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#surely the writers wouldn’t go really big and dramatic right???
willievermakeithome · 2 years
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just saying - Junho didn’t exactly look overjoyed by Woo Youngwoo’s confession this epi (which we ALL know he is, which means some*thing* is up)
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satorisoup · 9 days
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“ 𝓐𝓝 𝓐𝓟𝓟𝓛𝓔 𝓐 𝓓𝓐𝓨 ! ”
ft. satoru gojo
cw : fluff. confessions. surprise smooch. writers block hit me like a bus i fear… </3
wc : 614
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“ satoru, you’re gonna knock down the whole tree doing that ! ”
you tried to warn him, you really did. but satoru has his own way of doing things, and if apple picking meant shaking the entire tree by the log, then so be it.
the rustle of the leaves and hard thump is followed by a loud “ ow ! ”, and you can only guess that satoru had been bonked in the head by an apple as he rubs the pain away.
“ that’s what you get for trying to man handle mother nature. ”
the pout that takes over his face at your words is humoring, priceless even, as he scoffs at you, or the tree, who really knows.
“ i thought an apple a day was supposed to keep the doctor away ! ” satoru remarks, whine in his voice and squint in his eye has he stares at the culprit, a big red apple on the hayish ground.
“ yeah well, you’re about to be sent to the doctor by one if you do it like that. ”
satoru lets out a dramatic, long sigh, expressing his defeat as he moves to pick up the bruised red apple from it’s place.
“ also, that saying isn’t totally untrue y’know. apples are healthy. ”
in retrospect, satoru agrees. they are healthy. but the one thing that betrays him, disagreeing to his demise, is his mouth and the words that expel from it like a nonstop waterfall.
“ hm, well apples are dumb. all i know is, if we were dating, i’d keep you healthy. you wouldn’t have to rely on some stupid fruit. ”
a pause, before an obvious question to make sure you heard him right.
“ what ? ”
“ what ? ”
“ huh ? ”
“ huh ? ”
“ satoru. ”
“ that’s me. ”
there was no winning with satoru, stubborn as ever. you’re almost sure you heard him correctly, but you wanted him to say it again so your conclusion would arrive faster.
his face is turned away from you, probably embarrassed at the fact that he most definitely said that out loud, and you were not going to give up on getting your answer any time soon.
satoru wants to say it, loud and proud, right to your face. he feels his body tingling with a foreign feeling of nervousness, mustering up the courage to do so—
but you’re giggling before the words can even escape his big, loud mouth.
“ ts’ not funny ! ”
“ t-that apple must’ve bonked you rea-real hard toru’ ! ”
“ m’ not joking ! ”
“ o-oh really ? prove it then ! ”
oh, screw it.
in a flurry of impulse, satoru is grabbing the hand thats covering your giggles. a quick, deep hitch in his breath before he’s leaning down and doing exactly what you asked of him, proving it to you.
his lips connect with yours at the speed of light, your eyes widening in shock before the surprise dissipates into a tingle that rises from your feet to your spine.
your lips are soft, so soft. the taste of your strawberry chapstick is clouding his senses before he’s pulling back to look at you.
“ i bet an apple couldn’t do that. ” of course, you would expect nothing less from the infamous satoru gojo than to spoil a moment with one of his stupid jokes.
“ quit saying corny stuff or i might just have to kiss you again, toru’. ”
“ ooo you wanna kiss me again so bad— ”
“ you— shut your mouth ! ”
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heliza24 · 1 year
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Love your blog and all your analysis!!
Many people didn't like S2 because Simon, according to them was just a tool to drive Wilhelm's story, a love interest only and didn't really have his own story. In particular, many are frustrated at the lack of narrative on the video's effect and Simon's subsequent trauma. Of course, everyone's allowed their opinions but seeing as you have experience in the world of writing and making tv magic, wanted to get your insight on this. Thanks, a S2 fan! 💜
Hi anon! Thanks for the question.
I’ve already written pretty extensively about Simon’s arc in season 2 and why I like it in this post. In short, I think he grows a lot in season 2, but his growth takes him towards emotional vulnerability and openness, which is not something we’re used to seeing in characters (especially not male ones). 
I also don’t mind how they address Simon’s trauma in season 2. I’m going to approach this momentarily not as a writer, but as someone who has been in therapy for years. There are some traumas that have happened to me (like a serious car accident when I was a kid) that are very concrete, with a set beginning and end, and that began to affect me right away. (I had ptsd symptoms pretty immediately after that accident). But there are other traumas that feel like a series of small cuts instead of one big punch. It’s harder to decide where they begin and end, and their effects are more subtle. Sometimes it takes me years to even realize that they were traumatic and that they are still affecting me. (The medical trauma I’ve experienced as an adult over several years is like this). To me this is more what Simon is dealing with with the video. Once the video goes online, it’s not coming down. There’s no set end date, and Simon spends most of season 2 not even knowing who the perpetrator was. He’s in the kind of no-man’s land between the initial blow and coming to understand how the whole process has affected him. That being said, I do think we see some changes in him that reflect what he’s gone through. He seems to care a lot less about his academic classes than he did in season 1. He’s writing music in an attempt to process what he’s been through. And you could even see his attempt to have sex with Marcus as a trauma response. The last time he hooked up with someone his agency was taken from him. So it makes sense to me that he’s eager to have sex again but fully on his own terms, to partially erase that feeling of not being in control. I don’t know for sure if this will happen, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we see more traditional ptsd symptoms from Simon in season 3. If there’s some sort of legal action against August that would signify a sort of “end” of the video trauma, and would also probably be re-traumatizing in a lot of ways. I also think interacting directly with the royal family might stir up some things as well.
Ok, now I’m going to totally switch gears and approach your question from a writing perspective. Let’s talk about story structure for a minute, specifically TV story structure. Most TV has an A plot and a B plot (and sometimes a C plot too). In old school cable procedurals, the A plot would be the mystery of the week, while the B plot would be about whatever was happening in the characters’ personal lives. If there was an overarching mystery or storyline that tied the whole season together, that would be the C plot. As you can guess by how they’re named, the A Plot would take up the most time and do the most to drive  the episode forward. The B plot is next most important, etc. Once shows started to become more serialized in the age of streaming, the concept of A and B plots changed a little bit. Now the plots are divided by character and theme. The A plot will be headlined by the protagonist and will explore the main themes of the show. The B plot will be headlined by a secondary protagonist, who doesn’t have as much to do as the A plot lead, but is still answering a dramatic question that relates to the central themes of the show. A lot of times the primary and secondary protagonists’ actions influence each other, but they don’t share a ton of screen time. (If they did, their stories wouldn’t be separate.) You can think of the A and B plot protagonists as two sides of the same coin. They’re intricately connected, they’re exploring the same ideas, but they rarely come face to face, and they often represent different perspectives on the same themes. Black Sails is probably my favorite example of this. (I’m not as active in the Black Sails fandom as I am in the Young Royals fandom, but Black Sails is probably my all time favorite show and I absolutely love all the ungovernable pirates over in the Black Sails tag. Shout out to them). James Flint is the main protagonist and headliner of the A story, but Max is the secondary protagonist that headlines the B story. Both are struggling with the question of how to achieve and wield power in an unjust world, and their political maneuvers consistently influence each other’s plots. They share a lot of secondary characters across both of their plots, but they themselves never interact. So that’s one example, and if you look around at your favorite shows you’ll be able to find lots that adhere to this formula, including, I would say, Young Royals.
I think a lot of people are kind of subconsciously looking for this kind of structure, and have decided that Simon is the protagonist of the B plot. I understand this, because we all love Simon. He’s really well written and acted, his personality is so compelling, and his chemistry with Wilhelm is great. I spend a lot of time writing him in fic (I’m the writer of all the Simon content in Heart and Homeland) so I understand this impulse. But if you were looking for Simon to be anchoring the B plot in season 2, you might have been disappointed. Because in reality I don’t think he’s the secondary protagonist. I think Sara is. 
Sara is set up as a foil to Wilhelm, the main protagonist, in so many ways. I always say that the driving dramatic question of Young Royals lives with Wilhelm, and it’s something along the lines of “should I conform and live the oppressive life that was designed for me, or rebel and find my own path to happiness?” Sara is wrestling with a similar question that’s kind of the inverse of this; for her settling into a prescribed role in the Hillerska class system initially seems like a relief. So maybe for her the dramatic question is something along the lines of “is the price of fitting in worth it? Will it lead to true happiness?” They feel so much like opposite sides of the same coin to me. 
So Sara and Wilhelm are both trying to define themselves in relation to their families and also the class system. This comes up in the similarities of their family structure (they both feel very connected to their class position through their families; they both have complicated relationships with their mothers and bad to negligible relationships with their fathers; they both have a deep connection to their siblings) and in the relationships they choose to embark upon. They’re both navigating a very serious and complicated first love. They’re both dating across class (in the opposite direction, a perfect example of the “different views on the same theme” aspect of primary and secondary protagonists). They both have concerns about how and when their relationships become public, and by extension are both playing in the sandbox of themes around privacy and authenticity that define so much of the show.  
Both have difficulty regulating and recognizing their emotions. Sara seems to exhibit alexithymia, a common aspect of autism that makes it hard to recognize one's own emotions. Wilhelm has been taught to repress his emotions, which he does well until he explodes (like when he got into the fight at the top of the series or when he yells at his mom on the phone). He’s also managing a lot of physical symptoms of anxiety. 
Both also struggle with questions of justice and how to make things right. In the beginning of season 2, Wilhelm is initially determined to destroy August because he thinks August will never repent, but by the end of the season he’s starting to realize that this was the wrong technique. He realizes this largely because of Simon; he only puts down the gun and walks away from August because Simon does first.  Sara makes the opposite journey: she starts by trusting that August will change and repent on his own, but then she is forced to confront the fact that this is not true, and that she needs to use the legal system to bring August to justice. She makes this realization largely because of Simon, and seeing the ways that she has hurt Simon, in the same scene with the gun. 
The other big argument in support of Sara as the secondary protagonist of the show is that she and Wilhelm never directly interact. Their actions affect each other all the time, but they don’t share a scene together. They’re living on parallel but separate story tracks. 
Simon is a crucial character in both Wilhelm and Sara’s stories, but the fact that he is close with both excludes him from being a protagonist of his own plot line. (I would say the same about August, who is a catalyst for both Wilhelm and Sara.) That doesn’t mean that Simon isn’t well written. He has a very compelling character arc, motivates much of the plot, and his relationship with Wilhelm forms the heart of the show. But I think the reason people were disappointed in his story in season 2 is that they were expecting something from him that the structure of the show doesn’t support.  
If you’re interested in reading more about A/B/C plot structures I found this website really easy to understand. Also shout out to @bluedalahorse for talking to me about Wilhelm and Sara and helping me articulate what I was trying to say here. 
Thanks again for the ask, anon and for the vote of confidence in my analysis! I really appreciate it. If anyone else has a Young Royals scene or question they want me to break down from a writing or cinematography perspective, my ask box is always open.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year
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sunflower, chapter twelve
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summary: a tale of the first day back after Spencer got shot
warnings: references to 2x15, 5x01, 9x23 and 9x24, injured Spencer, talk of trauma, talk of addiction, anxiety, allusion to being hyper focused
word count: 1301
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The first morning after he came back, the two of you slept in. Or Spencer did actually wake up at his usual early time, but you’d just crawled further into him, successfully lulling him back to sleep.
When 11 came around, you were both wide awake, lying there, cuddling as carefully as you could. Spencer was very insistent on having you pressed up against him, even with you protesting about accidentally hurting him, he wouldn’t let you out of his grasp.
That morning he told you everything that had happened. From the details about the case, to the shooting, to Garcia saving his life. You remembered her. That sweet, colourful lady had saved Spencer’s life? She was the reason he was in your arms at this very moment. You cried a lot, of course. Both of you did, trying to process the shock of it all. But he did his best to reassure you that it was okay. Even if you didn’t fully believe him, he still tried.
Later, when you were chatting about how the healing process was gonna go, he casually just mentioned the fact that he had been shot before and your eyebrows shot up.
“You have what?!” you shouted in disbelief, sitting straight up in the bed.
“Yeah,” he shrugged.
“When? Where?”
“About 4 years and 276 days ago. The case that it happened during was here in Virginia.”
“No, not where in the country, where on your body!”
“Oh, my left knee.”
Reaching down, you yanked his pant leg up revealing, sure enough, a pale scar. Tracing it with your pointer finger, you asked, still completely stunned, “how did I not know about this?”
“I don’t know, but then again I don’t know about all of your scars either.”
“Well, I think there is a big difference between my unimpressive collection of scars, all acquired during my childhood, compared to a fucking bullet wound. Why would I tell you the dramatic tale of me falling off a swing at the ripe old age of 6?”
“You fell off a swing?” he asked, generally concerned.
Looking down, ignoring his question, “I mean, I know that you work for the FBI, but for some reason, this didn’t occur to me as a possibility of what could happen to you out there.”
Interlocking his fingers with yours, “if it helps, it’s not that often that I go out into the field.”
“Well, it’s clearly often enough!”
“Y/n, look at me,” his thumb danced over yours.
Meeting his eyes, he continued slowly, making sure you absorbed every single word, “I am right here. I’m alive. And yes, I might be a little banged up right now, but that will heal, I’ll get better in no time. I know that the reality of my job is scary but trust me when I say that I’ll do everything in my power to get back in one piece to you. I love you, Y/n. I would do anything for you.”
Sniffling, you whispered, “I love you too.”
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The sun had now set, and Spencer had just woken up from his third nap. Keeping his eyes closed, he took long deep breaths.
“How are you?” you asked, timidly.
“Fine,” he replied, a little too fast to be convincing.
“Do you need any painkillers? I don’t think I’ve seen you take any today,” you added, “are they still in your bag?” already on your way out to search for them.
“No thanks, I-, um, no.”
“Spencer, I can see how much pain you’re in right now, you clearly need to take something.”
“No, I don’t need any, I’m fine, can you just drop it?”
“Oh, I-, I’m sorry. I just can go if you want me to?”
“No, Y/n, that’s not what I meant. I just really don’t wanna take any narcotics.”
“Spencer, you’re healing from a gunshot wound, do you really think it’s smart not to take anything for the pain?”
Snapping his eyes open, he stared you down, “Y/n, I’m not gonna take anything. Now stop.”
Chewing on your bottom lip in order to fight the tears that you could feel coming on, you stammered, “I’m sorry if I-, I’m sorry.”
Sighing deeply, he reached a hand out for you to come near, “don’t be sorry, I-… Y/n, 7 years ago I was kidnapped by this man, Tobias Hankel. He had multiple personalities and he drugged and tortured me. I, um… Tobias, he saved my life… gave me CPR…” keeping his head down, struggling with the words, “a-after that, I had a problem, with Dilaudid, still do, that never really went away… but I’ve been clean for many years now.”
Keeping quiet, you didn’t know how to respond. “Spencer, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I blabbered on about painkillers, god I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry that happened to you. I wish I could take that away, make it disappear.” Scrambling, trying to find something, anything that could make this just a little bit better, “what can I do? What do need?”
Closing his eyes again, he breathed out, “I don’t know.”
Standing up, you attempted, “okay, what’s your favourite food?”
Chuckling lightly, he replied, “jello, why?”
“I’m gonna go get you some.”
“You are?” he opened his eyes again.
“Yes.”
Knowing you too well, he hesitated, “you really don’t have to-,”
“Spencer, please just let me, I feel absolutely terrible. Can I just do this one thing for you?” you pleated.
Waiting a moment, he agreed slowly, “alright. If you want to, but you really don’t have to.”
Already halfway out the door, “I know, I want to.”
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You never really left your apartment. Well, you went to go talk to Anna, but you didn’t really do much else outside your home. It’s not that you couldn’t, it’s just that there were much more important things for you to use your energy on. There were so many things out there that added up and made the whole experience just be too overwhelming, and the aftermath ruined your ability to get anything else done, so most of the time, you stayed inside. That worked. Stevie helped you buy groceries, and honestly, you’d perfected the art of whipping up something edible out of next to nothing.
