#like bitch YOU will not get the car until you and your sisters sign and they wont sign bc they wanna read the will and | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

megalony · 5 months

Text

Falling For Me

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, requested by Anon. I enjoyed writing this one, I hope you all like it. Feedback and requests are always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989

911 Masterlist

Summary: When the team are called out to a mugging scene, they get more than they bargained for when they find (Y/n). Eddie's little sister. Evan's crush.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is that your girl?"

Evan lifted his eyes from his phone and looked across at Hen who was wiggling her brows and curving her lips into a wide grin. She pursed her lips and tilted her head, pretending to blow kisses his way until Evan was smothering a smile and shaking his head. He looked down at his phone and quickly shoved it back in his pocket before any of them could lean over and see who he was messaging.

"Nope."

"Hm,"

"You holding out on us, Buck?" Eddie nudged Evan's shoulder as the truck started moving and they all got comfy in their seats.

"No, no one special in my life." He was speaking the truth. Mostly. Evan wasn't in a relationship, but that didn't mean he didn't have his eye on someone he thought of as special.

He just so happened to know Eddie's little sister rather well and he thought she was amazing. But she was Eddie's sister and that meant Evan had to tread very carefully. He couldn't try anything or push the bouondaries and ruin the friendship he had with both (Y/n) and Eddie if she didn't see him in that way.

And she hadn't technically messaged him right now either. He had sent her a message earlier but hadn't heard anything back. He just wanted to check his phone since their third call out of the day was now finished, but she hadn't gotten back to him yet.

"Yeah, sure so you-" Chimney cut himself off and looked around the truck as if a sign from God had just dawned upon them when a call came through the radio from dispatch.

"Dispatch to one-eighteen. We have a scene on the corner of Park Street, attempted mugging with two casualties. Please respond."

"One-eighteen, on our way."

A chorus of groans flooded the air of the truck as everyone grabbed their headsets and put them on as the siren started to blast out again. It looked like they were no longer heading back to the station to have dinner, they would be going on another call out. Evan's shift was now extending, he was planning to have lunch with the team and go home for a long power nap. Guess not anymore.

"Do you think we'll get to make an arrest?" Evan looked out the window as the truck made a sharp right turn and sent them all squishing into each other like sardines in a tin.

They had gone to a scene before when Hen was acting Captain and she got to make an arrest while they waited for the police to turn up and apprehend the man. If this was a mugging scene and the mugger was still there, maybe they would get to arrest him as well as patch him up and wait for assistance.

"I think the police will be on their way, Buck." Bobby leaned behind him to pat Evan's shoulder.

If they were being redirected it was because they were the closest scene and they would be able to provide medical assistance quicker than sending an ambulance out. And dispatch would have to notify the police about an attack so chances were a police car would be on their way to the scene as well.

"Eddie, Hen, get a med bag each. Let's see what we've got."

Everyone climbed down from the truck and went to grab their gear and Evan followed after Bobby, trailing away from the truck to see what was going on. They could hear shouting from the moment they climbed down from the truck and there seemed to be a gathering of people hanging around.

"LAFD, make room. Can someone tell me what's happened here?" Bobby rose his voice to the crowd of five or six people gathering in a huddle near an alley. He glanced his eyes around everyone to try and see what had happened, he couldn't work out where the casualties were and dispatch said two people had been injured and needed help.

"That bitch stabbed me-"

"He attacked that girl and she stopped him getting away."

A sigh passed through Bobby's lips as he planted his hands on his hips and looked at the man who was laid on the floor. He was cradling his left thigh where a puddle of blood was trailing down his leg and dripping onto the pavement beneath him. He had a frantic look in his eyes, black gloves on his hands matching his hoodie and jeans and he had a cloth around his neck that Bobby guessed someone had pulled down to see his face.

Bobby made his way to kneel beside the attacker and silently pointed at Evan to go see where the other casualty was.

Evan had his words all formed in his head. 'Miss, it's the LAFD. Can I check you over? Are you hurt?' But he didn't get to say any of them when he moved towards the alley and caught sight of the girl in question. She was curled up on the floor, leaning against the wall at the very edge of the alley. Her body was slumped to the left, knees curled awkwardly beneath her and her arms were coiled tightly to her chest as she slowly rocked herself back and forth.

Tears drenched her face and sobs and bubbling gasps broke free from her trembling lips. But when Evan caught sight of her face, his blood ran cold and he couldn't breathe.

Oh God no.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n) it's me, it's Evan." He dropped down to his knees in front of her and held his hands out in front of him to show her he wasn't going to hurt her. He was safe. He wanted to help. "Can I-"

"Evan!" His name croaked past her lips like he was some sort of miracle or epiphany that (Y/n) had wished for.

Her trembling body pushed forward onto her knees and she thrust herself into Evan's chest before he could ask if he could help her. His arms froze in mid-air before he snapped himself back into action and slowly coiled his large frame around her like a safety blanket.

He gently smoothed his hand up and down her back, tensing when he felt her hands slip beneath his florescent jacket and her nails scratched into his shirt like sharp metal nails. Someone had tried to attack her. Someone had hurt her, here, in broad daylight. Someone had attacked Eddie's little sister, the girl Evan was sweet on.

"Buck, what we got?" Eddie slung the medic bag on his shoulder and trudged over to Evan while Chimney and Hen went to sort out the man Bobby was trying to calm down. He could hear the man shouting and cursing from over here and it made Eddie cringe. It didn't take much to guess that the man was the mugger. Sometimes Eddie didn't like the fact that they also had to look after the people comitting crimes as well as the victims.

He dropped the bag to the floor but when he knelt down beside Evan, Eddie's blood ran cold and he tensed. His jaw locked in place and his chocolate brown eyes glazed over like black holes when he looked at the girl curled up in Evan's arms.

"(Y/n)," Her name fell from his lips in a quiet whisper and he realised he was shaking. His hands were gripping the medic bag, curled around the leather until he was leaving markings in the bag. And Eddie could feel Evan nervously fidgeting beside him, unsure how anyone was going to react.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) could barely see her brother due to the tears streaming down her face and she hiccupped through her breaths.

Her arms uncurled from Evan and she started to sob harder when Eddie almost ripped her out of Evan's arms and into his own embrace.

"No, no what's happened? What the fuck did he do to you?!" Eddie brushed his hand along the back of her neck but when he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, he pulled back quickly. (Y/n) cried out into his chest, flinching down and croaking when he touched the top of her head.

His hands moved to gently cup her face and he tilted her head down so he could assess the top of her head.

Blood was smeared into her hair and trickling down the side of her face near her ear. But what made Eddie frown and caused Evan to lean over for a better look was the tiny shards of green glass they could see meshed in with her curls.

"(Y/n), what happened?" Eddie smoothed his thumb across her tear-stained cheek while his eyes raked over her for any further injuries.

When Eddie gently let her go so he could rummage around in the medic bag, (Y/n) turned to look at Evan in surprise when he shrugged off his florescent jacket and draped it around her shoulders. The action made her chest ignite for different reasons and calmed down her raging, hiccupping breaths.

Without thinking, (Y/n) leaned to the side and tucked herself back into Evan's chest as if that was where she belonged and he didn't object. He swooped his right arm around her waist while his left hand ran up and down her trembling arm to try and keep her calm.

"He… he grabbed me from behind and d-dragged me in the alley. When I wouldn't give him my bag he pushed me down… I- I did what you said,"

Her words caused Eddie to pause and look up at her in panic. What had he told her do to? What advice did he give her as a big brother? Eddie had told all three of his sisters a lot of advice over the years. He was the eldest out of them all and when their dad worked away, Eddie had to help look after them. (Y/n) was the youngest out of them all and Eddie was the closest to her which was why she had moved down to LA with him and Chris.

He had tried to give her a lot of self defense advice and teach her what to do and what not to do in certain situations.

"I had my keys on me so… so I stabbed him, I didn't want him getting away,"

"Bobby, the weapon used on him," Evan gently took (Y/n)'s keychain from her and held it out to Bobby who was stood in the middle, observing the scene as a police car rolled up. The captain nodded and placed the keys in a plastic bag.

(Y/n) remembered Eddie telling her she could use anything as a weapon if she needed to protect herself and keys were a great weapon. They were small to hide in the palm of her hand and they were metal and had jagged edges, perfect to cause a little damage and harm someone enough to make them stop.

She needed the man to get off her and he was thrashing around pinning her down, she didn't know what else to do. (Y/n) found her keys from her pocket and thrust her house key into the man's left thigh. She didn't know where her power came from and she almost threw up when she watched and felt the metal cut through his flesh.

But it stopped him from getting away. She wasn't letting him leave after attacking her.

"What did he do to your head, sweetheart?" The pet name fell past Evan's lips before he could stop himself but he was glad Eddie didn't seem to notice.

"He was screaming at me, before I could move he grabbed a bottle and h-hit me, I-" She broke off, another round of trembling tore through her body as she started to cry.

"He smashed a bottle over your head?!" Eddie tilted his head to look over at the man currently getting an IV in his arm and his trouser leg cut so they could see the extent of his leg wound. "Wait 'til he meets me, I'll shove it up his-" He broke off when he felt Evan jerk his shoulder. (Y/n) was starting to hyperventilate and Eddie going into protective mode wasn't going to help if he was going to start a fight.

"Shh, hey it's alright. You did great," Evan gently unravelled his arm from around her waist and his smile faltered when (Y/n) desperately grabbed at his arm as if she thought he was about to leave. "I'm gonna give you an IV, get rid of the shock."

Evan thought for a moment as he held (Y/n)'s hand that was digging so tightly into his exposed arm that she was starting to draw blood. She was clearly in a big state of shock if she was afraid letting go of him was going to somehow get her hurt.

"Here, hold tight." He gently prized her fingers from his arm and moved her hand to his thigh as he shuffled closer until their knees were touching. She could squeeze, scratch and grip his leg as much as she wanted and he didn't care if she punctured through his trousers into his flesh. As long as she stayed calm.

He looked through the bag and found an IV bag and a needle and he swabbed the crease of (Y/n)'s elbow before gently pushing the needle into her vein. She was in so much shock she barely flinched at the feeling.

Eddie's chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to stay calm but he couldn't. Someone had chosen to make his sister a victim, tried to hurt her and then whacked her over the head with a bottle that had smashed and cut through her skin. She was lucky she didn't have any mass bleeding and that the glass hadn't reached her skull. He could have given her swelling or cranial damage.

He slid a blood pressure cuff up (Y/n)'s left arm and checked her BP which was rather elevated but her pulse was good.

"Eddie, how is she?" Bobby moved to stand near the, unsure what was happening over here when both members of his team seemed to know this victim. And he didn't like the dark look in Eddie's eyes when he turned to face him.

"That cunt smashed a bottle over my sister's head."

"Ah. This is (Y/n). Can we get her transported? Athena's going to take him down to the hospital in custody before he goes to the station."

"I want to take some of the glass from her head first before we transport. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Eddie wasn't moving her until he had removed as much glass from her wound as he could so there was less for the doctors to do once they took her to hospital.

Whimpering, (Y/n) leaned forward and silently indicated to her back. Her fingers dug into Evan's thigh and her head pressed onto Eddie's shoulder while Evan moved closer. He hummed quietly and moved his jacket back so he could gently lift (Y/n)'s shirt and look to see where she had been hurt.

"Skin's flush and warm, might have a bit of internal bleeding. Let's get the glass out and move her." Evan traced his fingertips over (Y/n)'s left hip, near to where her kidney would be. Her skin was discoloured and very warm, she could have internal bleeding but it didn't look too worrying. She could have a scan once they got to the hospital.

"Okay, this might hurt, try and stay still for me."

Evan's brows rose in surprise when (Y/n)'s hand let go of his thigh so she could clutch onto his hand instead. She reeled his hand into her chest and leaned against his bicep while her head tilted forward so Eddie could look at her head.

Every time her body shuddered and jolted, Evan squeezed her hand and rested his other hand on her knee to try and keep her calm. His lips curled in distaste when Eddie slowly started to pluck shards of glass from her hair with a pair of tweezers. He heard Eddie whisper 'don't move' but as soon as he relieved a large shard, blood trickled down (Y/n)'s forehead and she gurgled through a scream. Her body tremored against Evan and she jolted when Eddie poured a little saline over the wound to clean it and see if there were any more pieces he could remove.

They both counted ten various sized shards of glass that Eddie placed onto a cloth on his knee.

"Let's get you to hospital," Eddie dropped a little more saline onto the three various cuts on his sister's temple before he pressed a patch of gauze over them to try and stop the blood loss and hopefully soak up any smaller shards he hadn't managed to get.

"Up we go,"

The pair held one of (Y/n)'s arms each and slowly eased her up between them, gripping her hands tightly as she started to tremble again.

Adrenaline coursed through (Y/n)'s veins and she could feel her stomach churning and jolting when she was upright. Her feet could barely pick up from the floor, she dragged her feet, scraping them against the pavement as he knees bent and she let the boys guide her towards the truck. Practically dragging her between them.

(Y/n) groaned and suddenly doubled over, snapping her eyes closed as she leaned forward and threw up onto the floor. She felt like she needed to be sick again and get rid of whatever was still in her stomach but all she could do was cough and gasp for each breath as another round of tears started to fall.

Leaning down, Eddie looped his sister's arm around the back of his neck and gripped her waist tightly with his left arm so he could take her weight for her. He let Chimney and Hen climb into the truck first as the mugger was patched up and already in Athena's squad car.

Buck clambered up next and turned round to reach down for (Y/n). He gently but firmly gripped her forearms and hoisted her up the steps as Eddie held her waist and eased her up between them.

"Alright… let's put these on so you don't go deaf, hm?"

A small smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips when Evan eased her down into a chair and crouched between her thighs like he belonged there. He strapped her in and grabbed a headset, trying to get them over her ears without touching the top of her head. He slipped the band over the back of her head so it was nowhere near the cuts in the centre of her head and squished himself into the seat between (Y/n) and the window as Eddie sat on her left.

They didn't have the ambulance with them on this call out so it was a relief (Y/n) didn't have any nerve damage and that she could walk so they didn't have to radio for an extra ambulance. They could just take her to the hospital in the truck.

"Is this your sister?" Hen looked between (Y/n) and Eddie, already noticing the resemblance and the way Eddie gripped her thigh showed he cared deeply for her. But he couldn't find it in himself to smile when he nodded silently to her question. He didn't want them all to meet like this.

"Chris… I- I have to pick him up," (Y/n) slumped her head back onto Evan's shoulder so she could look up at Eddie.

She was supposed to collect Chris from school since Eddie was on shift today. She couldn't wait around in the emergency room to get checked out when she had to pick her nephew up. There wasn't enough time to find someone else to go and get him.

"I'll get him, don't think I'm leaving you alone like this."

"I could, you know, I could go get him. My shift's technically over, I can take (Y/n) home and get Chris later, you're still on shift." Evan ran his hands up and down his thighs as he looked between (Y/n) and Eddie, smiling at her head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

He was done now, his shift ended after their last call. Instead of Eddie having to cancel his shift and both of them leaving the team short, Evan could look after them both for him. He would stay at the hospital with (Y/n) and take her home and collect Chris later. He loved spending time with both of them and (Y/n) shouldn't be alone right now.

"Are you sure? Is that alright?" Eddie looked from Evan down to his sister because he would stay with her if she asked him to. But her lips curved into a smile and she leaned further into Evan, nudging her nose against his neck while she closed her eyes.

She wanted to go to sleep. She didn't mind who stayed with her as long as she wasn't left alone at the hospital.

"We'll drop you both off here then Buck. Call when you need a lift back," Bobby turned to look in the back of the truck, nodding at them both. This was where they would part ways, at the paramedic entrance to the hospital. They could easily come and pick them up when they were ready since Evan was still in his uniform and his jeep was back at the station.

"Will do."

Eddie kissed his sister's temple, muttering a quiet 'love you' into her skin as his palm pressed into her lower back to help her get up.

Evan jumped down from the truck, leaving his helmet in the back along with his gloves while his jacket was still wrapped around (Y/n). He held his hands up towards her with a dopey grin that made (Y/n) really want to smile, if it weren't for the lightheaded feeling that overtook her.

She could barely feel her feet that skidded against the steps causing the team to gasp as Eddie bolted forward and Hen reached out to grab her arm. But they didn't have to worry when Evan jumped forward and grabbed her before she fell down.

An arm secured around her waist with his palm splayed out on her back and his other arm looped around her thighs just beneath her bum. Evan cocked a grin as he pulled back with (Y/n) in his arms.

"I gotcha." Evan lowered her down a little in his arms but kept hold of her and kept her feet from the floor. Walking in was going to prove long and stressful whereas Evan could just carry her inside to make things easier. "Let's go, sweetheart." He stepped back onto the curb, nodding at the team that he had her safe and sound and he bit back a smile when he felt (Y/n)'s arms loop around his neck and her face tucked into the crook of his neck.

"Thank you,"

***

(Y/n) smiled gratefully at the nurse and took the small white bag of antibiotics from her which she stuffed into her bag.

Two hours. It had taken two hours to get all the glass removed from her head, have one of the cuts glued shut from how deep it was, take a dose of morphine. And then go up for a scan to make sure she had no internal bleeding.

(Y/n) was ready to go home and she was thankful it had timed perfectly for her and Evan to go and collect Chris. Evan didn't have to leave her alone at the hospital to get Chris and then come back for her. He had stayed by her side like a bodyguard. Arms crossed over his chest and a stoic, protective look on his face.

He let (Y/n) dig her nails into his arm that she had already scratched earlier and he had kissed her temple when all the glass was removed.

"You're free to go."

"Thank you," (Y/n) nodded briefly at the nurse before she rummaged around in her bag. "Bobby still has my keys." Evan had given them to Bobby to show what she had attacked her assailant with. The keychain held her house keys and Eddie's keys for when she collected Chris while he was at work.

"I'll get them for you when we get back to the station, hopefully they will be cleaned up." It wouldn't be great to have her keys still caked in blood. Evan doubted that Athena would take the keys into evidence or take them to the hospital. The mugger had been patched up by the team, he only went to the hospital for any shots he might need and pain relief along with an all clear.

"I didn't wanna hurt him, I- I just-"

"Hey, he attacked you. He could have given you a bleed on the brain, you had every right to stab the bastard. Does it still hurt?"

Evan looked down at her head which looked pretty nasty from his height advantage point. She had a cut down the middle of her head that broke through her hairline into her forehead but it was more superficial than painful. The one that had been glued was now swelling up and would be bruised and tender in a few hours. (Y/n) wouldn't be able to wash her hair or touch her head for a week and she would be living with constant headaches for a while.

"A little, I feel… woozy." (Y/n) managed a smile as she gripped the edge of the bed she was sat on and pushed up to her feet.

The morphine took away most of the pain and sickness but now she felt drugged, wobbly and like her head weighed more than the rest of her body.

Her lips parted in a gasp when her feet bent awkwardly beneath her and her knees pushed forward into Evan's thighs. His hands reached out to grab her waist and he reeled her into his chest with ease, tilting his chin down so he could look at her through the height difference.

A smile wormed onto his face and his eyes creased at the corners as he smiled down at her with that dopey yet cocky grin that made (Y/n)'s stomach flutter.

"You keep falling for me today, huh?" His thumbs brushed up and down her exposed hips and his head tilted to the side as he stared at her wishfully.

"Seems so,"

(Y/n) kept her eyes level with his chest while she slowly dragged her fingertips up his biceps and along his shoulders until her thumbs could brush against his neck. She finally dared to lift her head up enough to meet his gaze that was piercing through her like there was a question burning in his mind that he was desperate to know the answer to.

"I guess I'd better get used to catching you then,"

The feeling of Evan's lips on hers made (Y/n) shiver and when she pushed up on her toes and swiped her thumb across his jaw, she felt his hands tighten around her hips. He pulled her chest flush against his and leaned down to catch her at a better angle.

His teeth bit her lower lip while his hand trailed up her side, gliding his fingertips across her skin to make her flush and squirm against him. He cupped her chin between his finger and thumb, nuzzling his nose into hers when they parted. (Y/n) could feel each breath he gasped against her lips and the moment she looked up into those ocean blue eyes, she felt her knees giving way.

