

“Really?” He looks impressed with himself. “Then, why did you stop me?”

You tangle your legs around his waist, bringing him close and grind your hips against his. “You know why.”

Mark’s thin lips part in a silent moan, whispering, “Fuck,” under his breath but he tries to keep his composure. “No, I don’t,” he says, teasing you though he doesn’t look like he’s able to hold himself back long. “Babe, I literally just lost my virginity a few hours ago. You have to tell me what you want.”

“Mark.”

“Babe.”

You scowl at him and scowl harder when he has this shit-eating grin on his face, and if your eyes could throw daggers, he’d be in so much pain right now. But Mark is making a sound between a giggle and a snort, which is rather cute but you still kick him in the stomach for playing with you at a time like this. “Mark, come on! I want you to fuck me!”

He takes a hold of your thigh, leaning down to place kisses under your ear. “And where do you want me to fuck you, exactly?” He whispers, purposely making an mmm sound as he sucks on your earlobe. “Should we move to the bed?”

“No, fuck, just do it here.” You unbuckle his belt, pushing his jeans and boxer down to around his thighs, low enough for you to stroke his member and position it toward your entrance. “Mark, just put your cock inside me.”

It seems like he’s beginning to lose his mind over how desperate you are actually begging him. You guide him toward you, making sure he’s not doing anything wrong and when he pushes inside, you just have to bite on his shoulder to muffle your moan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, eyes closing shut as he grips on your thighs, nails sinking into the skin almost painfully. “I couldn’t remember whether you were you this tight before but—oh God—”

His movements are still a bit sloppy, but soon he finds the pace you both like and maintains it. When he sees you throwing your head back in pleasure, he grins to himself and lifts your sweater up to your chest. You help him take it off, unclasping your bra with so much effort as he continues pounding into you.

He’s so consumed by the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down matching his thrusts until he can’t take it anymore. “Babe, can I go a little bit rough?”

“Wha—fuck!” It’s your luck that you don’t slam your head against the wall from the sudden force Mark is thrusting into you. He has his mouth on your breast, moving his hips much quicker than before, and moaning your name several times under his breath. The desk is clearly making a sound as it bumps against the wall but you don’t care—your parents are out of town and Johnny already heard you two before anyway. You can just apologize to him tomorrow.

Mark suddenly changes position, lifting one of your legs up in the air while keeping the other down so he can slide in deeper. “Johnny-hyung told me to try this,” he says with a smirk on his face. He’s breathing quite hard, just like you. He kisses the side of your ankle once before he lays your leg on his shoulder. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

When he moves his hips again, with so much force that you have to hold on to the table, you’re pretty much just screaming his name. Mark’s bangs are sticking to his skin as beads of sweat start to form on his temple, and he pushes his hair back with one hand, chanting your name like a prayer and recording every expression you make in his mind.

You can handle his movements but you’re sure the skin around your waist is going to bruise tomorrow from how hard he’s holding you. You’re getting distracted by the way the muscles on his abs flex with every movement that it catches you off guard when he suddenly says, “I love you,” between his soft moans. You shudder at his words, leaning forward to wrap your fingers around his arm, begging for support. “Mark, you’re not fair—“ The rest of your sentence dies when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

It’s a little bit embarrassing for you, the much more experienced one, to come undone before he does but Mark doesn’t stop, even if you beg him to. “Hold on to me,” he says, smashing his lips against yours and adding, “Just a little bit more, baby,” between kisses.

When he’s finished, your back and legs are aching so much that he has to carry you onto the bed. Mark shakes his pants off before he slides under the blanket next to you. He asks whether you want to shower and you shake your head. “Tomorrow. I can barely stand right now, to be honest,” you comment which earns a light chuckle from him.

You both sigh out loud, staring at the ceiling and trying the process what the fuck just happened.

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I know it’s bad for your health, but do you think you can get drunk more often?”

He giggles at that, turning to his side so he can face you. He looks so sleepy and you let him caress your face with his fingers with the little energy he has left. “Thank you for today,” he says, smiling dreamily. He leans closer to press your temples together, rubbing the tip of his nose to yours in a childish manner before he kisses you softly. He drifts off to sleep soon after.

When you wake up the next morning, still naked and gross from the night before, you realize that yes, small purplish bruises are forming on the skin of your thighs, waist and for sure, your neck. You look to your right, seeing your boyfriend still sleeping soundly with his stomach pressed against your bed and his lips slightly parted. You don’t have the heart to wake him up, but your parents can come home anytime soon and they cannot catch the two of you looking like this.

“Mark,” you softly call, placing a hand on his cheek and rubbing his skin with your thumb. “Mark, wake up.”

He groans, turning his face away from you. You tap his shoulder, run a hand through his dark locks and still nothing. Huffing, you gather the very little energy you have—without coffee in the morning, you’re pretty much nothing—to turn his body around and crawl on top of him.

“Wha—” Mark’s eyes are half-open but don’t stay so for long when he notices how you’re basically straddling his bare abs with your naked body. He panics so much that he begins to flail all over the place and end up falling from the bed and knocking you off his lap in the process.

You break into a train of laughter, pulling some blanket to cover your body. “Guess sober Mark is back.”

“Why are you naked?!” He shrieks, head peeping out from under the bed, and he shrieks louder when he notices that he’s also in his birthday suit. “Why am I naked?!”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

Mark takes a few seconds to himself, trying to process everything that his blurry memories can give and his jaw falls slack on his face when he realizes that, “We had sex!”

“Yeah, we did. Twice.” You giggle, nudging your head toward your desk which is literally in chaos—papers scattered everywhere, books falling to the floor, pens unaligned.

Mark follows your gaze and gapes harder. “Shit, yeah, on that desk—I remember—wait, but how?! Why—” He looks like he’s physically hurting trying to remember every detail, and probably that’s his hangover talking.

“Want some aspirin?”

He pouts rather cutely. “Yes, please.” When you step down from the bed, leaving your blanket behind, Mark blushes and immediately turns his face away, unconsciously letting out a girly yelp as he does so.

“Umm, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re naked.”

You stifle down a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. And so are you.”

Mark covers his bottom half with a pillow, face flushed. “C-can you put some clothes on?”

You were planning to, but seeing him react like this makes you re-think your decision. “Mark, we literally had sex twice yesterday.”

“I know, don’t say it!” He hides his face behind his palm. “It’s still embarrassing for me.”

“You certainly weren’t embarrassed last night,” you tease, “You even asked whether you could eat me out—”

“GAH!” He has both hands covering his ears, turning his entire body around to hide his face but the way his ears are going red is contradicting his action.

“Mark, look at me.”

“No way in hell!”

Smirking to yourself, you slowly walk to his spot, not covering even an inch of yourself. When you call him again, softer this time, Mark makes a mistake and throws you a glance. He’s no longer able to take his gaze off you after that.

You spread your legs, sitting on the pillow he has on his lap and wrapping both legs around his waist. Pressing your chest to his, you lean close to his ear. “Wanna go for another round?”

Mark gulps.

***

2K notes · View notes

ktheist · 4 years

Text

(why) we got married | m

synopsis. they say the 7th year of your marriage is always an uphill battle - but with the existence of your prenup coming to light thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend’s slip of tongue - first it reached your and his families, and then your family’s close friends and then your family’s close friends’ friends until - almost everyone is speculating on the grounds of you and taehyung’s marriage being anything but love.

you’re not sure if you’re even going to make past the second year mark in your marriage. but is the reason you got married really as important as why you choose to stay or leave?

muses. chairman!taehyung x stewardess!reader

alternative title. as you are.

inspired by. the 1 by taylor swift

genre. arranged marriage au with a pinch of drama and angst

words. 12.5k

warnings. explicit content

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

in your defense, neither you nor taehyung made an elaborated plan to deceive both his family and yours with the marriage which yes, had been founded upon a contract. but that’s not the point - the point is, your father and brother never sat down with taehyung and had a man-to-man talk. and his mother never sniffed out your reason for marrying her son being his abundance of wealth. but when all comes to light, thanks to taehyung’s lawyer slash family friend who made a slip of tongue - your parents and his were the ones most vindictive about who’s digging whose gold.

and to be completely frank, you were one article away from calling up your mother and telling her that you seduced taehyung into marrying you - just so she’d stop baring her fangs at mrs. kim. these days the headlines keep blowing up your mother and mrs. kim’s completely-by-chance meeting at a five star restaurant that erupted into manic yelling and pointing fingers.