So going down to the store, at night, was… a lot.
But it actually went surprisingly alright. Or well, alright considering. You were so hyper-focused on the task at hand that it wasn’t that bad. Needless to say, you did stand in the hallway for a good 14 minutes before entering the apartment once more, taking the time to just breathe and let your body react to the chaos of the world. You didn’t want Spencer to see, not tonight, he already had enough on his plate.
Once you felt ready, you flapped and shook your hands a bit to rid yourself of the rest and walked through the door. Heading straight into the kitchen, you procured a spoon and ventured forth into the bedroom.
“I didn’t know what flavour your favourite was,” holing up the crackling plastic bag, “so I just got a bit of everything.”
With a look of utter awe, he muttered, “you got me jello? God, you’re an angel.”
Setting the full bag down at the end of the bed, you pulled a few of the small plastic cups out, “so what do you want? I’ve got strawberry, lemon, green apple, cherry, um, I think there’s a single raspberry one somewhere in here…”
“They all sound great,” he smiled.
“Cherry it is then,” handing him the little container and the spoon you’d procured, “here you are, good sir.”
Grabbing a hold of your hand as he took the items from you, he beamed, “I love you. Thank you for taking care of me. “
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2nd2ndalto · 1 year
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I Love the Way You Come to Me
Written for @writers-choice prompt "kink in neck". Title is from the Blue Rodeo song Head Over Heels.
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Nico turns from where he’s been unsuccessfully matching freshly laundered socks to the sound of his cabin door opening. His boyfriend collapses onto the bed nearest the door.
“Hey Solace. What’s up?”
“I have a crick. In my neck,” Will announces in the same tone you might expect someone to disclose a terminal diagnosis.
“A what?” Nico drops a sock and swears under his breath.
“A crick. You know. A kink.” Will repeats.
Nico raises an eyebrow, grinning. “A kink. Tell me more.”
Will scowls at him.
Will looks… kind of awful, actually. His eyes are puffy and tired and Nico’s pretty sure he hasn’t even attempted to comb his hair. He’s got a hot water bottle pressed to his shoulder and some kind of fuzzy pink pillow around his neck. When he shifts himself on the bed, he does it very gingerly.
“So why aren’t you in the infirmary?” Nico asks, shoving the rest of the clean socks into his drawer unmatched and attempting to force the drawer closed. It bounces back at him.
There’s a pause and then, “It doesn’t matter,” Will says, averting his eyes.
“It doesn’t… what the fuck, Solace. What’s going on? Why are you acting weird?”
Nico gives the dresser drawer one last shove before giving it up as a bad job. He takes a tentative step towards his boyfriend. He’s helped Will out in the infirmary quite a bit over the past four years, ever since Gaea, but he still feels a little awkward around illnesses and injuries. It’s much easier when he has Will bossing him around, although he’s certainly not going to tell Will that.
“It was made very clear to me that I wasn’t welcome in the infirmary,” Will says stiffly.
“What? Why?”
Will mutters something under his breath.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”
Will throws a hand dramatically (yet gingerly) over his eyes and repeats, only a little louder, “Kayla said I was being a big baby.”
When Nico doesn’t respond right away, Will pulls his hand back a fraction to see his boyfriend fighting a smile.
“What?” Will asks flatly.
“Well, were you?”
“That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is, though.” Nico’s pretty sure now that Will isn’t grievously injured, but even so, he sits down extra carefully on the bed next to him.
“What can I do for you?” Nico asks, trying not to sound condescending. He thinks he manages. Mostly.
“Nothing. It’s fine. You can just leave me to my misery like everyone else,” Will pouts.
“Come on, what do you need? Morphine? Chicken soup? I can help you write your last will and testament.”
Will huffs.
“Want me to summon a zombie chiropractor?”
“What, really?” Will blinks.
Nico considers. “I mean, I don’t know any personally. But we could ask Jules-Albert.”
Will wrinkles his nose. “Let’s call that Plan B.”
“I can melt all the flesh off your bones if you want,” Nico offers. “But that’s not super… reversible. I wouldn’t really recommend it.”
Will’s mouth twitches into an almost-smile, and Nico shifts to lie down next to him, reaching for his hand. “Wanna tell me what’s really going on?” he asks, more gently.
Will sighs, looking defeated. “Archery practice ran late last night and I ended up missing dinner and then I was late for my shift at the infirmary. Then I ripped the pocket of my favourite hoodie on the fucking infirmary door and ended up eating six granola bars for dinner because Austin had eaten all the sandwiches we keep in the fridge in there. I got to bed after midnight but then I couldn’t sleep because I was pissed off about the fucking hoodie and the granola bars. This morning I woke up with this damn kin - crick. Crick in my neck. And it hurts,” he finishes pathetically.
There’s a long pause, in which Will’s gaze rests on their joined hands, his face set in a frown.
“The green hoodie?” Nico asks.
“Yeah,” Will says dejectedly.
“I like that one.”
“I know. You keep stealing it.”
Nico smiles. “Yeah.”
“My neck does hurt, but… mostly I’m just feeling crummy and grouchy,” Will says reluctantly after a moment.
“So you don’t need morphine?”
Will snorts.
“You’re having a rotten day and you want some sympathy?”
“Maybe.”
Nico shifts closer, pressing his lips to Will’s. Will sighs, squeezing his fingers. Nico takes that as a sign to kiss him a bit more. Although honestly Nico will happily take just about anything as a sign to kiss Will a bit more.
There’s quiet for a long moment, and Nico sinks pleasantly into the familiar pressure of Will’s lips warm against his, their mingled breath, Will’s eyelashes brushing his cheeks. Will tastes like cinnamon gum and coffee. Nico pulls away and Will’s eyes slowly blink open.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“You know I’m always happy to comfort you if you rip your hoodie, or even if you like… get a paper cut,” Nico tells Will.
Will looks sheepish, but pleased.
“You're always allowed to ask for comfort, okay? You don’t even need a reason. All you have to do is tell me. We all need extra attention sometimes.”
Will smiles softly. “Listen to you. When did you get so smart?”
Nico shrugs. “Maybe I’ve been listening to some smart guy.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah.” Nico brushes the hair off Will’s forehead. It’s extra messy. He kind of likes it.
“Want me to cuddle you?”
“Can you?”
“Of course. Idiot,” Nico adds affectionately. “I just gotta go train some anklebiters for an hour. After that I’m all yours. Can you wait?”
Will nods, looking happier.
Nico kisses him once more and stands, looking around for his sword.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be alternating heat and ice?” Nico asks, remembering what he’s heard Will tell campers in the infirmary. “You want me to grab an ice pack on my way back?”
“Yeah, that would be nice, actually.”
“Or I could just use my cold, dead heart,” Nico deadpans.
“I thought you gave that up.”
Nico smiles fondly at the other boy. "Yeah. I guess I did."
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the-boy-meets-evil · 1 year
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tell me how it got this way | ch.5
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pairing: jungkook x f.reader, hoseok x f.reader genre: fwb to lovers/friends to lovers, love triangle | angst, smut, fluff | non-idol!au chapter rating: mature, minors dni warnings: drinking, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), jimin is a little shit (affectionate), swearing, i think that's it word count: ~6k a/n: other idols pop up in this chapter (ateez & seventeen), they're really just used as names. ages aren't relevant and you can assume they're all generally around the same age. the final part (at least for what i have planned) is also finished and i'm going to post that next week! prev | masterlist | next
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When Namjoon had initially pitched the idea of selling the movie rights for your books, your answer was immediate. No. Movies rarely, actually, came out as good as the books and you felt like you lost so much of the finer detail. If you had wanted to see your work on the big screen, you would be writing screenplays instead of full-length novels. Which, okay, that sounded pretentious even in your head, but whatever. Namjoon got the picture and the conversation was tabled temporarily.
About two months after that, Namjoon had found what he called a compromise. You weren’t sure how it was a compromise since it was your work and you didn’t want to sell the rights. Until Namjoon reminded you that the publishing company also had a stake. Point: Namjoon. It was a good point, though, because a streaming service wanted to pick up the rights to just the first book as a test and do a limited-run series as opposed to a movie. Namjoon was very clear on the differences here. The budget, in some ways, would definitely be smaller, you aren’t looking at big superstar names, and, most importantly, you have to either sign on as a co-writer for the screenplays or fully sign the rights over. They were fine with either option, they just knew that there wasn’t enough in your book for the standard 8-10 episodes.
And that answer was just as immediate. Yes. These were the kinds of chances that authors hoped for. Yes, it will still be different from the book. This just gives you much more leeway to include the important details and even flush characters out more in a way that’s just too much for a book. You’re not Stephen King over here releasing his “unedited” version of The Stand, which, if you’re being honest, was kind of (read: insanely) self-indulgent. Not that you’re comparing yourself to Stephen King, either. To each their own and all that.
So, with Namjoon’s guidance, you signed a deal where you’d co-write the episodes with a team who actually have a lot of experience doing just that. Really, you know you’re just there to keep everything true to the world that’s lived in your head for years. That’s why they want you. Some people will stumble onto this show never having heard of the books (and Namjoon hopes it’ll make them buy a copy), but others will tune in expecting it to come off the same way they’ve been imagining, for characters to make decisions that feel authentic. 
You actually kind of loved the writing sessions. It was really amazing to see how things came together and to be in a room where you didn’t need to shout to be heard. Everyone there was genuinely interested in your feedback, and you tried to be conscious of when to just let the process unfold. It was collaborative in the best way. The only hard thing was keeping it all under wraps from almost everyone. The whole team had decided that they wouldn’t announce the news until the rough copies of the scripts were finished enough to move on to casting.
Now, that you’re having to sit through casting auditions, you’re rethinking your entire life that has led to this moment. No, that is not dramatic. You gave the casting team literal pages on pages for every character that needed to have any sort of significant role in the show and had even worked with someone for fucking *mood boards* for the main characters. There were days when you barely slept because you had to churn things out for casting. All so you could turn the rough scripts into final copies. What else did they want from you? 
To sit through casting calls, apparently. So fine. You can eat craft services with the best of them.
After a few days, you do start to see the point in it all, see the times when the casting team liked two people for a particular part and looked to you as the deciding factor. While it felt like a lot of pressure, it also allowed you to make sure everything felt right. It was never just about physical appearance, that was always fluid. You also didn’t want Kristen Stewart in the Twilight movies with one damn expression the entire time. (No shade to Kristen Stewart, it just wasn’t anyone’s best look in those movies).
The one positive is that you’ve managed to meet a few people you actually kind of like. And, okay, yeah, they’re mostly assistants to some of the more important people in the process, but those people are stuffy and very unlikely to gossip with you around the water cooler. Since you’ve never had a normal office job, this is a very important part of actually getting to work with people. Namjoon scoffs a lot at this, says that it’s probably good that you haven’t had a normal office job. He spends a lot of time letting you know actual office jobs aren’t anything like sitcoms, which is funny considering the office where he works. Maybe he doesn’t gossip around the water cooler, but you’ve definitely seen the assistants gathering. Even heard his name come up a time or two. Heard how attractive they all seem to think he is. They’re not wrong.
Your new friends are also the type of people who insist that you absolutely have to join them when they decide happy hour is the perfect way to end the day. As San points out, you have the morning off tomorrow anyway. When you ask why it would matter if it was just happy hour, Wooyoung promptly elbows San hard in the ribs and says it doesn’t. You don’t miss the conspiratorial look on their faces, but fuck it. Happy hour sounds good.
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Your head is pounding and it feels like you got hit by a freight train. You don’t even remember getting that drunk the night before. The whole evening is kind of a blur of shots and bright lights and off-key karaoke. It was just supposed to be happy hour, which you learned quickly was your first mistake. There was no such thing as just happy hour with San, Wooyoung, and their insanely chaotic group of friends. And as the sleep is wearing off, something else creeps in. There is an arm draped over you. You’re not alone in your bed. Peeking one eye open, you’re immediately struck with the fact that these aren’t your walls, not your sheets, this isn’t your bed. You’re praying on everything that you don’t believe in that the arm belongs to one of the other people you’d gone out with the night before. You remember thinking one of Wooyoung’s friends was cute and tall and smiley, a little flirty and a little shy too. And then you see the hands. And the rings. With a careful glance back, you confirm it’s Hoseok, shirtless (you don’t need to check if it’s wearing anything else).
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It’s rushing back. You quickly learned San and Wooyoung had no intention of letting you go after just happy hour. They were all convinced you were too stressed and that what you really needed was a patented WooSan (yes, they had a couple name, despite not actually being in a relationship) night of fun. You briefly considered protesting, but really, what was the point? And fuck, they weren’t wrong.
So happy hour turned into multiple stops. Wooyoung was on a karaoke mission and although you had never heard him sing, you instinctively thought drunken karaoke was never a good idea. (You were wrong, he had the voice of an angel to match his personality of the devil.) Karaoke meant meeting up with more of their friends. And somehow, because fate was cruel, one of their friends had brought along his friend Hoseok. You remember staring at him like a deer in headlights before declaring everything was fine and hitting the shots. There also may have been a lot of flirting with Wooyoung’s tall friend with the shy smile whose name you couldn’t remember.
Now, in the light of day, it was not fine. You gingerly slide out from underneath his arm and carefully get out of the bed, tiptoeing over to what you can only hope and assume is a bathroom, phone snatched off the nightstand on the way. You’re thanking drunk you for not making it harder to find.
Once you’re in the safety of the bathroom, you sink down to the floor and take a couple of breaths. You’re not sure if it’s the hangover rearing its ugly head or just the situation you’ve found yourself in.
You: Yoongi are you up? You: Please be up, I need you! You: This is important! Like one of those most important things in the world.
Yoongi isn’t answering and you’re starting to panic. You need someone to talk you through this. So you call him, knowing that it might get his attention. The first call goes to voicemail and so you try again. This time after the second ring you hear him grunt a frustrated “what?” and then hang up.
Yoongi: What the fuck? You call twice and hang up on me? You: Because I need you
Missed call from Yoongi
Yoongi: Then answer the fucking phone You: I *can’t* You: Yoongi, I fucked up, like really fucked up Yoongi: What’s going on? You: I went out drinking last night and ugh I did something really fucking stupid Yoongi: Whatever it is, it’s not that serious You: I just woke up next to Hobi… You: Like I’m in fucking university again Yoongi: … Yoongi: I’m going back to bed, you’re being dramatic You: I’m *not* this is SERIOUS Yoongi: It’s not that serious You: I’ve spent 5 years trying to get over the way he treated me, so yeah it’s a big deal Yoongi: it’s just drunken sex and I’m tired You: oh my god, give the phone to Jimin Yoongi: Just text him You: Yoongi, please
You stare at the phone and try to figure out what else to say when the screen lights up again.
Yoongi: I have a very grumpy boyfriend You: Jimin, thank god Yoongi (Jimin): what is it my little problem child? You: Just read up Yoongi (Jimin): You bitch, you went out and got drunk and didn’t invite me? You: Jimin can we focus please? Yoongi (Jimin): Who did you go out with? You: Is this really the time? Yoongi (Jimin): I’m waiting You: Fuck Jimin, just some people that are working on the show You: Now can we please talk about this colossal mistake? Yoongi (Jimin): I’ll be there to pick you up and take your hungover ass to get breakfast, which is more than you deserve since you went out WITHOUT ME You: Thank you and I will never go out without inviting you again Yoongi (Jimin): Better
You’ve taken way too long in the bathroom and you know there’s a chance Hoseok will be awake now. But you can’t bring yourself to leave the bathroom until you get the text from Jimin that he’s downstairs. Bless him for being an absolute angel, even when it’s his horns keeping the halo upright. 
Despite being a colossal pain in the ass about nearly everything in life, Jimin does actually come through and take you to one of the best meals you’ve ever had. Or maybe you’re just that hungover. You don’t really know. He’s also somehow managed to bring you a change of clothes (which, you’re not really sure if they’re actually yours or where they came from, but the outfit looks remarkably put together) and makeup so you don’t have to go all the way home. You try to ask why he’s so prepared and he only gives a vague answer about how you didn’t know him before Yoongi and smirks. You’re immediately filing that away for another day when you do remember to invite Jimin out to drink with you and whatever group you’ve been dragged into. 