If this was falling, (Y/n) never wanted to land.

#buck imagine #buck x reader #maddie buckley #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz x reader #bobby nash

583 notes · View notes

sturniololoco · 5 months

Note

hi i know you just did a sturniolo little sister fic but could you do one where she gets into a fight at school because someone was talking shit to her about her looks or something and she won the fight or whatever but she was in a lot of trouble and matt picked her up from school then like something sweet with everybody and maybe a little bit more with matt cause matt is like my comfort person ?

Fight

Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: blood, fighting, etc.

SLS’s POV

All I remember thinking was I’m about to beat this bitch up.

So that’s what I did.

Usually a wouldn’t let a dumb bitch calling me names bother me. But when she compared me to my famous triplet brothers, then called me names right after?

That set me off.

“I can tell the rest of the family got the good looking genes. Look at her then look at her brothers! No wonder she’s only in three of their YouTube videos!” A girl in the hallway said to a bunch of giggling girls.

I throw my books to the floor and walk over to her, breathing heavy. Most of her friends scurry away, shrieking dramatically, but two stay.

I get right up close to her face, pushing her into the lockers. At this point we had an audience.

“What the fuck is wrong you? You-“ I start to say, but then I’m being smacked with a 610 page biology text book, the corner hitting my eye, while the rest practically breaks my nose.

One of the girls stupid friends tried to help her. I stumbled back, turning away from the girl against the locker to see you hit me. The girl, who was now behind me, frantically ran into a nearby classroom.

“Oh you really shouldn’t have fucking done that.” I say, immediately pouncing on her and taking her to the floor.

She was helpless, trying to slap at my bloody and bruised face. I grabbed her hand and put them behind her back, pushing her head into the floor.

I was about to tell her who the fuck she was messing with, when all of the sudden, arms were around my waist pulling me of the girl.

I look up to see Mr. Howard, my Chemistry teacher, who also happens to be the varsity football coach.

“Get to the office Sturniolo! No detors!” He barked at me, letting me go. I kicked my books while walking down the hallway to the office, yelling,

“She’s the one who fucking started it!” And I stick my middle finger up, not even bothering to look back at the girl, crying on the floor, worried about her skirt that I got my blood on.

“SLS/N, I know you’re a good kid. You’re on the all A’s honor roll, you’ve never gotten detention, and you’ve never been sent here before this. What happened that got you so upset?” My principal asked me as I sat across from him.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” I mumbled, chewing my nails because I knew how much trouble I was in.

“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you for three days and call your brother to come pick you up.” He said, giving me a sad but knowing look.

“Fine, but I’d call mat if I was you. He’s the only one who can drive.” I say, picking up my stuff and walking straight out of his office to wait for my brother.

Matt walked in, looking upset and down cast, but when he saw my bloody nose and black eye, his face contorted into a look of complete shock. I didn’t stand up.

He signed me out and quietly thanked the lady at the front desk. He then walked over and needed in front of me. I averted his eyes as I felt the tears stabbing at my own. He must have noticed because he said,

“Hey it’s okay kiddo, we’ll talk later.” He the stood, slung my back pack over his shoulder and grabbed my hand as we made our way to the car.

The car ride was pretty quiet, except for my occasional sniffles as the pain from my nose and eye began to set in. I didn’t realize where we were until Matt pulled into the Mcdonalds parking lot and put the car in park.

He got out of the car and rationed me to follow him, as he walked towards the front door. As he held the door open for me, I pulled my hood up, to cover my bloody face.

Matt went up and ordered while I got us a booth all the way in the back, and pulled out my phone.

12 Snapchat notifications and 16 text. All about the fight. I put my phone down and tried to stop the tears threatening to spill, when Matt came back with two chocolate milkshakes and two large fries.

He sat across from me and we began eating, but I still averted eye contact.

“Look at me SLS/N.”

I looked up and he gave me a sad smile.

“you know we have to talk about it, so we might as well get it over with.”

I sighed and began telling him the story. About how the girls at school would always compare me to my brothers and call me ugly names.

“It just gets really hard sometimes when you feel like you have strict expectations to live up to, ya know?” I say, some of my tear slipping to make streaks of blood down my face.

“hey I completely understand. I know what it’s like to be compared to Nick and Chris. It’s the only way people could ever tell us apart!” He says earning a small chuckle from me.

“you just need to learn not to get to fired up about it, and just know that people will be mean, but they don’t know the real you, and how perfect you are. No one compares to you because everyone’s unique. And I am so proud to have you as a sister, and so are Nick and Chris.”

I nod, knowing I wouldn’t be able to talk without sobbing.

“And speaking of Nick and Chris, I haven’t told them yet. But If you want, I can talk to them instead of you having to explain everything again. Sound like a plan?” He says.

I nod again, thankful that I wouldn’t have to go through this again.

We pulled into the drive way, and before I opened the car door to go inside, I had to take a deep calming breath, knowing I’ll be walking into a dozen questions.

“Hey, you got this kiddo!” Matt says grabbing and squeezing my hand lightly, before walking up and opening the front door.

As soon as I step foot into the kitchen, Nick is all over me.

“Oh my fuck, SLS/N! What the fuck happened?” He yelled, picking me up and sitting me in the island, then sprinting to the bathroom for a wash cloth.

“I beat a bitch up.” I say plainly, earning a laugh from Matt. Chris comes up to me and gives me a fist bump.

“Damn sis, you look tough!” He says ruffling my hair. I giggle.

“Christopher!” I hear Nick scold as he walks back in the room. Chris puts his hands up in mock defense.

Nick gently wipes most of the blood off my face, the gives me a sock filled with ice to put on my eye and nose, which were now purple.

“Okay, now spill. What the fuck happened?” Nick says. I look at Matt, who quickly stands from the couch and says,

“Actually Nick, come in here, I need to talk to you and Chris for a sec. Why don’t you go hop in the shower bud.” Mat says.

I give him a quiet okay and hop off the counter and head to the bathroom, taking my ice-sock with me.

Getting all that blood off my face and out of my hair felt so good, no matter how dark blue, green, and purple my nose was. I threw on a pair of sweats and one of Chris’s Fresh Love hoodies, before walking down stairs and to the living room.

Matt, Nick, and Chris were all sitting on the couch, getting ready to watch a show.

Matt motions me over to sit with him, so I grab a new sock of ice, a blanket from the basket and snuggle up with him.

“I think I could get used to this for the next three days.” I joke, snuggling close into Matt’s chest. He chuckles and rubs my back comfortably.

I slowly feel myself driving off, due to the long days events, but not before I hear my brother let out a soft,

“I love you kiddo.”

I hope this is what you were asking for! ❤️

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #Sturniolo sister

276 notes · View notes

gravehags · 9 months

Text

unraveling a stitch

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: mushy gushy feelings, first meetings, Imperator serving cunt, reader thinks she's going to be murdered, ministry backstory

Words: 1,981

Summary: This is the weirdest job interview you've ever had.

a/n: ok this ended up being like 1,500 words of conversation between reader and Sister Imperator but one thing about me is I'm a bitch who loves backstory so

divider by @gothdaddyissues!

To say you are nervous would be putting it extremely fucking lightly.

You’re sitting in the back of a car - a very nice car at that - and being driven out to somewhere in the middle of the countryside. Idly, you hope that Sister Imperator isn’t actually some kind of serial killer. She seemed nice enough on the…what was the system they used? Doom call? The preliminary interview went well, you thought. You had managed to succinctly answer all of the questions the older woman had thrown your way, surprising even yourself with the calmness in your voice. So impressed was she by you that she asked you fly out - fucking fly out - to visit her at what she deemed “The Abbey.” When she emailed you a ticket confirmation later that night, you were stunned.

And now, here you are.

You had left the airport about an hour ago, meeting up with the large man who stood stoically in the arrivals area with a small sign bearing your name. The driver has remained silent the entire drive, but every once in a while you catch him glancing at you in the rearview mirror. When you crest a hill and descend into a forested valley you gasp audibly at the sight. A vast collection of stone structures - probably the size of a university - sit within the trees. You gaze out the window with your jaw dropped as you drive through a multitude of well-manicured lawns and gardens towards an enormous gate, which opens as the car approaches. The driver pulls in and continues down a long driveway up to a large wooden door.

Oh shit, you think, this is happening.

Panicked, you adjust your hair and straighten your skirt before clambering out of the car. You turn to thank the driver but he’s already gone. Weird.

��Welcome,” a warm female voice says from behind you. The woman from your interview, Sister Imperator, stands in the doorway and for the first time you’re finally able to get a good look at her. She’s a handsome woman, her grey hair in a neat bun, wearing a suit. Very prim and proper, you think, until your gaze turns downwards and you see the electric red stilettos on her feet.

Oh work, grandma.

You smile and look back up at her, meeting her incisive gaze. You can imagine what she was like in her youth - hell maybe what she’s like now - and the men she’s cut down to size.

“Hello, Sister,” you say, extending your hand for her, which she takes in both of hers. “Thank you for having me.”

She steps sideways and gestures for you to enter the impressive stone building. When you walk in your jaw drops at the gorgeous stained glass that illuminates the space with bouncing colors.

“Wow,” you say, slowly turning in a circle to drink everything in.

“I’m pleased you like it,” she says with a small smile, guiding you down the hall, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy many things the Abbey has to offer.”

The walk to her office is quiet, punctuated by the crisp snap of her heels on the marble floor. Your little black heeled witch boots, which you had thought were quite chic, pale in comparison. After climbing a flight of stairs you reach a solid door at the end of a hallway, which she opens for you. The room inside is equally as impressive as the rest of the Abbey, with high ceilings and large windows that look upon a green little courtyard. She takes a seat behind the large desk and gestures for you to take yours, which you do with some anxiety.

“Thank you for this opportunity,” you say, fingers tangling in your lap.

She smiles again. “Of course, dear. I will be blunt with you, I may have misled you regarding this interview and indeed…about this job.”

Your own smile slowly drops, as does your stomach.

“What,” you begin nervously, eyes darting around the room, “what do you mean by that?”

Shit, shit, shit. You really were fucking stupid, just agreeing to come out here to the middle of nowhere to meet a woman you’ve met once over the fucking internet. Your mind reels back to the serial killer thought you had earlier and you’re convinced you’re going to die here and this woman is going to bury you under a topiary.

She must see the panic in your eyes because she holds up her hands in an assuaging gesture. “You’re perfectly safe, I apologize for my ominous wording. What I mean to say is the nature of this collection is quite…sensitive. As is our organization who holds it.”

Your shoulders drop from their tense fight-or-flight position and you sigh. You feel silly as you clear your throat.

“Er…what exactly is this organization? You call it the Abbey and you carry the title of Sister…is this some sort of religious institution?”

“Yes,” she begins slowly, eyeing you cautiously, “ah, if I may ask…do you hold any religious beliefs? I apologize for the intrusive nature of this question but it is relevant.”

“Oh, um. I don’t,” you say, slightly hushed, “I’m sorry, I’m not Catholic or a believer of…well anything really.”

You’re taken aback when she sighs in relief.

“Oh good,” she says, steepling her fingers. Good?

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” you say after a beat, confused. “You want someone who isn’t religious to care for your collection?”

“Let’s just say we want someone more ah…open minded.”

You’re growing frustrated with the way she’s dancing around the truth and you frown.

“Sister Imperator, I don’t mean to be blunt but can you please just tell me what it is you do here?”

Her lip curls into a wry half-smile, clearly pleasantly surprised by your directness.

“The Ministry,” she begins, “represents those devoted to the cult of the Olde One. We are as old an institution as the Catholic Church yet far more…subtle in our ways. Out of necessity, you understand.”

Your jaw drops a little.

“You’re Satanists?” It’s more of a statement than a question and she’s pleased you’ve put two and two together.

“Indeed. We’re a small but mighty group that is spread throughout the world. This location,” she gestures to the walls around her, “is like our Vatican. Our collection here is that of Satanic art throughout history and requires someone with a special understanding of our church but most of all a level of education and expertise that many here lack.”

You’re stunned. You had no idea these people existed beyond individual belief systems and teenagers rebelling against their parents.

“If this is your Vatican,” you begin slowly, “does that mean you have a pope?”

Sister Imperator lets out a dry little laugh.

“All in good time, my dear. But first I must tell you, this ‘interview’ is entirely a formality. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve had the job since we ended that call.”

Your shock and wonder rapidly turns into joy as a grin splits your features. You fucking did it.

“Oh my God,” you blurt out, “wait, sorry. Is that offensive?”

When the sister snorts out a far more genuine laugh this time, you beam at her.

“Does this mean you accept the position?”

“Yes,” you say a little too quickly. The opportunity to work with an art collection held by fucking Satanists has you spinning. “Absolutely.”

“Wonderful,” she says, clapping her hands together and standing. “We’ll sort out the details of your employment and your move to the Abbey later but for now there is someone I would like you to meet.”

You dutifully follow her out of her office, practically floating as she leads you down the hall and down the stairs. You exit onto an open-air cloister and you encounter the first people other than the sister and the driver you’ve seen here. People of all genders in black habits of all styles - some very racy, you notice with a blush - congregate and walk down the halls. Sister Imperator leads you through and you notice the way they shy away from her in either deference or fear. It’s hard to say which.

She stops at a closed door and waves a hand towards it.

“This will be your office,” she says lightly, “it once belonged to our dear departed Cardinal von Shreck who was previously in charge of our collection. His work, however, fell to the wayside in recent years with his declining health. You will be inheriting quite a mess of paperwork from him, I’m afraid.”

You shrug.

“I’ve had worse,” you respond and Imperator continues down the hall and makes a left. The Abbey is massive, you think, much larger than you previously thought. Once again she stops at a door and gives you a brief smile before knocking.

“Entrare!” comes a muffled voice, and she pushes the door open.

The room is cozy but beautiful, filled with books and papers. But that’s not what draws your eye.

Making his way towards you and the sister from behind the desk is a man. He wears a vivid red cassock with an unusual bejeweled symbol you make a note to ask Sister Imperator about later. On his head is an angular hat and you smile at how it looks like he’s wearing horns. He’s not tall, but he still makes for a surprisingly commanding presence when he moves before you. Now that he’s closer you can better see the rest of him - his startling mismatched eyes surrounded by black paint, his swept back brown hair littered with silver, the pristine sideburns, his large, straight nose and the neat little mustache underneath it. Everything about him is charming, you think. Even dashing.

And then you realize you’re staring.

Imperator notices and gives you a peculiar look.

“This is Cardinal Copia,” she finally announces, “you will be consulting with him as you work with our collection.”

Cardinal, you think. Wow.

“Your Eminence,” you say, extending your hand. Sister Imperator smirks at the title and Copia blushes. Not missing a beat, he takes your bare hand in one of his gloved ones and lifts it to his mouth to place a slightly damp kiss on the back. His black lipstick leaves a little mark on you and you feel a flutter in your belly.

“No ‘Eminence’, signorina,” he finally speaks, his voice filled with nervous energy, “Simply Copia.”

You beam at him, you can’t help yourself, there's just something about him that makes you feel warm and mushy inside. He’s barely spoken half a dozen words and already you know that there’s something special about this man.

“Poor von Shreck,” Copia says, wringing his hands, “we lament his loss, but I am glad to see that Sister has found such an excellent replacement. And such a lovely one at that.”

He looks stricken with fear as soon as the words leave his mouth and you flush from head to toe.

“I’ve heard he’s left behind quite a bit of work, but I’m sure I’ll be able to tackle it, especially with your help.” Your smile is encouraging and he seems to relax a little under your kind gaze.

“Indeed. I am at your service, signorina,” he says with a little bow that makes you giggle. Clearly having reached her limit of the two of you interacting, Imperator places a hand on your shoulder to guide you out.

“I’ll see you soon, Cardinal,” you say with a little wave as the sister steers you out of his office. He gives a little wave back and you find that after the door shuts you miss his presence already. Imperator eyes the goofy smile on your face shrewdly before starting back down the hallway to her office. You follow, feeling as if butterflies are ricocheting off the inside of your stomach.

Cardinal Copia, you think. What a lovely man.

#cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia #copia #the band ghost #the band ghost fic #rachel writes

117 notes · View notes

shion-yu · 4 months

Text

Not Your Fault (part 1)

Part 1! Alex, Shu’s foster son, is suspended and not feeling well. Ryo is his safe place. For my @badthingshappenbingo space space “Leave Me Alone.” Original work, 2,718 words, no TW, CW mentions of past parental drug use/death, Alex is 13 here.

Alex's mom never cared whether or not he showed up to school as long as he stayed out of her way, so he didn't understand why Shu thought it was such a big deal when he played hooky or cut the classes he didn't like. Now he was being suspended for the third time in the school year since coming to live with Shu, this time for calling the teacher a bitch when she pointed out his absence during fourth period. He'd shown up during her class, so why the hell did she care about the last class? It's not like he had been doing anything bad - he'd been taking a nap in the old science lab nursing a headache that wouldn't go away.

Not that he told them that, but it made him so angry that they assumed he was always up to trouble that he didn't bother. They probably wouldn't have believed him anyways.

He ended up in the office until Shu had to leave work again to talk to the principal and school counselor, and then brought Alex home for the rest of the week where he was to write a formal letter of apology to the teacher. Alex had tried to refuse, but Shu interrupted him loudly saying, "He'll do it," and dragged him home.

The drive back was near silent. Alex crossed his arms defensively and leaned against the door, staring out the window as they drove back to Shu's small two bedroom home. Alex pressed his forehead against the cold glass. It helped the persistent headache a little, but not much. They were just around the block when Shu said, "The principal told me usually the policy is three suspensions in one year and you're out. But given your situation they'll give you one more chance."

Alex could tell Shu wanted him to take this as a sign to shape up, but instead he scowled and said, "Whoop dee doo," with the utmost sarcasm.

Shu winced and was quiet again until they pulled into the driveway of the house. Alex quickly unbuckled and was ready to jump out of the car but Shu said, "Alex, wait."

Listening to Shu was not Alex's forté. He was thirteen and didn't feel like listening to anybody, let alone the prim and proper Shu who just happened to be fostering him. Alex wondered more than once if Shu was just doing it for the check and had decided he'd make it as not-worth it as possible to test that theory. It required no extra work - Alex was always unpleasant without trying.

Alex yanked at the car door handle to exit but Shu hit the automatic locks before he could. "What?" Alex snapped, facing him indignantly. Shu opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked like he couldn't figure out how he wanted to answer Alex. Alex rolled his eyes. This was a waste of time and he didn't have the resolve to wait for idiot Shu any longer. He wanted to get into bed and hide under the covers where he could shut out the whole world. He turned to open the door again when Shu put a hand on his forearm. Alex flinched and pulled it away immediately, gripping his arm with the other hand as if Shu had burned him. "What the fuck? Don't touch me!"

Shu held his hands up defensively. "Sorry, sorry," he said. Alex glared venomously at him. He hated being touched and Shu knew that. "But Alex, please, if you get expelled I don't know if I can keep you. They might take you away from me." Shu sounded like he was pleading and it just made Alex more angry. He didn't want to play this stupid game with Shu; he didn’t want to listen to Shu pretend to care.

"So? I told you to leave me alone," Alex snapped defiantly. "It's not like you're my dad."

"And I'm not trying to be," Shu said. "But I am trying to be your guardian, and that means I want the best for you. One of my coworkers said they took their sister's foster kid away when he got expelled. I don't want that to happen to us."

"Why not?" Alex said, eyes flashing dangerously in anger. "You'd be way happier without me."

"That's not true," Shu said sadly. "I don't want to lose you."

"Why?" Alex challenged him. "I make your life hell when you were living your perfect little suburban life before me."

"It's true that life was easier," Shu said, surprising Alex with his honesty for once. "But it was also empty. You're right, I'm not your dad. But I am your family now and I think you're a really great kid."

Alex looked at Shu like he was insane. "Great kid? I literally just got suspended and the only reason I'm not expelled is ‘coz the principal feels bad I'm messed up." Or Mr. Goodson just thought it was a bad look to expel the kid whose mom died blowing up the meth lab inside their apartment only a few months ago. Alex didn't know and he didn't care. He hated when people felt bad for him. His head pulsed painfully.