“what did you say, you-” the audio bleeps for a split second before your mother in law’s voice comes back on, “-it was your daughter that seduced my son!”

“you crazy-” the audio bleeps again, “-you better watch your mouth or i’ll-”

the remaining seconds of the video are filled with bleeps that make it hard to even understand what either woman was saying. a wave of regret floods your chest as you scroll down the words strewn out into a juicy, tea-spilling commentary on your and taehyung’s past - the writer seems to pick up the minor little details that, in hindsight, leaves a big fat question mark out in the open.

when exactly did ___ ___ and kim taehyung start dating?

the answer was never.

the two times you and taehyung were photographed together was at a cafe near your office and the other, near his penthouse wherein you were discussing the terms of the contracts by yourselves. the one near taehyung’s penthouse being the final stage where you both signed it on your ipads. to the naked eye, you probably looked like you were on a date and being young professionals, it was only a given that both of you had some sort of electronic on you at all times - even during dates.

everyone just assumed you were together and with the assumption of being together, comes the conclusion that you were deeply, madly in love. was it the way the picture caught you two looking at each other with smiles on your faces? was it it’s sister picture that stilled you in a frame where you’re looking at your ipad and taehyung looking at you with the same - possibly remaining - smile from the moment the first picture was taken? that, you will never know.

but so it goes, you started going to socials together because taehyung needed some cleansing from his... charm-filled past. he used to go to those with different partners each week, and the previous woman that went with him always ended up refusing to talk about it or boasting about her ‘relationship’ with him. that was of course, after yoo now-kim jeongyeon got married three years ago. he used to attend those socials with her for the most part.

but someway, somehow, his public record was clean of any drama.

you would know, you’ve seen the man in action with your very eyes. on your 7th social event together, son chaeyoung had marched up to you and him like a ticking time bomb, red-faced and flaring nostrils and all. you were about ready to stand your ground when taehyung softly touched your hand that was around his arm and asked if you minded if he left for some fresh air.

of course you didn’t - respectfully, you couldn’t care less what taehyung does as long as it didn’t bring a negative light to you and him and the dynasties you both carried over your shoulders. everyone had their eyes wide open and ears perked for what was to come when taehyung walked chaeyoung out to the hallway. but nothing happened, and you were left to mingle on your own until he returned, looking devilishly handsome as always and strutted up to you with an air of refined sureness.

chaeyoung didn’t come back with him but everything remained quiet - not even a dramatic “stay away from my man!” at any point of your contract. you never asked how he did it - you thought it involved money, but over time, you realized it was just kim taehyung and all the things that made those women attracted to him. and just like a flame, he’d burned the moths’ wings until they couldn’t flutter over to him anymore after your wedding.

“uh, miss, we’re here,” the driver calls, meeting your eyes through the rear-view mirror.

it takes you a few moments to close the cover of your ipad and shove it into your handbag before pulling out bills that’s worth more than your car ride, “thanks, keep the change.”

and with that, you hop out of the cab, ready to put on a facade of grace and confidence. the staff who knows you greets you with a range of emotions, some with unhinged admiration from day one, others with curiosity on what’s truly hidden beneath those darken ray bans - without a doubt, aware of the drama going on between their boss’ mother and their boss’ wife’s mother.

either way, you make sure to return each smile and greeting like you always do. red lips sewn across your face like an ever smiling doll.

it’s only once you’ve entered the elevator and luckily left to your own devices, do you let your shoulder sag, the smile downturned into a frown all the way until a ding echoes into the small compartment and a red ‘8′ flashes on top of the doors.

you don’t fail to fix the secretaries a smile, relief flooding over you at how their warm - or was it profession-required - greeting hasn’t changed even after the rumors spreading about your inevitable divorce - of course, purported by you and taehyung’s mothers.

“son, if you don’t divorce that woman right away, i-i,” and here you see for yourself, the woman who called you ‘my daughter’ with the most loving voice, stuttering into a fit of rage, “i don’t think i can face my friends anymore - that bitch jihye has been slandering our family saying you used her daughter to get hold of the company!”

mina is about to knock on the door and announce your arrival when you hold a hand up before placing an index finger to your lips. she doesn’t need to be told twice when she nods once and steps back to leave you eavesdropping on your mother in law and husband.

“that’s fair,” there isn’t even a stuttered beat in his response.

“what-”

“that’s part of the reason we got married,” he goes on, “and ___ needs some help setting up her brother with some connection so it works out - and mom, please refer to ___ and mrs. jeon by their names, ___ is still my wife and mrs. jeon is the woman who raised her.”

“y-you-” mrs. kim stutters out in disbelief just when you decide to make your presence known, hand on the door, “you ungrateful child, oh my- oh my-!” you walk into the sight of the woman falling backwards with mr. ji the kims’ lawyer stretching his arms out to catch her, shouting “madam!” while taehyung launching himself across the room, “mom!”

mrs. kim ends up hospitalized.

“it was a case of stress and overworking that should go away with a good few days’ break,” chairman kim who also opts to assume his seat as part of the hospital’s doctor and a family friend of taehyung’s, fixes you with a reassuring smile.

the stethoscope and white robe gives off a more professional vibe than the sophisticated air you see him wear at family dinners.

“that’s a relief - it’s nothing life-threatening,” the smile you return doesn’t seem to sit right with him as his eyebrows knit together and a cloud seem to loom over his face.

“it’s really not in my place but,” he pauses, probably weighing out the pros and cons of offending you with what he’s about to say - but he doesn’t need to worry too much because after today, you probably won’t be seeing each other at dinners any time soon, “me and jeongyeon,” he means his wife and taehyung’s childhood friend, “are here for you if you need to talk - i know mrs. kim can be a little unreasonable at times, but give her some time. don’t give up on her.”

you nod once, murmuring a hollow ‘thanks for that, seokjin’ before watching the man strut down the hallway, the sound of his footsteps accompanying his leave. only when you’re left with the sound of your breathing, do you finally allow chairman kim’s words to sink into the deepest depth of your heart.

it’s not an easy task to keep your heart still and unbothered by your own mother in law’s words. even now, you can still hear her embellishing her headache, back ache, joint pains and every sort of non-fatal pains she has enough to get taehyung to stay by her bedside - so he doesn’t go home. doesn’t go back to the place where you two have built for yourselves.

and yet you can’t help but agree that - “if you’d divorced her just like i told you, i wouldn’t have fallen so ill!” she sighs, just as you’re about to slide the door open.

all of a sudden, the image of the delicate woman swaying and tumbling towards the ground flashes at the back of your head and you instantly recoil, as if the door was made from fire.

the fear of worsening mrs. kim’s health at the sight of you has you backing away, choosing to wait at the seat in the hallway instead. seconds stretch into minutes and minutes into hours until you feel your body being shaken.

your eyes which you never noticed fluttered close - snap open only to gaze at the face of an angel - a concerned one at that judging from the way his eyebrows knit together. and then you’re hearing the smooth baritone of his voice. you almost pulled out your phone from your purse to ask if you could have it recorded so you could listen to it as a lullaby.

that is, until you realize the angel’s disheveled wavy hair and eyes that look like they’re well on their way to falling asleep standing.

“taehyung,” the name slips out of your mouth with a surprised gasp as you note the pristine pastel background of the vip section, body jolting to sit up from your previously slumping position.

“have you been waiting all this time?” he takes a seat next to you - and only then do you notice the unkempt mess that he is.

the first few buttons of his shirt is undone whilst it hangs over his shoulders, untucked, tie hanging loose over his chest as he drapes his blazer over his arm. the sight is almost alien, especially coming from someone who can’t even stand a crease in his shirt.