When Jimin drops you off at the studio (another point to Jimin) where your car is still conveniently parked from the night before, you’re feeling and looking significantly more human. You know you owe him, he doesn’t have to say it. But he’s Park Jimin so he says it anyway and you just smile.
The auditions feel a little less tedious with a stomach full of greasy food the day after a much-needed night out (where you will be pretending that you did not fuck Hoseok again). You’re looking for some more minor characters today. If things go well and you end up doing a second season based on the second book, they could play a much bigger role. For now, though, it’s still small.
Realistically, you’re not hungry because Jimin really did hook you up. Then again, the food is there and it’s free, so you’re looking over to decide what you might actually want to try. Someone approaches the other side of the table, looking tentative. You immediately recognize him as one of the guys you pointed out as fitting the right look for one of your characters. He was sweet, kind of endearing, but with really striking features.
“Hey, I just wanted to introduce myself,” he says and you look up. “I’m Chan.”
“I remember,” you say and you’re being honest. You were insistent that he be kept around to audition.
“Wow, I didn’t think…well that’s great. I’m excited to get the chance. Thank you so much,” Chan says and you realize this might be a big deal for him.
“No problem, you just remind me of him,” you say.
“I was talking to my dance teacher before the first audition,” Chan starts and you raise an eyebrow. “Oh, I know this isn’t a dancing part, I just like to take the classes.”
“That’s fair,” you say.
“And I was really worried about the audition and how it would go,” Chan says. “But my dance teacher, he’s awesome, he said he had gone to school with you and used to be friends with you and all that and that you were really nice.”
That one statement brought you up completely short. What the fuck?
“Who’s your dance teacher?” You already know the answer because really, who else could it be? Still, you need to hear him say it.
“Oh, Jung Hoseok,” Chan says quickly and you force a smile. “Do you remember him? He gave me all this great advice about the audition and said he’d try to reach out to you if it made me feel better. He’s so nice.”
“Yeah, he was. It’s been ages since I’ve spoken to him though,” you say, hoping that you succeed in the attempt at nonchalance. 
“Yeah, he said that. I think he was just trying to help me feel better, offering to reach out,” Chan agrees. “I get it though. You’ve had so much success as a writer, so it makes sense you wouldn’t still talk to everyone from college. It’s so cool they’re turning your book into a series and you’re so young!”
“I feel like I’ve been writing for like 20 years with how much it ages me sometimes,” you say to distract yourself from thinking of Hoseok.
“I actually…read all the books when they came out, I’m a big fan,” Chan says and blushes like it’s embarrassing to admit. You think it’s sweet. One of the PAs calls out for you, though.
“Good luck today, Chan. It’s been really great speaking to you,” you say and excuse yourself.
Honestly, you can’t believe the audacity of fucking Jung Hoseok to say what he had to this poor kid. Playing it off like he knows you, making it seem like you just used to be friends. And what was he thinking, offering to reach out to you on behalf of this kid?
That’s when a truly sickening thought settles into your brain. Takes root in a way that you know you can’t shake it. One of those intrusive thoughts that shouldn’t ever exist. Was that what this all was? Is this why he reached out? Does he just want to help one of his dancers get a role in your new series? That would be seriously fucked up if that was the case. And you hate thinking he could be capable of something like that. The reality is that you used to know Hoseok, while the guy who wrecked you was a complete stranger and there’s no way of knowing which one had shown up now.
The rest of the day is kind of a wash from a concentration standpoint. You’re a million miles away and thankfully, nobody seems to call you on it. You’re not sure if it’s because they’ve worked with writers before that had their heads in the clouds or because you’re still answering all the questions asked of you. Either way, you’re not really there at all. 
Over the next day or so, you decide the best way forward is to continue ignoring Hoseok (despite him texting you multiple times wanting to talk about what happened after karaoke). Instead of talking to Hoseok, you do the completely rational thing and talk to every other person you trust. How can you decide on the next move without multiple opinions? 
You can’t.
Yoongi is first up and he’s exceptionally grumpy since you woke him up before he was ready to be a person. It may not have been that early by normal human standards, but Yoongi is only part human and part gremlin, you think, so he’s never really followed normal hours. Once he’s done being grumpy, he takes his time being thoughtful. As far as he sees it, this was just some drunken sex. It isn’t like Hoseok actually asked for anything, that you remember. And you insist you remember everything from the night.  For all you know, it was just stress relief for both of you. No point in getting worked up.
Since Jimin is there and incapable of being ignored, he also gets to weigh in. Which is welcome, actually, because Jimin can be really calculating when he wants to be. He asks a lot of questions, both about the guy you were friends with and the fight that ended it all. You’re just about ready to call this conversation a day when Jimin says he doesn’t think it sounds like something malicious. There’s only one way to know for sure, though, and he suggests that you just talk to Hoseok like an adult with multiple published books and a streaming deal. There’s Park Jimin for you.
Part of you wants to ask Namjoon, but thinks better of it. The Affair incident is fresh in your mind and you really don’t need to give him another reason to question your sanity. There are enough of those just in everyday life. And you just had to relive the entire fight with Jimin so you’re not too eager to explain all the backstory to Namjoon.
Which makes the final person you ask Jungkook. His opinion is so incredibly important to you, yet it’s the one that you’re least excited about getting. It means you also have to tell him about sleeping with Hoseok, a fact that you have carefully avoided. Not that you owe Jungkook every detail of your life, because you’re not actually in a relationship. It’s just that, sometimes, with how much you depend on each other, it feels like something more. Feels like it’s much more than just some friends-with-benefits type situation. 
In true Jungkook fashion, he takes the news in stride and doesn’t linger on you fucking this stranger that reappeared at the Gala and hasn’t seemed to go away since then. He’s thoughtful, Hoseok has come up a lot in your conversations lately, so he doesn’t have to ask questions like Jimin. And you tell him how frustrating it was to answer them, anyway. There’s no escaping it when Jungkook comes to the same conclusion, though. 
“Just talk to him,” Jungkook urges, “you’ll feel so much better being able to gauge his answer.”
“I’m really sorry,” you say and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at that. 
“For what?” he asks.
“Getting drunk and making a stupid fucking mistake by fucking him,” you answer, avoiding his eyes. 
“It’s really not a big deal for you and me,” Jungkook says.
“Are you sure?” you ask. You hate how small your voice sounds.
Jungkook closes the space between you and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sure. I’m here for whatever you need.”
This brings you to texting Hoseok.
And that brings you to sit down in a coffee shop with him, because apparently you can’t just text or go to each other’s apartment, like normal people. Which is nice too, actually, because it gives you a chance to see more of the city than just your apartment or the studio where you’ve been working. It allows you to people watch, see those rushing by in a haze mingled with those taking their time. Let’s your overactive imagination come up with a story for each of them. 
You still aren’t even sure if you want to forgive Hoseok for everything that happened all those years ago. And with all the writing sessions and casting calls, you haven’t exactly had a lot of time to even think, let alone talk to anyone outside of your small circle. Which isn’t totally out of character, you’ve never been one for a huge circle of friends or social engagements. It just makes everything a little more complicated now as you’re trying to sort out feelings. 
Hoseok beat you to the coffee shop this time, seemingly by a bit since he’s going to get his second cup just after you sit down. You spare a passing thought that maybe he’s nervous about talking to you. He certainly seems like he is. Weirdly it makes you less nervous. It makes you feel somehow more in control of the situation because you do know what you want to say.
“So,” Hoseok begins after he sits back down, “about the other night…”
“Actually, that isn’t exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” you say, watching his eyes go wide.
“What?” he stutters out.
“I mean, I guess it’s kind of related? But also not,” you say. “I met Lee Chan at a casting call the other day.”
Whatever Hoseok was expecting, it’s not this. He tries to connect the dots for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Okay? He’s a great kid, I’m glad he decided to go to the auditions after all.”
“That’s it?” You’re watching him for a reaction that just isn’t there. Maybe, despite The Fight, he’s still more or less the person you were friends with.
“I’m not sure what else to say about him,” Hoseok admits.
“Okay, cards on the table,” you say with a confidence you don’t entirely feel. “Did you show back up in my life to help your student get a part in my series?”
Hoseok chokes on his drink when the question comes out, turns into a coughing mess and takes a minute to clear his throat. “What the fuck? Is that what you think? Come on, you know me…”
“I don’t though, do I? Not anymore,” you disagree and there’s finally an emotion on his face that you can place: hurt. He’s hurt and you’re not sure how to feel about that. Your feelings about him are still so mixed up. A big part of you wants to comfort him, though. Which isn’t exactly the response you’d expected.
“Maybe I deserve that, but it still hurts,” Hoseok says. You chew your bottom lip while you think.
“It hurt to have the thought it was possible too, trust me,” you say. “But it was weird timing, you know? Chan introduced himself during his second audition, later the same day I woke up in your bed.”
“I would never sleep with you to help a student get something out of it,” Hoseok says earnestly. “I’d never sleep with you to get anything out of it.”
“I want to believe that,” you admit.
“I had no idea that you’d be there. Another guy from the studio who teaches but also takes my master classes is friends with your friends that invited you out. He asked if I wanted to come out, I wasn’t busy, so I figured why not?” Hoseok explains. “And then I wake up and you’re gone.”
“Hoseok,” you say, a quiet warning.
“Actually, I wake up and you’re sneaking out without saying anything,” he amends. 
“I needed to not be there,” you say because it’s all you can say.
“I get that, I know you’re seeing someone, but we needed to talk about it,” Hoseok says.
“Yeah, Jungkook knows,” you say and feel your heart constrict a bit at the way Hoseok pales.
“What?” Hoseok asks. When you don’t say anything, he continues. “Please tell me you’re kidding, he looks like he could kick my ass and barely break a sweat.”
“He would never,” you disagree. “My…relationship, if you wanna call it that, with Jungkook isn’t exactly what you think? Like he’s not my boyfriend, we’re not exclusive or anything like that.”
“But you let me think you were?” He doesn’t look upset, just confused if anything.
“Yeah, I know,” you say and he’s still watching you carefully. “It was just easier and honestly, I didn’t feel like I owed you an explanation for my personal life after all these years.”
“I - yeah, okay, I guess I have to respect that,” Hoseok agrees. “But we still need to talk.”
“I’m not ready,” you say immediately, try not to feel anything when he deflates. 
“I guess I just thought…since you asked to meet me,” Hoseok says, trailing off.
“I needed to know if you really just did that for a student,” you offer.
“You believe that I didn’t, right? That I wouldn’t?” Hoseok asks with so much hope that you’re not sure you can take it.
“I do, yeah,” you say. You’ve barely had time to process, but you know you do believe he wouldn’t do that. It’s about all you know when it comes to him now.
“I really do need you to know how sorry I am,” Hoseok says and you start to open your mouth, but he’s quicker. “Please, you don’t have to say anything, just let me say this? Please?”
He looks so much younger, so vulnerable for a moment. All you do is nod.
“I know sorry isn’t what you need to hear, I get that. I know that I can’t go back and change that fight and all the fucking stupid shit that I said. Stuff that I didn’t mean. And I do hear you that you’re not ready. I just want you to know that I’m so sorry,” Hoseok says.
You let out your breath. “I do know that Hobi, at least on some level.” 
“I’ve, well I’ve done a lot of thinking about that day. I talked to a lot of people, both friends and a therapist, actually. There aren’t any excuses for what I did, no matter what was going on in my head. If I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s definitely that. So I want to make sure you know that when you are ready, if you’re ever ready, I won’t make any excuses. What happened was entirely my fault and I completely acknowledge that,” he says, so earnestly. 
“I appreciate that,” you say because it’s all you really can think up.
This was supposed to clear your head up, which it has in some ways. You feel a little silly for even thinking that Hoseok would do something like sleep with you to help get someone he only kind of knows a role in a TV series. And you’re also questioning your friends since none of them pointed out you were having a full breakdown over a man. Not your finest moment. 
But with that one, small thing cleared up, your mind immediately goes back to the bigger issue: Hoseok has reappeared in your life and you really need to figure out how you feel about that. You’ve missed him, of course. You’re not going to deny that very obvious truth. On top of that, you also very clearly have some sort of feelings for him. After all, you’re not stupid college kids anymore. It’s not like you can pretend the sex was meaningless. 
Hoseok, showing some definite growth from your college days, accepts it when you say that you just can’t talk about all the very real things you need to right now. Accepts it when you say that you believe him but you have to go. Accepts that you’re running late for something. The only problem is that you’re not running late. It’s not like you actually planned for after your talk with him. It was too much to even think about how the conversation was going to go.
Now it’s over, though, and you don’t really want to go home to be alone with your thoughts. One of the few times that you don’t like that you live alone. Don’t like that you don’t have a built-in person that can just be there without you having to explain what you’re feeling or that you don’t want to be alone. Which is when your brain goes to Jungkook. He’s become that person that you go to when you don’t want to be alone or when you need to get out of your own head.
Except you’re not really sure that’s fair to him. Not really sure if seeing him right now is going to help you. Since the Gala, he’s been nothing but supportive and understanding. This is too much, though, isn’t it? Sure, you and he have never really wanted to bother labeling things, both just happy with the way things are. Things have naturally kind of evolved, but you haven’t stopped to talk about any of it. Sure, Jungkook always assures you that it’s fine, that he’s happy to be there whenever you need him. 
The healthiest thing to do is go home and actually try to sort out your feelings. The second healthiest thing to do would be to call Yoongi and tell him that you actually need to talk to him (which you do, desperately, need his help). 
None of the healthy options include texting Wooyoung to see if he’s got any plans that night. The healthy ways to process definitely don’t include agreeing to go out for happy hour knowing full well what that means with Wooyoung. At least this time, you invite Jimin to avoid one disaster.
(Jimin agrees to come and agrees to your terms that he’s not allowed to ask if you’re okay or if you want to talk. Agrees that he won’t tell Yoongi even if he thinks you’re making reckless decisions. He also finds a way to tell Wooyoung’s friend not to invite Hoseok this time without outing you. When you’re sober, you’ll probably thank Jimin. Maybe. There is always his ego to consider.)
“I feel like I’ve seen you around somewhere,” San muses, looking at Jimin.
Jimin just smiles his most mischievous smile and shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Probably.”
“Jimin is one of my best friends, he’s been by the studio a few times,” you say when it’s clear Jimin isn’t going to provide any more context. He sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically.
“I’m also dating her platonic soulmate, so she’s stuck with me,” Jimin adds and you snort.
“Is that what we’re calling Yoongi these days?” you ask. Jimin smiles a real smile, eyes crinkling. 
“Honestly, yes, your friendship with him is so sweet, it makes me sick,” Jimin says with nothing but affection. 
San seems satisfied and Wooyoung just looks enamored by anything Jimin says. Which is actually kind of cute because you can tell he’s not even interested in Jimin like that, just genuinely wants to be his friend. And you definitely get that. Jimin is one of the sweetest, most charismatic people that you know. Yes, he can be a devious little shit, but when he’s like this, it’s impossible to not like him. 
That’s just kind of how the night goes. Thankfully, it’s not quite as crazy as the last time you went out with this group. You learn the tall guy’s name is Mingi and for some reason, he seems weirdly shy around you. It’s cute and he’s incredibly sweet. Jimin fits in seamlessly, which isn’t a surprise to you with how many times you’ve seen him like this. 
What is a surprise, though, is that Jimin keeps demanding you get up and dance with him. Since, of course, happy hour turned into going someplace else. It wasn’t just Jimin that wanted to dance and now you were just along for the ride. He also insisted that you were a safe choice to dance with and also gave you a sob story about how Yoongi would never dance with him at the club. 
(Probably true, crowds and people and this kind of thing were definitely not Yoongi’s first or second or even last choice. It’s also true that Jimin is a really amazing dancer and you’re a little intimidated by him. You’re also, thankfully, just buzzed enough to not really care.)