“The reason you’re not suspended is because I begged him for one more chance,” Shu said. Oh, so that's what Shu was doing when he took so long just him and Mr. Goodson in the office for like an hour while Alex sat on the bench in the corner picking skin off his cuticles. "I told him I couldn't lose you."

"Lose me? Like a puppy?" Alex snarled. "This is dumb. Get a dog if you're lonely. I'll only hurt you." He opened the door and stalked down the suburban sidewalk with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Where are you going?" He heard Shu’s desperate voice call after him.

"Leave me alone!" Alex shouted, not looking back. His head throbbed and he swallowed back some nausea that had risen to his throat. Ugh, it was still annoyingly cold for early April. Alex shivered and wrapped his arms around himself as he stalked down the street angrily. He needed a cigarette, but this stupid neighborhood wasn't the kind where he could just pay someone at the corner store to buy him some. It was too nice for that shit to fly around here.

Alex walked the three blocks to Ryo's house before remembering Ryo was still at school. It didn't matter, he would still rather be here. Alex scaled the wooden privacy fence easily and then climbed into the tree house that sat in a tree in Ryo's backyard. In the months since they'd become friends, Alex had found this to be his favorite place. Shu didn't know about it and nobody came up here to bother him. It was just him and Ryo, or right now, just him.

Alex felt a chill go through him and he pulled his knees up close to his chest. Usually when they came up here to hang out Ryo would bring a blanket, but they hadn't left one up here this time. Alex coughed into his crossed arms, which reminded him how much his throat and head hurt. The cold, wooden platform was uncomfortable but it was quiet and Alex found his eyes drooping in no time.

Shu definitely thought he was off causing trouble, Alex thought to himself. The guy acted nice, but in the end he was probably the same as all of the adults. Ready to throw him away as soon as he became too inconvenient or got in the way. Shu had lasted a lot longer than Alex had expected, but it wouldn’t be for much longer at this rate.

"Alex?"

Alex startled awake to find Ryo at the entrance of the treehouse, peering at him curiously. "What're you doing here?" Alex mumbled.

"It's my backyard," Ryo laughed and climbed the rest of the way in. He sat in front of Alex cross legged. "You're shivering."

"S'cold."

"It's not that cold," Ryo said, frowning. He took off his own jacket and wrapped it around Alex. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Alex grunted. "Suspended again. Is school already over?"

"Yeah," Ryo said. "Mom told me Shu called the house to see if you were here. She said you weren't, but she didn't check up here."

Alex managed a thin smile. "But you knew to check?"

"Course," Ryo grinned back. They looked at each other for a long moment which was broken only by Alex quickly ducking his face into his elbow and sneezing loudly.

"Heeee' etchiew! Guh..."

The congestion that the sneeze moved around tickled Alex's throat and he began to cough roughly. Ryo grimaced. "Let's go to my bedroom," he said. "You don't look so good."

"I'mb find," Alex said stuffily, his voice betraying him. He shivered, his body also doing him no favors in hiding his apparent unwellness. *"Don't you have homew - wah... W'etchiew! Ugh. Homb worgk?"

"I won't be able to concentrate on it knowing you're up here sick," Ryo said, ignoring Alex's immediate retort of "Ndot sick." "You can warm up in my bed, how's that?" The temptation of being under the covers in Ryo's comfy bed was too much when Alex was feeling so cold and achy, so he gave in and they climbed down from the treehouse one by one.

Ryo led Alex into the house. His mom was in the kitchen and looked at Alex, a little startled. Alex knew she wasn't the biggest fan of him, the new brooding bad boy hanging around her golden child. But she wasn't mean either. "Alex! Shu called looking for you."

Alex waved one hand in the air noncommittally, coughing into the other arm. "Can we have some hot chocolate mom?" Ryo asked. "We're gonna go study in my room."

"Sure honey. After I call Shu back," she said. Alex groaned internally. This meant that Shu would be at Ryo's doorstep in about ten minutes to drag him home. He wanted to take a real nap in Ryo's bed, not get nagged by Mr. Goody Two-shoes again. He'd take what he could get though and followed Ryo upstairs. He dove under the covers of Ryo's bed right away, shivering.

Ryo looked at him worriedly. "Hang on," he said, darting to the bathroom and coming back with a thermometer. "See if you have a fever?"

Alex just burrowed himself deeper under Ryo's covers, grunting, "It doesn't matter. Just let me sleep." Ryo made a pouting face but didn't push it. He sat at his desk and pulled out his school work as Alex tried to warm up, but the cold had made it down to his bones and his whole body hurt. He tried to keep from shivering as much as he could, but every few seconds a strong one would escape and wrack his entire body.

Ryo's bed smelled like him. It was strangely comforting. They had become friends rather quickly when Alex had transferred into Ryo's school that November after being placed with Shu. Alex was grouchy and sullen and refused to talk, while Ryo was constantly smiling. At first Alex tried to ignore his overly eager classmate, but opposites attracted and somehow they became an unlikely, but inseparable, pair. Ryo always just seemed to know what Alex wanted, even if Alex refused to admit it himself. He was good at talking on Alex's behalf and treated Alex like a normal person rather than a feral animal to be poked with a yardstick. He was cheeky and loud and annoying, but Alex stuck with him for reasons he didn't quite understand. Ryo just made him feel safer and he never asked any questions about his past.

Alex didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he heard Shu's voice murmuring in low tones. He was finally warm and comfortable hidden under Ryo's sheets, he didn't want to leave... He waited for Shu to pull back the covers, but he didn't. Alex's eyes grew heavy again and before he knew it, he'd drifted back asleep.

It was dark when Alex finally emerged, stiff and coughing. Thick gunk was coming up now, making it hard to deny he'd moved from the sniffles into a full blown chest cold. He groaned and sat up, looking around. He was alone in the bedroom, but he could hear voices downstairs. He wrapped the throw blanket around himself and slunk down the stairs, looking for Ryo. Alex found him sitting at the dinner table with his parents and Shu, laughing. Confused, Alex thought maybe he was still dreaming. But Ryo noticed him immediately and let out a happy, "Alex!"

Alex blinked at the scene. "What's going on?" He asked hesitantly. The adults were all eyeing him with something close to pity. Ryo jumped up and dragged another chair to the table from the kitchen, patting it for Alex to sit down in.

"I didn't want to wake you up," Shu explained. "Ryo said you have a fever. How do you feel?"

"Fine," Alex lied, sitting in his newly designated chair next to Ryo. In reality he looked pretty miserable, blonde hair sticking up in all directions, nose red, voice stuffy and eyes bloodshot. He hadn't felt this sick this morning, he thought. Maybe the nap outside in the treehouse while he was already coming down with something hadn't been such a good idea.

"Are you hungry?" Ryo's mom asked. Alex shook his head no. The others seemed like they were about done and Shu stood up.

"Shall we get going?" He asked Alex, looking at Alex hopefully. Alex shrugged. It was as close to a yes as Shu was going to get. Shu thanked Ryo's parents repeatedly and Ryo gave Alex a quick hug. This was a new thing, and Ryo was the only person allowed to do it. Alex and Shu went to Shu's car and Shu drove them home.

"Mrs. Fujioka said you're welcome any time, but you ought to let me know first," Shu said. "I'd appreciate that too. I won't say no. Ryo's a good kid."

'Unlike me,' Alex supplied silently. He coughed, wincing when it sounded much wetter than the one he'd woken up with it. He'd managed to avoid Shu at breakfast so Shu wouldn't notice, but there was no point in hiding it now.

"You sound like you need to be in bed," Shu glanced at him, frowning. "How long have you been feeling sick?"

Alex didn't answer. Yesterday after school he'd started feeling off though, and he was pretty sure he'd had a fever and chills last night too because it had been impossible to get warm.

Shu sighed. "Alex, if you hadn't felt well you didn't have to go to school," he said. Alex shrugged. He hadn't wanted Shu to know, because he hadn't wanted to answer tedious questions exactly like this. "You can talk to me," Shu added.

Alex had heard so many people say that in his life who absolutely did not mean it. He wouldn't start believing it now, even if Shu was nice and never seemed to get mad at him no matter what trouble he stirred up. It was a miracle really - Alex wasn't sure he'd ever met someone as patient as Shu. He was still wary though, because that could always change someday, couldn't it?

They parked in the driveway and went into the house. Shu asked him if he was hungry again and Alex shook his head no. He just wanted to sleep. He changed into pajamas and crawled into his own bed, regretting it wasn't as warm as Ryo's had felt. Shu came in with a glass of water and two Tylenol, which he offered Alex. Alex downed them wordlessly and then flopped under the covers.

"Come get me if you feel worse, or if you need anything,” Shu told him. Once again, no answer. Alex had no intentions of going to get Shu like a little kid. He had taken care of himself for thirteen years just fine - a little cold wasn’t going to push him over the edge. He waited for Shu to leave the room before he fell asleep thinking about how Ryo had hugged him and how warm it had felt.

#shionwrites #sickfic #parental relationship #bad things happen bingo #oc: alex #oc: ryo #oc: shu #whump #fever whump #illness whump #flu whump #sicknario #leave me alone #male cold #sick whump #minor whump #OC sickfic

23 notes · View notes

adri-2022 · 2 years

Text

Village

Fandom: Chicago PD

Characters: Jay Halstead x FemReader/ OC Readers!Sister

Warnings: slight cursing/ little angst/ little fluff

Word count: 1061

Jay Halstead Materlist

A/N: Hi guys second post today. I hope you all enjoy, this a request from @rosemary2345

Don't be afraid to leave a comment!

--------

To say you felt sad was limiting your pain. Over a year ago your parents died in a car crash, leaving only one survivor, your little sister Emma, whom your parents left with you as her legal guardian. In that horrible day you met the love of your life. He's a detective at the 21st district, he’s older and very mature -so there’s an age gap-, but your parents’ accident made you realize that life is short, and you wanted to enjoy it with who you truly loved -no matter the age difference-.

Plus, he was a really good father figure to Emma, also the person who took care of Emma until you got to the district -before and after you started to date-. In that day you could only feel pain and sadness, the moment you saw little Emma in Jay’s lap, his arms wrapped around her little frame, while he tried to get her distracted, from the agonizing reality -that her parents had died right in front of her- and even though she didn’t understand that important fact, she was still scared. Jay even fought when social services tried to take her into the system before even researching for immediate family – let’s say he was very pissed-. You remember how she hugged to your neck scared by the unfamiliarity of the place and the people around her in that moment. You didn’t know how fast life could turn upside down, you hadn’t think about that, until that day. One moment you were just being hired at Chicago Med as an ER nurse and the very next you were rushing into a police station -with a very sweet and handsome cop- signing the legal guardianship of your one-year-old sister.

Now a year later you were still working at Chicago Med, Emma was turning two next weekend and your relationship with Jay was going stronger than ever. You both had agreed to take it easy for the sake of the three of you -Emma being Jay’s major reason- Jay’s friends and family turned into yours and Emma’s, and you were over the moon to actually have people in your corner every now and then. Jay would often take Emma to the district while you worked, and Hank would usually entertain her -even to the extent of buying her toys to use while Jay worked-. Everyone turned into a big village.

Today was different, because when you went to pick Emma from the district, still wearing your nurse scrubs, you encountered a very familiar and not welcomed face. Your aunt Cristina -who was never around, who didn’t even come to your parents’ funeral-.

“Cristina, what are you doing here?” “I came to take Emma with me! You really didn’t think I would leave with you” right to the point, but that made you confused, Cristina never really had a connection nor communication with either Emma nor you, and she was crazy as hell if she thought that you would just hand you sister over to her -or anyone for that matter-.

“You’re still as crazy as I remember you” “Don’t call me crazy, you bitch….” she was interrupted by a voice you knew all to well.

“HEY, why don’t you repeat that to my face, huh?” Jay said walking the remaining stairs to stand in front of you and Cristina. “This doesn’t concern you, I’m here for Emma and I’m not leaving until I get her” that made Jay’s blood boil -no way in hell he was gonna let his little girl go with this woman-.

“Like hell you are” “What is going on here?” uh huh now she’s in trouble -momma Trudy is here- “Like I said, it doesn’t concern either of you, you hand Emma over” Cristina said pointing to you. To that Trudy took a step in between Jay and Cristina, standing toe to toe with her, with a very intimidating expression.

“You aren’t taking Emma anywhere. Y/N is her legal guardian she has full custody of Emma. Now. Get. Lost. Miss piggy” Trudy said in a very low and steady voice, you had to put your hand in front of your face to prevent the laughter from coming out in this serious moment. Because you had the worst timing when doing this -something Jay was trying to deal with at the moment- as he turned around to give you a “don’t you dare” look and smirking to you.

“She doesn’t even know how to take care of that girl, for God’s sakes. She’s 21 years old and dating an older guy, who is he anyway?” Cristina said throwing her hands around and looking to both sides. At this Jay spoke up,

“Me, and you can save the ignorant talk for some other time, now leave” Cristina was about to speak up when she noticed a group of people in the stairs -that lead to the intelligence unit’s bullpen- staring her down. With Emma in the middle of them as they formed a circle protecting the little girl in case Cristina was crazy enough to try and take a step towards Emma. But you knew she wouldn’t, because a very angry Voight was leading them. Huffing she left without another word to speak.

“You guys, okay?” Adam asked taking Emma’s hand to help her get down the stairs to you. “Yeah, thank you, guys, all of you” you responded while you watched Jay bend down to pick Emma up, who immediately wrapped her hands around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. It was a sight for sore eyes -and a very attractive one to say the least-, no, stop Y/N you’re in public. Trudy then threw her arms around your shoulders, giving you a kiss in the side of the head, and turning back to her desk. The rest of you claimed the stairs back to the bullpen where Hank took Emma in his arms whispering jokes and making her giggle while walking to his office where they originally were coloring in a book before the whole show your aunt pulled.

“Thanks guys, again, I owe you big time” you said. “Is nothing, that’s what were here for” responded Hailey while the rest nodded. “It takes a village kid!” yep Hank was right it does take a village, but you were grateful that this was yours.

#jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd imagines #one chicago fic #fan fiction #jay halstead fluff

243 notes · View notes

teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 1 year

Text

Labyrinth

Stranger Things Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Summary: Being Billy Hargrove's ex-girlfriend wasn't something you'd like to be known for. Thankfully, after finally recovering from the relationship with Billy, you and Jonathan Byers found one another, and he's a constant reminder that he is the opposite of your ex.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/F/E/M: Your Favorite Eighties Movie

Charlie -> Your Sister

Warnings:

Slight language

Toxic relationship (doesn't go into detail)

Jonathan Byers x-readers

(Third Person View)

Y/N and her grandmother sat on the couch, watching her little sister for the evening. Her parents were gone for the weekend to attend some high school reunion. Billy and Y/N were to go to the movies later after Billy had a shift at the mechanic shop. Y/N's grandmother would stay for the rest of the night while Y/N goes out with her boyfriend.

A honk sounded from the end of the driveway. Y/N stood up from the couch to grab her purse beside the couch. "Have fun, love. We'll be here," her grandmother said. Y/N smiled and hugged her before kissing the top of Charlie's head. Y/N quickly left and headed to Billy's Camero.

She knew he'd get impatient if she was even one minute past their pick-up time. Billy didn't even meet her at the front, nor did he open the passenger door for her. "What movie are we seeing?" she asked, setting the pocketbook on her lap. He shrugged and pulled out of the neighborhood. Y/N held onto the armrest as he sped down the street.

Billy wasn't one to obey the speed limit. He often blamed it on the different limits in California. Y/N sighed, looking out at the sun. "What was that sigh for?" he asked. "Nothing. Just tired," she answered. He whipped down another street after surprisingly waiting at the light.

He never seemed to care about Y/N's feelings. She sometimes wondered why she was even dating him. Though, you can't blame her. At the beginning of their relationship, he appeared harmless. He presented himself as most guys she's dated before. He even had that smile that charmed every mom that came across him.

A fifty-five speed-limit sign caught Y/N's eye. She looked at the dashboard. The speedometer said he was going seventy miles. A few minutes passed, and he pulled into the parking lot of the theatre. "Oh, Tommy and Daniel are going to join us," Billy grabbed his wallet from the console.

He stepped out of the car, preventing her from answering. "Wait, What?" she said. He rolled his eyes and fixed the collar of his jacket. Tommy and Daniel got out of their car. Both of them were laughing to themselves.

It only hurts this much right now That was what I was thinking the whole time Breathe in, breathe through Breathe deep, breathe out

Y/N's so-called boyfriend walked over to his two friends. One of which used to be Steve's friend, up until Steve broke it off with Tommy and Carol. "Look at this pretty little thing," Daniel smirked. Billy put an arm around Y/N's shoulders, pulling her roughly against his chest. She faked a smile.

The four of them walked into the theatre and chose Fright Night. Billy's girlfriend wanted to watch Y/F/E/M, but neither of the boys wanted to. Billy sat between Tommy and Daniel while Y/N sat on the end. She glanced to her right to see Billy pull a blunt from his pocket.

Since the teens were sitting at the very top, Billy thought he could do anything. Tommy reached over and handed Daniel the lighter before giving it to Billy. Y/N rolled her eyes with crossed her arms. She looked at both exits to see if anyone would be coming through.

"You want one?" Daniel gestured the blunt towards Y/N. He held the lighter in the other hand. She shook her head and looked at the movie screen. "Bitch doesn't smoke. I keep telling her it won't fucking hurt her," Billy scoffed. She watched him as he ignored Tommy and Daniel's loud laughs. Y/N looked around the crowd to see if she could find someone she knew.

She hoped her best friend, Jonathan Byers, was in the audience with his brother Will. They would frequently see horror movies together. The trailers appeared before the movie actually began. Y/N hugged her arms, snacking on her favorite candy. She desperately tried to ignore the strong smells coming from the three boys.

I'll be getting over you my whole life You know how scared I am of elevators Never trust it if it rises fast It can't last

Y/N leaned forward to see what Billy was doing. Of course, his attention was on the blunt and the screen. Y/N glanced down at her watch, seeing that it was 5:30.

If she could sneak out, she'd be able to call one of her friends to swing by. The credits began playing, an eerie and unsettling melody in the background. Tommy snickered at something Daniel or Billy muttered. Y/N slipped her arms through the sleeves of her soft cardigan. She grabbed her purse and set the strap around her shoulder.

The boys were facing the opposite direction of her. She crouched and walked down the steps. Thankfully, the darkness of the theatre covered her figure. She sighed in relief when she exited. Y/N looked behind her every once in an awhile before spotting a phone booth.

She dropped some coins into the slot and dialed the Byers' number. Y/N leaned against the side. Her fingers fiddled with the long cord, her eyes focusing on the theatre door she came through. "Hello?" Jonathan greeted.

"Johnny, it's Y/N/N," she said. She heard him tell his mom that it was me calling. Y/N could already picture that cheery smile on her best friend's face she loved. They've known one another since they were in fifth grade. "What's up? Everything okay?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she replied, "Could you come to Hawkins Theatre and pick me up? I'm not feeling well and just want to come home."

Jonathan said of course and hung up the phone. She escaped through the theatre's entrance. It didn't take long until Jonathan appeared. He parked the car beside Y/N with a smile on his face. She noticed Will sitting in the back. He wore his favorite blue and red shirt.

His older brother glanced at him and then up at Y/N. He raised his brows and smiled. "Hey," he greeted (GIF Above), "Sorry. Will wanted to see you." Y/N waved to Will and sat in the front seat. When she stepped in, here came Billy and his uninvited buddies trailing behind.

Y/N shrunk in the seat with a hand covering her face. Jonathan glimpsed at the rearview mirror to see Billy heading over. Jonathan tore out of the spot and headed straight to Y/N's neighborhood. Y/N couldn't help but smile at Jonathan's constant reassurance that everything would be okay.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love Oh no, I'm falling in love again Oh, I'm falling in love I thought the plane was going down How'd you turn it right around

During the entire ride to the Y/L/N household, Jonathan told Y/N that he wouldn't let Billy bother her. He knew the two of them had been in a rough spot lately. Will would chime in occasionally with a witty joke or a cute story about DND. Afterwards, the two hung out in her room while Will and Charlie played some card games.