“what time is it?” you wonder, reaching for your phone while he checks the rolex on his wrist - which proves to be faster than rummaging through your bag.

“seven-thirty - you’ve been waiting here for more than five hours,” and just your luck, right as the words hit the air, your stomach decides to remind you of the meal you’re about to miss if you stay here any longer.

the heat rushing to your cheeks a second later is immeasurably hot, “o-oh, okay.”

clearing your throat, you ask, “so how was mother? seokjin already told me but i wanted to hear it from you that she’s okay.”

“you know how mom is - keeps saying her head hurts from the fall even though mr. ji managed to catch her halfway,” in any other circumstances, you and him would have found humor in how your mother in law’s overembellished diagnosis to gain attention from you and taehyung - but this time, it’s only one of you she wants that from.

it doesn’t stop you from chuckling though, “it sounds just like her - maybe i should make some ginseng chicken soup to help her get better... or beef seaweed, you know, her...”

swallowing the lump in your throat is a feat - and unfortunately, you’ve failed terribly as taehyung gather you his arms.

only then, do you realize you’re sobbing like a child, emotions running wild as everything comes crashing in like a storm - his mother, your family, the whole fucking tabloids that’s being written and ready to be posted in the next few hours and the fact that the marriage may have been a fraud, but the bonds you made along the way had been more than just business. mrs. kim was a mother to you as much as yours is to taehyung. there may have not been any love between you two but you cherish his family like he cherishes yours.

“i’m sorry - for causing a- a scene - for causing mother to f-faint-” you weep and weep.

in your crying fit, you barely notice the way his arms tighten just the tiniest bit as he sways you left to right gently, one hand on the back of your head caressing your hair as he whispers something along the lines of “it’s not your fault” and “we’ll figure it out together.”

and so for the nth time in your one year of marriage, you’re banding together to capture mrs. kim’s heart again. the first time you visited her with taehyung, she narrowed her eyes at you and demanded taehyung explain as to why he didn’t come alone through the very same eyes next second.

when the man pretended not to notice and even placed a hand on your lower back just as your steps faltered in a ‘i’m with you’ kind of way, she opted to stare out the window while you unpack the broth you made onto the table. the portion you poured into the bowl you brought was getting colder by the minute as you spoke to her, “mother, i made beef seaweed soup, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

the only indication that she was listening was the way her eyes scanned the bowl of broth in front of her and proceeded to keep them on the window until you had to leave.

and so goes your second and third visits being received with shoulders made of ice a kind of silence that never fails to make your stomach churn with a sort of nervousness you should have felt when you meet your future husband’s parents for the first time. but the first time you met mrs. kim, your chest was filled with nothing short confidence and woo her you did along with taehyung’s relatives and closed friends. at the time, you didn’t think what you were doing - fooling everyone into believing that you’re marrying each other for love - would come biting you in the ass.

if karma existed then this probably you getting what you deserved.

on your fouth visit, you’d come alone because taehyung had an urgent meeting to attend. mrs. kim spared you a once over just like a rabbit who voluntarily and follishly hopped into the lion’s den.

“mother,” you offer her a smile, “how are you feeling?”

when silence is the only response you get, you quickly rummage through the paper bag you’d brought with you, “have you eaten? i made chicken soup-”

“don’t bother,” her voice cuts through the air like a blade. eyes as piercing as spears, “sit down, i know taehyung has an urgent meeting - it’s the only way to get him off my back.”

you’re not quite sure what she means but you have an inkling that the reason her hostility has yet to reach its pique is because taehyung has been giving her subtle looks to ‘mom, be nice to my wife’.

with a nod and a smile that seems to be glued to your face, you ask, “how was the bibimbap yesterday?”

though she didn’t cut you off, her response doesn’t exactly shed hope to your efforts being paid off when she dismissively says, “i gave it to mr. ji.”

the immediate ‘oh’ that tumbles out of your mouth is purely reflexive even though you know she’s never touched the meals you packed for her. but having her admit it is a different kind of heartbreak.

“i see,” is all you can say as you feel tears prick your waterline, a lump in your throat.

“this,” she places a folder of documents she seems to have ready by her bedside into your hands and without any explanation, sends you off with, “if you have any conscience at all, you’d sign these papers and stay out of our lives. even though i never read the contract but i’m sure a smart woman such as yourself would’ve thought to include the alimony as well - you understand what i’m saying right?”

you tried to say something - anything but at that point, the look in her eye already paints a picture of you clinging onto taehyung’s wealth. and yet you still tried, “m-mother, i-...”

but no words come out and as though her point had been proven, she’d huffed out a sigh and tuned you out like she always did on your previous visits.

so you walked down the hallway with shades covering your tear stained eyes and a skip to your step that oh-so-badly wishes to break into an unceremonious run to a place where nobody knows you. where nobody looks at you with rounded eyes for the briefest moment that easily translates to mrs. kim ___, wife of kadore’s chairman who married her husband for money.

but all you can afford to do is keep your head up until you reached the bathroom door, check each stall one by one to make sure no one’s inside before you finally set down the document and your handbag on the sink. the first sob hits the air as soon as you see the woman in the reflection’s reddening eyes and smudged makeup.

it takes you several breath-holding, eyes-shutting and a couple more sobs breaking through the cracks of your walls before you can finally pat some powder onto the patch of skin under your eyes and on your cheeks where most of the damage was done. by the time you’re back in the hallway with shades darker than the night sky, you find your feet melting and becoming one with the floor at the sight of a man with jet black hair standing at the reception.

and almost as though sensing the heat of your gaze through your ray bans, the man turns around to reveal a pair of doe brown eyes and the smile you’re so used to seeing now missing in action and replaced with a straight line.

“jungkook...”

“how’d you know i’d be here?” you start once you’ve both placed an order for your drinks at the counter.

“how long are you going to keep doing this?” instead of answering your question with a real answer, jungkook heaves out a sigh, eyebrows knitting together in vexation as he fixes you with one of those ‘i’m not telling mom and dad but this is our problem now’ kind of look.

“how ever long it takes,” is all you say, reverting your gaze to the smooth surface of the table.

“are those the divorce papers?” you refuse to look at him but you know he’s burning holes inside the beige colored folder sitting underneath your handbag on the seat between you and him.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, shoulders squared as you meet his eyes through your shades, “i haven’t opened it yet.”

but jungkook being jungkook, he takes that as a bare affirmation, choosing to interrogate you on a different topic, “have you seen what people have been saying about you?"

“i don’t really care about what people say,” is all you have to offer.

“you haven’t,” he nods in conclusion, “they’re saying you can’t have enough of your husband’s money... they’re saying you’re coming here everyday to grovel over his mother’s feet to let you stay married - that’s how i know you’d be here. and judging from the looks of it, they’re not too far off.”

it takes you a good solid minute to stomach the new found information. you haven’t been checking social media because of those same exact malicious comments but that was just the beginning of a downward spiral of your reputation - you never thought your efforts and hard work of burning your fingers on hot stoves and redoing dishes to get a perfect one would be met with an assumption of groveling over mrs. kim’s feet all for your husband’s money.

“god, i need a smoke,” jungkook huffs, receiving a look from the waiter that’s setting your drinks down. only after she’s gone does he present you with another set of questions. “was he the one that paid off dad’s debts? all of them? even the loan sharks?”

“that...” you nod once, failing to keep your head high as you twirl the straw of your frappe around but don’t even take a sip, “and the money i said i had saved up and lent you to start your company,” you quickly add,“- but taehyung doesn’t care about that - he wouldn’t accept it even if you wanted to pay him back twice the amount.”