It’s the early hours of the morning when you finally head home, feeling a lot lighter than you had after leaving Hoseok. In fact, you haven’t checked your messages since meeting up with Jimin, Wooyoung, San, and the others. There’s something freeing about just putting everything on Do Not Disturb and enjoying the moment. 
By the time you get out of the car at your apartment, the alcohol haze is already wearing off. Which ends up being a good thing when you open your door to see someone sitting on your couch. There’s a half second of panic, of your brain calculating fight or flight, before you realize that it’s just Jungkook. Sitting on your couch, watching TV like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“Jesus Christ, Jungkook,” you say, hand on your chest like you’re about to die. A little overdramatic, maybe, but your brain is still a little hazy around the edges. 
“Sorry,” he says, eyes immediately going comically wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you!” 
“No, it’s fine,” you say as you toe off your shoes and drop your keys and bag on the table by the door. 
“I really am sorry,” he says. It’s easy to believe when he looks that bashful. “I don’t even know why I came over. I just, well I texted you after I got out of my shoot to see how things went and you didn’t answer.”
“Oh yeah, I went out for drinks with Jimin and some friends from the set,” you say and Jungkook nods. 
“Yeah, he actually texted me,” Jungkook admits and you just chuckle. Of course he did, you think. “But I was already on my way over here and your apartment is more comfortable than mine. I can leave though?” 
“No, it’s fine, it’s late,” you say as you collapse on the couch with him. “One rule, though.” 
“What?” he asks.
“I don’t wanna talk about the conversation with Hobi right now,” you say quietly as you nestle into Jungkook’s side.
You miss the way that he tenses for a minute at the way the old nickname falls so easily from your lips. Miss the way it takes his arms a minute to wrap around you. Miss the way his face falls a little at you not wanting to talk to him about something. 
“Of course, whatever you need,” Jungkook says. 
You don’t hear the way his voice sounds a little hollow, a little less animated than it usually does. He wants to mean it, wants to keep being there for you however you need him. It’ll be fine, he tells himself. He can do this. 
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all of them are kinda going through it right now, but please let me know your thoughts <3
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kehideni · 1 year
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Ahh right i owe a Guild Wars 2 What lies beneath post..
SO!! Good things first: the suggested topic of the following who-knows-how-many installments. I really didn’t expect Arenanet, and i’ll go further: ANY mmorpg to EVER even come close to smelling a single WIFF of the mental state their main character is in due to the things the writers and the players put them through. I think it’s a great idea, just like when they killed the commander in PoF. It was ballsy, dramatic, and payed off well. If they can repeat that i’m gonna kiss my monitor for granting me the privilege to see this with one character twice.
The jokes were funny, the animations (exspecially charr eating ramen x’‘‘D if you haven’t seen it yet, look it up. it’s so funny and adorable and real), the connections between the rag-tag team we got for ourselves now. A+
BUT!
Icebrood Saga started out great just like this, and due to poor planning and a sudden steer of the wheel we all know how that panned out. Eventhough the charr and the norn really deserved to have the sort of spotlight IBS promised. And i can’t help but be kinda salty that once again, we are human focused. (and by human spotlight... i mean...that kinda involves everything GW1... it’s nice to get stuff from the source material, but mine too deep and you end up like World of Warcraft, an incoherent mess that lacks direction and literally had to take back SIX(6) expansion’s worth of steps, to be back on square 1 again, and i find it hilarious that this is why DF is praised so much as an expansion)
Once again, nothing wrong with taking from the source material, just don’t let that be your go-to every single time. GW2 is known for reinventing ideas, i just don’t want them to stop that good habit of theirs.
Onto the regrettable stuff: this update was too short. I hope it was this short only because it’s a prologue but IBS burned me once, i’m not gonna hold out my hand twice.
Also wtf Marjory, why wasn’t i invited to the wedding? How are you on your honeymoon with Kas if i WASN’T.AT.THE.FKEN.WEDDING?! Yes i know, that’s not really a thing a player can... er... play but like a little sniplet from it would have been enough... maybe show the new character animations there? Surely the commander could have slurped ramen at their wedding... and throw confetti, and like just have a 1-2 liner with characters you wanna check up on. How is my man Rytlock doing???? You wouldn’t even need voiceacting for it, just regular ol’ chat bubbles, come AAAWWWWN
The sinfully bad:
The new lootchests are a fkin scam. Mate-y, if i do a meta event then i want my reward. When all i had to pay for keys are shitty scraps i could farm without any active farming, just doing the meta there was no problem. But to pay for keys with MATERIALS??!?! B** I’M COLLECTING THE MATERIALS FOR LEGENDARIES!!! WHY WOULD I TRADE THAT UP FOR SHITTY GREEN UNIDENTIFIED STUFF?! uuuuuuuuuuuuuugggh Anet, who thought of this?! Why didn’t you give them a cup of coffee to wake up?!
Also ambushes are fkin brutal man... i love the extra challenge but come on.. atleast give those fkers’ abilities a cooldown where i can fakkIIIN USE ANY OF MY ABILITIES!! Once again, everyone that is not a guardian is fked over.
To close it in a positive note: the male charr voiceactor was perfect, they sounded just as broken and traumatised as i wanted a big ass warrior cat to be after being put through 5 different hells and back, and dying, and then losing their dragon-jesus daughter, and PTSD, and you all know i could still go on. Can’t wait to hear Palawa Joko’s monologue echo back on us, i’m calling it now!
“The scars you have gouged into it spell out your name for ALL to see” rawest. fkin. line. in an MMO. ever!!!
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angrilymanaging · 1 year
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I watch a lot of true crime t.v. I don’t know something about watching criminals who deserve it get caught. I watch Snapped. It is very funny to me, not like Ha Ha funny, but like, I’m sure most of these women are Borderlines like me. I trip because, I get it. I was watching the one the other day, about Brynn and Phil Hartman and think to myself, why are people like that? So because I am a bisexual person I really don’t like pronouns right, because you don’t have to be a man to be a divine masculine, you can be a woman, or trans man, you don’t have to be a woman to be a divine feminine. I believe that you can be a gay man, and be divinely feminine, I don’t think Trans women can be divine feminines though. Don’t ask me what my logic is, I just I think that spiritual connection just doesn’t allow for that, there is already, I don’t know. Spirit will put that on my heart to write about at some point, but not tonight. I will just try and stay on topic, it is late, and I want to go to bed but I didn’t write…so I’m f’ckng writing. I say all that to say, I use the phrase “ni**as”to refer to all masculine entities, male or female, and also for black and white people alike.
Anyway, I was listening to how Brynn Hartman, before she was Brynn Hartman, she was a model, an aspiring actress, she was a writer, and had big dreams, of making it in Hollywood. Phil Hartman was on Saturday Night Live, he was this awesome guy, and he was just the bees knees. Brynn at the end of the day had shot him, then Killed herself. So Brynn, after all of this was labeled a druggie, they called her evil, a monster, dramatic. It was said that she would come to the set of the show, and blow up at him, argue with him, try and get him fired all kinds of stuff. The whole time, everyone keeps talking about how Phil was just this angelic being, with rainbows and sunshine coming out of his ass, when he farts. But when you talk to people close to Brynn, they described him as this person who, was emotionally closed off from his wife. The exact words were, He would come home, and “Shut her out” I watch all these episodes of snapped and they say most the same thing about every woman, how she is horrible, and a monster. I have heard these same things about myself, like, when I realized what was going on I decided I needed to really chill before I snap and kill a mutha fcka myself, these type of people, they are cunning. But everything goes to the same about the guy, you can’t find a person, who would say anything bad about the guy. Rainbow farts.
He was gentle, he was kind he would give the shirt off of his back, would do anything for anyone, and while, I believe most of these women, like I can hear the story and kind of gauge right, who is and isn’t a monster, but for the most part, I legit feel like most of these women, are borderlines and they ended up with raving narcissists. I always think about it when I think of my own circumstances, like these people do everything they can, to get you, Somehow, they go the length however long it takes, mostly not taking no for an answer, very persistent, moving through the relationship to fast, but you go along cause you’re an idiot right, and once they got you right where they want you, They make sure that they build a life for you that is difficult at the end of the day to leave… My baby dad thought he was going to stick me with a kid, My ex wife thought I wouldn’t divorce her, ever, and every b’tch I ever lived with didn’t understand how quick, rather she wanted us or not, me and my kids could go back to my moms, even this current one, chickens, a dog, the trans man friend, like ugh. They try to make life difficult for you to live without them, painting you the whole time, out to be this crazy person, this monster, and they are farting rainbows because people don’t know them, in the close and very personal way that you know them. There is a phrase right, and I don’t recall ever being asked this myself but I can only imagine, because the other words that you hear often dealing with these kinds of people are liar, manipulator… I’m talkin people men who have never even met me, never even dated me, calling me a liar, but the phrase is ; The adult asks, “ so everyone is lying, except you right?” And the kid answers “yea, because they knew you wouldn’t believe me” and if I was any kid, or adult I’m that kid, I’m that adult.
When I started dating this one, we were alone, in a room at work I was sitting down, and he was standing. I can’t remember the exact conversation but I know it wasn’t going his way. He grabbed my wrist, and was twisting it, and digging his nails in my skin. I got up and walked out, cause this is my job, and I will beat your ass in here, and saw his friend in the hallway, and didn’t know this one was on my tail, but I told the bastard friend, “like yo you better tell your boy to keep his hands to himself, the m’fer just grabbed me” and you know what that b’tch said? “Yea we don’t believe that, right, cause that’s not even the type of guy you are” I started laughing, I mean dying laughing,and without a thought, I. Said” that is funny, because that’s the type of shit, a m’fer say, right after the guy murders his wife like “ I would have never thought that he was like that, I would have never guessed he was a monster he was such a good guy” yea you would’nt know because you don’t have to live with the m’fer, you wouldn’t know because you don’t have to sleep with the b’tch, or share finances, or have a personal relationship with them. That not only goes for friends but family too, don’t say sh’t to me about I handle your family member, in this f’cking relationship, cause you never slept with them, f’ck you. I watched a TikTok vid the other day, and it blew my mind, the caption was “abusers, don’t only groom the abused. They also groom theirs and the abused persons friends, family, and the the abused persons co workers, infects this whole network with grooming, so that they don’t listen too or take seriously the abused persons complaints, or comments, basically making it impossible, for this person to seek help.” And IT IS DISGUSTING!!! How the network of narcissists, out weighs the network of support. When victims come forward, with allegations, ANY abuse or, of rape, sexual abuse, Whatever, no one, you can’t say anything to anyone about anything, because before you actually run into someone, who believes you, and can help you, you first run into other abusers, looking to abuse and traumatize you some more, because no one will ever believe you, because this network has labeled you a liar, and if that doesn’t work, your’e crazy. What is worse is that this Narcissist, because you attracted them right is probably the same type as, the parent who abused you. For instance, after I separated from my ex-wife, my father said to me, “I knew that this was going to happen, I knew that once I moved out, That girl was gonna do some bullshit” he told me he said “ listen, whatever you do, don’t get back with that lady” and I made it my business to not. I am cordial, but bitter ex I will never be, when I’m done I am done. My dad told me specifically not too, and I never asked why. Whatever secrets, she shared with him, went with him to his grave, he never told me anything, and I never asked. My mother, the person whose vagina I came from, keeps in contact with most of my ex lovers, I even have decided that I don’t go to anymore of her parties, because she invites them. When I asked why, they are just her parties and she can invite who she wants too. You’re right you can. I know how to not be bothered.
But given what I’ve read, if you have a narcissistic parent, they groom you, so that it will always be them who treats you like shit, or, a person like them that treats you like shit, and they are good friends. One will encourage you to keep around with the other, It disgusts me to even think about. I used to be a person, who couldn’t see wrong, like in anyone, until they showed me they were f’cked up, I used to have a great deal of faith in humanity, now I have none. I question everything and everyone. I especially stay away from you, if you exhibit certain personality traits, I can not f’ck with you. I don’t even wait for more flags on the play anymore, I be out on the first red flag, I’m blowing the whistle, and I forfeit the game. Because the ones like, Phil Hartman, these people that “could never hurt anybody” or “the ones who will do anything for anybody” “givin the shirt off their back” “ the people who are just to good, to be goin through it, wit a monster like me” are narcissistic abusers behind closed doors, and I no longer want any parts. Period. They either like to cheat, or communicate with their ex’s or, keep in touch with their pasts, but don’t want to leave you right? Or if they don’t cheat, they are cold hearted, emotionally void people. Either way, I have no desire for my own episode of snapped. It’s the physical bars I can’t do.
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dragonsareourfuture · 3 years
Text
Ways the Death Note Cast Show They Trust You
I lost some inspiration towards the middle there, I’m sorry!!
L
- he will always have Watari make extra servings of food just for you. It’s a bit startling at first. So suddenly there’s just food in front of you that you think is for L, but when you push it towards him, he pushes it right back to you.
“You don’t want it?” He’d ask, leaving you confused until you finally put the pieces together.
“Oh, I…I guess I didn’t realize it was for me. My bad.” You begin eating. “Thank you.”
L simply hums and continues with whatever he was just up to.
- You know that thing cats do where they’re sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, guard slightly down, but still not quite asleep? I can picture L doing something like this during any moment of downtime he gets. Just sitting, scrunched up in his chair or wherever he happens to be, eyes closed but the cogs in his brain are still turning. You notice him doing this when it is only you and him in the room, simply thinking it’s because of the moment of rare solitude. Little do you know, it’s because he trusts that you won’t hurt him or let anything bad happen to him.
- L is a person who prefers to be in charge of his own life. He likes knowing what’s going on around him at all times and when things are out of his hands he can’t help but feel uncomfortable. However, with a person he’s developed a close relationship with and knows he can trust with everything he has, L will feel more comfortable leaving decisions up to them. You’ll have to start small though, like being the one to plan a surprise date. He might feel a bit uncomfy at the beginning, shifting around and possibly even insisting he sit so that he can see the exits clearly, but he eases into it eventually. Soon you both find yourselves joking around in the odd way that you do and gorging on cake and ice cream.
Mello
- being vulnerable is something Mello isn’t too keen on. He already feels vulnerable most of the time and would kick himself if he let that show through his actions. If Mello truly trusts you, he will feel as though he can be vulnerable around you without any judgement on your end. Small acts that show vulnerability such as asking you to help him with something he can’t quite handle on his own — even if it’s something as simple as not being able to reach something off a shelf or being unsure about how to fix something. Eventually, he’ll work his way up to the bigger stuff like being physically wounded in front of you or having a mental block.
- Sharing his clothes with you or letting you pick his outfit for him. Now, it sounds like he’s just being a little diva and that’s only partially true. But his clothes are important to him, they’re a factor that sets him aside from his plain-dressing rival and in his eyes they make him more interesting than him, visually at least. He’s happy to dress you up, and it is true that he has to have a close relationship with you to want to do so, but you should be especially proud if he lets you alter his appearance in any way.
- He likes to believe that he’s had his goals set out from the beginning. Surpass Near, become the next L, and go on from there. What he pushes to the back of his brain are the moments he’s been studying and he’s asked himself ‘What if I went down a different path?’. He quickly pushes these thoughts away, but they keep coming back. What would life be like if this wasn’t an option for him? What if he were a writer? What if he lived in the city with people he loves and went to the movies every Friday? Unwillingly, he has a whole list of possibilities. If he truly trusts you, he’ll share every single one with you. Whether it’s dropping hints or confessing them one by one late at night, he can’t help but feel that they’re safe with you.
Misa
- it seems a bit surface level, but it’s true — Misa will talk down on Light in front of you if she trusts you. But it’s not straight away. She had developed a lot of courage to actually break up with him, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still doubt her decision to do so. It’s only when she finds out from you how loved ones are supposed to treat each other — with kindness and respect — that she feels her decision to ditch Light was the entirely right one. Slowly, she’ll start to admit to you all the things she hated about Light, starting with some of his mannerisms and building up to something like how he forced her to leave the entertainment business.