______

(Y/N's Point of View, a few months later)

My back rested against the thick tree with my legs bent. After school, I decided to relax outside and catch up on some reading. My grandmother challenged me to try and finish six books by the end of the year. Jonathan had joined in as well, claiming that he could beat me. I was on my fifth book, and he was on his fourth.

So, it's pretty clear who's going to win. The wind brushed against me, causing goosebumps to rise. Charlie laughed as her Barbie 'flew' through the air. She ran around the yard singing to herself or speaking to her dolls like they were real. It's been a few months since the breakup with Billy.

After I left him at the theatre, it was difficult to even get a word in when we spoke the next day. Jonathan insisted on being there when I broke up with Billy, but not in the same room. He actually hid in my room while Billy and I spoke outside. My reading was interrupted by a car pulling up to my house.

It only feels this raw right now Lost in the labyrinth of my mind Break up, break free, break through, break down

I pulled my attention away from the book. Jonathan parked his car in the driveway. He had on his favorite green polo and tan khakis. "Hey," he greeted, plopping down beside me. "What're you reading?" Jonathan shrugged off his jean jacket. He folded it beside him and leaned against the tree with me. I kept a finger on the page, showing him the cover.

"Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt," I replied, "Nancy recommended it."

He nodded and took the book from me. Jonathan flipped it to the back to read the summary. "She's always got good recommendations," he said. I nodded in agreement and looked out at my sister. Charlie had made herself comfortable on the tree swing. She pushed her legs back and forth.

I had to tell her to not jump off a few times. Just a few months ago, she broke her arm from jumping too far. Even though she vowed to not do it again, we knew she would eventually. Charlie was eight, after all, and eight-year-olds don't typically listen. I set the book beside me when Jonathan handed it back. He set an arm around me. I smiled and rested my head against his shoulder.

You would break your back to make me break a smile You know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back Just like that

I noticed Charlie lean back on the tire swing. "Ah, don't!" my voice was loud as I pointed a finger at her. She smirked mischievously and stared at me as she launched herself off the swing.

Her knees met the ground before jumping up. Her hands sat on her waist, her green eyes staring back at Jonathan and me. "Oh, you little...." I cut myself off when I jumped up from the ground. Charlie screamed and began running around as I chased her.

"Don't let the monster get you, Charlie!" Jonathan hollered, cupping his mouth. I turned to him with narrowed eyes. He grabbed his jacket and hid underneath it. Charlie looked up at me, her blonde hair slightly covering her eyes. I knelt before her and pushed the strands away from her pale face.

I tilted my head towards Jonathan. The corners of her mouth lifted when she caught on. "I think Johnny wants to play Duck, Duck, Goose," I said quietly. Charlie gasped and ran over to him. "Goose!" she screamed and whacked his head. "Ow-What!" Jonathan replied.

Charlie was a blur as she ran around the tree. You could practically hear her giggles from down the street. The two of them began chasing one another around the yard.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love Oh no, I'm falling in love again Oh, I'm falling in love I thought the plane was going down How'd you turn it right around

A smile crept onto my face while I watched Jonathan play with my sister. Other than Steve, Jonathan had a way with kids. It made sense why our parents would pair Jonathan and me when someone needed to supervise their kids. Charlie squealed when he picked her up.

She was covered in grass. Her blue overalls were stained with mud and whatever she had for a snack. I noticed a few sticks and leaves stuck in her hair. Jonathan set her back to Earth and took the sticks out of her tangled locks. "Mom's gonna hate brushing her hair later," I commented, walking over to the two of them.

Charlie wrapped her arms around my waist, rubbing her head against my stomach. Jonathan looked at me with a wide smile on his face. "What?" I asked. My sister rested her chin on my stomach, gazing up at me. "Nothing. You just look really cute," he replied.

I felt my cheeks turn to a light shade of pink. Charlie shifted her eye line to me, then Jonathan. "Grody," she muttered. She took her arms off me and stepped over to the Barbies that were left on the porch stairs.

My mom walked out of the front door, wearing a pink and white apron. "Jonathan, care to stay for dinner? We're making your favorite," she winked. He opened his mouth to say something, but Charlie interrupted and claimed he'd love to. My mom ignored my sister's response to see what his response was.

"Yes. I would love to stay for dinner," he spoke for himself.

Charlie cheered. She waved her doll around, falling back. I could hear my mom curse when Charlie's hair collided with the grass. "Charlotte, why don't we get you cleaned up for dinner?" she called, using my sister's full name. My curly-haired sister sat up straight and shook her head in disagreement.

As on cue, my grandmother barged through the front door and grabbed Charlie by the arm. She shook her head as Charlie tried to get me and Jonathan to save her. "I'll call you two when dinner is ready," mom said, "Y/N, your dad should be here soon." I nodded and sat down against the tree.

The two of us grew quiet. We listened to the birds sing and the crickets chirping. The sun was just beginning to set. I could feel the Summer wind coming in for the night. Jonathan draped his jacket over me once he saw me tense up at the gust. "I think Charlie has a crush on you," I mentioned.

He laughed and shook his head. I turned to him with a grin on my face. "She does not," he denied. "Oh, she totally does," I argued playfully. Jonathan shoved my arm before covering his head so I couldn't hit back. Our laughing died down, which left the two of us just staring at one another.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love Oh no, I'm falling in love again Oh, I'm falling in love I thought the plane was going down How'd you turn it right around

My mind immediately went to how my life was complete hell before Jonathan and I had gotten closer. It was weird. It was almost like one bad thing made us come together. Of course, the monsters from hell intervened at some point, but that's besides the point.

This whole thing reminded me of how scared I was of falling in love again. But I also knew that the person I loved was different from the first. I knew that Jonathan was the complete opposite of Billy. He reminded me of that every day. Jonathan would go out of his way to get me things he'd thought I'd like.

I mean, the other day he bought me my favorite candy and tickets to one of my favorite movies at a local drive-in. "I think I'm falling in love with you," I said. Jonathan smiled. His hand sat on the side of my face. He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead before lightly kissing me on the lips.

"I'm falling in love with you, too," he said.

Taglist: @b-ritney @ramaalkayyali @midnightstar-90

#netflix stranger things #stranger things #stranger things season one #stranger things season two #stranger things three #stranger things four #jonathan byers #jonathan byers imagines #jonathan byers x-reader #jonathan byers fluff #Charlie Heaton #Charlie Heaton x-reader #Charlies Heaton imagines #Spotify

26 notes · View notes

lonespektr · 8 months

Text

OCTOBER 2ND HORROR WATCH

Emergency (2022)

Two black kids in a PWI

They are trying to complete some 7 party in one night thing

They are in a taboo class and the professor is dropping the hard r several times

There's a nerd and a slacker

The schedule: 🤣🤣

BLACK out - black light party

Green room - weed

(why not there last???)

A lame party

Anything But Clothes cool party

Refueling

Equinox idk flower power party

Underground coolest apparently

Fanny pack carlos apparently

The nerds fancy lab experiment just went to shit because the fridge seal quality

They are doubling back cause that's his whole thesis

Apparently Carlos left the door open to their spot

Uh but there's a passed out white girl on the ground in their place

The slacker is already too high

Carlos is apparently oblivious in his room gaming

She's obviously OD'ing

She just threw up

That's honest information don't get mad 🤣🤣🤣

Ahh the phone is still in the vomit

They said we need a white girl to call 911 for us

Now they are brain storming who to call to call

They are calling a bunch of people who aren't on campus

Asians are neutral to police 🤣🤣

Slacker won't let nerd call 911 himself

Slacker was like we can drop her at a fraternity house outside

Carlos is like no someone will see us

Nerd is like what the actual fuck is wrong with both of you want to drop a passed out girl at a frat??

Nerd says we can just drop her to the hospital ourselves after we change into clothes that make us look very respectable

That's actually not a bad idea i apologize for getting in your circle

Yt bestie looking for her

Can you see her from up there 🤣🤣🤣

It's her sis

They go back to the horrific plan of dumping her body at a frat

Frat attack

Back to the van

These dumb asses haven't given her any water carlos tried to give her a sports drink which probably had the pregame mix in it

Slacker is paranoid due to weed

His cousin got shot by police

White people come out to the neighborhood filming them shouting that they are dealing drigs

They of course have a black lives matter sign in their yard

Now he definitely did give emma a bunch of booze

Carlos is very fucking weird talking to her like a kindergartner

She's talking now enough to say shes a minor grade 12

They need to switch cars because the frat guys busted their tail light

They go to slackersfam house but they see the girl and every single black man runs out of the house

This is so far .. i have been told there is a twist -an extended scene of blackish where those two (man i am terrible with names) avoid the elevator with the white girl toddler in it

Emma finally sobers up for two secs freaks out causes the van crash

They go look for her in the woods

They are mean to carlos again unprompted (the granola comment is warrented)

Blackness off

I love you still (in the middle of the fight)

She is ....up a tree, throwing up again

The brunette called out the sister for being a bitch this whole time

The rescue squad have caught up to our fractured protagonist

She attacked them with a stick

After a long misunderstanding and some yelling and pepper spray and it turns out the boy brunette is crushing on is related to carlos

So trust is established!

Slacker ditches (on carlos cuz bike) because sister keeps saying they hurt her

The police finally catch up to them because they obviously called in the van and plates when they started tracking the car

Brunette is quite flummoxed to find out her crush is Mexican

The cops surrounded the van

Nerd has been giving CPR this whole time cause sis has been fucking ODing the entire night

They pull everyone out of the van separate the white girls and the two Mexicans both light but one obviously phenotypically Mexican

Pull several guns on nerd

They ignore white girl for several mins screaming my sister is dying (like cops do) and keep pointing several guns at nerd until

Finally one cop checks the van they forget all about nerd for two secs

Now Carlos and nerd are on the curb and the white presenting cousin and the brunette are witnessing

The cops believe the story

Nerd is very not okay about almost being murdered

Carlos said you're my hero

Carlos and nerd finally walk back to the lab to save his science

Slacker is already there sleeping wedged against the door

He left the party (there was a shot of mold on the party wall)

Carlos bails for their reconciliation

Big cry, one strike against toxic masculinity

Nerd congrats party hes going to Princeton

The girls come back to thank/apologize

Ha YES he closes the door in her face mid apology for being racist 🤣🤣🤣

Hmmm ok i dunno what people thought the ywist was but there wasn't one

They ended on a close up of nerd reacting to a passing siren

This young man now has full ptsd now for life

Lol these dumb asses put up their own plaque clandestinely

Very good working colorism in there

#graywatchhorror23 #emergency

0 notes

hauntthebodies · 2 years

Text

Haunt the Bodies is an upcoming small town horror about grief, family and reclaiming what was lost. This story is 18+ and not for minors, as it will discuss topics such as: Body horror, trauma, death, mental illness, self harm and other mature themes. The demo does not have a set release date and is early in it’s development.

MAIN CAST || STORY PLAYLIST || DISCORD

Born in Seward, Alaska, you never expected much more out of this idyllic little fishing town. Close to Kenai National Forest and hugged by a mountain, the town left you wanting for nothing.

Not until you died.

It has been three years since your passing. A tragic car accident that only spared your little sister. But something didn’t want to leave you to rest. Strangely brought back to life, you now have to navigate a life picking up the pieces of the wreckage that destroyed your family. You know you have to be there for your sister, even if she doesn’t recognize you.

Your resurrection isn’t the only odd thing happening in this town; claims of miracles and blessings from the church. And you - their one true sign that God has blessed your little town. You can’t help but feel theres something darker lurking.

Whether you see your second chance as a curse or a gift, some will decide for you. People are watching, and you can never really tell who’s wary and who’s devout.

Freedom to create a protagonist of your design: Gender, sexuality, pronoun options and more will be available.

Take care of your little sister, Riley, trying to remake your family or let her remain a stranger - she's like nine so its fine, not much of you to remember.

Figure out what is happening to your town; mysteries and questions abound!

Interact with an array of characters, including the option to pursue romances with several of them or just be bros. Or not even bros you can be a bitch.

Deal with the local church - Are you a follower, or do you find this worship a little creepy?

Figure out how to convince your local authorities you're back from the dead. Have fun with that one.

Aman Kazemi [He/Him]

The Best Friend

Dependable and strong, you've always known Aman has your back. You met in middle school, becoming best friends almost instantly. However, the last few years you've caught him staring a little too often to be platonic. Standing at 6'4" and made mostly of pure muscle, he's always been daunting in appearance. Short black hair and black eyes compliment his warm skin tone, he usually wears a short beard.

Avery Byrd [Gender Selectable]

The Outcast

You and Avery have never gotten along. They are crass, snarky and rude to most who get within their space. They are known for having a history of violence and petty crime; but is that really all there is to them? They stand at a reasonable 5'8" with an average build. Light brown eyes compliment their russet red hair, which is kept to their jaw regardless of gender.

Sloan Lowlry [Any Pronouns]

The Prophet's Child

Sloan is the single child to the local priest. They are a bubbly individual, kind to those they meet. She seems to have a special interest with you though, and you aren't sure if its the same curiosity her father holds or something else. She stands at 5'5" with a thin build. Blue black hair that frames her face and black eyes stand out against her pale complexion.

Mason Solarin [He/They]

The Wildlife Ranger

You aren't sure what it is about you that caught Mason's attention; but you seem to run into them too often for it to be a coincidence. Standing at an impressive 6'2", Mason always has a smile. With warm brown skin and light brown eyes, Mason keeps his black hair in a fade cut close to the scalp.

Charlie Montgomery [She/They]

The Sister

One of the twins, a pair of siblings have recently opened up a local bar. You haven't officially met her; but something about her is magnetic. Standing at a tall 6’0”, she almost beats her brother in height. With long blond hair and light blue eyes, she is quite the sight.

Carson Montgomery [He/Him]

The Brother

The other half of the twins. Somehow, he feels familiar, nostalgic. His voice always feels like a lullaby, a calm that's not your own. Pretty blue eyes and sandy blond hair cut short, you can see the resemblance between the twins. He stands at 6'0" with an athletic build.

#interactive fiction #twine game #twine if #interactive novels #haunt the bodies #haunt the bodies if #I had to remake this whole account lmao

543 notes · View notes

flautistsandpeonies · 2 years

Text

AITA For Sticking Up For My Mother Against My Father and Foster Sibling?

Alternative title: The Grandmaster of Assholes

You can also read this on my Wordpress.

Tags: Not For JC Fans, JC Canon Characteristics, JC Canon Homophobia, JC Canon Misogyny, Not For Madam Yu Fans, Madam Yu Canon Characteristics, Alternate Universe: Modern AU, a slight attempt at humor for me

Word Length: 2,757

Time to Read: 16 Minutes

Chapter Summary: Jiang Cheng posts on the AITA Reddit

Right, so last week I (22M) got into a fist fight with my foster sibling (22M) after my father (52M) called him and told him to come back to our house. The bastard ended up breaking my arm, and now I have to wear a cast for an entire month. My mother (52F) and father are now arguing about my mom taking legal action against him.

Some context:

My foster brother has always been an annoying and tedious ass. He always loves causing trouble and trying to show me up cause he was born into a poor, nomadic family and I was born quite wealthy. My dad brought him into our home thirteen years ago after his parents died in some car crash or something, I don’t care to remember, and his parents had my father as a guardian on his papers since they were both orphans.

My dad has never loved me, and has always favored my foster brother. He spent more time with my brother when we were young, taking him to what he claimed was physical therapy but I knew he just wanted to spend some alone time with him. On the contrast, my father rarely even looks at me, and if we are near each other he’s scolding me over something I have no control over- like being like my mother or not doing everything “like the family motto”.

My father has also never loved my mother. They got together in an arranged marriage (I don’t want any comments about how “traditional” and “old school” it was, mind your damn business) and my father has never given my mother the time of day. Despite having two kids with her (I have an sister (25F), they don’t even sleep in the same wing of the mansion and don’t spend any time together.

Anyway, my mom threw my foster brother out when we were seventeen after he stole first place in a contest from me. It was a special event held by our mutual family vocations and I was the only heir to not get a prize; he just had to show me up in front of everybody, again!

The son of a bitch was so full of himself that instead of waiting until my father got home that night to let him inside, he took a bus a few towns over to go stay with his friend (Wen Ping or something). Serves him right though, cause my mom had the locks changed the next day.

After that, my dad got so angry with my mom, saying that one of his colleagues, who we’ll call WRH threatened to go to the media about our family abusing 🙄🙄🙄 my foster brother if my dad didn’t sign guardianship over to him. My parents fought for such a long time over that, it was even worse than the normal fights my brother caused. It got so bad that my sister left the house to stay with her fiance’s family.

In the end, my father did end up signing guardianship over to WRH, and you would think that my life would get better after that, but no, it got worse!

When my foster brother started living with WRH he started to show up everywhere in our family’s social circles for academic rewards and flute recitals. It was like WRH had adopted him as his son or some shit; it was ridiculous.

My mom was so angry cause my foster brother was clearly trying to show me up again, cause my father wouldn’t dare showcase my achievements like that and he knew it.

Back to the present. My father claimed that he called my foster brother here after all these years to get his shit that my father refused to allow my mother to throw away- seriously, his trash has just been sitting in a room all these years collecting dust- now that he was getting married to his fiance and moving in with him. (I had no idea the man was gay, ugh.)

I know that had to be a lie though cause I have a big event coming up that I prepared a speech for, and my foster brother is going to be present as his fiance’s plus one. (Blergh). My father had read over my speech, and told me it was “too confrontational and lacking regard for the other familys’ beliefs and history”. (I told you he never approved of me.)

Anyway, my mom and I caught them red-handed after we came back from shopping for new suits for the event. My foster brother was on the front lawn with a woman we’ll call WQ and Wen Ping loading his trash into a moving van. My dad was handing him a file box, and I knew it had to have all my speeches and work plans in it.

My mom knew too and started arguing with my father about trying to sabotage me again. My father, as usual, denied it, and even raised his voice at her. She started going in on my foster brother as well. However, my foster brother had learned to disrespect my mother from somewhere (I’m betting it was WRH) and was talking back to her saying that she “had no power over him anymore.” and “wasn’t worth his time”.

I fucking lost it and tackled him then and there. We ended up tussling all the way into the front yard’s fountain and he broke my arm over the statue. I remember almost fucking drowning while that son of a bitch took everything and left.

My mom was so fucking pissed she’s going to take him to court for robbery and assault. I’d like to see WRH get him out of that.

So, that’s all that happened. I’m having my room’s maid type this for me as it is, but I really need her to get back to work. I don’t really care about comments; I already know I was in the right in this situation, I just needed somewhere to vent really.

...

Comments:

That-One-Lizard: Wait, so your mom threw your foster brother out of the house when he was 17? For winning a competition??? -Original Poster: He wasn’t supposed to win. It should have been my trophy, but he got in the way. Weren’t you paying attention? --That-One-Lizard: Dude.....he was 17...... ---Original Poster: And? I mean he was honestly lucky she didn’t beat him with the family’s discipline whip; that’s what she normally does when he shows me up. She was just tired after a long night and didn’t want to deal with him. ----That-One-Lizard: .........No comment......... ----Angel-Food-Cake: What the fuck...... ----Chicken-Elizabeth-Nugget: What the fuck is a discipline whip? Do I even want to know? -----Original Poster: Are you two stupid or something? A discipline whip is exactly what it’s called, a whip for disciplining unruly and traitorous people. ------Angel-Food-Cake: WRH shouldn’t have gone to the media, he should have gone to the police. What the absolute fuck, no wonder he didn’t come back home! Your mother’s a crazy fucking bitch, who does that to a child??!! -------Original Poster: Fuck you!!! How dare you insult my mother!!! --------Chicken-Elizabeth-Nugget : I realize now why your father doesn’t like her. (Click here to continue thread)

Broccoli-Bandit: Gonna need a little bit more context about the foster brother before I can decide. -Original Poster: What more do you need to know?? He ruined my life!!! Broccoli-Bandit: You said he liked causing trouble? --Original Poster: He loves to act like he’s so charitable and shit, like he wasn’t using my family’s money. One time, he even gave his entire allowance away to a beggar woman on the streets and my dad dipped into his own monthly budget to give him more. My parents fought for three days. ---Broccoli-Bandit: ........What the fuck? So he’s a normal human being?? ----Original Poster: What’s normal about wasting money? Also, he was always getting into fights with other men trying to get with women, just so he could be some knight type of character. (Click here to continue thread)

All-Around-Me: You are definitely the asshole for your homophobia alone. -Original Poster: Are you fucking serious? That shit is not normal; what normal person wants to have sex with another man? --All-Around-Me: You’re disgusting. ---Original Poster: Disgusting my ass! My foster brother’s the one that disgusting; it’s like he got possessed or something. I swear he’s not so much as looked at another man in my presence. ----All-Around-Me: Probably cause you’re a homophobic piece of shit??? (Click here to continue thread)

ChaoChao: NTA, that street rat should have known better than to come into better people’s homes and steal fathers’ affection from the blood children. I can’t imagine what the two sons of WRH went through in his household after he came there. -Original Poster: How do you know WRH has two sons? --ChaoChao: None of your fucking business, just take my opinion.