“then why are you...” it’s the way his voice breaks at the end that makes you look up only to see a man whose eyes are a little sunken and cheeks a little hollow - almost as if he hasn’t been sleeping nor eating well because of his foolish sister, “why are you letting that woman trample all over you like this? wouldn’t it be easier to just get a divorce-”

“that woman is my mother in law, jungkook. at least, practice the same level of respect you’ve been preaching about,” you speak over him - it’s funny how taehyung once stood up against the same woman you’re standing up for, for you.

when all that follows is silence, you go on. this time, in a much demurred tone, “and it’s not about letting myself get trampled over... if mom found out you lied about something and she’s acting like mother does because she’s hurt, would you just go on with your life like nothing happened?”

it takes a moment for him to register what you said before taking on a much less hostile tone though still just as firm, “___, this is your life... i don’t know what kind of ‘happy family’ delusion you’ve been living in but i’m willing to bet all my money that it’s not taehyung that gave you those papers to sign and made you cry in the bathroom stall for thirty minutes-” he throws you look, “yeah, i saw you go into the washroom after coming out of her room. i was gonna call you but you looked like you had to take a huge dump so i waited but we know that’s not the case now.”

silence lapses between you for the umpteenth time before you stubbornly announce, “i could’ve been taking a dump - you don’t know.”

the sight of jungkook’s jaw dropping and hitting the ground is laughable, if not for the fact that he’s shaking his head five seconds later. vexed. irritated, “this is getting ridiculous - we’re going home. now.”

and he doesn’t mean the penthouse that you and taehyung shares.

shooting up, his hand grasps your wrist and he would have dragged you all the way to the car if you hadn’t protested.

“jungkook, no - i’m not going anywhere,” pulling your hand back, you stand a good one head shorter in front of your brother which doesn’t do much for your cause.

“___, if not for you then do it for mom and dad - they’re getting too old to be worrying about their one and only daughter’s marriage prospect,” he tries to coax, knowing full well your heart would wither like a flower at the mention of your parents worrisome nature - especially when your business is out in the open no matter how hard you try to hide it, “and you haven’t been answering their calls either.”

“i know, i just-” before you can even finish your sentence, a flash of garnet and bridal pink catches your eyes.

“____... jungkook, i didn’t think you’d be in korea. how are you?” taehyung’s warm baritone is laced with confusion as he stares at your brother and then at you for a sort of explanation but before you can even open your mouth, jungkook’s already has his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, “yeah, well someone’s gotta clean up the mess you started. ___’s coming back home with me - back to her real home.”

“i’m not - stop saying that and let me go,” you tug on your wrist only to wince at the pressure of his grasp, “jungkook, you’re hurting me!”

“hey, let my wife go,” taehyung takes a peaceful step forward, “we can talk ab-”

“oh no,” the laugh tumbling out of jungkook’s mouth drips with malice, “no, see, you lost your knight in shining armor privilege after you quite literally lied to our faces about how you’ll take care of my sister until ‘death do you apart’ when all it took was mommy dearest pretending to get sick while everyone labels my sister a gold-digging wh-”

you taking a step forward with a balled fist, is completely instinctive and you would say taehyung prancing towards the dark haired man with a fist that actually hits the mark, was also instinct-driven. except that he probably has better aim and his punches hurt more than yours ever would.

the first one, you admit was satisfying but when your brother ends up on the ground with your husband throwing blow after blow, you have no choice but to intervene.

“taehyung, stop!” the shriek that echoes against the walls almost burst your eardrums. you would have believed it to be mrs. kim if not for the fact that she’s nowhere in sight and you’re the one with your hands grasping onto your husband’s arms, trying to hold him back from sending blow after blow onto your brother’s half-conscious face.

“taehyung, don’t stop,” you frown, taking a seat next to him while swiping the ice bag off his lap before gently pressing it to his darkened jawline, “seokjin said to keep the ice on the bruise for at least an hour.”

“ahhh - ow - ow-!” the man whines, eyes screwed shut as his grits his teeth together but doesn’t recoil from your touch.

“maybe you should’ve thought twice about throwing a punch at a trained boxer,” you shake your head, lips curling into an inevitable smile.

after taehyung’s had a round of punches in, jungkook managed to flip them over so that he’s the one pinning the elder man down. the events that unfolded after that were the least bit pretty. the nurses and doctors attending nearby patients rushed to the two struggling men and then there’s you, shifting the shouting to your brother to “god damn it, jungkook! stop being a dick!”

it took five men - doctors and just-arrived guards alike - to pry your brother off your husband who still tried to get a punch in and was held back by seokjin who finally arrived at the scenes with half a mind to knock the both of them out as he calmly orders for jungkook to be dragged into one of those empty rooms akin to the one mrs. kim is staying at.

because taehyung was the one who started the fight, seokjin decided that an ice pack would do for the taller man whilst he treats jungkook and orders the other doctors to go back to their post.

picking up the mixture of garnet and bridal pink roses, he stares at their wilted petals for the longest moment, face painted with dejection. they must have been specifically ordered for mrs. kim-

“these are for you,” your train of thoughts halts in its track at taehyung’s words. his hand levitating midair as though unsure of whether to hand the bouquet to you or toss them away, “or were,” then he captures your gaze and you don’t think you can ever find your way out of the maze he’s able to hold you captive in with just his eyes, “you deserve fresh flowers specifically plucked from its stalk - you deserve a whole garden, actually-”

“taehyung,” your free hand covers his as if to say, “they’re lovely, thank you.” placing the ice pack down, you cup both hands around the flowers, bringing them to your nose, “and they smell wonderful - i love pink roses.”

“i know,” the tiniest smile peeks from his lips, “you told me that.”

“i did?” you blink, surprised.

“at our wedding reception, you got a little tipsy and started sobbing because the roses were blush pink and not bridal pink,” the sound of his chuckles drums in your ears like hymns just like it did a year ago.

back when you were decked in an elegant off shoulder white gown after changing out of your wedding dress. you’d stood in the sidelines while your families and friends danced to their hearts’ content to the sound of the music. white champagne in your hand, the background beginning to turn fuzzy and your thoughts began to get louder.

it didn’t help that the object of your frustrations was smack dab covering every inch of the vicinity from the gargantuan rose covered backdrop, to the tiny vases in every single table.

the sob hits the air like the first raindrop. you had to clasp your hand to your mouth as if you were about to cough to hide your mouth stretching into your crying mouth - you don’t know how to explain it but your lips tend to morph into an unshapely sight whenever you cry and covering it when you feel the waterworks coming has always been second nature. as for the tears - they were concealable because the lights were dim enough.

but then there was someone next to you - he just popped up out of nowhere really and because you were standing in the darkest corner, you couldn’t pick out any defining features besides his height but you didn’t have much time to ponder on that as his question fills your eardrums, “so, how does saying goodbye to the bachelorette life feels like?”

“it’s terrible,” you’d wept some more and he shifted on his feet slightly, as though noticing the tear in your voice but luckily for him, he didn’t even have to ask because you were spilling your innermost thoughts out loud, “they- they gave me blush pink and garnet roses- i want bridal pink and garnet roses.”

“oh,” distinctively rang in your ears among the sound of instruments and joyful laughter.

then comes another input, “i didn’t know they messed up your request,” and you didn’t know why he’d sounded like he was about to murder someone.

“yeah and,” you sniffle, “- and i didn’t wanna say anything because- because i don’t wanna be that bratty bride who picks on every little detail.”

that morning, you woke up to a box full of roses and they were the lightest shade of pink. taehyung was already awake and offered to ring up breakfast for the both of you after he’d bid you a good morning and a “something came in for you.”

the gifts were prearranged to be sent to the penthouse instead of your suite but then again, there were chocolates and champagne bottles that made past the hotel doors because of its edible nature - the roses too... their fleeting livelihood seemed like you’d enjoy them better in your hotel room than a week later after you’d come back from your honeymoon.

the card didn’t even leave initials but had ‘roses for a rose’ playfully written in cursive black ink. your heart blooms a garden but your head is what makes you search for your newly wed husband, only to see him looking at you with a tender smile - one that you thought manifested because of your own involuntary smile when you’d read the note.

“i don’t think these are for us,” you could feel the frown setting into your features, causing taehyung’s own brows to furrow.