- Misa is…dramatic. She likes to go above and beyond for someone she’s infatuated with and make sure they’re the happiest they can be. If she trusts you enough to develop this kind of infatuation and, with some development, less of an obsession and more of a strong, bonding love, you will be doted on to the point where it’s almost ridiculous. You could be at home during one of her work days and you’ll get a delivery of lunch from your favorite takeout place because Misa was ‘thinking of you <3’, as she explains when you text her asking why food randomly showed up at your place. It’s rather sweet.
- Misa’s a pretty talkative person in general, that’s a well known fact. She’ll talk about clothes, a cute birdie she saw on her way home, really anything that comes to mind. But, she’ll do that with about anyone who’ll listen. It’s gradual, so it’s hard to notice, but if Misa grows to trust you she’ll start talking about some of the more serious things that have been on her mind for a while, those things that she thought would scare off anyone she liked because of how personal they are to her. Her family before they died, for example. It’s something that Misa thinks about. So much. But she doesn’t really talk about it. She wants to forget, put the past behind her but because she’s never talked about it with anyone it’s hard to do that. She’ll talk about her family to you, the little things her sister used to do and some things her parents did that she misses.
Matsuda
- Matsuda often begins to idolize those who he thinks are trustworthy and have a good heart. He starts to tell you how much he loves when you do x and that he wishes he could perform as well as you in that area. In a sense, he trusts you with his vulnerability, letting you know that he thinks of himself as less than satisfactory and how he wishes he could do better, only he channels it by pointing out good things about you. If…that makes sense.
- This sounds dire, but he’ll risk his life for the people he completely, without a doubt trusts. He was willing to do so with Chief Yagami, someone he saw as a father figure, and he would certainly be willing to do so with you, someone who he feels he has a deep emotional connection to. Whether you’re in a situation where he would need to or he’s just saying that he would, he means it.
- Matsuda trusts you to not make fun of him when he overshares or talks too much or anything his coworkers brush him off for. He feels that he can talk about things he finds funny and talk about his life without worrying about what you think of him when he does.
Matt
- he would drop everything to help you. Whether that’s dropping his game to help you kill a bug or leaving his duties behind to help you out of a life or death situation. Whichever scenario you happen to find yourself in he’s there no matter what.
- He’ll invite you into his personal life. I know this is kind of a given but Matt had the chance to become the next L. He had the chance to become something “great” and he said “ummm rather not” to it because it wasn’t something he wanted. If he shares this information with you, he trusts you not to leave him for something better when you discover the status he could have had and refused. He trusts you to appreciate him because of him and not the intelligence everyone but him cherishes.
- He leaves you alone around important technology and software he’s hacked. Unfortunately for him, betrayal comes with the business he’s got himself into and, if Matt really trusts you on both a professional and emotional level, he won’t have a problem worrying about whether or not you’ll take advantage of his coffee break to gather information for some other organization or something. He will literally just go “mkay babe I gotta go fuel up on caffeine real quick, you’re good watching the hacked government database right? Cool cya.”
Near
- Near trusts you to take him to public places. Sounds simple, yeah. But Near has never liked crowds, or even just too many strangers in a wide open place. It’s strange to everyone observing how one day he decides he needs a new toy, his old one having broken due to old age, and asks you to take him to the toy store. He’s questioned, people wondering why he wouldn’t rather you just go alone but Near insists. Apparently the toy that broke is special addition and he wants to make sure you get the right one. He stays close to you the whole way, not really saying much, but he’s there and that’s a big step for him.
- He helps you out with puzzles. Basically cheats for you. When he’s eyeing one specific empty slot, coughing lightly to get your attention, just know that he’s not helping you because he thinks you need it. Quite the opposite actually. With anyone else, he believes that they should be able to solve it on their own. He thinks that if they can’t, then that’s their fault. But with you…it’s as if he trusts that you’re intelligent enough without the puzzle being an indicator of that intelligence, so much so that he thinks the puzzle itself is obsolete when it comes to you. He doesn’t need a puzzle to know how smart you are.
- He’ll eat the foods you make him. Near’s picky eater-ness is above that of a child who only eats chicken tenders and pizza. He doesn’t eat that many people’s food because he knows it’s probably not he way he likes it. But with you, he trusts that you respect his eating habits and know him well enough to get it right the first time. Though he does check the food out for a bit, he’ll eat it. Sometimes all of it. Fuckin astonishing to Rester who had attempted many times to heat up microwave dinners for the guy.
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h0neypjm · 3 years
Text
Just for practice | kth
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↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”
↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader
↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung
↳ Rating: 18+
↳ Word count: 5.3k
↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming
↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy
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Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]
Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?
You [ 2:16 PM ]
I’ll be there :)
Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]
You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?
You [ 2:20 PM ]
No of course not haha
Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]
Is that a promise princess?
A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.
“Do you need help with your essay again?”
Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”
Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?” 
You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”
Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.
“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.
Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.
Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.” 
You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”
Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”
“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”
Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.” 
You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding. 
“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.” 
Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”
If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?
Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.
“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”
You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”
“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”
His eyes are wide. “Oh” 
You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”
“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”
Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.
A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”
Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.
This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”
His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”
Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.
You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together. 
However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.
“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”
Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”
He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”
You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”
An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”
You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”
A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”
Your brain is having a meltdown. 
“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”
He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”
You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.
Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”
Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”
A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.
Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.
Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.
You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.
His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”
Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”
He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time. 
Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”
Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”
You don’t get to respond.
His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.
Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue. 
Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.
Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.
You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.
His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”
You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.
Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.
“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.
Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.
A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered. 
He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.  
“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.
The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.
Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”
You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.
Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”
Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.
So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”
The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.
With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.
His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.
His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.
The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.
It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.
You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing
Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”
His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.
“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”
He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.
A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.
Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.” 
You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.
“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.” 
Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.
Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.
A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock. 
You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”
Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”
An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.
He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”
As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.
For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue. 
Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”
His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.
“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”
You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”
Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.
Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.
He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”
You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”
Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”
You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”
His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”
Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.
A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.
The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.
The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.
It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.
He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.
Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”
He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”
You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.
It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt. 
“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”
Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”
He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”
You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”
He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.” 
You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”
He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”
Fucking finally.
You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.
With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.
Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.
Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”
His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”
And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.
His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.
“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion. 
You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”
He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”
You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”
It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”
He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”
He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”
He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”
You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.
“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves. 
The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.
“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.
You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.
However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.
You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.
You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.
“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery. 
Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.
You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.
“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon. 
You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.
Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?
“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”
You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.
“You just squirted on me.”
You’re flushed, “I- what?”
Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”
Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.
Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”
You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”
Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”
His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.
He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”
You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”
That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length. 
You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.
Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.
You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.
You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.
Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.
It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.
With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.
His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.
You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.
His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.
With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.
Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.
You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”
The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”
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genyawritesshizz · 2 years
Text
Part 4 of my Monty x animatronic reader
Angst
Angst
Not going to lie I’m having horrible writers block trying to write this chapter so I’m sorry if it’s quality is not as good as the others. I have ideas for the story but getting there is a struggle.😮‍💨
“Don’t worry (y/n) you got this thing in the bag!” You where currently sitting at a table with the Glamrock gang, Chica of course mowing down on a pizza per usual yet between her handfuls of it she still reassured you.
“Yeah dude chill out it’ll be okay” Roxanne rolled her eyes she was supposed to be the dramatic one.
“Yes I completely agree superstar! All the tours you’ve given me have been wonderful, and the coffee is outstanding!” Freddy ever the kind bear allowed you to give him fifty thousand mock tours to practice for today and Chica was more than willing to try any drink on the menu. They had truly been amazing friends to you the past few nights. Although ever since that first night on the catwalk Monty had been very distant, never really saying anything to you. It hurt honestly. The way he made you feel was something you’d never experienced before, you think, and to have to ignore you just made you ache. You never ventured to rockstar row before but you had half a mind to go see him. However whenever you asked about Monty not being present they all said it was best to avoid him for right now. Something about him destroying his room and lots of yelling. Yeah it was probably best to give him some space, besides during the tours you’ll see him sometime. Through the aching you felt joyful to see him.
The sounds of the front door opening alerted you to the first staff member entering.
“Alright guys show time!” Freddy and the others retreated to the stage front while you hid behind the giant display they’d position right at the front door. It was like a giant curtain that you would walk out of once they announce you. Unfortunately you would have to wait in anticipation for a good hour after the place opened for everyone to get rallied together for the big announcement.
“Oh gosh” you could hear the crowd growing and growing. Your metaphorical stomach was doing backflips, you couldn’t help but pace around the small area.
“Ladies and Gentlemen may i when your attention please!”
Oh here we go almost show time.
“Would everyone please put your hands together for the newest edition to the Freddy Fazbears pizza plex (y/n) the kangaroo!” The curtains opened and there you stood with your hands held high in the air waving to the dozens of cheering children. they all stared at you with pure amazement. Everything was a blur from then on. You came out of the display and high-fived, hugged and waved at about thirty children. They all absolutely adored you saying things like “I love your fur!” “You’re so awesome!” And lots of “Wow!” ’s. Your heart pounded with absolute love at this. Your fears slowly died when realizing they loved you already.
“For today only (y/n) will be giving free tours!” The children screamed. “After the tour be sure to check the gift shop for the newest merchandise!”
With the introduction out of the way you lined up the first tour and began starting with the main atrium and working your way back. Unfortunately the adoring crowd couldn’t calm your nerves about seeing Monty again. Throughout all the tours you had yet to spot him. Was he hiding from you? Of course not that silly! He wouldn’t do that! Would he?
Luckily for the crowd you ran into Roxan and Chica a dozen times and managed to slip in some interesting facts about chickens and wolves. The crowd loved it!
Though the day went by swimmingly with back to back tours you barely had anytime to pop into the cafe, luckily they had hired a team of works to assist in running the shop while you where away.
Some kids loved you so much they b-lined it for the gift shop to purchase a plushie of you! Seeing them hold a mini you close to their hearts made you melt. Wow this is your job… making children happy. Is there anything better?
Hm… there it is again. A sense of dejavu? It’s like you’ve felt this way before. But that’s impossible this is your first day online with children… right? You can shack the odd feeling in your chest.
“Ladies and gentlemen please make your way to the stage! The main show will be beginning shortly!” The children in your current tour exploded with absolute glee.
“Alright kids let’s go catch us a bear!” With that you marched your happy troop of screaming children to the main stage. Allowing them to disperse and find seats around the stage. This finally gave you a bit of free time to pop into the cafe and relax for a bit. You could always watch the show from inside anyways, it had a giant flatscreen for those who didn’t want to be in the crowd to watch.
“Hey (y/n)! Taking a break?” Said one of the cafe staff members from behind the counter. You simply nodded at them and took a seat at a bar seat beside a lone women. The flatscreen was mounted right behind the bar. You where excited to see everyone perform… and to see Monty. But right at the show began you felt someone staring at you. Turning to the side you saw the women you had sat next to ogling you.
“Hi! I’m (y/n) the kangaroo!” You greeted her. The women said nothing as she continued to stare. It made you a bit uncomfortable coming from an adult, normally it was children that stared without saying anything. But no matter, you allowed her to keep looking adults can be curious to! You glanced back at the screen. Freddy and the gang where no on stage greeting everyone.
“Can’t believe they actually remodeled (y/n) the kangaroo from batys. Even after the accident.”
‘Processing error’
‘Processing’
‘Processing’
.
.
.
“What did you say?” You stood from the seat towering over the women. Eyes wide and staring into her soul.
What did she mean by that? What the hell is going on?? Your sensors are going crazy trying to process what she had just said. Something about it just lit a fire under you, and you don’t even know what it meant.
What is batys? Who is baty? Accident? What accident?
“wow wow! Back up (y/n) you’re scaring her!” The same staff that had greeted you came barreling over at the scene before her. You where standing inches away from the cowering women in her seat. The poor lady looked like she was about to piss herself. Finally you got a grip on reality and out of your frantic thoughts. Leaning back and away from the women you blinked a couple time and sat back down.
“My deepest apologies ma’am! You just caught me off guard! Here have a complimentary coffee!” The women shacking did nothing but sit there, probably to frightened to move.
You where lured back to the screen before you as the music blasted through the cafe. Though you where watching it your mind was else where.
Remember.
Remember.
What is she talking about?
‘What else do you know?’
“Uh (y/n) I think it’s time for you to give another tour!”
“Huh, oh right, thank you!” You can out of the cafe and to the adoring crowd waiting for you. “Okay kids let’s go on an adventure!”
“Yay!!” They screamed
.
.
‘Welcome to Batys barbecue!’
.
.
This required further research. After hours you would conduct an extensive internal and internet search for answers. This could either be a coding error or… something else.
.
.
“Attention all Freddy fazbear mega pizza plex guests the mall is now closed please exit the building!”
“Ahhh (y/n)! You did so well! They loved you!” Chica of course ran up to you as soon as the doors closed to give you a big hug. You returned it of course.
“You did alright, except in the end when you got all fuckin’ weird!” Roxanne came around the corner from rockstar row, slinging an arm around Chica.
“Roxanne be nice! Maybe she was just nervous! It’s okay we all have our little hick-ups out there!”
“No she’s right! I had a bit of a malfunction while you guys where performing…” you lightly kicked at the ground, a bit embarrassed.
“What do you mean malfunction? Do you need to go to parts and service! Did one of the kids spill something on you? Oh gosh I remember the first time I had fizzy faz spilled on me! It was a nightmare to clean! Made my wires all hunker up and stinky. I mean we’re water proof but sti-” you quickly put you hands up defensively trying to stop Chica’s rambling.
“No no! Nobody spilled anything on me! And I already ran a self diagnostics test everything’s working perfectly it’s just I feel like somethings wrong.” She gave you a perplexed look, her eyes doing a quick one over you to try and see if there was anything visibly wrong with you. Roxanne simply rolled her eyes, and she thought she was a drama queen.
“Look newby it’s probably just nerves, we all got them our first time, well except me. I’ve been perfect since the beginning!” This earned a light elbowing from Chica.
“She’s probably right (y/n), it is probably just your nerves!”
“Chica report to the cleaning station! Chica report to the cleaning station!” A robotic tone yelled through the loud speaker, cutting their conversation short.
“Well, it’s time for my weekly cleaning! Try not to worry about it to much! I’m sure by next week everything will be great!"
The peppy little chicken required weekly cleanings due to her addiction to eating anything to even resembled food. Though, you’d never witnessed it yourself you heard from rumors within the staff that they’d caught her digging in the trash a couple times.
Of course wherever Chica goes Roxy goes, the two chatted together as the descended down the halls.
Something deep within your subconscious told you that this wasn’t just stress, no this was something more. Something that you should remember, something so important yet, no matter how hard you tried nothing popped up. Maybe it was best if you retreated back to your room. As in, the parts and service area. Until they could properly build you a room you’d forever be confined to the dark and depressing parts and service room. You didn’t even have a proper charging station, you had to manually hook into the main power banks. Oh well, it is what it is for now. Taking your hat off and moving aside a the tufts of fur you found the charging port located at the back of your head. Setting down with your back turned to the wall you grabbed the power cord and plugged in. It was a very odd feeling to say the least…. You closed your eyes and let the power flow through you.
“…l. ve… ou… (y/n)! D… f…r…et….
Please!…”
A scream rattled through your brain.
It wasn’t yours.
It wasn’t of anyone you recognized. Jolting up from the floor you dislodged the charging cable with force.
“Gosh! Ouch!” You rubbed the back of your head, the spot sore from the forceful tug. “What… what was that?” The voice felt like a distant memory now, as you tried to recall what it said. “Running voice analysis” you ran the voice through the pizza plex’s customer database, maybe it was something someone had said to you earlier? If not the analysis will identify if this voice belonged to a customer that’s ever been in the plex.
“Data entry error.” Huh, so they must not be a customer… if not then where did you hear this voice at? Running through your memories one last time you still failed to find anything. Though something tucked at you to look deeper.
‘Old suit.’ You thought, wait “old suit? What? You’re brand new! You don’t have an old suit!” You poor circlets felt fried from the pure about of over thinking. Since roxy and Chica where busy, and Monty seems to be ignoring you maybe you should go see Freddy. He’ll know what to do! You grabbed your hat and fashioned it back on your head.