Bi-the-Bi: I feel like the sections about the foster brother are intentionally vague. -Original Poster: What the fuck do you mean vague? I told you everything you need to know! --Bi-the-Bi: You’re just constantly calling him an asshole, and claiming to know all his intentions? The only thing he’s done that we know of is leave after your mom kicked him out (nice mom by the way *sarcasm*) and defended himself after you attacked him. ---Original Poster: I told you he was trying to steal my work. And don’t you dare insult my mother!!! ---- Bi-the-Bi : No, you said you “knew”, which doesn’t immediately mean you were right. That could have been his birth certificate or something, awards from school since you say he was so smart. (Click here to continue thread)

Load More Comments (256)

...

Edit:

Okay, since some people brains can’t seem to function properly I guess I have to give you my entire life story for you to understand “the whole story”.

I (22M) was born to JFM (52M) and YZY (52F). They had JYL (25F) three years before me. My parents were arranged to marry by my mother’s request. Even then my father couldn’t recognize what a woman my mother was and did his best not to marry her, however my grandfathers banded together to make the marriage happen.

My father always made family life hard even before my foster brother got there. He never gave me or my mother attention, claiming that because my mother refused to take on the duties as the house’s madam he had to run both his position and her’s. Instead of supporting my mother’s endeavors, he spoke against her and my mother started going out of the house even more than usual to the point where I only see her for a couple of weeks a month.

Things got even worse when my foster brother (22M) got there. Like I said, his parents died and my father picked him up. My father started spending a lot of time with him. “Doctor appointments” for his legs after the accident, my father claimed, but my mother always showed me the receipts for the hunan restaurants he always took him to on those days.

My foster brother always loved to show me up. He did everything he could to have better grades than me, look better than me, have more friends than me, anything he could think of, he did it. Everyone always fell for his good-boy shtick; everyone, except for me and my mother.

My mother knew that my foster brother was likely my half-brother. His mother was apparently a real whore and got around with a lot of men before she married my dad’s butler and took off. My mother thinks that since my foster brother is only five days older than me, she must’ve snuck back into our home to sleep with my dad when my mom was out one day. My father once got a paternity test, but he paid the doctor off to skew the results to hide the truth.

My father denies that my foster brother is actually my half-brother, but he shows it in how he treats us. He hates my mother, so he hates me, but he loved his mother, so he loves him. Whatever I do can never seem to please him, but my brother can apparently paint a banner with our families crest and motto and my father hangs it up for all to see.

My mother does not tolerate my brother. Whenever he does something foolish or other deserving of punishment, she deals with him the only way she knows how. She has to use physical punish so he’ll learn, and she makes him sleep outside so he’ll remember his place- a half breed will never be allowed to inherit.

Anyway, things came to a head at one of our mutual family conference five years ago. Now that I think about it was WRH’s conference; I bet he set it up for my foster brother to get ahead of me! My foster brother/half-brother stole my trophy from me in front of our entire social circle and embarrassed me in in front of all of my peers.

My father had to stay behind to sort out some matter, and my mother, sister, and I went home. My mom threw my brother out for what he did to me and I took back my trophy from him while he picked himself up out of the lotus pond. We locked the door after that and went to bed. The next morning, my father was looking for him (figures), but we couldn’t find him.

A week later my father up getting a call from WRH’s secretary. My foster/half brother apparently went to his niece’s WQ house and was staying there for the time being. He wanted my father to sign over guardianship of my foster/half brother lest “our reputation be damaged”. My father blamed my mother for everything and they fought again.

My father ended up signing the guardianship over, and that should have been it. My life should have gotten better without him there to ruin it. But, as he was determined to make my life a living hell, he did all he could to put his name out there. I can’t imagine how much money WRH wasted on him. I spent five years continuing to live in his shadow.

It came to a head again just last week. Like I said before, my father was trying to sabotage my speech, giving my foster/half brother a heads up. I knew that if he read my speech he would probably say something to one up me at the conference. My mother knew it too, that’s why she said something. How could I have just stood there while my father and that bastard disrespected her in her own home? I did what I had to do and that son of a bitch broke my arm, so now I’ll see him in court.

Now that I’ve laid the story out more plainly for you will you people stop acting like my foster/half brother is some sort of helpless victim?

...

Comments:

I-Hate-Sabers: ....I’m going to ruin your life. I’m going to ruin your mother’s life. You two are going to wish she never left Meishan. -Original Poster: Who the fuck do you think you are? -Original Poster: Answer me you son of a bitch! -Original Poster: Probably another pussy who’s all talk over the computer but pisses themselves when ordering food.

Emperor-of-the-Smile: Definitely The Asshole. I don’t know what’s funnier: the fact that this piece of shit thinks he’s in the right or the fact that he thinks if he talks more about how he and his mother treated his foster brother like shit we’ll start agreeing with him. -All-Around-Me: I think it’s that he thinks he’s in the right. -Chicken-Elizabeth-Nugget: I think it’s how he’s so far up his own ass he can’t see or smell anything but himself. --Original Poster: Fuck all of you. I put this on here to vent about my frustrations, but you’re making shit up about me that’s not true. (Click here to continue thread)

ChaoChao: Still NTA, am I supposed to feel sympathy for some slutty woman’s orphan son. I mean look at all the trouble he cause people in his life! -First-Born-Sun: Chao-er, shut the fuck up.The only person in our household who doesn’t like Ying-er is you. --ChaoChao: I thought you said reddit was beneath you? ---First-Born-Sun: Not when someone I actually like and respect is mentioned. ----ChaoChao: You just like him cause you want to fuck him!!! -----First-Born-Sun: And? ------Original Poster: Who are you people?!

Plum-Soup: Definitely the Asshole. I don’t know who I feel for more. The father trapped in this abusive arranged marriage, or the foster brother who went from one traumatic situation to the next. -Original Poster: Why should you feel for them at all? My mother and I are the victims here!!! --Plum-Soup: Get help, asshole. (Click here to continue thread)

Lady-Mai: The asshole. Homophobic? Check. Misogynistic? Check. Abusive as all fuck? There’s not enough paper in the world to check this off. -Original Poster: Go fuck yourself!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author’s Notes:

Hope you all enjoyed. I’ve never actually been on reddit before and the only posts I’ve seen from it are on tumblr. Hope I did a good job!

Read the Next Chapter

Read My Other Prompts and WIPs [Here]

200 notes · View notes

wickeddruig · 3 years

Text

Fuckboy

part two

part one

pairings: fuckboy!druig x fem!reader

summary: after you drunk text druig he picks you up from the bar and takes care of you

warnings: fluff, angst, face riding, jealousy, unedited

word count: 1.3k

you were throwing your ass back on some guy you met at the bar. you didn’t know him and you didn’t really care. what you did know is that you weren’t going home with this one. after druig you decided to be a bit more picky with the guys you fucked.

not because he was bothering you, he actually let you be for the most part. it was because you don’t think any other guy could fuck you the way he could. you fought the urge to text him almost every night. wanted to know how many positions he could make you cum in, wanted to feel his tongue on you again.

you knew not very many guys could make you feel like that again because sure as hell didn’t make you feel like that before druig. you get a text and you pull your phone looking at it ‘speaking of the devil’ you think to yourself.

druig: you up?

at first you were going to say no but you were already thinking of him and the things he could be going to you. so why the hell not? you were also already drunk.

you: yes

druig: come see me

you: at a bar, come get me

if you were going to fuck him the least he could do is come pick you up. you moved from the dance floor because some bitches kept bumping into you. you waited for his response

druig: of course, beautiful

you knew he would come get you. you sent your location to him. which you would realize was a mistake later on. you got an extra drink from the bar before heading out and waiting outside. not too much longer druig pulled up. he got out of the car and helped you as you fumbled. he opened the door and put you inside, putting your seatbelt on.

“what a gentleman” you slurred

druig didn’t say anything he just got into the driver seat and pulled out. as he drove he kept looking over at you, you were completely fucked up, he obviously was not going to try anything with you.

as much as he wanted you, he knew how disgusting it would be to fuck you while drunk especially when you hadn’t shown signs of wanting to have sex with him when you were sober, even if you did that wouldn’t be right. only a fucking loser would take advantage of that moment.

he pulled into his building and helped you out of the car. he tried to get you to stand but you obviously couldn’t walk straight so he threw you over his shoulder. he closed the car door and walked into his building. he went straight up to his dorm. no one was there because it was so late so it saved you a lot of embarrassment.

he opened the room to his dorm and to his surprise neither of his roommates were there so he quickly shuffled to his room, closing it behind him. he placed you on the bed, taking off your shoes. he laid you in the bed and then took of his clothes.

getting in his bed only in his boxers like he usually does. he pulled the extra air mattress out that he kept for his siblings when they came to stay for the weekends. sometimes to visit or sometimes for the college parties.

his sisters loved college boys, he enjoyed when they stayed even though he’d literally never admit that. he set up the air mattress with blankets and pillows laying on it. he wanted to cuddle you but he didn’t want you to feel comfortable. he drifted off to sleep because he was starting to hear your drunken snores and he wanted to be well asleep before they got any louder.

you jolted awake as you heard a loud slam, you looked around at your surroundings and you noticed it was not your room. you started to panic until you realized you recognized the room. it was druigs, you also started to panic again thinking you two had sex last night until you looked down and saw that you were fully clothed. out of the glimpse of your eye you saw the mattress on the ground. you assumed druig slept there last night.

“good morning sunshine” druig said walking into his bedroom with two plates, he set them both on the table.

“good morning” you said sitting up “how’d you know i was awake”

“i’ve been drunk before, i know loud noises wake you up” he said a bit sarcastically. he picked one plate up and handed it to you. it was breakfast food.

“you made this?” you asked, no one had ever made you breakfast especially not a guy.

“i mean, it’s only pancakes and bacon but yeah” he said picking up his plate and sitting on the edge of the mattress “it’s not rocket science”

he let out a little chuckle at his own statement. he didn’t say it in a rude town, he meant it to be funny and it was. you liked his sense of humor.

“okay this maybe just breakfast but it’s fucking good” you said to him the bacon was perfect “it’s like you knew exactly how i liked my bacon”

“once when they had served bacon for breakfast in the dining hall i overheard you saying how you liked your bacon” he replied looking up at you

fuck, you thought, no one had ever done no shit like that fit you before. that was some straight out of a rom com movie type of shit. you leaned towards him to kiss him on the lips, it was supposed to be a thank you but once you kissed him he immediately grabbed you, pulling you on to the air mattress.

he had you on top of him with his hands on your hips. you already had your hands desperately gripping your hair. he moved one hand to your ass and squeezed it as he slid his tongue against your lower lip asking for entrance. you parted your lips accepting his tongue into your mouth and he slipped his touch into your mouth, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. after a few more moments he pulled away.

“sit on my face” he demanded, slapping your ass. you obeyed and slid the dress off that you had on last night.

you didn’t wear any underwear so you were completely naked. you hovered above druig’s face and before you could even position yourself perfectly. he grabbed your ass and brought your pussy down to his face.

you began to grind of his face as you felt his tongue in your entrance, he was literally tongue fucking you. you arched your back and slid your hands to his hair, gripping it tightly.

“so fucking good” he muttered while you were on top of him. his nose was pressed against your clit while he moved his tongue in and out of your hole. you had never been more grateful for a man with a big nose in your life.

you felt his tongue in your asshole for a moment before he moved his mouth to completely on your clit. he was sucking and licking, swirling his tongue every now and it was driving you insane. you were singing his name. you picked up the speed, fucking his face while he fucked your pussy with his tongue.

“can i cum please?” you could barely make the sentence out.

“come for me m’darling” he said and you immediately released not waiting a second longer. you got off of of him and leaned over, kissing him long and hard. tasting yourself on his lips.

“you dirty girl” he laughed, pulling at one of your curls. he knew exactly what you were doing.

druig laid back, catching his breath. he wanted to be happy that he just got to please you. you tasted amazing. but he was sad that he wasn’t the could possibly be tasting you. he had never felt like this for a girl. jealous of he other partners, possible partners that couldn’t (hopefully didn’t) exit. he sat there wondering what the hell you were doing to him.

part three

#druig #druig x bw!reader #druig x reader #druig x black!women #druig x woc!reader #eternals mcu #mcu eternals #druig eternals #eternals #mcu phase 4 #mcu #mcu phase four #marvel fanfiction #marvel

536 notes · View notes

woobly · 2 years

Text

FLOWERS AND FILM . . . 박성화 !

PAIRING. florist! seonghwa x gn! tourist! reader GENRE. strangers to lovers, implied star-crossed lovers au, college au, fluff, poor attempt at angst WARNINGS. cursing, partial nudity for a split second WORD COUNT. 7.7k

𓂋˚˖ SYNOPSIS. after going through several breakups, you've finally learned that constantly looking for someone to be in a relationship with only ends in heartache. but when you find love again in someplace unexpected, does it also lead you to the same unhappy ending?

𓂋˚˖ A/N. happy valentine’s day! i didn’t actually plan this specifically for today, but here it is anyway :D also im not sure if the pacing is too fast so lmk if it is i guess. and quick fun fact! while writing, i kept seeing concert vids of seonghwa dancing dlbw, his happy song while on tour, so i just had to include :3

𓂋˚˖ EVENT. for @ficscafe’s trope event! i used the trope the epitome of elegance x clumsy mess, or at least i attempted to </3

“GOOD EVENING LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AND WELCOME TO HEATHROW AIRPORT. local time is 8:06 in the evening, and the temperature is 15°C or 59°F. for your safety, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the captain turns off the fasten seat belt sign. on behalf of AZ airlines and the entire crew, i would like to thank you for flying with us, and we hope to see you onboard again in the near future. may you all have a pleasant stay here in london.”

you look out the airplane window to your left and try to look through the mist that has built up on the thick glass. a few planes of different sizes are lined up beside the one you’re currently on. the moonlight faintly shines on the airport right in front of you and the buildings in the distance, although they really only look like a blanket of lights bunched up together.

you look back into the plane as a yawn takes over your body. the captain has already turned off the seat belt sign, so some passengers have already begun standing up even if the doors haven’t been opened yet. when they do, you turn off the movie you’ve been listening to for the past hour (which you’ve already watched multiple times before) and take off the headphones provided by the airlines. you pack away the rest of your things and finally stand up to stretch. the passengers a few rows in front of you have already left, so you move out of your seat to take the rest of your hand-carry luggage from the overhead cabin.

the walk through the airport, through immigration and baggage claim, was pretty much a breeze. after you realized that there were too many people and that it would probably take a while to get through all that, you decided that you were tired and would rather listen to music. once you’re done and walking through the final gate, you hear a loud scream for your name that you recognize almost immediately and suddenly you’re no longer so tired.

you don’t even have to see her face to confirm who she is. without realizing it, you start picking up your pace, frantically searching for the person who called you. once she was finally in front of you, your things are suddenly on the floor and your arms are tightly wrapped around her. “mimi!”

“bitch, i can’t breathe,”

you release your older sister miyoung from your hug attack to cup her face instead. “how have you been?”

“i literally called you before your flight- what are you on about?”

“right, but it's been too long since we last talked talked,” you pout as the younger sibling role settles in you while in her presence.

“let’s talk later. right now, i’m sure you’re starving coz i’m starving since you took almost an hour going through immigration. and don’t touch my face again unless you have clean hands,”

“yes, mom,” she takes your wheeled luggage while you pick up the rest of your bags. “where are we eating?”

“i’ll take you to my favorite, it’s only 30 minutes from here,”

the ride to the restaurant in mimi’s car was surprisingly just as loud, with you bombarding her with questions about her life here in the bustling city. your conversation crosses over to dinner, from talking about your sister’s job and your college professors to sharing stories from your past relationships that you've never told and almost crying over old memories.

ever since someone confessed to you for the first time, the timeline you live in changed tremendously. you felt the need to be in a relationship and be around someone all the time. you convinced yourself that it wasn't because of the pressure among people your age to be in one (although it is true), but because it felt nice to have a favorite person and to be someone's favorite person. you were either constantly looking for someone who you could call your ‘significant other’, or entertaining someone who wanted to call you exactly that.

unfortunately, this came at a high price. it’s not an uncommon notion that many couples break up at some point, whether it's after a few months or a few years. you weren't unacquainted with this either. you've had your fair share, with numbers rising up to two hands (not that body count matters). and since you hardly had anyone to turn to, you've learned to deal with the post-breakup process mostly on your own. over time, it became easier and faster to move on, crying less each time. you avoided giving your entire being into the relationship, giving less and less of yourself so as not to break too hard in the end.

“honestly though, i’m tired. i’m gonna stop looking for someone to like and just focus on college. whether i get into a relationship again or not, that's no longer my problem,”

“stop lying to yourself. you know you’re gonna jump the person you like, even if it's only slight, the moment they confess to you,” miyoung chuckles as she takes a scoop of her mashed potato.

“you know me so well,” you give her a strained smile. “but shut the fuck up anyway,”

this is why you will always be grateful for your one and only sister. although you didn't have people to turn to when you needed comfort, she always helped you pick yourself back up. you may have lost numerous people in the span of only a few years, but miyoung was the only one who stayed constant. although she was the more hard-working one in your duo, she never failed to make time for you.

before you know it, you’re back in the car, and she’s driving you to her apartment, your jetlag slowly sinking in. once you arrive, you don’t even bother to unpack some of your things and head straight to bed.

the blaring of your alarm, unfortunately, disrupts your deep sleep. you pick up your phone which is right beside your head and turn it off to see that it’s already 11 in the morning. when you walk out into the living room to find no one around, you assume that your sister has already left for work.

after you make yourself brunch with whatever was in the kitchen, you take your time getting ready, unpacking some of your things while you’re at it. it’s really refreshing to finally have absolutely nothing to worry about that the worst thing that’s running through your mind is what to do next. you didn’t really want to create an entire itinerary for every second of your stay, but your sister did send you a list of places she thought you might want to visit. today, however, you just wanted to relax and go wherever your feet take you.

although the city doesn’t seem so special at first glance, you take time to observe all the buildings and establishments you pass by, from houses to bookshops, and all the people walking around with you. when a little flower shop comes into view not too far away, you decide you want to buy some flowers for your room and for your sister.

when you enter, no one was around, not even behind the counter. still, you slowly walk around the shop and see which ones you should buy. you don’t notice that someone was already standing next to you until he spoke up.

“hi, is there anyone you want to give flowers to?” you were so startled by the low voice that you somehow manage to lose your balance as you turned towards the pink-haired man who thankfully catches you by the arm. “woah, sorry i didn’t mean to scare you,”

��it’s fine. i guess i could never go through my day without tripping over my own feet at least once,” you look up again to the man beside you and wow you never thought pink hair could suit someone so well.

you didn’t realize you were staring when he spoke up again. “so, may i help you?”

”oh! well, i’m buying for my sister and for myself, but i’m not really sure what’s appropriate since i’m not familiar with the messages behind these,” you reach out for the flowers labeled ‘white carnations’.

“those can represent innocence, purity, and luck,” he says as he watches you move around and lightly brush the flowers in front of you.