“i think these are for... me,” and so you told a tale of a woman with ambitions rather than stars in her eyes, who felt a compulsion to at least tell the truth to her husband and the stranger whom she met at her wedding. of course, omitting the teary eyed part and the blush and bridal pink roses part.

taehyung had easily chuckled while the staff set down plates of delicacies on the round meant-for-two-people-on-a-honeymoon table, saying, “he has fine taste - they’re from halls & tara,” after the staff left.

it didn’t occur to you that the h&t initials on the top right corner of the card stood for the most well known florist in seoul until he’d pointed it out, which could only mean he’d been suspicious enough to take longer than a glance at the flowers.

“do you mind if i keep them? at least, until they’re not as fresh anymore.” you quickly added the last part.

“you can keep them in a vase and have them live longer... why? are they not the shade of pink you wanted?” he blinked once, hand halting midair as he was about to take a mouthful of pancakes.

“well- no, they’re perfect actually - i love them,” you almost stutter in your haste to explain while trying to be casual about how devastated you would be if- “it’s just that... i really didn’t know him or who he was- but he obviously knew me because it’s hard not to know the lady of the day- i’m not breaching any terms-”

it’s the way the trickles of laughter filling the otherwise silent room that got you to clamp your mouth shut. the way kim taehyung looked so ethereal and majestic in the pristine black and white setting of the room.

“i don’t mind,” he’d clarified a moment later, eyes twinkling with the remnants of laughter, “i understand why he’d want to desperately send you these if only to see you smile softly like you did - you look beautiful when you smile, by the way.”

the compliment had caught you off guard and your heart might or might not have somersaulted but if there’s anything seven years of becoming a stewardess has taught you, it was to always prepare an adequate response to every situation - and at that time, kim taehyung was infamous for his quick wits and reputation with the ladies. of course, words sweet as honey would come easy for him.

“thank you,” and so were the words of gratitude on your part as you schooled a smile and dug into the pancakes your husband made.

but sitting on the black leather couch, holding onto a similar colored bouquet, you can’t help but blurt out, “that was you? i was bawling my eyes out because of some mismanagement to my husband who didn’t even recognize?” something between a disbelieving scoff and an irony-induced laugh escapes your mouth, “why didn’t you tell me?”

taehyung’s shoulder line shakes as he shrugs, hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he drops his gaze, as if searching for the answer only to look back up into your eyes with a, “i didn’t think you’d be as happy if you knew it was me,” his gaze falters, like a bud of fear blooming behind his irises,

“why wouldn’t i be?” you blink once, not quite understanding where he’s coming from.

that is, until a small smile slips onto his lips and it’s heartbreaking to witness and even more devastating to know you’re in no place to let your arms gather him into a hug like you wish. to kiss his forehead until his worries disappear.

he twines his fingers with yours, thumbing the diamond on your fourth finger, “i’m sorry that i took away your choice to marry for love - that’s a bit corny isn’t it?” he scrunches his nose and you can’t help but giggle, “it’s not just some short term contract since we both agreed divorce is never in the equation,” neither of you believe in tainting the sanctity of marriage - no matter what cause it was founded upon - with separation, “but god, the things you’re going through right now - i promise i’ll make things right.”

taehyung’s eyes tend to appear in different shades along with his emotions - though you know it’s most probably the lighting. dark brown is for when he’s scrutinizing the hollow smiles and empty compliments he gets at functions. but sometimes you find yourself catching hazel.

like right now, as they capture yours and look at you as if you’re the only one he sees.

“taehyung...” you thought you knew what you wanted to say when you said his name but as you get lost in the midnight dessert of his eyes, you’re not sure if you can even muster so much as a squeak without falling apart.

and that’s when a knock reverberates into the air like thunder, forcing you to jolt away from the man until no part of you is touching any part of him.

“hey,” a somber voice greets as jungkook leans against the doorframe, “so they fixed me up and the chairman wants me gone in,” he looks down at his wrist, “two minutes and fifty-three seconds.”

blinking away the remnants of the emotions away, you stand up, giving the man a once over. his button up is marred with a trickle of deep red a few inches over his chest, hair matted and face sporting different stages of bruising. the bleeding’s stopped for the most part.

“you’ve definitely seen better days,” you announce, walking around the couch to get to where the man is rolling his eyes at.

“sorry for calling you the w-word,” that’s definitely wasn’t what you were expecting which prompts the belated, almost suspicion induced,“...okay.”

“i did that because i needed to confirm something,” he goes on, eyes flitting over your shoulder where you know your husband is staring right back, burning holes inside your brother’s head before he looks back at you, taking a full 180 in attiude, “and don’t worry about mom and dad - i’ll take care of them.”

it takes you a moment to digest his proclamation, all the whilst hyperly aware of the hand that makes its way on your lower back as a familiar dior scent fills your senses, “so you’re not gonna drag me home?” as though disbelieving the words that came out of your mouth, you add, “that’s all it takes? a few punches to the face?”

the twitch of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by you. nor does the deep breath he forces himself to take at the blatant insult and insinuation of your future boxing lessons to which he warns, “don’t get any crazy ideas,” then he turns to the man next to you, “i let you hit me - let’s get that out of the way first.”

and before either you or taehyung manage to get a word in, jungkook hand comes flying to your forehead, a loud sound of skin smacking against skin echoing throughout the room as you tumble backwards with an audible “ow- hey!”, barely noticing the much larger hand that’s covering yours. inspecting the patch of skin where jungkook just flicked.

without even an apology for the uncalled for assault, he nods at something over your head, probably taehyung, “you take care of my sister, you hear me? cause there won’t be a second time.”

and then he’s gone like the wind - you would have tracked down that wind and give him a taste of his own medicine like you did when you were children. you’d jump on his back and attempt to bite a chunk of his head if your nannies didn’t pull you apart - but right now, you couldn’t escape taehyung’s hand on your waist even if you wanted to.

“let me see,” he instructs, gently coaxing your hand to unclasp the patch of skin on your forehead so he could softly blow on it.

you stay like that, standing at the doorway with your bodies too close and taehyung refusing to unhand you until your cheeks are replaced with a different kind of heat than the anger you felt for your god forsaken brother.

“god he’s an ass - you should’ve messed up his face more,” you huff, and you don’t know why - maybe it’s the way you stomp your foot, maybe it’s the way your cheeks tend to puff when you’re feeling vindictive or maybe it’s a mystery locked in taehyung’s head that you’ll never know but his chuckles sound like hymns in your ears.

and you thought that was the end of the electrified sensation on your skin where his touch lingers until you feel a pair of the softest lips on your forehead, right where the flick was supposed to throb. a grinning taehyung looking back at you as if asking, “my nanny used to do this to me when i bump my knee against a furniture...” a flash of worry blooms in his eyes for the briefest moment before he voices his concerns, “hope the magic still works.

the sight is heartwarming. endearing even. and you can’t help smile, cheeks hot, “it does - it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

and just as you thought he’s about to release you from the torment of having your heart skip multiple beats at a time and step back, he presses another peck on your forehead. a smile gracing his features, “another one for good measure.”

it’s a surprise your legs are still holding you up with how jelly-like they’ve become.

“th-thank you.”

mrs. kim discharged herself a week after the fight but not without standing in front of the hospital with her frilly fur coat and gucci handbag while she looks at the camera and consequently straight into the screen, “i have yet received a publicly apology for what jeon jungkook did to mine by the jeons. my taehyung couldn’t even kill a fly, let alone start a fist fight-” she shivers uncontrollably as though overcome with chills, “such a barbaric, uncivilized act can only come from-”

“you’re watching that?” a smooth baritone fills the room as a figure struts in beige slacks and oversized creme sweater, “again?”

he sits on the edge the backrest of the couch, looking down at you with an expression that makes your stomach churn. with butterflies or guilt for breaking your promise to stop checking out these articles, you don’t know.