Just as you where about to exit the parts and service room a little clanking sound caught you attention. It came from the corner of the room. Cautiously approaching it you found what appeared to be a little ‘spider’ animatronic. He held to small cymbals and a rather dapper top hat on.
“Hello there?” You questioned, it quickly turned around to face you. It looked almost scared. “I’m (y/n), who are you?” It’s pink eyebrows rose up for a second as if studying you. Before bowing it’s head in a greeting. “Are you lost little guy?” It shook its head before turning back to the wall it was facing. Upon walking closer to it you notice that it was in fact not a wall but a door.
How had you never noticed this door before?
“Oh are you trying to go in there? Here let me!” But upon trying to open the door you where met with a warning sign.
‘Level 10 security clearance required. Access denied.’
“That’s strange, I thought all animatronics had full access.” The little spider simply shook his head and looked up at you before darting up your leg. “Ah! Hey what are you doing!” Before you could fling the little guy off he’d jumped from your hat to the open vent above the door. He disappeared through the vent.
“What a stage little guy.” You’d certainly have to question Freddy about why you couldn’t access this door and what on earth that thing was. It was about three hours till opening time so you’d have to make it snappy. The way to rockstar row was short and silent until you reached the actual hall. The sounds of someone yelling caught you attention. It sounded awful. Glass shattering and wood splintering echoed out. Quickly you knocked on Freddy’s door. The lovable bear answered.
“Freddy! What is going on?!” You ushered you inside a nervous look on his face.
“Uhh… well you know how we talked about Monty having his ‘moments’ well he is having one.” Oh… ohhh this is why they told you to avoid him. He has temper tantrums. Makes sense. “He is very angry and just needs to let out some steam! That is all! Nothing to worry about!” He seems to be hiding something but you won’t press him about it now. You had your own quest.
“Freddy I need to ask you something, it’s very important.” He quickly shock off the nervous demeanor and got serious.
“Yes of course what is it?” You looked him in the eyes.
“Am I… new?”
“Well of course! You just arived at the pizza plex a month ago! You’re brand new!”
“That’s not what I meant, I mean am I brand new? Like when I came here did I have… a different suit?” He looked down at his feet.
“I… I do not know. Your endo skeleton is of an older model so it is possible that you could be from a different location. Why? Is something wrong? I assure you that we do not look down on you for being older! In fact I come from a long generation of Fazbears! My original model is from the 60’s!” He put a reassuring paw on your shoulder and brought you in for a hug, which you gladly accepted.
“No nothing wrong that I can tell, it’s just I think I need to see my old suit… for closer I guess.” He rubbed your back.
“I understand but, I’m also not sure where they would store such a thing.”
“I have an idea. There’s another door inside the parts and service room, but I don’t have the clearance to go through it. Do you?” He pulled away from the hug, his eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m sorry superstar but if you do not have the clearance I cannot allow you to go in…” you felt disheartened you knew the rules, and you knew it was a long shot to ask Freddy to break them for you.
“I’m sorry for asking..”
“Hey it’s okay! T-” Freddy’s door slammed open revealing a teary eyes alligator with disheveled hair. He looked wrecked, the tiny pieces of glass scattered across his form shimmered in the neon lights of Freddy’s room. Chunks of green wall paper clung to his clawed hands.
“Fre-” he finally looked up from the floor and the eyes he met where not the bright blues he was expecting. Instead the two of you made wide eyed eye contact for what felt like forever.
“Monty? What is it that you need? (Y/n) and I where just having a nice chat!” Freddy tried to draw your attention away from the fact Monty looked like he’s been through hell and back but it didn’t stop you from staring.
“Nothin’ ” Monty turned in the doorway, inches away from being gone. Instinct took ahold of you and you bounded over to the now gator.
“Wait Monty!” Your soft pink paw pads landed on his shoulder pad halting him in his tracks. Though he didn’t bother to look back at you. “Can… can we talk to? Maybe not here but…” you looked down at the floor. Monty’s shoulder relaxed under your touch and he sighed.
“I guess.” Was all he said before shugging it off and walking off again this time slower allowing you to trail behind him. You briefly turned back to Freddy. He had a weird look on his face, like he was nervous but happy. Yeah that old bear knew something.
Making your way to Monty’s room you hesitated behind him for a second before entering and immediately stepping on a pile of shredded cotten. Upon closer inspection you find a shredded doll of… yourself.
Yikes…
The poor star shaped vanity mirror in the corner was smashed to pieces, that explains where the broken glass came from. The walls had huge gashes taken out of them along with giant fist shaped holes.
“Sorry ‘bout the mess.” You tried to ignore the poor replica of you shredded to pieces on the floor and return to Monty who flopped down on the couch. The poor thing was split in half and struggled to hold the gator.
He ran a clawed hand through his hair and tried to shake the pieces of glass out with little to no precision.
“Here let me help.” Bounding over before he could stop you, you began picking the tiny clear specks out. He sighed again.
Being this close to him again made your internal processors heat up with excitement. It took everything in you to focus at the task at hand and only pick out the glass not rub your hands through his luscious red locks. His hands however where locked to his sides as if he where afraid to move. Head tilted down for you to get a better look.
Hmm how those hands wrapped around your waist the other night was nice. Made you feel all kinds of warmth and happiness… oh yeah that’s why you wanted to talk to him.
“Look Monty… did I do something the other night? Im so sorry if I made you mad or-” his head shot up your hands falling from the frizzed locks.
“No.”
“Then… why have you been avoiding me?” You hands now crossed over your chest. The two of you locked eyes.
“Because… well” In all honesty he was the gator was at a lose for words. He wasn’t sure how to put his feelings into words. He was never good at it that’s why he always went to Freddy to vent about how he felt. Contrary to popular belief Monty and Freddy got along swimmingly. Their ‘rivalry’ was just a stunt pulled by corporate to boost sales.
“Well? Do you not… like me?”
“No! It’s not that it’s actually the opposite. Look (y/n) I like you. I’m not sure what it is but I just can’t keep my eyes off ya.”
“Then why have you been ignoring me?” Testing the limits you stepped close to him. The two of you now less than a foot apart.
“I… I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you. You’re new…”
“I see… look Monty I don’t know exactly what this feeling is but I know that when I’m around you I get happy.”
Huh, weird as the words left your mouth it almost felt like you went into auto pilot. As if you’ve spoke these exact words before…
The two of you engaged in deep eye contact for a solid few minutes, searching deep within each others very being to see if there was ever a hint of unsure or uneasy. Slowly his clawed hand came up to your face. Finding a lone piece of your fur. He twisted the hair between his fingers a bit before tucking it behind your jaw.
“You’re just hypnotizing sha.” His large palm now rested on the side of your face. Gently caressing it. “I just don’t want you to feel like uncomfortable around me.”
Bringing your much smaller paw up you leaned into his touch.
“You could never make me uncomfortable Monty.” The two of you fell into a deep lull of this sweet embrace. His head coming to rest against your chest as His thumb gently rubbed at the soft tan fur of your checks. Your fingers tiny in comparison to his glided over each knuckle until
“Oh” you felt something sharp rip at your finger tip. Upon glancing to the side you noticed that Monty’s hand plate had multiple dents. Your finger had grazed over a rather large and sharp tear where the metal had broke open assumably against the wall. “Your hurt!”
You could feel his snout scrunch up against your chest. His hand pulled away from your face and he began to flex it around a bit.
“It’ll be alright.” His voice muffled.
“But Monty…” your hands reached down to try and tug his face up from your chest but the stubborn gator refused to budge.
“This ain’t nothin’. ”
‘Maybe if I take him to parts and service he can open the door for me…’
Wait where did that thought come from? Freddy had already told you that that room was off limits. But yet, something still absolutely gnawed away at you to go inside.
Have to find out.
But
Why?
“If you say so big guy.” You shook the thoughts from your head. The two of you where having a bonding moment no need to ruin it with these radical ideas. But that did have you wondering. Would Monty help you? Would be allow you in? Those where questions for another time. For now you continued to cuddle the alligator until his systems shut down in his resting state.
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allergic to you
Word Count: 3, 713
Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x High School Age!Fem!Reader
Warnings: some swear words I guess, but as per usual, it’s just fluff from me. 
A/N: Guess who’s finally joined another fandom lol hello Haikyuu fandom! Pls be kind, it’s my first time writing for this fandom but I am in love with Karasuno boys, it’s problematic. Anyways, please let me know if you liked it! Sorry if I didn’t quite capture him the way other writers do haha. Also, Y/N = Your (Last) Name, just cause typing Y/L/N is exhausting lol my b
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(Not my gif, credits to the original creator!)
Yamaguchi was trying his very hardest not to laugh, his hands clasped together in front of his lips to stifle his giggles as the tall blond boy he had known for years just looked at him desperately.
“It’s not funny,” Tsukishima’s lips formed into a frown (almost a pout), looking away from his friend nervously. His fingers played with some chopsticks, poking at his uneaten lunch.
Yamaguchi had never see Tsukishima Kei nervous. Volleyball games? Totally calm. Math class? Easy. Exam season? Piece of cake.
But put Tsukishima near a girl? No, scratch that. Not just any girl. Put Tsukishima near Y/N? It was all over for him. Suddenly, this 190cm tall boy wanted to shrink small enough to run away and not be noticed.
“It’s a little funny, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi insisted, finally letting out just a tiny chuckle that he just couldn’t hold back. “I think you’re overreacting. Just a bit.”
Tsukishima’s eyes turned back to the other boy, staring at him as if analyzing him, “How could I be overreacting? I’m telling you, I’m allergic!”
Yamaguchi was really trying his best to be supportive, knowing that talking about things was already hard for Tsukishima, especially when involving a particularly cute girl. “You think... you’re allergic... to Y/N,” Yamaguchi retorted slowly, repeating how Tsukishima started this convo with.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Tsukishima scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Obviously it’s some product she uses or something,” his nose scrunched up slightly as he tried to think of what it could possibly be. “Like that hand lotion she uses. The one that smells like vanilla and brown sugar,” Tsukishima proclaimed, nodding to himself like he had solved the mystery.
The green haired boy was still trying his best to be supportive. He nodded slowly, giving a forced smile to his best friend as he slowly spiralled into insanity. He had never seen Tsukishima this desperate for answers before. “Hasn’t she let you use some of that hand lotion?” He wondered aloud, remembering very specifically how red Tsukishima’s ears got when she rubbed a bit into a rash he had gotten on his hand.
“Gotta take good care of your hands if you play volleyball, Tsukishima-san!” Y/N had beamed, her fingers massaging the cream in.
Tsukishima had practically fainted that day, though he’d never admit it.
The blond’s frown tightened, holding his hand to his chin in thought, “Right. So not the hand lotion then.”
“Maybe she got a new perfume?” Yamaguchi offered, nibbling on some of his lunch while Tsukishima thought it out.
“No, she’s still using the same one,” He mumbled, and Yamaguchi smirked to himself, knowing that Tsukishima would’ve never admitted before that he knew little details like this about her. 
“Well. what kinds of symptoms do you have? Maybe that’ll narrow it down,” Yamaguchi suggested, leaning his head back on the wall behind them. It wasn’t unusual for Tsukishima to want to eat some place quiet, but today had been the first day that he had practically dragged Yamaguchi to this small secluded spot behind the school. The two of them sat against a wall to eat, though Tsukishima’s lunch had been completely forgotten.
“I just-” Tsukishima hesitated, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he tried to word how his body felt every time she was around. “I always feel so lightheaded. And my heartbeat’s always irregular too. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe properly.” His hand slid into his jacket pocket, pulling out his phone and tilting the screen towards Yamaguchi to show him a medical diagnostic page on the web. “Some people say these are symptoms of allergies. Or an anxiety attack. But I’m leaning more towards allergies.”
Yamaguchi squinted at the text, “You... Googled it?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips, glancing up at Tsukishima, amused.
“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” Tsukishima scoffed, scrolling through the page. “I don’t know what else it could be. It’s not with anyone else. It can’t be the classroom either, cause when she’s not around, I don’t feel anything.”
“Hm. So what’re you going to do about it?” Yamaguchi asked, going along with this ‘allergic’ idea as much as he could. He knew Tsukishima was very rational and even if he suggested what he figured was happening, Tsukishima would never listen.
“D-Do?” Tsukishima blinked. He hadn’t thought about what the next step was.
“Well I assume you don’t want to keep feeling that like right? You could always ask the teacher to move you, I suppose. Then ask her not to attend any of our games. Avoiding her for the rest of your life seems like the best choice doesn’t it?” Yamaguchi asked innocently, closing up his lunch box and taking a sip from his juice.
Tsukishima stayed quiet, eyebrows still furrowed and the frown on his face tightening. He knew that made sense - one of the girls in their class was allergic to nuts and she always had to be careful what she ate, and he had even heard of some people not eating or drinking milk products because of allergies. The logical part of his brain agreed with Yamaguchi, perhaps staying away from Y/N was the only answer.
“Then... maybe it’s not an allergy,” Tsukishima mumbled quietly. He hated going back on his word but he couldn’t deny that he loathed the idea of not seeing Y/N’s smile ever again. Or seeing her sit with someone else. “Maybe it’s just something I have to get used to.”
“You know, Tsukishima,” Yamaguchi started again, looking off to the scenery that was in front of them. His voice was light and airy as he tried to coax his friend to the idea, “What you’re going through sounds a lot like-”
Tsukishima could hear it in his voice, he knew the next word forming from Yamaguchi’s lips before it even entered the air. He slammed his lunch box closed and stood up abruptly, turning away from the other boy’s eyes. “Lunch is over,” he grumbled, as if that was the reason he stood up so dramatically.
Yamaguchi smirked and packed up his things, shaking his head slowly when Tsukishima wasn’t looking. He wasn’t at all surprised that Tsukishima was having a hard time accepting his feelings.
The word hung in the very serious boy’s mind for the rest of the day. He tried not to focus so much on Y/N as he sat next to her for the rest of their classes, tried to not inhale too much or look in her general direction, in fear that his “allergy” would act up again.
He was almost positive it wasn’t... that. He would know for sure if it was, wouldn’t he? His nose scrunched slightly as he thought about the music he had listened to before, ones that had just a good melody and beat and he definitely didn’t listen to because of the lyrics since they were about... that thing.
Didn’t some people talk about their heart feeling like it was going to fall out of their chest? That they found it hard to breathe? That it was like all life stopped when they saw that person? And that despite all this, they never wanted to be without them?
Tsukishima had to get to the bottom of this. He was either experiencing some sort of allergic reaction to her or he was experiencing feelings. He thought about ignoring them, pretending like they didn’t exist so that maybe everything would go back to normal one day. But how long would that take? Wouldn’t it just be easier to rip off the bandaid and find out now?
At the end of class, Tsukishima zoomed his way out of class, not waiting for Yamaguchi like usual.
“Is he alright, Yamaguchi-san?” Y/N asked, surprised that the two best friends weren’t walking out together like they had every other day. Some days, they would even walk out with Y/N on their way to practice. But apparently, not today.
“He’s got a lot on his mind,” Yamaguchi explained, waving it away with a smile. Perhaps today he would be walking home by himself. And that was fine by him.
Y/N packed up her things and waved goodbye to her other classmates, heading out the door and slipping in her headphones. Her mind drifted to all the things she had to do when she got home, whether or not there were leftovers to heat up today or if she should cook something up.
“You take so long,” a drawl voice interrupted the very beginning of her first song. She blinked in surprise, looking to her right where Tsukishima was leaning against a tree.
Y/N pulled out one earbud, tilting her head as she watched him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him do this casual, I-don’t-care-about-anything lean, with his headphones around his neck and his hands shoved in his pockets. But there was something different about him this time. Why was he avoiding her eyes? Why was he not giving her an annoyingly carefree smile? Why were his ears turning pink?
“Were you... waiting for me, Tsukishima-san?” Y/N asked slowly. He didn’t move for a moment, as if still calculating something in that big brain of his. He pushed off of the tree after sighing, walking over to her slowly.
“Obviously,” was all he said, glaring down at her as if she should’ve known this.