“then maybe gratitude? for my sister,”

the man doesn’t even need a second to think and immediately turns around, to which you follow. he picks up a few flowers from the ‘hydrangea’ basket and hands them to you. “hydrangeas can also mean grace and beauty,”

“these are perfect,” you smile at how they truly remind you of your sister.

“then what about for you?”

you look up at him and notice his big curious eyes waiting for what you might want. “surprise me,” you quickly look at his nametag. “..seonghwa,”

he takes a hot minute to look into your eyes as if that could help him find out more about you, find out which flowers suit your style and personality. after he goes around the shop for a while, he comes back with two types of flowers.

“couldn’t choose, so i got both. these are asters and white camellias,”

“and is there a reason you got me these?”

he takes a moment to look at you again, opening and closing his mouth, seemingly trying to decide whether he should tell you or not. “...secret,”

“you- why not?”

“flowers are meant to deliver messages that you can’t really say out loud,” he shrugs and flashes a shy smile, and you debate whether you should tease him about it and push him to tell you, or just leave the mystery be. “alright, fine, i’ll tell you. but you have to spend the rest of the day with me,”

“and why would i do that?” you smirked at his indirect attempt at what you assume is asking you out. although i would gladly do so anyway is what you want to say next but obviously, you don’t. “google doesn’t exist for nothing,” you declared.

“well, i think you’d miss out on a good time and google isn’t always right, you know,” he grins like a child and continues to look at you expectantly. you still take some time to think about it since he is still someone you just met ten minutes ago, but ultimately, you come down to fuck it.

“fine, deal,” for a split second, his eyes widen with shock for accepting his condition at all. “i mean, i don’t really have any plans since it’s fall break. you don’t seem to be a dangerous person either, so … but if you’re planning to take me to the woods, then think again coz i learned judo in freshman year,”

he brings his hands up and uses his left palm and right pointer finger to mimic writing on a piece of paper. “no woods, judo, noted. could you wait for me then? i’ll just arrange and wrap these flowers for you then i just need to tell my boss i’m leaving,” you nod and he takes the flowers from your hands. “we can come back for these later so that you don’t have to carry them around all day,”

you watch as he carefully arranges the flowers he suggested to you with different materials and other smaller flowers with ease. once he’s finished, he sets them aside and goes into the room at the back while you walk towards the window to watch the cars and people passing by.

“where are we going?”

“the national gallery,” you think you’ve heard or read it somewhere, probably one of the things on the list your sister gave you.

“why there? if i may ask,”

“you seem like someone who truly appreciates art, and there’s also a new exhibit i’ve been meaning to visit,”

“okay, but what makes you think i like art?”

“for one, you’ve got a camera hanging around your neck. two, you seem like a thoughtful person. you entered the shop wanting to buy flowers based on their meanings, which not a whole lot of people really do. but honestly, it was just a hunch. am i wrong?,”

“oh no, you’re not. i guess the camera gave it away,” you give him a small smile as you follow him to the art museum, walking side by side. “how about you? are you a botany student or something? you know a lot about flowers,”

“actually, i’m a dance major,” you quickly turn your head in shock as you don’t see any correlation between the two, except maybe when you use flowers as props.

“i didn’t peg you as a dancer,”

“then what did you peg me as?”

“i’m not sure actually. i thought you could be a model, but then i thought maybe you’re taking something biology-related?”

“a model?” he chuckles at that, and his cheeks turn a gentle shade of pink, which you just pass off as due to the cold weather. “i did actually consider bio, but in the end, i went with dance. i work at the shop because i wanted to do part-time, and my aunt owns it, so i help out. she told me i should at least learn a bit about floriography, so i did,” you turn your head to him, silently asking what the word means. “floriography is the language of flowers. it comes from the victorian era,”

“oh, so that’s why you could just tell your ‘boss’ you were leaving as if you were just asking your mom if you could go outside to play. i thought they were just really nice,”

“that’s what you’re hung up on?” he turns to you and chuckles breathily. “you could come work with me at the shop, then .. uh i just realized-,”

“it’s y/n. and you just broke my record for the longest time it takes for a stranger to ask my name,” the both of you laugh as you enter the museum.

after walking through different exhibits for a while, you finally arrive at the one that he wanted to see. when you enter, you are delighted to see that there are quite a few more people looking around. you notice that seonghwa seems to be looking for someone in the venue. “do you mind going around by yourself for a bit? i’m just gonna greet my friends,”

you shake your head and watch as he walks towards a few guys, suddenly hearing loud banters from them. after looking at the artworks alone for a while, you feel someone walking towards you.

“you ditch all your dates like this?”

“you guys are on a date?” you turn to the man beside you and realize that’s not seonghwa.

“and you are?”

“name’s hongjoong. i’m a friend of the man you came in here with,” hongjoong? you check the description of the sculpture you were just looking at to see the same name. “yep, i also made that,”

“woah, you sculpted this? you’re really good! i love the perfect balance of intricate details and the serenity that seems to flow from it,”

“thanks. at least someone knows how to appreciate my work,” he rolls his eyes and looks at seonghwa as the man in question approaches the both of you.

“you said you wanted constructive criticism, so i gave you exactly that,”

“saying i need to do it all over again is not constructive criticism,”

“you were making a portrait of me, and it didn’t look like me, what did you want me to say?” you lightly chuckle at their bickering and pull them away from each other before anything happens.

“anyway, i think my prof might be calling me. it was nice meeting you, seonghwa’s date,” you smile and bow as hongjoong jogs away.

“date?”

“oh, that’s nothing. take it as you will,”

after a few moments of silence, you try to strike up a conversation again. “so hongjoong .. is he an art major?”

“yeah, we go to the same college. his prof decided to showcase their sculptures for their final last sem, but today was the only day available, so here they are. what about you? you seem to be a long way from home,” you frown at him in confusion, spurring him on to explain what he meant. “you said earlier that you’re on fall break right now, and it’s definitely not fall break here in london. and you were taking pictures when we were walking outside,” he blurted as he pointed towards your camera.

“damn, how did you even pick up on that? and here i thought i was doing an excellent job at pretending not to be a tourist,” you chuckle as you pick up your camera from hanging it around your neck and examine it as if you don’t already know how to use it. “i’m actually a photography major. i came here to visit my sister, but i also hoped i could get some inspiration and good pictures while i’m here,”

“that’s really cool. if you want to take pictures of me, you don’t need to ask- i’d be most honored,” he smiles and bows like a prince, with one arm across his stomach and the other behind him.

the rest of the night continues like a breeze, with seonghwa agreeing to meet up with his other friends later in the night, saying he’ll be “a little late”, and you feeling a little bad that you’re probably the reason behind it. the both of you also decided to get some dinner together, and the entire time, it just felt like you were catching up with an old friend.

when it was getting dark, you both head back to the flower shop, which was already closed. seonghwa opens the doors with his keys, grabs the flowers he wrapped for you earlier and hands them to you.

“may i walk you home? it’s dark out now,”

“it’s fine, you’ve got your friends waiting for you, and the apartment’s only a few blocks away,”

“please, it’s the least i can do for asking you to spend your day with me so suddenly,” it takes you a solid 5 seconds to remember the whole deal you made this afternoon.

“oh right! yes, you definitely have to walk me home,” you say as you start walking. “so tell me, why did you choose these flowers for me?”

he stares at you for a moment, but instead of replying, he turns to the satchel bag slung on his shoulder and fishes for a small pocketbook from one of the compartments, which he hands over to you. you read the title in your head as it says ‘the language of flowers’.

“look for asters and white camellias when you get home,”

“you’re still not gonna tell me?”

he simply shrugs. “i still stand by what i said about delivering silent messages,”

all you could do was chuckle at the man’s antics. you can’t really blame him anyway because it seems impossible to be angry with him and because you surprisingly enjoyed the time you spent with him today.

as if on cue, the building of your sister’s apartment comes into view. “well, this is me. see you around?”

“yeah, you know where to find me,” he smiles, and you turn to enter the building, but not before waving one last time. as you walk towards the unit, all you can think about is the flowers in your hand, the little book, and seonghwa.

once you enter the flat, you are greeted with the sight of takeout and a zombie of a sister, who hardly even noticed you arrive, combined with a sitcom playing on the tv.

“these flowers are for you, mimi,” you place the hydrangeas on the small round dining table.

“thanks? what for?”

“nothing, just felt like it. i’ll just put my stuff down then i’ll eat with you,”

you hear a tired ‘okay’ as you enter your room. the moment you closed the door, you open the floriography book to find that asters represent love, wisdom, faith, and daintiness, but you notice a little note written by who you assume is seonghwa, saying that they were also used as offerings in the altar of the gods in greek mythology. a few more flips of pages and you find that white camellias symbolize adoration, and that in the victorian era, it roughly translates to ‘you’re adorable’.

if you weren’t blushing like a little schoolgirl earlier, you definitely are now.

the next few days were spent either with seonghwa or your sister miyoung. however, because miyoung has a 9 to 5 job, usually working overtime even on saturdays, you seemed to be around seonghwa a lot more, not that you’re complaining.

when your sister was free though, she would either take you to her favorite restaurants for dinner or you both just stayed at the apartment and binge watched an old cartoon series you used to watch together as kids. meanwhile, when seonghwa wasn’t busy attending lectures or working, he usually took your afternoons, bringing you to different tourist spots and smaller establishments like a tour guide. and on days when he can't accompany you, he makes sure to call. he’s even introduced you to his other friends, the ones he talked to when you went to the national gallery, and you found them to be a chaotic but welcoming bunch.

one time, after taking you through the hampton court palace, you stepped into the nearest gift shop right after. on the numerous times you asked to go to a gift shop, he noticed that you usually only bought a postcard with a photo of the place you just visited. and every time before he walks you back to your sister’s apartment, you always ask to stop by a cafe first where you take out the postcard and quickly write on it. this time, curiosity got the best of him.

“why don’t you buy anything else aside from a postcard? i’ll pay if you want,”

you look up from the card you were busy writing on and at seonghwa who is sitting in front of you.

“oh no, it’s fine. postcards are really all i need. not those shot glasses or bottle openers,” you chuckle as you go back to writing.

“then let me rephrase my question. why do you buy a postcard every day and also write on it hurriedly in a cafe every day?”

you look up again, and you guess it showed a bit of hesitancy because then he was suddenly waving his hands.

“oh! no, if you don’t wanna tell me, it’s fine. i was just curious,”

“you’re gonna laugh,” you give him a reassuring smile and look away.

“i won’t. scout’s promise,”

you look back at him and switch between his eyes, but you only found sincerity in them. you sigh as you finally tell him that you write on postcards like a diary, going through everything that’s happened on that day because you unfortunately have a poor memory.

“really?”

“yeah, i treat it like a travel journal. it’s so tedious to actually maintain one, so i do this instead,”

“who do you address them to?”

“... myself. i write them to myself .. from myself,”

he smiles fondly at the hobby of yours that he just discovered. “that’s cute. then, will you also mail them?”

“yeah!” you beam when he didn’t show any signs of feeling somewhat appalled or make any jokes. “it’s really cool to find them in your mailbox at home too. sometimes they even come home wet from rain,”

you go back to finishing on your postcard, but not without noticing the eyes that are constantly on you.

today wasn’t any different. it’s a saturday, and seonghwa promised to take you around the city again after meeting up in the morning with his group to work on a presentation. you accidentally woke up a little earlier than you intended, so you decided to surprise him at the college library.

you weren’t very good with directions, so it took you a while before you found his university. when you arrived, all your frustrations from going around in circles were suddenly washed away as you took in the beauty of the campus. most of the buildings looked a bit old, probably at least 100 years old, with distinct old english decorations half covered in vines. of course, there were still some more modern buildings, but there was a good balance between the two that makes the school feel homely.

a few students were coming in and out of the gates when you facepalmed yourself once you realized that there was no way of you getting inside without ruining the surprise.

seonghwa, on the other hand, was busy working on the slides for his group’s presentation. one of his groupmates who hasn't been helping also didn't show up today, so he now has to do their parts as well. he was starting to get fed up with the stress he was feeling, and being unable to let it out in a library was not helping- until he received a message from you.

y/n: hey

y/n: so uh

y/n: the stupidity kinda came out today

seonghwa: good morning to u too

seonghwa: did something happen?

y/n: im kinda outside ur school gates rn

y/n: but i realized i don’t have a student card lmao

seonghwa: WHAT .

seonghwa: stay right there

finally having an excuse to take a break, he told the rest of his group that he just needed to pick something up. he brisk walked towards the library doors and quickly ran across campus to where you were waiting.

“what are you doing here?”

“i was supposed to surprise you coz i woke up too early,” you slightly sulk as he ushers you into the campus. “now i made you leave your group. sorry about that,”

“don’t be. i needed a distraction. plus as long as it's you, i don’t mind,” he declares as he turns to you with a small smile on his face.

there he goes again. his words are so simple, but the way he says them with an air of grace and confidence makes him seem so dignified and somehow out-of-reach, yet it pulls you to him even more.

when you reach the library, he asks you to wait for him as he goes back inside to grab his things and take his leave from the group.

“where are we going, dora the explorer?”

“what do you mean, i’m just the monkey or the map at best,” he chuckles as you walk side-by-side with a distance in between you that may or may not be a little too small. “actually since you’re here, i thought we could go around campus for a while,”

“i’d like that. everything about it is so beautiful and enchanting, almost like castles pulled straight from fairytales if they were real,”

“they don’t compare to you, though. you’re at the center keeping all this beauty together,” again with the genuine smile and calm tone.

“stop being so cheesy without being a tease. it’s so hard to get annoyed with you like that,” you lightly punch his arm and he dramatically feigns pain as he rubs the spot you just hit.

“you’ll just have to get used to it,”

after walking around for some time, you find yourselves alongside a river where seonghwa sits under a tree, watching you take a few photos of the scenery and buildings.

“i have an idea. do you think you can do one of your routines here?”

“here? right now?”

“yeah i mean there's no one else here, and i wanted to take pictures of you,” you slightly blush as you realize what you just said.

“okay, i guess i can do one or two. but you’re only allowed to take good pictures,”

“even if i tried getting a weird photo of you, you’d still look good anyway,” you scoff, sitting down in the shade and leaning backwards on your hands to take a good look at him.

“take a picture. it’ll-”

“that’s old, seonghwa. try it on someone who’s not a photography major,” he laughs breathily as you take off your bright purple cardigan. “wear this,”

“while dancing? also i think my hair alone is already bright enough to stand out in a crowd,”

“just trust me,”

he mutters a small ‘okay’, removes his own cardigan and tie, and unbuttons his shirt before taking your piece of clothing.

“what are you doing?” your hands slip on the grass and you fall sharply on your elbows and back when you turn to see him shirtless.

“i don’t think your cardigan goes well with what i’m wearing,” he said with a teasing tone and a smirk plastered on his face.

once he’s fully clothed once again, you take the matching purple handkerchief wrapped around your hair and wrap it around his neck like a choker. you were so focused on tying the cloth properly and so closely that you didn’t notice the way seonghwa stared at your concentrated face and held in his breath.

“okay! now play a song and dance right there beside the river. just be careful,”

he walks over to the spot you pointed at and plays a melancholic song just loud enough for the both of you to hear. the moment you hear the music, his face contorts into something of pain and longing, and you were immediately enthralled.

a rush of a feeling you can’t quite place surges through you as you capture the man before you, pushing you to amplify all the emotions flowing through seonghwa as he seemingly floats on air. you were so entranced by the scene that you hardly registered the sound of your camera clicking and your body subconsciously kept moving around to find the right angle.

you didn’t even realize the song had already finished until he bent over on his knees panting. you get up and slowly walk towards him.

“seonghwa…”

just as you were about to shower him in compliments and admiration, another song started playing, this time more upbeat. he immediately looked up at you while stars seemingly twinkled in his doe eyes. “one more,”

you smile at how excited he looked and how he doesn’t seem to lose energy and walk back to where you were taking pictures.

a completely different person was dancing this time. he no longer looks like a man who’s lived 20 lives and experienced heartbreak in all of them. no, his inner child seemed to come to life as he danced in a different, more sharp style with a smile that almost hid his eyes. if just a while ago, he was a swan full of grace and poise, now he was a butterfly who is finally free and couldn’t have a care in the world.

by the time the first chorus of the song finished, you suddenly remembered that you brought your film camera with you today, so you rush back under the tree to grab it. you weren’t even sure if there was any film left inside. since you’re trying to capture a moving subject, you could only hope that the photos you’ll take with it will come out fine.

once the song finished, you immediately started clapping and cheering as he staggers towards the shade.

“that was so good! the stark difference between the two dances– and yet you expressed both emotions so well! i don’t know how you did it, but that was beautiful,” you beamed in awe as seonghwa lays flat on the grass with an equally radiant smile on his face.

“thanks. i haven’t had that much fun in a while. it felt kinda .. freeing,”

you put away your cameras and lay beside him, elation still coursing through your veins. you turn towards him to see that he’s closed his eyes in hopes to gain back his energy. his breathing matches yours as you both bask in the cool breeze.

“i have a question, which by the way you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable because i’m just cu-,”

“y/n, i promise i’m comfortable with you, but what is it?,” he chuckles slightly.

“is there any particular reason you chose to pursue dancing?”

he opens his eyes to stare at the leaves trying to block the harsh sun. “this might sound a bit cliche, but i used to watch my mom perform. she was a very graceful dancer until she suffered from an injury that stopped her from dancing. that didn't discourage me from pursuing it though. i always wanted to be like her, and i found that it was easy for me to express emotions when dancing. i also just enjoy the fulfillment that choreographing and learning routines give me. doing them with other people is also really fun,” he smiles as he stares into the distance longingly. “your turn,”

“me?”

“yeah, i’m curious too,” he turns to his side, props up his arm and leans his head on his hand while gazing at you. this time, it was you who stared up into the half empty sky.

“i got my first camera when i was 16. it was a simple disposable film camera, and i didn't wanna waste any film, so i tried teaching myself how to take good pictures. i really liked how you could tell stories and also show the beauty around me that only i could see in just one picture alone, but i was mostly into the idea of immortalizing memories and moments into a piece of film. i already told you that i usually have a hard time remembering things in the past, so the pictures i take are always dear to me,”

a comfortable silence takes over, so you turn your head to find seonghwa simply staring. “are you gonna say something?”

he goes back to lying on his back and sighs. “i was just thinking about what you said. i must have saved a kingdom in my past life for me to be among your pictures then,” he smiles and turns his head towards you.

you chuckle as you both continue to look into each other’s eyes, both wanting to say something but tongues seemingly caught in their throats.

“i have an idea,”

he gets up and pulls out his phone once again, making you sit up as well. “aren’t you tired?”

“nope,” he pops the ‘p’ as he scrolls through his phone. “i could never be tired of dancing,”

once he finds and plays the song he’s looking for, he sets it down and slightly bends over to bring his hand out in front of you.

“may i have this dance?”

“i don’t know how. plus you’re really sweaty,”

“c’mon, don’t ruin the moment,”

you reluctantly place your hand over his, and he helps you up. he places your left hand on the upper part of his arm, then he places his right hand behind your shoulder, his arm supporting yours up. he takes your other hand and clasps them together as he brings you closer to him.

“i never learned how to waltz,” you look down as you whisper sheepishly.

“look at me,” you do as he says and you find your breath caught in your throat as you stare into each other’s eyes. “relax, i’ll guide you. right foot forward first,”

you take your time trying to move around without stepping on his or your feet, which you do a few times, but he doesn’t even look the least bit annoyed. by the time you reach the last leg of the song, you finally get the hang of things, and you’re grinning with satisfaction.

at the end of the song, he spins you around, and you manage to stumble on your legs. you almost fall on your back, but he’s quick to hold you up, albeit a little too close to his face.

“hi,” he chuckled with childlike wonder before he helps you to your feet.

although the song is over, neither of you move or say anything, unable to leave the gaze you held upon each other.

“i think we should .. get going?” you ask as you look away from him upon sensing the growing tension. he simply nods as he takes off the clothes you gave him and changes into what he was wearing earlier.