“sorry,” you mumble, placing the ipad down a few inches from your feet as you bring your legs up against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, “worrying about how the press twists mother’s words comes from the plentiful of time i have on my hands after being sacked, i guess.”

it’s been a week since you’ve received your new schedule. to which you received a call right after to head to the headquarters in the heart of seoul only to be told that-

“___, you gotta understand, this whole fiasco going on with your family... it’s giving the airline a bad rep,” mr. bang leaned back against his recliner, his eyes hiding behind the beam of his glasses, “people are leaving bad reviews on the website that has absolutely nothing to do with our services but has everything to do with you and your husband.”

he meant the growing dissatisfaction upon the revelation of the artificiality of you and taehyung’s marriage.

nobody’s caught jungkook and taehyung in a video but there’d been witnesses and ‘sources’ affirming the two getting into a fistfight at the hospital. and so another record has been made in your long list of family drama.

“sir, please,” you could feel your eyebrows joining together from the sheer frustration and reality anchoring into the pit of your stomach, “i’ve been working for korean air -for seven years now- check my reconds,” hope blooms in your chest as you suggest the idea to your superior, “i’ve never been late, never had a customer complain about me, never made any mistakes prior to this-”

“it doesn’t matter what you did before this, ___,” he cut you off, voice heavy with emphasis.

but you weren’t backing out that easy, “please, it’s not fair to lay me off for something i have zero control in.”

at your wording, the man physically flinched, almost as though struck by a spear before he shook his head, denying your claims.

“you’re not fired,” he corrected, “you’re on paid leave... until everything calms down.”

it took everything in you not to let the frown slip onto your face. first it’s paid leave and then it a one month notice before they officially sack you - you’ve seen how this played out one too many times.

so you smiled, “with all due respect, mr. bang, how long is ‘until everything calms down’?”

the man’s shoulder line jolted as he shrugged, lower lip jutted out in a nonchalant nature, “that depends on how you choose to solve it, ___... i assume you are working on a solution, yes?”

it was a trick question. if you answered the affirmative, it’d be admitting what mrs. kim and almost everyone have been demanding - a divorce. if you answered no, then you’re as good as jobless.

“my husband and i are working on it,” was all you say.

when taehyung found out later that night - he was livid. he was a phone call away from calling up mr. ji to sue the airline for discrimination. it took you stealing his phone away and running around the penthouse until you made him promise that he’d listen to you first.

he did, and you’d wanted to wait it out and see because, “there isn’t any damage to build our ground on anyway because i’m not fired yet.”

“well, dinner’s ready ” taehyung’s soft as silk voice tears you apart from your memroies, hand levitating midair until you take it, hoisting yourself up.

taehyung pushes himself off the couch, walking on the other side with your hand in his. it’s comical but endearing all at once and you giggle at how neither of you are willing to let the other go even though you’ll have to once you reach the four-people dining table.

“thank you,” you say as you lower yourself on the seat while he pushes the chair in for you.

home cooked meals have become a norm for the both of you ever since that day taehyung punched jungkook in the face. at first, you insisted that you should be the one cooking since he was injured but he stayed with you in the kitchen and you talked about your day and reminisced about your childhood and how you similarly had nannies that forbade you from coming into the kitchen.

then there was the peck on the top of your forehead he started doing a few days ago after you were sat and before he went around the table to get to his seat that’s across from you.

“did you go shopping today?” he asks in between cutting up the steak which he stole a whole plate from you into mini slices.

“yeah, with hwasa,” you nod - the woman had been all too delighted to see you after mismatched schedules and ghostly texts because of life and work getting in the way.

“the friend from high school?” taehyung surprises you yet again as he places your plate back in front of you, this time with the pieces all cut into edible bites. you’ve never mentioned hwasa to him - but it’s not a lie that she’s your closest friend from high school who got accepted into the same training programme as you at the beginning of your career.

“thank you-” you shoot him a smile before picking up the fork and knife, “and yeah, that’s her. we haven’t seen each other for months so we kind of went a little crazy with the dresses.”

he doesn’t look up when he speaks his next words which is why you have a trouble digesting them as you involuntarily blurt out a, “sorry- what?”

“the dresses you bought,” he reiterates, an amused smile on his lips - possibly because of your almost-choked state, “- can i see them?”

“oh,” clear your throat once, sipping down the red wine before chuckling nervously, “hwasa bought dresses - didn’t.”

taehyung hums, head tilting to the side as though trying to capture your avoidant gaze, “then put on whatever you bought that i saw lying on your bed - the door was open when i passed your room.”

at that moment, to say your heart quite literally crash against the floor, would be an understatement. it takes you a minute to gather yourself, another to force out a laugh as you attempt to brush the thought of taehyung seeing the black and red laces from savage x fenty hwasa adamantly insited you get after a story time on why you decided to get married to how something has definitely shifted between you and taehyung.

but no amount of gushing and squealing about made up scenarios brewing from hwasa’s little head could prepare you for what’s happening right at this moment.

“oh those?” a chuckle, “those are aren’t even worth showing.”

and just as you thought he’ll let the matter go like he would when you dismissively mention something that he inquired about, taehyung takes a full 180, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you don’t dare delve into, “that’s for me to decide,” he takes a sip of the wine, pushing his chair back as he stands up, “i’m done,” with that, he places his plate down where geom, your mixed breen papillion and silky terrier shouts out an appreciative woof at the pleasant surprise.

patting the canine briefly, he turns to you, those clouded eyes seeping into your soul, “put them on - i’ll be waiting in my room.”

his footsteps echo against the walls as he ascends the stairs and disappears into the hallway where his room lies across from yours. it is a whole solid minute later, once you hear the door of his room click shut, that you make a beeline for the couch where your phone lies lonely.

dialing up the only person you know you can hold accountable for, you quite literally scream at the ‘hell-’ with a “hwasa, he wants me to put the lingerie on and show him!”

while your voice drips with dread, the other woman, choosing to be willfully oblivious, screams into your ears, “oh my god - oh my god. then what are you doing calling me?! go put them on!”

and that’s how you end up holding in a breath while deliberately repeating hwasa’s not so helpful pep talk of ‘you’re the hottest’ and ‘kim taehyung will be wrapped around your fingers by the end of the night!’

“but it’s been over a year - i’m not sure if i even know how to moan!” you’d protested while pull the strap of the garter around your thigh.

that was half an hour ago.

now, you’re debating on whether to knock like you would have before you started cuddling into the other while watching tv. but before that, you’d never did anything together unless it was family dinners and gatherings.

so you opt for pushing down the handle. the sharp ‘click’ being the only announcement of your entrance. taehyung’s walls are a deep shade of maroon almost black with the lights on its lowest setting. the sound of music playing in the background barely registers in your mind as you focus your attention to the figure that’s pushing himself up from his laying down position.

you resist the temptation to run and hide under the comfort your covers - an opposed response compared to your confident stride, placing one foot after the other until you stand a good two feet away from the bed and taehyung.

“what do you think?” the smile brandished over your face is nothing like your racing heart whlist you do a little twirl- but then again, you’ve always been such an actress.

“if the world were made of diamonds, i’d choose the rose before me... because you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever laid eyes on,” you wonder how he doesn’t even blink as those words pour out of his mouth, hand finding its way in the dip of your waist. staring. admiring.

“always the charmer,” you want to curse yourself for the unoriginal come back yet taehyung doesn’t seem to notice as he lets you push him to the bed whilst his eyes undress what little piece of clothing you have on as you crawl on top of him.

your toes curl at the sound of taehyung’s excruciatingly slow exhalation - almost as though he intends for it to caress your ears and seep into your pores before settling into the pit of your core.

the sharp charm of dior fills your senses as you place kisses on his neck, tucking his flesh between your teeth ever so gently, not expecting the delectable surprise that slips out of his mouth.

who would have thought kim taehyung was a moaner?

the giggle that trickles out of your mouth is blamelessly involuntary but catches his attention nonetheless, “what?”

“oh, nothing,” you nibble on his earlobe before whispering into his ears, “just thinking of how cute you’ll look moaning for me.”

and you’ve easily add to the long list of things you won’t forgive yourself in the morning. yet you still caress his growing size through his pants, giggling when the delicious sound hits the air for the second time.

“take it out,” he whimpers after one too many teases, “please.”