“You rushed out of class so quick, I thought you were already going home,” Y/N responded, still a bit confused. “Don’t you and Yamaguchi normally walk home together?”
Why did she have to question so much? Why couldn’t she just realize what he was trying to do? Tsukishima huffed and grabbed her hand, dropping a nice cool juice box in it. His eyes darted away from her next inquisitive look, but glanced back almost immediately because he wanted to see her eyes widen just a little at her favourite juice box.
“W-What is this?” Y/N asked, holding it in her hands. Part of her wanted to examine it to make sure he hadn’t somehow tricked her into holding something that wasn’t actually juice. She looked up at him suspiciously - Tsukishima knew her favourite juice?
“You didn’t have one with you today. I figured you forgot your wallet again today,” Tsukishima mumbled, shoving his hands in his jacket again.
“O-Oh. I did, thank you. Um,” Y/N hesitated. Was Tsukishima trying... to be nice? “Why... why did you buy it for me?”
“I just said why,” Tsukishima scoffed, flicking her head gently. He scolded himself internally, feeling guilty as soon as she showed the surprise on her face. She’s asking why you thought to be nice, Kei, stop being snarky, he told himself harshly. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly, feeling almost immediately bad for flicking her.
Y/N just laughed though, giggles spilling from her lips as she looked up at him, “Are you feeling okay, Tsukishima-san? You’re turning red,” she teased gently and he looked away from her quickly, hating how quickly his face heated up.
He took a breath, trying to mimic how calm he was on the court. He turned back to look at her with a cocky smile and confidence gaze, though he was sure she could tell he was nervous, “I’m fine, Y/N-san. But I need to tell you something. And I’m only going to say it once so listen up.”
Y/N watched him intently, noting the fake confidence he was trying to put on. She nodded as he looked at her for any sign to keep going.
His lips opened for a moment and Y/N could’ve sworn there was a moment of panic in his eyes when nothing came out. “I’m going to walk you home today,” Tsukishima stated finally, each word thudding into the air. He felt his confidence falter as the wrong words left his mouth, shifting his bag on his shoulder and starting to walk ahead.
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, feeling her confusion only rise. Did he really build up that whole thing... just to walk her home?
“Hurry up or I’ll leave you here,” Tsukishima called behind his shoulder, still walking ahead. He was internally punching himself, groaning and uttering insults at his own stupid self. Couldn’t even say it. Couldn’t just say Y/N I like you and I think I’m either allergic to you or I’m utterly in love with you but I’ve been told I suck at explaining how I feel and that I never say the right things at the right time so please just reject me so I can move away from these exhausting feelings.
“Want some?” Y/N’s gentle voice was suddenly beside him, and Tsukishima felt his stomach doing that flipping motion again. He glanced down at her and saw her holding up the juice box at him. “Seems only fair, since you bought it,” she explained, the glimmer in her eyes making him feel way too warm inside.
“Sure,” he mumbled after a moment. She smiled just a little bit wider, holding up the juice to him, expecting him to just snatch it away and drink. But no, Tsukishima being a little bitch and deciding that if he couldn’t admit anything with words, he could try with actions, leaned down slightly, and latched his lips onto the straw. His hand wrapped around hers over the juice box, holding it still as he took a sip.
Y/N felt like she was suddenly bright red, her heart possibly having exploded right then and there. His eyes looked up to meet hers as he sipped, smirking a bit as he noticed the panicked and flushed look in her eyes.
Maybe the feeling is... mutual?
“Mm,” he hummed, pulling away after keeping her gaze for a second. “I guess I can see why you like it.”
Y/N had shivers running up and down her spine, feeling like Tsukishima had looked into her very soul and knew about her year-long crush on him.
The two of them started walking a bit slower after that, and to the external eye, you’d probably just see two classmates walking home together. But look a little closer, and you’d see both of them having internal conflicts. They managed to walk through the small roads filled with shops and make it about halfway to Y/N’s house in complete silence. 
“Y/N-san,” Tsukishima finally ended it, the agonizing silence, in which he had been racking his brain trying to think of how to start a conversation. He stopped in his tracks as he spoke the one word, the two of them now on a quieter dirt path. There was no one to interrupt them, no one to save Tsukishima from embarrassment, no Yamaguchi to fill the awkward silence.
“Hm?” Y/N looked back at him, noticing him just standing there. “Are you alright, Tsukishima-san?”
“There’s something I need to say,” he started, his hands in his pockets clenched into fists.
“O-Oh okay.”
“I’ve been... feeling sick around you.” Baka, he scolded himself for what felt like the millionth time. That definitely wasn’t the way he had wanted to say it. “I-I mean, not like sick sick but like allergy sick,” he tried to recover, but scoffed at himself since that wasn’t all that much better.
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in response, trying to think about his reactions lately. He had definitely been more flushed lately, but she always thought that was annoyance. He’d been quieter and more distant, but it was Tsukishima after all. He looked over to her desperately, hoping to see that she was understanding what he was trying to say. She wasn’t. 
Tsukishima was starting to get frustrated. He knew he wasn’t the greatest at communicating but how hard was it to see how much he liked her? Yamaguchi saw it, hell, even his upperclassmen teased him about it when they first saw Tsukishima and Y/N walking out of class together one day. So why did other people who didn’t need to know it, why did they understand but she didn’t? Why was she so dense? 
You’re not saying anything, his mind reminded him as he scowled to himself.
“It has to be that,” Tsukishima finally continued quietly, his eyes now staring at his feet. He was practically trying to convince himself now. It had to be that there was a health related issue with him being around her. It had to be that, because if it wasn’t, it meant that Tsukishima had to tell her how he felt. And that meant that he was probably going to end up hurt. Why a girl like Y/N hung around a guy like him anyways was beyond him. 
“Why?” Y/N frowned, still terribly lost in the cosmos of this odd confession. “Why would it have to be that?”
“Because if it isn’t that, then it means that I’ve fallen completely head over heels for you.”
Tsukishima wasn’t sure how he had managed to say the words. But there it was. His fists tightened even more, his fingernails digging into his palm so hard it was starting to hurt. 
His eyes closed tightly, turning his head away from her. He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see laughter or disgust in her eyes. Maybe he could take it back now. Maybe he could-
Tsukishima jumped at the feeling of a poke on his chest, his eyes opening in surprise when he found Y/N standing much closer than she was earlier. “Are you teasing me?” She asked defensively, squinting her eyes up at him.
“T-Teasing?” Tsukishima stammered. He watched her eyes, noting how visibly upset she looked and he could feel his frustration rising. He had finally said what he had wanted to say this whole time... and she wasn’t even reacting the way she was supposed to. How stupid did she have to be? And why did she have to look so damn cute while doing it?
“Yamaguchi-san told you, didn’t he? I knew that poophead couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” she grumbled, crossing her arms against her chest. “He swore he wouldn’t tell you, but I should’ve known. You guys are best friends and all.”
“Told me... told me what?”
“That I’ve liked you practically since we met,” Y/N huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “Listen, Tsukishima-san, if you don’t like me back, you don’t have to tease me like this. I’m perfectly fine being rejected,” she told him with a pout on her lips (she was definitely not fine being rejected, and was planning on crying at home after this). “Don’t act like you didn’t know.”
Tsukishima‘s eyes widened, staring at her like she had grown a second head. “You... You like me?” He gulped. His allergies must be getting worse, his heart was thumping so hard against his chest, he couldn’t think straight.
Y/N and him shared a confused look for a moment, neither one of them sure who was teasing whom at this point. “Didn’t... didn’t you know? That’s why you’re being nice to me?” She asked him, poking his chest again. “Why else would you be walking me home and buying me juice?”
“Why would...” Tsukishima’s lips curled into a smile and suddenly he burst out into laughter, tilting his head back in amusement. 
“Why are you laughing?” Y/N whined, punching his arm lightly with a huff. “This isn’t a time to be laughing at me!”
Tsukishima straightened up with his signature cocky smile, shaking his head as he fixed his glasses on his face. Then, his hand moved to hit the top of her head.
“OW! Tsukishima-san!”
“You idiot. Why would I be standing here confessing to you if I was just going to make fun of you?” Tsukishima scoffed, smirking at her. “If I didn’t like you back and I found out you liked me, don’t you think I would’ve made it clear by now that you never stood a chance?”
Y/N thought about this for a moment, remembering that one time a girl in a different class had confessed to him after attending one of his matches.
“I think you’re incredible, Tsukishima-san! A-And I just.... well I just...”
“Are you trying to confess to me?” Tsukishima didn’t even bother looking up from his study book, finishing an equation before even glancing at her. “You should just give up now. I’m not interested.”
The girl had teared up so much, even Y/N had felt bad (even though she was secretly happy that Tsukishima hadn’t accepted the confession). Yamaguchi had yelled at Tsukishima about being gentle that day.
“Why would I be nice to someone stupid enough to think I’d like them? I didn’t give her any hints that I did, I don’t even know her,” Tsukishima grumbled.
Y/N had internalized those words, deciding she wouldn’t confess her feelings to Tsukishima ever. If she did, and Tsukishima rejected her, he probably wouldn’t want to be around her as friends ever again.
“So...” Y/N thought to herself for a moment, trying to reexamine what had happened today. “What was with the juice box then?” She asked him. 
“I thought...” Tsukishima frowned a little, looking up at the sky in thought. “I thought when you confess you were supposed to... give a gift or something.”
Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at his thought process and Tsukishima glared at her slightly. “You’re laughing at me now?”
She shook her head quickly, trying to stifle her giggles, “I just... I think it’s sweet,” she beamed, holding onto her little juice box even though it was empty now.
Tsukishima watched her carefully before smiling a little, patting her head gently, “Alright then, let’s get you home. I’ll bring another juice box for you for our date.”
“D-Date?” Y/N repeated shyly, following him as he started to walk again.
“You thought I’d just confess to you and not ask you out? Idiot,” Tsukishima smirked, feeling such an intense relief on his shoulders. His heart was still beating furiously and his stomach felt like it was going to come up his throat, but... it wasn’t as frustrating of a feeling now. 
After he dropped her off at her house with the promise of walking her to school tomorrow morning, Tsukishima couldn’t help but allow himself to smile widely the whole way home. 
If this is what an allergy felt like, he never wanted it to stop.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
Okay like I mentioned up there in the Author’s Notes, this is my first time writing for Haikyuu so lmk what you thought :) I’ve written some stuff for OHSHC and I think it’s pretty obviously that tall jerks with glasses are my type lol 
Anyways! Enjoy!
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The Cabin - Tom Hiddleston x Curvy Reader (Part 1/3)
“What’s got you so distracted?” Evans asked Tom.
“Sorry, I just…I had planned on visiting my family again during break, but most of them will be on a cruise for a family friend’s wedding. I know I saw them less than two months ago for Christmas, but I don’t get to see them often anymore.”
“Oh, damn!” Chris replied.
“I know, I’m considering whether or not it’s even worth it to deal with two incredibly long flights going to and from London if I’m not even going to get to see my family.” He said, opening the make-up trailer door for him and Chris.
“Where else were you thinking about spending break?” he asked, plopping down in the make-up chair to start having all of the Captain America washed off for the next two weeks.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I may just take a trip to somewhere much closer by myself.” Tom answered, running his fingers through his hair when his wig was removed.
“If that’s what you WANT to do, cool, but you should just come with me to the cabin.” Chris suggested.
“The cabin?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, my friend Y/N owns a huge cabin and I drag my family up there every few years.” He explained.
“Thank you for the invite, but I couldn’t intrude on your family’s time with you.” Tom politely answered.
“Come on. First, you know my mother loves you. Second, you aren’t intruding on anything.” Chris tried convincing him.
“I really don’t want to be a bother.” Tom felt guilty, knowing how much of a family person Chris was.
“That’s it.” Chris dramatically pulled his cellphone out. “Siri, call Ma!”
“You wouldn’t.” Tom said, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Calling ‘Ma’” Siri’s voice replied. The make-up artists were trying hard to keep their laughs to themselves at this point.
After a few rings, Chris’ mother answered the phone. “Hey sweetie.”
“Hey Ma, I’m here with Hiddleston and I need you to settle an argument.” Chris shot Tom a snarky ‘watch this’ look.
“Tom! How are you, sweetheart?” Chris’ mom Lisa asked.
“I’m doing well, thank you. How have you been?” Tom replied with a grin on his face.
“I’m good, I’m good. Now what are you two arguing about?” She asked.
“Well, Tom isn’t going to get to see his family over filming break.” Chris started to explain.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Lisa interrupted. “You should just drive up to Y/n’s with Chris! There’s plenty of room and you know I always make too much food anyhow.”
Chris gave Tom a cocky grin. “That’s exactly what I was telling him, Ma!”
“You’re too kind.” Tom laughed. “I suppose you’ve made an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome with us.” Lisa reiterated. “We’re getting ready for bed since our flight is so damn early in the morning, so I’ll see you two tomorrow!”
“Thanks, Ma! Be safe!” Chris answered, hanging up the phone.
“Thank you.” Tom said, getting up from his make-up chair.
“I told you, it’s no biggie. We’re gonna have a blast.” Evans answered.
“When are we leaving?” Tom asked.
“Well, we’ve got a few options.” Chris answered as the two of them left the make-up trailer.
“Go on.”
“They aren’t expecting us there until tomorrow, but if we leave in the next few hours, we’ll actually beat them there.” Chris explained.
“I mean, I’m nowhere near tired.” Tom said, letting Chris know he was down for the drive.
“Same. I’ve been so excited for this trip, I feel wired.” He replied “Wanna pack and meet me at mine?”
“Absolutely.” Tom answered. “Anything specific I should pack?” He called loudly as the two had walked a distance apart.
“Dress comfy!” Chris yelled back. “And bring a jacket! It’s snowing!”
Tom waved and made his way to his trailer.
It was about an 8 or 9 hour drive up to the cabin, so the guys rolled up at about 3 in the morning.
“Is anybody else here?” Tom asked, as Chris navigated his truck up the snowy drive.
“Y/n’s here. She spends about half her time up here.” Chris answered, parking the truck and shooting you a text.
“Where does she spend the rest of her time?” Tom asked.
“Everywhere, really. She’s a writer. She’s even come and crashed with me while I was filming.” Chris answered, hopping out of the truck when he got your text reply.
“Books? Scripts?” Tom asked, curious what you wrote.
“Books, mostly. She’s got a few popular series, but she also has a few pen names that she refuses to tell me so I’ve always assumed she like consults or edits or something.” Chris answered.
“How mysterious.” Tom chucked, grabbing his bag and following Chris up to the house.
“Y/n!” Chris yelled into the cabin, leading Tom into the large home.
“Did you really work all day and then drive 8 hours?” you laughed, walking down the stairs.
“I just couldn’t wait to see that beautiful face.” Chris dropped his bag and pulled you into a bear hug.
“Sure. This definitely has nothing to do with you beating Scott to one of the big bedrooms.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around him.
“That’s just a perk.” He teased, introducing you to Tom. “I’m sure you know who this is. Y/n, Tom. Tom, Y/n.”
“Nice to meet you.” You replied, pulling Tom into a hug.
“It’s very nice to meet you too.” Tom said, happy to see that you seemed just as chill and down to earth as the rest of Chris’ friends and family.
“He had to bail on his plans to fly home for the break, so I convinced him to join our two weeks of amazing chaos and shenanigans.” Chris laughed.
“Amazing is right, bucko. I just got two hot tubs installed” you shared.
“Yes!” Chris half yelled.
“Also, mi casa es su casa, Tom. Make yourself at home.” You told him.
“Gracias.” Tom replied in Spanish.
“Any chance you two want to take a dip tonight before the rest of the pack arrives?” Chris asked, looking between you and Tom.
“Absolutely” you answered, walking towards the kitchen. “You both okay with Beer? I’ve got other options.”
“Beer for me.” Chris answered.
“Actually, a beer sounds rather refreshing at the moment.” Tom answered.
“I’ll grab the beer and you two can pick your rooms” you called from the kitchen.
“You down for the hot tub?” Chris asked Tom.
“I am, but I didn’t pack any swim shorts.” He answered.