“i’ll take these with me and wash them first,”

you can only agree as you remain in your flustered state. you both take your leave from the university campus, and seonghwa steps back into his tour guide character.

the rest of your time here in london was pretty much the same, a cycle of spending time with miyoung or seonghwa, and occasionally his friend group. however, the day you had to fly back home was slowly coming around, haunting you each day it does. you’d very much hate to leave, not when both miyoung and seonghwa are here.

miyoung knew that your last day in london was nearing, so she tried to spend more time with you. unfortunately for you, in that time, she noticed that you always had flowers when coming home, and now she knows that you’ve been ‘seeing’ a guy, although you've reminded her countless times that you and seonghwa weren't like that.

she then asked to invite him over a few times, wanting to meet and ‘approve’ or ‘disapprove’ of him. you were thankful that seonghwa was a good sport about it and even made your sister head over heels for him (in an approving ‘he’s too good for you!’ type of way).

on the other hand, you were too afraid to tell seonghwa that you were going back home in a few days. it was stupid, you know, but you couldn't find the right time to tell him.

that was your first mistake.

because when he appeared on your doorstep, flowers in hand and about to actually ask you out (but you didn't know that), he was more than devastated.

“you’re leaving?” you saw how his usual twinkling eyes suddenly looked empty, and it twisted something painfully inside you.

“yeah,” you whisper as you look away from him. “i’m really sorry i didn't tell you earlier. i couldn't bring myself to tell you,”

you take the flowers from his hands and open the door even further to let him inside the apartment, and he tries his best not to look too dejected.

that was your second mistake.

you offer him something from the kitchen, which he declines, and you wonder how long you'll be feeling guilty like this.

your flight is in a few hours, so you go back to your room as miyoung tries to strike a conversation with him to lighten the mood.

after a while, as you fold the remainder of your clothes, he knocks at your door, and you allow him in. in the corner of your eye, you notice him walking to your messy study table.

“are these .. all the flowers i’ve given you?”

you know exactly what he's talking about, and for some reason, it hurts you even more.

“yeah, i wanted them to last so i took a few and dried and pressed them,” you wanted to tell him that you wanted to keep every reminder of him that you could have, but you don’t.

“what about the postcards?”

“i already had them mailed this morning,”

“oh,”

you take in a deep breath and sigh shakily. you know exactly how you feel about the man, and what you wished you could say to him. your sister even helped you realize that last night. and you also reluctantly came to terms with the fact that you can’t be with him because it would be hard to maintain a long-distance relationship while it's still fresh.

and you cursed the universe for letting this happen to you.

just when you finally decided to stop actively looking for love, seonghwa casually enters your life and gives you exactly that.

it was scary how easily and quickly you became comfortable around him, so much so that you have never been so willing to give your whole self to someone in such a long time.

you may have been a tourist here in london, but he made you feel like your home belongs here, with him, in his arms.

“and these are the pictures you took of me?”

your head snaps up because you thought you already packed them.

“.. yeah,”

“they're beautiful. may i keep one?”

“of course. i still have the soft copy, so don’t worry,” you finish folding and packing your clothes, so you move to your table.

he watches as you clean up and pack the things on your table, carefully placing the dried flowers inside a notebook and the photos inside an envelope.

“do you mind if i drive you to the airport?”

“are you sure? are you not busy?”

“yeah, i’m sure. i wanna maximize my time with you,”

you slightly freeze at that and take your eyes away from his because you feel like you'll start crying if you keep eye contact with him.

before you know it, seonghwa’s already driving you and your sister to the airport, the flowers he brought earlier on your lap.

unloading your luggage and taking you to the entrance was faster than you would have liked.

you turn to your sister first, and she starts crying.

“stop crying. you know i’m just as emotional as you are,”

she cups your face and places your foreheads together, something you did when she also left your home for london.

“call me when you arrive, okay? and don’t you dare avoid my calls whatsoever,”

you smile and a tear falls from your eye as you hug her tight.

you then turned to seonghwa. you couldn't bring yourself to look up at him because you knew that the tears would never stop if you did.

“hey, look at me,”

you did exactly that and found that he also shed a tear, and now you really couldn't hold it in. you wrapped your arms around his torso and rested your head in the crook of his neck.

“don’t miss me too much,” he chuckled as he stroked your hair to calm you down. “call me too when you’ve arrived, okay? i promise we'll keep in touch coz i’m not going anywhere,”

you nod as you try to stop crying. before you released him from your hug, he whispers, “i wish you could stay,”

you finally break, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to recover. i would if you asked me to, but it’s too late for that now.

unable to do anything else out of fear of also breaking, he takes one of your hands gently as if they would break and kisses the back of it.

if you stayed in his presence a little longer, you knew you wouldn't be able to leave, so you took your luggage and went through the gates. you turned back to them once more to wave, and that was the last you saw of seonghwa.

two weeks after you arrived back at your home, you finally received the postcards you mailed. you found yourself smiling as you read whatever you wrote, your heart stinging at every mention of seonghwa.

in the first few months, you and seonghwa kept in touch pretty often, as he promised. although it was difficult to do so due to the difference in timezones and college work, you both tried to find time for each other.

however, it became more difficult as time passed. during calls, one of you would either fall asleep or end the call early. over time, you somehow felt like you no longer knew the man you fell hard for all those months ago.

just as quickly as you met and found love in him, he simply became a distant memory engraved in pictures and flowers.

it was now more than a year since your trip to london. you graduated a few months ago and were finally having your very first exhibit. it wasn't too crowded, but you were grateful for all the people who were interested in your work.

you were talking to one of your old college professors when one of the security guards told you that there was something for you at the lobby. you excused yourself and made your way to the concierge.

“hi, i was told there was something for me?”

“ah, miss y/l/n! yes, this bouquet is for you,” they hand you the bouquet they were talking about, and you check the tag for the sender.

there was no name written on it, but you noticed a familiar logo. you look again at the flowers, and you realize what combination they are- asters and white camellias.

you didn't need a second longer for you to know who this was from.

without even sparing the lady at the concierge a simple ‘thank you’, tears started threatening to fall, and you immediately ran back to your exhibit. you frantically searched for any pink-haired man that you might've missed, but to no avail. you tried to calm yourself down and slowly examined the side profiles of the people around, or what you can see of them anyway.

that's when you finally found him, looking at an all too familiar picture that you could recognize even if you were tens of feet away. this time, however, he dyed his hair black, and you thought it made him look even more regal and ethereal.

bouquet of asters and camellias in hand, you slowly make your way to the man as you wipe whatever tears had escaped. you stopped right behind him and sighed.

“hey, stranger.”

355 notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

could u please do like a harry x youtuber/influencer!reader and like lots of fluff🥺

Hi bubbie! Here you go :)))

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language

Harry was panicking. His mum and sister were going to be here in less than two hours and he’s burnt the eggplant parmigiana he had worked tediously on.

He grabbed what he had left in his fridge - ground beef, shredded cheddar cheese, and a little bit of bacon.

It was the type of foods he usually strayed away from so sometimes when his shopper would bring this stuff home - he’d avoid it and admittedly sometimes it would go bad sitting in the fridge.

The singer pulls up YouTube onto his phone - hoping something would come up when he typed in the ingredients on the search bar.

He clicks on the first video by cookingwithnofucks. A chuckle at the name as an advertisement plays.

A cute, bubbly girl appears on screen in a beautiful modern kitchen. She has a shirt on that says ‘fuck the patriarchy and eat pizza’. A high ponytail and minimal makeup.

“Okay - today we’re making a cheeseburger casserole,” the girl chirps, “It’s a heart attack in a dish but it’s so fucking good.”

Harry finds himself smiling as he crinkles his nose - it sounds absolutely disgusting but he’s intrigued more by the girl on the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. Hiii, if you’re new - I’m Y/N and I do cooking shit. Subscribe to my channel and all that jazz,” she titters while cutting open her beef package.

Harry follows along step-by-step, shaking his head as she doesn’t describe the instructions nearly well enough and is generally all over the place.

It’s a fucking cooking channel and at one point the meat starts burning. She just laughs and says, “s’just a little crispy!”

The casserole turns out looking even better than Y/N’s to be honest. It’s done in just the right amount of time for him to shower before his family arrives.

He makes sure to subscribe to her channel - eyebrows raising when he sees that she has 16 million subscribers.

Harry wanted to spend longer, looking at her social media but there was a fixed time so he locked his phone and went to get ready.

Anne - always the sweetheart just tells Harry that the casserole is delicious even as a bit of grease runs down her fork from the fatty meats.

Gemma wasn’t as kind, grimacing at the casserole and remarking, “You truly are turning into an American, huh?”

Laying in bed that night, Harry swipes back onto YouTube. Going back to the page he just subscribed to - under a pseudonym. He clicks on another video.

“Uh, okay. So I’m cooking...fuck, it’s called unicorn bark. It looks like a magical animal puke but it looks delicious so we’re going to try it.”

Harry realizes he’s been watching this girl cook for nearly an hour. Different videos from desserts to dinners.

She curses like a sailor, fucks up almost every recipe, and makes a mess everywhere. But she’s smiling and talkative which makes him quite memorized by her.

“I hate editing,” Y/N groans, letting her head fall dramatically against the desktop. Her best friend and dog looked at her oddly.

“I keep saying you need to hire someone, you stubborn bitch,” Laney retorts, clicking through her Instagram feed.

“Fuck off,” she tells her friend with no real heat. The video was almost fully edited - how to make spicy as fuck jalapeño poppers.

There is a calm silence for a while until Laney gasps, “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Y/N asks, not really caring as she clicks her mouse to trim a segment.

“Harry fucking Styles just followed you on Instagram and Twitter!” Laney shouts, her dog - Rufus popping his head up in confusion.

Y/N looks at her friend to see if she’s really serious and sees no signs of deception. “Oh my god,” Y/N replies. She loved Harry Styles in One Direction and as a solo artist - a fangirl if you will.

Y/N was a well-known influencer and has run in the circles of many celebrities. She’s even met Liam Payne but she’s never been able to bump into Harry.

Her alerts tell her it to be true, she swallows as she looks back up at Laney, “He dm’ed me.”

“Open it! What did he say?” She squeals, squeezing herself on the chair next to her, peering over her shoulder at the phone.

Y/N is a bit nervous, trying not to have a mini aneurysm as she opens the message thread.

HarryStyles: Hello. Just wanted to let you know that your cheeseburger casserole recipe saved my ass last night. Cheers x

“He’s totally coming onto you,” Her friend states instantly, bouncing excitedly - she also had a bit of a crush on the singer.

It takes the two of them a minute to cool their shit before Y/N manages a reply.

Y/N/LN: Well I guess it’s only fair. Your songs have made a few of my nights much better. I’m a bit of a slut for Fine Line.

Harry laughs behind his screen at the cheeky reply he gets back. He’s usually never this forward - especially on social media where he likes to fly under the radar.

HarryStyles: Well if you fancy my music that much, I totally love for you to come to a show. I’m performing in New York City in two weeks.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Y/N sputters to her friend, eyes wide at the invite to a concert she already had tickets to.

Y/N/LN: I’m not going to lie, I already have tickets to the show. However, I don’t have any backstage passes to meet the man of the hour. Do you know someone who can hook me up?

It does wonders for Harry’s narcissism to know that she already had tickets for his concert. Was he really going to do this? He hasn’t met up with some like this since his One Direction days.

He had to remind himself - she may just be friendly and take this as a totally casual interaction. Which would be normal, Harry really shouldn’t be so infatuated with someone he’s watched cook on social media.

HarryStyles: I think I can arrange that. Shoot me your number? I’ll have them sent digitally to you with instructions on how to get backstage.

Y/N is a bit dumbfounded at how fast they agreed to meet up. A harmless backstage tour - he could just be a fan of hers and totally not interested, right?

Over the next few weeks, they never really stop texting. Harry sends her pictures of the recipes he copies off her channel - that usually always look better than the original. He sends her clips of him goofing around during tour rehearsal. FaceTimes her when he’s finally home for the night.

She sends him videos of her watching Harry Styles Best Moment Part Five. A few photos she snaps throughout the city of him on billboards and buildings, in Times Square. YN facetimes him when she’s frustrated with filming or watched a sad movie.

It didn’t make sense to either of them how seamlessly they’d clicked - especially without meeting. They were a perfect balance for each other. Harry - laidback, organized, level-headed. Y/N - eccentric, all over the place, adventurous.

Jeff had told him that he’s been gaining media attention from his social media interactions with Y/N. They like each other’s photos, begin following each other’s friends, and comment goofy things on their posts.

“Listen, I have a great idea,” Y/N begins - which Harry learned is never good. “You should film a video with me sometime.”

Y/N knew she was going out on a limb and instantly regretted the questions she’d been building the courage to ask for days when it’s quiet on his end. There’s static for a moment and Y/N needs to fill the silence.

“It was - I was just, uh, I know you’re probably too busy. I was -“ She stutters, embarrassment flooding her.

Harry cuts her off, “I’d love to.”

“Yo-you would?” She asks timidly. Was she really going to have Harry Styles in her apartment? If so, should she take down her poster?

He laughs sweetly, “Why do you sound so surprised? I can’t wait to come to New York, love.”

Y/N giggles, “Not the fact that you’re performing in front of a sold out crowd at MSG? I don’t think seeing me will top that.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meetin’ you in person since I came across your channel. You so lovely,” Harry replies, his voice a little softer but more serious.

“I’m nervous,” Y/N admits, picking at a thread in her jeans.

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, despite not wanting to admit it - he wanted her to know this was new territory for both of them. He didn’t want her to think that this was something that he did often. But a little too prideful to admit it’s the first time he’s ever done something quite like this.

“What if you don’t like me?” Y/N whispers, she...well she didn’t compare to the models he’s been seen with before. She’s regretfully fell into the rabbit hole of looking up his past flings and relationships.

Harry barks out a disbelieving laugh, “You can’t be serious, darling. I’ve been gone for you since I saw you burn that ground beef.”

Harry was having a bad day - scratch that. An awful one. He tried to go get coffee at eight in the morning and got bombarded by fans, he left the shop without even ordering. They followed him back to his car and it took him fifteen minutes to pull out.

His favorite Mickey Mouse Gucci suitcase he was bringing along on tour had busted. The zipper unraveling and the trim falling off as a result. It was a one-of-a-kind.

Then he’d been stuck on a Skype meeting about tour merchandise with a group of business partners for the last three hours - all he wanted was a fucking nap.

When Y/N’s contact vibrated across his screen, he’s itching to answer but declines as he needs to give these people his attention.

When she calls again, Harry feels a prickle of annoyance. It’s not even at her - to be quite honest. It’s just the shitty day and everything’s piling up.

He always got like this before he kicked off a tour - stress level maxed out and his ability to handle minor incidents nearly shot.

I’m busy

Okay! Sorry, just have a super exciting surprise for you, bub!

I really do not feeling like talking. I’d rather be left alone.

Oh, alright. Hope everything’s okay! Do you still want to facetime later?

Harry leaves her on read because he doesn’t want to slip up and take out his frustration on her. He’d been known to do that and he didn’t want her to think he was anything but besotted with her.

Y/N feels a little hesitant as she begins the uploading process to her channel. The red loading bar told her it’d be twenty-minutes before it’s going to be posted to her 16 million subscribers - one of them being Harry himself.

Twenty-minutes for her to back out and cancel the upload. She starts having doubts about it when Harry never replies to her text which is unlike him.

She takes Rufus out to avoid staring at the loading screen with unnecessary anxiety and uneasiness.

Harry is just getting home from a business dinner with the touring company’s management team. The tension and anxiety from today piling up on his shoulders and he just wants to call Y/N and crash in bed.

He tosses his keys in the little bowl in the entry and kicks off his dingy white vans to the side. His phone dings with an alert from Gemma.

You two are the literal cutest ever. It’s quite gross.

Harry slides onto a stool in his kitchen, confused by the text message before she’s sending the link to him.

Fine Line Inspired Cupcakes!

Harry isn’t quite sure why his heart starts pounding furiously in his chest. A sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this was probably the surprise she was excited about.

He clicks on the thumbnail.

“Hiiii, it’s Y/N. Okay, well today we are going to bake some Fine Line inspired cupcakes. And if you haven’t listened to the album - get your ass out from rock you’re living under and stream it on Spotify!”

She has her hair down in long, waves and a loose cropped shirt that says TPWK in rainbow embroidery.

Harrys mouth is dry and he can’t take his fucking eyes away from the screen.

“Soo, I was thinking the first batch would be cherry flavored? ‘Cause he has a song titled ‘Cherry’. Let’s start there. First - I need to find my measuring cups.”

In true Y/N fashion, she scours her kitchen - cussing and yanking stuff out of her neatly organized cabinets before huffing and storming off to the side.

She comes back into view, a little frazzled but smiling when she holds up the ring of plastic measuring spoons, visible bite marks notched into the material.

“My asshole of a dog had a little snack,” Y/N shows the camera before shrugging, “Let’s get this shit started. Okay, you’re going to need one cup of sugar - no wait, two? I can’t read my fucking handwriting.”

Harry’s absolutely enamored by this scatter-brained, giggly girl who manages to produce cute blue and pink cupcakes that very vaguely resembled his album cover. His heart felt a million times too big for his chest.

He was enraptured for the entirety of the thirty minute video without taking his eyes away once.

To be honest, he hadn’t felt this way since his last relationship which was over a year ago at this point.

It’s not even a thought as he’s requesting a FaceTime with Y/N.

She answers after a few rings. She has a green face mask painted on her nose, chin, and forehead with gold eye masks under each eye. She is so fucking ridiculous it’s not even funny.

What is even more ridiculous is how gone Harry is realizing he is for her. She was quirky, unfiltered, carefree. If he was honest - he hadn’t met a girl like that in a very long time - especially a well-known influencer.

“Hi! How was your day, grumpy?” Y/N asks brightly, making a goofy face as the mask begins to tighten and crack on her skin. Not holding the earlier conversation against him and deciding to just move forward. She understood how stressful it can be.

“M’sorry. I was a bit grumpy,” He admits, “I loved your new video, darling. Did you make those just f’me?”

He can tell she’d be blushing if her face wasn’t covered, a bit bashful as she mutters, “You already know I did it for you.”

“You’re too sweet to me, only six days until we meet,” Harry replies, voice taking on a slow, lazy drawl.

“Six days,” Y/N repeats, eyes crinkling as she smiles with excitement.

“Is this outfit too much?” Y/N panics. Even though there’s literally nothing she can do about it - they’re already walking towards the backstage entrance of the massive arena. It’s still about two hours until the show starts but Harry requested her to come earlier.

Laney sighs, “For the millionth time, you look fucking sexy and Harry’s going to want to rail you right when he sees you.”

Y/N shoves her lightly with a faux annoyance as they meet up with a burly man who’s blocking the entrance to the backstage hallway and rooms.

She gives him their names and pulls up the passes on her phone before he’s nodding with any expression and letting them pass.

They’re not quite sure where to go from here so they begin to wander down the long hallway toward what looks to be the main area that people are milling about.

Y/N is nearly on the ground when someone rounds the corner without looking and walks right into her. Both of them let out huffs of air as they collide and attempt to stabilize themselves.

But there are large hands grasping her arms and holding her steady. In typical Y/N fashion she’s already cursing, “fuckin like a brick wall, look out next time.”

Then she’s looking up to Harry staring back down at her with an amused expression. He doesn’t let go of her and instead tugs her against his bare chest. He’s warm and a bit sweaty - like he’d just worked out. He was only in a pair of thin, running shorts, nike tennis shoes, and a little clip holding his hair off of his face.

Y/N can’t help but wrap her arms around his waist, returning the embrace and amazed by how right it feels to be in his arms. Her face tucks right against his collarbone and it’s like they’d known each other for years.

Pictures and videos don’t do this man justice. He’s gorgeous - sharp edges and dark inked skin. Tall and muscular but dimples that are carved in his cheeks.

“Nice to meet you, m’Harry,” Harry rumbles, removing one hand from Y/N’s shoulder to reach out his hand to her friend.

Laney shakes his hand before asking, “Laney. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Where’s the food?”

Harry chuckles against Y/N’s wavy hair, “Down the hall to the left.”