“only because you said please,” the way his chin tilts to follow your lips after you pecked them doesn’t go unnoticed by you but you clasp your hand against his chest, pinning him down with a shake of your head “uh-uh, you get up when i tell you to.”

the excruciating ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips is what truly lights up the flame in the pit of your stomach. you watch as his hand goes up to run through his hair in a sexually frustrated nature but doesn’t attempt to push himself up after that.

it only takes a few pumps for the clear fluid of precum to trickle over your hand, letting you smear all over his hardened dick and causing it to glisten underneath the luminescence of the room.

sparks shoot through your core and strike your heart into an erratic rhythm when you lower yourself over him, holding the slit of the black lace undergarment apart until he’s hitting every delicious inch inside of you.

you’ve barely even started to move when you break out into a cry, falling into his arms like a puppet whose strings got cut off. the arms around you are gentle as they hold you against him until you’ve come down from your high.

by the time you push yourself up, your knees are still trembling yet you nod when he cups your cheeks and forces you to look into those concern filled eyes, “are you good?”

“i’m fine,” the sniffle is probably the last thing you need to convince him, “i lost myself for a moment.”

this time, it’s his turn to chuckle, lips curling into a smirk, “it’s completely understandable to admit that you couldn’t hold out for more than a minute because i stretched you out so good.”

you want to protest - want to gain back the control you lost when he hit that sweet spot not even, yes, as he says, a minute into taking him in. but one single thrust right against that same exact spot and you’re whimpering in utter submission and devotion.

“that’s what i thought,” that damned smirk is the last thing you see before you succumb to his every wishes and command until you find yourself with a strong arm banded over your stomach, another arm reaching for a pillow and puffing it up before you feel yourself being gently lowered face flushed into it - the smallest gesture of tenderness that you didn’t expect to witness when you decided to tease him in the beginning.

the yelp when taehyung’s hands slip under the strap of the garter, doesn’t even manage to form fully when a moan replaces it as he yanks the garter and consequently, your ass against him, forcing you to swallow his entire length in one stroke.

“god, you’re so big,” if you were a little sober and a whole lot more conscious, you would have added that into the list of things you said that you would cringe at in the morning.

but you’re already one orgasm down in the foreseeable long list of orgasms that kim taehyung promises you as he sinks into you, moaning out your name like a holy mantra.

“i know you love it,” he agrees oh so innocently for someone who’s about to thrust into you like a godless being.

five strokes in and you’re cursing and screaming out in pleasure, hands gripping onto the duvet for dear life as you feel you convulse into a state of toe-curling euphoria. the way taehyung stops moving and trails down butterfly kisses down your back until the tensed muscles in your lower abdomen simmers down into pleasured twitches, doesn’t go by you.

“you can move now,” another sniffle, but this one has completely and irrevocably succumbed to your rawest desires.

it’s the soft chuckle and the one last peck on your left shoulder blade that has your heart stuttering. ungodly opposite to the way he moves his hips as he thrusts into you without so much as a warning - your last two orgasms were just preambles. ones out of the many that night that has you writhing and moaning in pleasure. some of which were incited by sides of you, you didn’t know existed.

the last thing you recall is taehyung gathering you in his arms like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you even in his sleep now that he’s had a taste. it’s endearing and daunting all at once. because for the first time since your marriage, you’re afraid of losing him.

a few days after that, you’re tying away on your macbook when taehyung comes home looking less like the man you knew. his hair, disheveled from having run his hand through them more than his hair gel allows. his eyes, carrying a sort of weight that latches onto him like parasites - or maybe that’s just the papparazzo that you noticed have been following you around. their numbers have decreased considerably after the rumor of taehyung hiring a team of lawyers which was no rumor at all.

it was the morning after you woke up with tingly legs barely able to function like it should and muscles sore but a sort of fullness in your chest when you noticed the man whose arms are wraped around you like a protective cocoon as he faintly snored away.

then came the muted sound of your phone from the other side of the hallway where your room door beckons you into its domain. it wasn’t as obnoxiously loud since it was at least twenty feet away and you would have ignored it and gone back to bed if not for the short interval signaling the person calling had finally reached the mailbox or hung up on their own. that was, before they hit call for the second time.

slipping out of taehyung’s arms, you trudged to your room with half a mind to give whoever this caller is a piece of your mind - god’s sake, the flashy red digits on your alarm clock stares at you at 5:23 in the morning.

“this better be good, hwasa or i swear-” before you can even finish the woman is already screaming into your ear like she’s being chased by an axe murderer.

“oh my god, oh my god - have you seen the news?!” except no woman chased by a murderer would sound this exhilarated, she went on before you could even get a “no one in their right mind would be checking the news at ass crack-” out.

“oh shoot, it’s still 5 something in korea, isn’t it?” she gasped - if you weren’t on paid leave, you’d be in hong kong, probably sharing rooms and getting tipsy in some club there, “but anyway, kadore’s chairman is suing insight, pullbbang and other websites for slander!” she shrieked.

"what?” you could feel the muscles on your face pulling into a contorted confusion but

after hanging up and telling hwasa you were going to look into the matter some more, you’d come up with multiple articles stating a similar fact as your overly enthusiastic best friend did. still in denial, you’d confronted your husband about it- he was still sleeping soundly when you strutted in and shook him up to which he confessed, eyes droopy and face puffy. the sight was so foreign to you because you were used to seeing him fresh and suited up but you’d found yourself making a little space in your heart for barely-just-woken-up-taehyung to reside in.

first came anger - you didn’t ask for him to do this, “what would everyone think if i went to you crying about a little bit of criticism for something i did do?” then came confusion because what exactly did you do that was so horrendously heineous to warrant these websites to write such malicious statements about you?

taehyung had seen every flash of emotions that pooled in your eyes and tugged on your fingers - you weren’t sure if he’d meant it but it successfully pulled you from drowning in your own thoughts, “i told you i’d make things right - these people won’t be able to say another word about you unless it’s the truth- that you’re a hardworking, amazing woman who deserves everything she has and yes,” he fixed you the most tender, sleepy smile “that includes the money i make - what’s the point of working if i can’t even provide my wife with the best?”

taehyung tosses the beige tuxedo onto the handrest of the couch adjacent to where you’re sitting with one leg up in nothing but a loose fitted sweater that hangs off your left shoulder. the half empty wine glass lies untouched on the coffee table since you’d put it down.

with a thump, he sinks himself into the leather material of the couch, hands cupping his face, as though if he rubs it hard enough, the deadset frown would go away.

before you know it, you’re padding over to the couch he’s on, hands finding their ways onto his shoulders, massaging the noticeable tension in his muscles until a grateful sigh slips out of his mouth, hand guiding your own to his lips where he presses a kiss on your knuckles.

only when you go around to take the spot next to him, hand smoothing out his hair, do you finally say, “is it the board again?”

mina has been keeping you updated on the turbulence that was caused by your fraudulent marriage being exposed. the chairman seat became taehyung by default when he got married as per his father’s will. but the board members have been vocal about abrogating his rights to succeeding kadore.

“there’s talk about votes demoting me to director,” he’s never sound so fragile - in taehyung’s long list of fluctuating interest from women and men to art and sculptures and to yatches and sports cars, kadore is probably the only thing he’s ever taken seriously.

you would know - seeing him decked in armani with soft wavy hair contrasting his strong features, weren’t your only reason for accepting his proposal of marriage. it had more to do with the way he spoke about the company. in a dimly lit room just like now, with a wine glass in his hand and the cityscape underneath that gave an illusion of stilled fireflies scattered all across the city, taehyung had spoken of his unforgivable regrets. the deals he’d let pass by. the merges he’d settled with instead of aiming higher. the brands he didn’t reach out to.

those regrets birthed fears and those fears were what made him even entertain the notion of a beneficial marriage.

or as the board likes to call it, an atrociously wickedly schemed marriage.