Laney’s trailing off without another glance, she was very food motivated despite her skinny frame. Also not wanting to intrude of the very personal first moments of their meeting.

The popstar pulls back to look down at the girl he’s fallen for in mere weeks. She’s as beautiful as he thought she'd be - if not more. He can’t help himself, “Would it be too forward to kiss you?”

Y/N smiles widely, running a hand along his jawline, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since you stayed up on FaceTime with me until two in the morning as I cried after watching The Notebook - despite me seeing it a million times.”

Harry ducks forward to press his lips softly to her, large hands come to cup the side of her face as they connect. He’s so gentle as he moves his mouth against hers. In true Y/N fashion, she’s bold and has no hesitation slipping her tongue into his mouth.

He’s so fucking in love with her. It doesn’t make much sense - it’s definitely not logical but he’s realizing that’s okay.

“Oii, get a room!” Someone shouts from down the hallway teasingly.

Harry flips them the middle finger and pulls back, pink lips swollen and puffy, dimples on full display, “Let me take you out to dinner after the show, darling.”

“You going to wine and dine me, Styles?” Y/N giggles, unable to contain the pleasant warmness he’s spreading through her body.

“Mmm, have t’make sure you’ll want to keep me,” Harry murmurs happily against her lips once again, pressing kiss after kiss to her to make sure she’s real, “Definitely want to keep you.”

Y/N bites teasingly at his bottom lip, hand planted on the soft but firm skin of his stomach, “You’re never getting rid of me, hope you know that.”

“Was hoping you’d say that, now let me introduce you to my band.”

-- ---- ---- -- 1 year later - -- --- --- --

“Hi bitches! Today is a super special day. We have the one, the only Harry Styles filming with us. I know that’s not really that special since he’s on here all the time with me. But we’re celebrating our one year anniversary!” Y/N smiles, bumping hips with Harry who stands dutifully next to her.

Anyone viewing can see the absolute heart-eyes and adoration he has for the girl standing next to him. He’s still as lovestruck and gone for her as he was the first time they met. Harry’s fans were thrilled - for the first time in years, he’d opened up again.

They weren’t very public on social media beside’s tagging each other in memes and posting the occasional picture. Y/N was constantly uploading cooking videos from wherever in the world she was with Harry on his tour, she’d also begin making vlogs about different foods she’s been experiencing.

---

“Okay, so here in Peru - they’re known to have this really fucking spicy beef with noddles. So obviously, I’m going to make Harry try it first,” Y/N laughs as she props the camera up on the side of the table on a napkin holder.

Harry - who has a concert in a few hours - frowns at the steaming dish in front of him, “Darling, I don’t want to try it first. It’s going to burn my mouth. Not gonna be able to sing.”

“You’re sucha baby sometimes,” Y/N rolls her eyes, slurping up the noodles with her fork while making a silly face at her boyfriend. She pulls back, straight-faced, “It’s not hot at all. Tastes amazing, though.”

Harry takes that as an initiative to shovel a spoonful into his mouth. It only takes half a moment until his taste buds erupt in fiery flames from the spices, “You bloody little brat, y’tricked me! It’s so fuckin’ hot!”

Y/N smiles widely, laughing much too loudly in the restaurant when Harry chugs the glass of water next to the plate while glaring at his love. “I’m sorry, s’just to easy with you, lovie,” She replies, leaning over the table to press a kiss to his lips.

He’s a sucker for her and kisses her right back despite his mouth being an inferno. His heart was on fire for her and that burned much more intensely.

---

“No, love. The instructions say baking soda, not baking powder. They’re not the same thing,” Harry sighs, attempting to read her scribbled, sloppy handwriting. She’d already spilled milk on half of the paper.

“S’interchangeable, right?” Y/N hums, cracking an egg into the bowl and Harry automatically knows to look to fish out the eggshells that’d she’d let slip in because she sucks at cracking eggs but always wants to do it.

Harry reaches over her, grabbing the vanilla extract and a teaspoon, “It’s not, baby. Lemme do this real quick.”

“Will you make me a grilled cheese after this?” She asks, nuzzling into his side and wrapping her arms around his waist as he finishes adding the wet ingredients to their bowl. Harry stopped questioning her thought process a long time ago.

Harry swipes his finger into the mixture of icing off to the side and rubs it right onto her nose, cackling at her pout and squeaking when she pinches at the fleshy skin of his hips. She in turn dips her finger into the sugary cream and pops it right into her mouth.

Harry eyes darken, watching her lips purse as she sucks off the icing. It was a dirty move on Y/N’s part and she knows it. It has her boyfriend dragging an icing-covered thumb along her collarbone before leaning down to slowly lick up the sugary trail with his tongue.

When Y/N slides her fingers into his hair and lets out a pretty moan, Harry’s standing back up, trailing over to the tripod and saying into the camera, “We’ll be back after a little commercial break,” and is then turning off the record button.

It takes little to no time for Harry to have Y/N’s bum on the countertop, mouth on her neck, and hand in-between her thighs.

And when they finally posted a very edited final cut of the video - well there may be a couple of fans who notice the how flushed Y/N is halfway through and a lovely purple mark on Harry’s neck that wasn’t there in the beginning of the video.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing request #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles prompt #harry styles x influencer y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble

2K notes · View notes

topazy · 2 years

Text

Inside, outside

Pairing: 10k x reader, Addy Carver sister!reader

Warnings: swearing, kidnapping, drinks being spiked

Chapter: 1.11

You turn and peer out of the vehicle, finding no movement or signs of life while trying to ignore the crushing emptiness you feel inside.

“Do you think we will ever see them again?” Cassandra asked quietly.

“Mack and Addy?” Warren locked eyes with you.

You lean your head against the glass window, as a soft sigh escapes your lips. “It’s fine. Be honest about what you think.”

For days, nobody had mentioned either of them trying their best not to upset you.

She nodded, “Honestly? My heart says yes, but my mind says no.”

Doc shook his head, “I was kind of hoping they’d make it with us to the promised land.”

10K gave you a reassuring smile.

You felt guilty for being so sad. When the apocalypse started, you only had Addy, and now you had a group of people who felt like family. Even on the bad days, they still made you laugh and smile. You were never really alone. But your sister had just chosen a cult over you, and her boyfriend probably died trying to get her out.

And it’s hard not to agonise over that.

Warren grunts, “Now what?”

As soon as she realises how many cars are blocking the road, Warren spins the truck and drives onto a golf course. She stopped in front of a wooden bridge to see if it was strong enough to hold the weight of the truck.

You jumped on top of the bridge, “seems pretty solid.”

“Citizen Z calling all cars, calling all cars.”

Warren’s brows lift. “Delta- Xray back at you.”

“Hello, good to hear from you again. It’s been days, and I worry.”

“Thanks mom,” Warren quipped. “Any news on Mack or Addy?”

“No, nothing yet. Maybe they’re just off the grid and can’t make contact... For what it’s worth, Astra, I’ve overheard them talking about you loads. I know Addy will definitely be missing you.”

“Aww, wait! Can you always hear what we are saying?” You asked. You thought of the times you’d teased Addy about Citizen Z crushing on her, you hoped he hadn’t heard it.

Murphy snatched the radio from Warren's hands. “Murphy is pissed! Where the hell is that lab you keep talking about? And have you found that witch doctor that almost killed me?”

“I’m still working on that.”

“And you call yourself the NSA?” Murphy spat. “Quit looking at porn and find that quack. We've got business to settle.”

“Even nerds watch porn,” Doc elbowed 10K playfully.

“You’ve never watched porn?”

He pauses for a long minute, looking at you with an intense expression on his face. “Have you?”

You chuckled, “I plead the fifth.” Hearing a rustling sound, you spin round fast, “Z’s!”

You take turns firing at them until Warren and 10K both run out of ammo. You all retreat to the clubhouse.

You locked the door behind you, then noticed there was a person missing, “Murphy?”

“He’s safer out there than we are here,” Doc said, pointing towards a bathroom.

As the Z’s break through the glass doors, you, Warren, and Doc push up against the bathroom door. More Z’s pushed on the opposite side, making it harder. “This isn’t going to hold much longer!”

10K eyes light up, “gunfire?”

The pressure on the other side of the door lightens as gunfire echoes nearby. After a moment, a voice calls, “You can come out now.”

“That wasn’t Murphy,” you whisper.

“It wasn’t a Z either,” Warren says, with uncertainty in her voice. “All right, get ready.”

You pull the knife out of your belt, waiting for the door to open. When you exit the bathroom, two armed men and a woman are standing waiting for you. “It’s okay, it’s all clear.”

“Nice timing.”

“Don’t get too relaxed,” the woman says. “There is more out there.”

“I don’t believe it,” the younger man says.

You follow his train of vision to see Murphy playing golf outside, while wearing a stupid blazer that he’s probably stolen from a Z.

“Son of a bitch,” you say as you walk outside. “Did you not think of helping us?”

Murphy laughed at your words before confronting the strangers. “Who the hell are who?”

“Brett Zimmerman,” he said, motioning to the older man. “This is Henry and Janis.”

Warren stepped forward and introduced everyone. “I’m Roberta Warren. This is 10K, Doc, Cassandra, and Astra. The fool with the jacket golfing with the zombies is Murphy.”

—

You watch as Doc chews on a piece of meat from the grill. The strangers who saved you had invited you to stay for dinner. At first, Warren tried to refuse, but they insisted, and said you could stock up on supplies.

Brett poured a strange-smelling liquid into your glass and asked, “Do you have any ID, Miss?”

“Carver,” you answered. “And no, I don't think anyone does now.”

“Oh, well,” he shrugged before sitting back down. “I won’t be needing it now anyway, since I’ve already found out everything I need to know.”

“And that is?”

“You're a miss, not a Mrs,” he winked.

You struggle to keep your composure as a hand light smacks against your thigh. You give Cassandra a wide-eyed look, telling her to stop. She and Doc both found Brett's flirting funny, but 10K didn’t look impressed.

“So Warren,” Brett said with a smile.

You can see Warren nod her head and say, “Roberta.”

“Roberta,” he repeats. “Would you like to make a toast?”

Everyone minus you takes a drink as Warren raises a glass to absent friends. It doesn’t take long for Murphy to make the conversation about himself, as he starts telling them how he’s the saviour of the world. A look of concern crosses Warren's face.

You let out a snort, “Murphy tends to... spin his stories a little to fit his audience.”

Janis turns and gives you a cold stare, “We all know what we saw outside.”

“Only a mad man would believe him,” you chuckle, trying to pretend everything Murphy said was one big joke.

You lean back in the chair and go to take a sip of your drink, but stop when you notice Brett staring. His stare sends a chill down your spine.

You look across the table and notice 10K's head swaying. You reach across and grab his arm, “you feeling okay?”

He doesn’t reply. 10k slowly moves further forward until he is completely leaning on the table, and his head is pressed against his plate. “10K,” you say, shaking his hand. “Tom-”

Murphy cuts you off with a loud laugh, “he’s just had his first sip of alcohol. He’s passed out. Don’t fret.”

For a moment, you thought you were going crazy until the glass slips from Cassandra’s hand, smashing on the ground as she falls forward. Warren reaches for her weapons but falls to the ground.

You lock eyes with Murphy, and he looks just as scared as you.

Brett lets out a frustrated sigh, and pulls out his fun. “Now, what to do with you.”

“Let-”

You stopped talking when he pointed the gun at you. “Drink every drop, or I’ll blow your head off.”

You picked up the glass, your hands trembling as you brought the drugged drink to your lips.

—

“Mom!” Addy yelled, as she stormed down the stairs. “Tell her to stop stealing my clothes!”

Your mom let out a frustrated sigh as she ran a hand across her growing bump and said, “Addison, stop yelling, and Astra, ask your sister if you can borrow her things.”

You pouted. All Addy had done since her sixteenth birthday was whine and moan. “Whatever, Maggie’s mom is taking us to the cinema soon. I need to finish getting ready.”

Your mom raised her brows, “and where did you get the money for tickets?”

“Dad, he said I could go because I’d done all my chores and finished all my homework.”

Addy yelled from the other room, “Suck up!”

Your mum rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. But no sneaking into scary movies again.”

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pain shooting through your arms. Your eyes open, and you see a blur of objects through a window. You are in the boot of a car with your hands tied behind your back, and a gag is pulled tight in your mouth, and you feel your anger growing.

You struggle to sit up, but when you do, anger fills you. Murphy is sitting in the backseat beside Henry. You begin to kick at the chairs and try to scream through the gag.

Murphy slowly turns to face you and shakes his head. You stop kicking and yelling. “Where the hell are you taking me?”

“Just enjoy the ride,” Brett said calmly. “We have food, water, and fuel. You and your friends had no food, no water and were running on fumes.”

“I mean, are these really necessary?” Murphy held up his cuffed hands. “Look, I get it. You heard everything I said, and you figured there might be something in it for you if you get me to California. But why the girl? She’s not special.”

Henry grinned, “We aren’t going to California. And we don’t mind having another pretty face to look at.”

Oh, shit.

You were really screwed and didn’t have a lot of options. You listened in to their conversation and the moment Brett says he left the others for the Z's, you realise you only have one option. You needed to get away from these people by any means necessary.

—

Eventually, Brett pulled over by the side of a river. When you heard multiple footsteps going in different directions, you thought they were going to leave you in the boot, but Janis opens it and yanks you out roughly. You land on your ass, sending a shooting pain up your back.

“Get up!” She snaps.

You get to your feet and start to struggle, trying to slip yourself from your cuffs, causing them to make a clanging noise.

Brett scoffed at you, “Take the cuffs off. If she tries anything, we shoot her.”

Janis reluctantly pulls out a small key and unlocks it. With your hands free, you pull the gag from your mouth and spit out the material that had stuck to the inside of your mouth.

Henry brushes past you, “Keep up! Or it’s the firing squad.”

You look over at Murphy, who is tilting his head. At first you didn’t understand, but then you noticed the camera. You feel relief flowing through you. Citizen Z would be able to help somehow. He always did.

—

You were now sandwiched between Murphy and Henry in the backseat of the car.

Murphy does what he does best, which is irritating people. After being openly mocked by Murphy, Brett pulled over to the side of the road. “Six miles from here is a pharmaceutical company. That’s where we are going next.”

“Can we please go to Disneyland next?”

Brett raised his finger at you and said, “he’s not replaceable, you are.”

You step back, as Brett explains their plan. Murphy's job is to walk into the warehouse full of meth zombies to pick up drugs for them. His part seemed clear enough, but yours didn’t. And that’s what scared you most.

—

You frowned when Janis slowed her pace and walked beside you. “Bet you are wondering why you are here, huh?”

“Yeah, you can imagine the scenarios running through my head.”

She tutted, “When you were inside, I overheard your little boyfriend and the old guy talking about you and how many great adventures you’ve had together.”

Your brows furrowed at her comment. You didn’t understand what she was talking about.

“They said you helped save a guy who was dying during a storm,” she said, sounding skeptical. “The old guy said you were one of the strongest people he knew.”

You give her a weird look and say, “Doesn’t explain why I’m here?”

“Henry is sick. So are others. People will pay good money to have a nurse look over them.”

“I’m not a nurse!” you notice Murphy staring at you. He looks up at the sky, then back down. You nod, understanding what he was thinking of. Citizen Z. “You should really go talk to Murphy. I’m sure he’ll enjoy your company more.”

With a scoff, Janis storms off. When you're sure none of them are watching, you slowly start to undo your belt, and slide it off. You gently place it on the side of the pathway.

When you stop for a break, you excuse yourself by saying you need to pee, so you have a reason to walk away. When you stopped looking for a tree facing the way you just came, you pulled out your knife and carved an ‘A’ into it, before joining the others. Upon hearing a gunshot, you speed up.

“What just happened?”

“Nothing,” Murphy said as Henry snatched the gun from him.

As Brett orders everyone to move along, you spot the blazer Murphy was wearing lying on a log. He was leaving a trail behind, the same as you.

—

When you reach a small ridge, Brett stops, saying that the place you're looking for is just on the other side. He steps closer to you and looks at you up and down. “You had more clothes on. What happened to them?”

“Oh,” you grabbed at your waist, pretending you didn’t realise you were now only wearing a thin vest top. “I didn’t notice I’d lost my jacket.”

“Or your jumper?” He held your gaze. “Hands behind your back.”

“Seriously? What if a Z comes?”

His jaw twitches in anger. “That’s not my problem, now turn!”

You comply and spin the other way with your hands behind your back. He puts the cuffs on tighter this time, and you groan as you feel the fabric tighten around your mouth.

“Go sit over there, and don’t move,” he orders.

You should go sit under the tree he pointed out. He’s fucking crazy. Janis gives you a sympathetic look before tying your feet together with rope. You were completely helpless.

As a scuffle breaks out between Murphy and the rest of the kidnappers. You tried to kick your legs apart, but it caused you to lose balance and roll down the slope. You cried out as you hit the bottom, and when you looked back, Murphy and the others were gone.

—

Hearing voices nearby, you stopped struggling against your restraints and listened.

“Mess pharmaceuticals.”

It was Doc. You tried your best to scream, but they couldn’t hear you. Fuck it. You managed to spin round and face the fence. You kicked at it hard, causing it to vibrate and make a loud noise. Luckily, a loud alarm distracted the Z's.

“What the hell is that?” You stopped kicking when you heard Warren’s voice.

“I’m down here!” You tried to scream out before kicking the fence again.

You could hear clatter from the radio, followed by muffled voices. You let out a muffled sob, knowing it would take a miracle for them to find you. Frustrated, you take all your anger out on the fence.

“10K, I’ve found her!” You can hear Warren yelling. “You get her, and we’ll get Murphy.”

Seconds later, the gag was pulled from your mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as relief washed over you. 10K cut the rope, freeing your legs, then helping you to your feet.

He ran his fingers over your arms lightly, taking in the small cuts and forming bruises, “are you-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips against his. The kiss was soft, 10Ks' hands lifting to your face to hold you in place. You pulled back and let out a frustrated groan.

10K looked at you worried.

“I need to find the damn keys for these.”

He raised his brows, as if he’d forgotten your hands were cuffed. 10K put his arm around you as you walked towards the warehouse.

When you got inside, you went into a room filled with large boxes of drugs. 10K spotted the others and led you towards them, with his gun in one and the other on your back.

When you approached them, you noticed what they were all staring at. Murphy. Brett was standing beside him, holding a gun under his chin. “You are a weak man, Brett. You were going to kill me and everyone else and do God knows what with the girl.”

Brett’s voice shook as he spoke, “it’s the apocalypse.”

“The apocalypse is better off without you,” Murphy shook his head and walked away.

Seconds later, Brett pulled the trigger.

Everyone was stunned. Murphy had somehow made Brett kill himself.

You broke the silence, “can we please start looking for the keys to the cuffs?”

—

You woke up to the feeling of warmth against you. 10K had placed his jacket over your bare arms and was now snoozing softly behind you as your head lay on his chest.

Cassandra was sleeping as well. Your eyes trailed to her bandaged leg that had blood stains on it. It worries you that her wound still hasn’t healed. Murphy was sleeping as well, with his head resting against his jacket.

10K must have felt you move because his arm was wrapped around you tighter.

You relaxed into him until you heard your name, then you instantly stiffened.

“She must be going through something pretty bad, Doc. I would have bet my life on Addy leaving that place,” Warren said quietly. “Astra is holding it together a lot better than I thought she would.”

“Hard enough to think she’d leave Mack, but the kid back there?” He tutted. “We are dropping like flies.”

“Well, we'll have to stick together in the future,” she said after a brief pause. “Hammond, Garnett, Addy, Mack. Getting that bonehead to California is the only way to make our losses mean something.”

As your brain processed what she said, you blinked away tears. She was right. Getting to California was the only thing that mattered now. It was the only way to honour all those you’d lost during the mission.

114 notes · View notes

theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage.

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.”

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim.

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?”

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked.

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.”

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet.

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back.

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.”

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?”

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush.

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering.

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead.

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.”

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder.

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in.

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?”

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh.

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.”

#nessian #snacmc #snacmc lawki #modern au #lawki #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acosf

222 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!

2K notes · View notes