“they won’t have a ground to depose you to a director’s position if they can’t provide a solid reason,” you say and he blinks, clueless, hopeless.

it’s almost as if you’re facing a whole different man.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m talking about us doing what we do best,” you fix him a smile - one that probably needs a little convincing and grounding but a smile nonetheless, “we show them that the kims aren’t to be messed with,” you pause, letting the silence settle into brimming suspense before finally saying, “it’s been awhile since we’ve made a public appearance together, hasn’t it? how does lunch sound like?”

and so goes your multiple appearances in the most top notch restaurant together. the lack of chauffeur wasn’t intentional but helpful nonetheless to prove that the chairman was hopeless and irrevocably mad for his wife that he’d drive all the way to wherever she was to pick her up and then drive them to the designated restaurant instead of the convenience of meeting at said restaurant from wherever you both were prior to that.

then there was the hand holding, hip grabbing and not going a minute without smiling and giggling about what the other said. to outsiders, it would have looked as if things hadn’t been all that different - except you’d finally came out of your 1 billion doller cave after the whole ‘fiasco’ with your families. but it was the little hand kisses and forehead pecks in between taehyung making mini runs to get to your side to open your car door.

and the ‘how was your day’s and which are followed by a ‘you’re still deadset on working, huh?’s each time you told him about your in-the-work resume since you’re ‘at the risk of getting a notice of resignation any time soon’.

“what if you started your own business? i could buy a whole building in nonhyeon-dong that you could make as your headquarters?” he offers in between twirling the pasta around his fork after you insisted that- “my job is the only thing that i’ve got going on for me to prove that i’m not a gold-digger that everyone thinks i am.”

“i was thinking more like travelling from place to place like...” you shoot him a ‘you know’ smile before adding, “a cabin crew.”

“one of korean air’s biggest shareholders are letting go of her stock because her color pencil business isn’t doing so well these days,” he nods, deeply contemplative, “they’re gonna be sacking a few employees if they don’t get buyers by the next two months,” he surmises with a concluding nod to which you end up laughing and almost choking on your food.

picking up the water on your right, you quickly gulp it down before clarifying as to why you found his statement so funny that you’d risk your esophagus in the process, “no, tae,” that nickname is also one of the little things that just happens - you don’t miss the tuck in the corners of his lips when it slips off your tongue, “it’s sweet of you to want to buy me a share of the airline i’m working for but that’s the thing, it’s your money,” you reach out for his hand, smiling when he meets yours halfway.

a warm pressure engulfs your hand as he squeezes briefly, “and i told you, what’s mine is yours.”

“likewise,” you fix him a grateful smile, “but i like flying. i like being a cabin crew - on top of holding onto my job to prove people wrong, of course.”

the longest pause hovers over you like a grey clouds with taehyung’s beautiful but contemplating eyes holding you captive. as though trying to take you out part by part, trying to figure you out.

“then, what would you like me to do?” the question catches you off guard, like being hit by a wild baseball even though you’re walking right next to a baseball field, “you’ve always been so good at taking care of yourself - when you broke down in front of me... at the hospital... i didn’t know what to do-” his lips quiver just the slightest bit, almost as though holding back invisible tears, “tell me what to do. because it feels like everything i do isn’t the slightest bit helpful. ”

all of a sudden, the sands of time seem to have stopped, levitating midair within the dip of the hourglass. it’s daunting but heartbreaking at the same time - the sight of raw fear and uncertainty that’s pooling within taehyung’d eyes like unmoving river - you never knew your attempts to hold up your values reflects as a declaration of nonessential to taehyung’s own attempts to reach out to you.

“i don’t need you - to fight my battles, to solve my problems for me - though i’m immensely grateful that you did,” you say after what feels like an eternity, “but i want you so... stay as you are, supporting me like you’re doing now.”

“i don’t know if that counts as support - i’m not doing anything,” he counters, eyes downcasted until you reach out your other hand to cover his that’s already holding your left hand.

“you are - you never invalidated my feelings of wanting to work, you encouraged me to do bigger things and that means you believe in me - maybe i will take up that offer in the future but right now, i want to keep doing what i always have been,” you fix him a smile, “and i want to do it with you by my side.”

the tiniest of smile that slips onto his face tells you that his heart is still in a state of unrest. unconvinced. but he’s trying as he nods, “if that’s what you want,” and you thought that’s the end of it. until the foreshadowing “but,” that comes a second later, “i’m not gonna stop worrying and trying to fix things - we’re married, your problems are my problems too.”

the chuckle escapes your mouth signifies the good natured jest of your next words as you summon your hands back, already missing the warmth of his much larger ones around you, “well we weren’t exactly on that term until just recently.”

a shadow casts itself over taehyung’s handsome face as he picks up his fork, “that’s something i’ll regret for the rest of my life - not getting to know you beyond the contract sooner.”

“everyone makes mistakes,” you shrug before taking a peek at his expression as you mention a certain free spirited woman, “besides, you were too caught up with jeongyeon on our first year of marriage.”

she had been one of the few people who’d managed to bring out a side of taehyung you never knew existed.

boyish. bratty. someone who actually bicker and whines about the littlest things and everything that was on the opposite spectrum the crisp, suit-wearing, slicked back hair, charming man you married. sometimes, when you go out to dinners or the little moments when you find yourselves alone while attending functions, you see glimpses of that playful, boyish side of him. the human side of him.

over time, you realize that that’s also part of what makes taehyung... well, taehyung. it’s just only recently that you start seeing more than glimpses of these sides behind closed doors.

the way his eyes widen is enough for you to know that you’ve hit the nail right on its head. if the incomprehensible stuttering isn’t, “that... i was... we didn’t-”

“i know,” you fix him a jesting smile, “you may be a certified charmer for the most part but you’re not a homewrecker, tae.”

lunch goes on with you talking about how your father and brother are thrilled to have you and taehyung over for your monthly dinner. to which the man was partly confused and partly shivered in his seat at the thought of sitting down at a table with two of your favorite men in the world no doubt shooting him daggers while you’re not watching - or pretend that you don’t notice.

“i can’t avoid father forever,” he laments, finally giving into his fate as you walk out the restaurant, “and i have a lot of owning up to do to your family.”

“as do i,” you hum in agreement once before murmuring a ‘thank you’ as he holds the car door open after tipping the valet.

it’s only five minutes into the ride, once the car rolls to a stop at a red light does he turn to you, “you know, you don’t have to... with mom, reconciliation is a two way thing and she...” you notice the way his grip tightens around the wheel, eyes darkening as he breathes in, grounding himself “- she even made you file for divorce.”

the papers she’d given you that day still lied in your drawer, hidden away from taehyung’s pyromaniac hands. you’d caught him almost setting them on fire when you he found it lying on the counter after he’d returned home. all because spent a good chunk of the afternoon staring at it before leaving it to take a hot bath, not realizing taehyung would be home any time soon. ever since then, he hadn’t been on speaking terms with mrs. kim. turned down offers for dinners and luncheons, as he had directly told her in front of you through a phone call, “...not until you apologize to ___ first.”

“tae, mother was hurt by our lies and i understand why, i can’t promise i’ll be as accepting if i found out the daughter-in-law i cherished so much didn’t marry my son for love like i thought they did,” you lightly pat his hand that’s on the gear but instead he captures your fingers between his and guide them to his lips as he traps you within those beautiful eyes.

“you’re too kind for your own good, you know that?” there they are again, hazel underneath the light. but clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

but before you can even muster a word, his eyes are already focused on the road as the car propels itself forward. but he doesn’t let go of your hand. he keeps it twined with his between yours and the gear. almost as if he didn’t want to be apart from you if he could help it. and neither could did you as you rub tiny motions into the back of his hand.

in your defense, you’ve stolen a precious gem from her that no money or gold could ever replace. and no matter how much you cherish the bond that formed after hours spent on shopping, tea times and mother-daughter (in-law) vacations, you’re not kind enough to unwrap him from your little fingers.

a smile curls on your lips as you guide taehyung’s hand to yours, placing a kiss on his knuckles and watching as his own lips tuck at the corners.

you’ll just have to make it up to mother some other way.

note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!

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