“No worries, Y/n has a whole closet full of random stuff. Follow me.” Chris led Tom up the stairs. “Y/n’s room is at the very top, but there’s two rooms just below that. We can take those two. Let those with kiddos stay closest to the bottom floor.”
“Sounds good to me” Tom replied, dropping his bag on the bed before following Chris to your closet of misfit swim clothes, jackets, sleepwear, blankets, and other miscellaneous stuff.
When you made your way upstairs, you saw that the guys had picked the two rooms closest to yours. You weren’t surprised. They were the two biggest after yours and Chris never got to pick one of them because he was always the last to show up for his family get togethers.
“When you two get changed, head up to mine. The second hot tub is on my balcony.” You took the three unopened beers and went up the last set of stairs to get changed in your room. Your suit was a black balconette bikini top and a pair of black high waisted bikini bottoms. The top and bottom had a few strappy bits that accentuated your curves.
“Well hello there, sexy lady.” You heard Chris and his unending charm behind you as you were finishing getting your top all sorted.
“You guys get settled in?” you asked, nodding towards the beers.
Chris opened one and handed it to you. “We did.” As he opened another for himself and sat on your bed, he shared a bit about Tom. “I’m happy he tagged along. I don’t know what he’s got going on in his personal life because he doesn’t share a lot, but he needs a break like this.”
“Well, if I had to take a guess...” you took a swig of your beer. “You two get along great which makes me think he’s a down to earth, genuine person.”
“I agree” Chris replied.
“If you’ve seen any of the tabloids lately, they aren’t very friendly to the exes of the women he’s most recently dated. I’m going to assume he’s a bit overwhelmed and a bit worn out. It’s hard to stay genuine and down to earth when the media is writing about you as if you’re a scheming fuckboy.”
Chris took a swig of his beer. “I think you might be right. God, beauty and brains? Why won’t you marry me?” he teased.
“Like you could handle me” you teased right back.
“I’m going to go get more beer so we don’t have to leave the hot tub.” Chris stood and smacked your ass on the way out.
“How did I know you were going to do that?” you laughed.
Chris was laughing as he passed Tom. “I’ll meet you two up there.”
When Tom walked in, you opened the last of the three beers and handed it to him. “Pink suits you.” You noticed he was wearing the bright pink swim shorts from the closet.
Tom blushed and laughed as he took a sip of his beer. “It was this or ones with bananas all over them. I thought I’d make a bold choice.”
“Choice well made” you replied, opening the double doors to your balcony. “It’s going to be a short chilly journey to the hot tub, but heaven once you get in.”  
When you went to walk up the steps on the side of the hot tub to get in, Tom extended his arm so you could grab his hand. “Be careful.”
“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile.
“God, I leave for two minutes and you two are already holding hands.” Chris snarked as he joined the two of you on the balcony. You and Tom both laughed as you walked down into the hot tub and let go of his hand. “What’s he got that I don’t got?” Chris was fake sniffling as he climbed into the hot tub after Tom.
“Oh, sweetie. I don’t think you want to know the answer to that question.” You answered, finishing the beer in your hand.
“Now I really want to know” Chris replied, opening and handing you a second beer.
“Are you two always like this?” Tom laughed.
You and Chris looked at each other and answered “yeah” at the same time.
After the three of you had spent about a half hour in the hot tub just talking and laughing, Tom cleared his throat. “Thank you for this.”
“For what?” you asked. He was sat between you and Chris, the three of you looking out at the beautiful snowy mountain view.
“Chris, for inviting me. You, for having me. Both of you for forcing me to get out of my own head.” Tom answered.
“You don’t need to thank us.” Chris replied, slapping Tom on the shoulder.
“He’s right, you know.” You smiled, looping your arm through his and leaning your head on his shoulder, looking back out at the view. “You’re pretty great company if I do say so myself.”
“Well, if I can’t thank you, at least let me share my appreciation of you both.” Tom replied, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.
“Just wait until the whole pack shows up” Chris laughed. “It’s calm now, but you’re going to have plenty of distractions once the shenanigans start.”
“Remember, my room is the safe zone” you laughed. “No kids, it’s off-limits during games, and it’s the only access to this balcony.”
“I’ll keep that in mind” Tom chuckled.
Chris looked over and saw you cuddled into Tom’s side. “Why do I get the feeling you’re ‘appreciating’ Y/n over there a lot more than you are me” he teased.
You laughed and Tom looked over at Chris. “If you wanted a snuggle, that’s all you had to say.”
The three of you were all laughing, the lateness of the night sinking in. “If I snuggle anyone I’m going to fall asleep, and I have a feeling that’s not the best idea in a hot tub.” He stood up and hopped over the side, almost slipping on the icy balcony floor.
“What time is everyone arriving tomorrow?” you asked, not moving from your spot at Tom’s side.
“Well, they always grab breakfast down at that old little diner after they land, so maybe 11?” Chris answered, wrapping himself in a towel.
“You mean we actually get to sleep in?” you said with a bit of exaggerated shock.
“I don’t think it counts as sleeping in if you don’t go to bed until after the sun starts peaking over the mountains.” Tom teased you.
Chris laughed. “Hey, we’ll take it. Sleep is going to be a rare commodity around here for at least a few days.” He left the balcony and went back inside to warm up.
“I can’t wait.” Tom said.
“Me either. I love when they come up here. Always makes this place feel more like home.” You shared, moving to get out of the hot tub.
“I think the chaos is something I miss when I don’t get to spend time with my family.” Tom replied, once again grabbing your hand and making sure you made it safely out of the hot tub and onto the balcony. “I think having all of my nieces and nephews running around and the fact that there is always something cooking or baking…It’s hard to feel alone.”
You handed Tom a large towel and wrapped another one around yourself. “Well, if that’s your idea of a great time, you’re going to love your time with Chris’ family. They’re love and chaos and great food with a dash of an extreme love of competition.”
Tom followed you back into the house. “Well, again. I appreciate that I’m able to experience it.”
“Me too” you said, drying your hair a bit with your towel. “It sounds like you needed a bit of an escape.”
“That’s one way to put it” Tom said, drying off.
“Well, if you need anything just come find me, okay?” You could hear Chris coming back up the stairs to your room.
“Thank you, I will.” Tom replied, seeming to hesitate for a second. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you tonight. Or this morning, rather.” He laughed.
You couldn’t help but smile as you threw your towel into the clothes hamper. You were a very confident person. You were proud of who you were, and you loved your curvy body, but all of a sudden you felt very naked standing there in your bikini. Tom’s genuine compliment and the way he confidently looked you up and down left you with goosebumps. “The feeling is definitely mutual.”
“Let me know if I can help with anything. Preparations and such.” Tom mentioned as Chris walked in.
“Don’t worry about that, Ma usually takes over when she gets here.” Chris laughed.
You shrugged. “True” you added, both grateful for and irritated by the interruption.  
“Y/n, I checked that all of the doors were locked. Our trucks are both locked too. I’m gonna pass out and shower when I wake up.” Chris let you know.
“Thanks” you replied. “I’ll probably hop in the shower before I go to bed so that I can help your mom sort meals and such out when she gets here.”
“Sweet. I’m going to bed.” Chris interrupted himself with a yawn. “I will see both of you in a few hours”
As Chris headed back down a floor to his room, Tom cleared his throat. “I really don’t mind helping.”
“You’ll eventually get roped into doing something, I promise.” You laughed.
Tom nodded and smiled. “Well then, I’m going to go shower and sleep. I’ll see you in a bit.”
As Tom turned to walk down the stairs, you spoke. “Try to relax.” When he turned to look at you, you continued. “You have nothing to worry about for two whole weeks. No schedule, no paparazzi, no expectations…just, let yourself enjoy it, okay?”
Tom smiled and nodded his head. He replied “I think I will” before continuing down the stairs.
Instead of your alarm, you were woken up by Chris crawling into your bed. “Y/n.” He was trying to wake you up gently. “Y/n!”
“Did my alarm not go off?” you asked, rolling over and snuggling into Chris.
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I underestimated my mother’s planning. Turns out they got to the diner at 8 this morning and they’re currently unloading the cabs downstairs.”
“What time is it?” you asked.
“9:30” Chris replied, the two of you hearing someone coming up the stairs.
“I’m going to need coffee” you mumbled.
Tom made it to the top of the stairs and saw you and Chris together in your bed. He tucked the thought away, making note to ask Chris about the two of you later. “Not a morning person?” he asked, laughing at your messy bed head and request for caffeine.
“I can be when I need to be, but we were awake and drinking on my balcony like four hours ago” you replied.
“Can I make you some coffee?” Tom offered.
You rolled over and sat up sorting out your messy hair. “I can make it. I just need to get dressed.”
Chris rolled out of your bed, going to your closet. “Bra, leggings, sweater, fuzzy socks.” Chris tossed your clothes onto your bed.
“You know me so well.” You laughed, gathering your clothes and getting out of bed. “I’ll be down in a few.”
“I think they’re finished unloading, but I’ll go see if there’s anything else they need help with.” Tom replied, heading downstairs.
“I’m offended that you two look like you’ve just had 12 hours of beauty sleep.” You teased Chris, pulling your leggings on.
“I think you’re underestimating yourself” Chris said, turning to leave. “You’ve definitely caught someone’s attention.” Chris had noticed the way Tom looked at the two of you cuddled up in your bed and planned on asking him about it later.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sleepily asked, but Chris was already gone.
You finished getting dressed in your long, oversized sweater and fuzzy socks and walked downstairs to greet Chris’ family.
“Y/n!” Chris’ sisters greeted, pulling you each into a hug, the three of you quickly catching up.
Then came Scott, who practically tackled you. “Bitch, it has been too long.”
“Agreed.” You replied, the two of you making plans to go get stuff for drinks tonight.
You’d said a few hellos and given a few hugs to various other friends and family and eventually you made your way to the kitchen with Tom and Lisa, Chris’ mom.
“Oh, my dear, it’s so good to see you.” Lisa pulled you into a tight hug, kissing both of your cheeks. “I can’t believe the boys showed up at three this morning!”
You laughed. “It’s good to see you too. And Chris warned me a few days ago that he would probably drive up after he finished filming.”
Looking over you saw Tom holding a mug of coffee out towards you. “For me?” You reached out and took the mug from him.
“It’s the least I could do. Lisa told me how you take your coffee.” He answered, nodding towards Chris’ mom.
You took a sip, humming to yourself. “Thank you, this is perfect.” You pressed a quick kiss to Tom’s cheek before hearing Chris’ niece call for you.
“In the kitchen, sweetie” you called back out, walking towards where you heard her call from.
As the adults started getting settled into their rooms, the kids were all starting to crash from the hectic morning they’d had.
“Let’s watch a movie in the den, guys.” You suggested, grabbing blankets and pillows and throwing them on the couches and floor so that the kids would spread out and nap.
“What are we gonna watch?” one of his nephews asked.
“Well, we’ve got Goosebumps, we’ve got School of Rock, and we’ve got Bedtime Stories.” You read the movies aloud, with the kids all picking Goosebumps. About 15 minutes in, all of you were asleep in various places in the room.
Scott, Chris, and Tom were bundled up in their jackets talking on the back porch as Chris set up your grill and got it ready to use.
“So how long have you guys known Y/n?” Tom asked.
“Oh, god. It’s been…I don’t even know. It’s been years.” Chris thought about how long you guys had been friends.
“Chris met Y/n one day in New York. She was there for a book project or something and Chris had ducked inside her apartment building to get away from paparazzi.” Scott laughed, remembering Chris tell him the story.
Chris let out a big laugh. “She was getting ready to walk out and I practically ran into her. When she realized why I so rudely shoved my way into the building, she asked me ‘Do you want to do something very immature but totally worth it?’ I had to, right?”
Scott continued the story. “She led him up to her apartment and ran inside. Chris just waited at the door wondering what he’d gotten himself into when she popped back out, holding a box of water balloons.”
Tom laughed. “Oh, please tell me you threw them at the paparazzi.”
“They did. They filled a bin full of them and went to the roof.” Scott replied.
“I have never made a friend so quickly in my life” Chris said. “We got through about half of the bin before they left. Even better, they never got a picture of me throwing the balloons. The tabloids alluded to the fact that it was me, but we never officially got caught.”
“I don’t know if she adopted us or if we adopted her, but she’s been family ever since.” Scott added.
“Either way, she’s the best kind of people.” Chris said, closing the lid on the grill.
“I can see that.” Tom replied. After a short pause, he continued. “Have you two ever…dated?”
Chris grinned, remembering how Tom had looked at the two of you cuddled up in your bed. “Nah, she’s one of my best friends. Possibly my actual best friend.” he answered, sitting down next to the other two guys.
“Even though I’m sure ma would love it if you two got together.” Scott laughed.
“I think ma just wants both of us to settle down and have kids like the girls did.” Chris replied. “She treats Y/n like a daughter.”
Scott looked back at Tom. “Why the interest in Y/n’s dating life, huh?” he teased him.
“Just curious” Tom answered with straightest face he could manage.
“I don’t know” Chris continued, continuing to tease Tom. “You two looked awfully cozy last night.”
Tom’s cheeks blushed a bit before he could answer. “If a beautiful woman laid her head on your shoulder, what would you have done?”
“Fair point.” Chris laughed. “She’s single, you know” he added.
“She is” Scott echoed, smirking. “And I have a date to go shopping with her if you want me to see if she’s interested.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” Tom replied, failing miserably at hiding his grin.
“No rush” Scott answered, putting his hands up. “I’m just saying…”
“Give him a break” Chris interrupted. “He’s got two weeks to see where things go.”
“True” Scott replied.
Part 2
167 notes · View notes
eclectickss · 3 years
Text
Make Me Feel Special (1/2)
Pairing: Milf!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
Warnings: Mommy issues/kink, sexual implications, major age gap (reader is of age)
Summary: You are angry at your best friend for turning down the opportunity for something that you would give your life for: a mother.
Word Count: 3K?
Link to Part 2
A/N: Not grammar checked at all! A blurb gone big!(still at writers block on PGATW) But requests are open! I’ve never done one before but i’m willing to try. <3
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You entered the apartment and placed your keys in the dish and jacket on it’s hook, making your way into the kitchen to place your to-go food in the fridge. Jane sat at the island on the computer you shared, and you smiled.
“Hey, I picked up sandwiches for dinner. Hope that’s cool.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Your best friend didn’t look up, but it didn’t really bother you. Well, she was your only friend, but still.
You and Jane had been sharing the apartment for years now, The two of you working a good job to afford it and making a livable income. You had been close since high-school, due to your similar social status, but beyond the two of you, nobody was too good at making friends.
From what she had told you, Jane’s mom wasn’t around much when she was growing up. Jane was a teen pregnancy, and ever since she was born, her mom made no time for her daughter. Agatha, was her name.
Agatha came from a wealthy family, though. Her parents (Jane’s grandparents) wouldn’t allow her to use the family money for her child, much less anything else. She struggled with Jane, and therefore the two of them were ever close.
Agatha’s parents died when Jane was in high-school, so her mom inherited their wealth, but their relationship was past salvageable. At least in Jane’s eyes, it was.
Jane was always telling you about how bad of a mom Agatha was and about how you were lucky that you didn’t have to deal with someone like her. Jane didn’t understand though. You would had given anything to have someone like Agatha. Even if she wasn’t around to much, it was still better than nobody at all.
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You were now setting the table for two as you pulled the sandwiches out of the fridge, also finding some strawberries to place at the table. You now were looking through the pantry for chips when you heard a knock at the door and Jane moving around to answer it.
“Mom?!” You heard at the door while you still had your head buried in the pantry. Your eyes widened at the name, never expecting to hear it in your life (in that context, at least). You thought Agatha was out of the picture. “What are you doing here?” You stayed silent as you listened from around the corner.
“Well, I think it’s long overdue that we had a talk, Jane, honey.” She sounded a little more raspy than you were expecting, but that doesn’t say much about someone who used to be an addict.
“We don’t do that, Mom. Anyways, now isn’t a good time.” You heard your friend sigh. The woman was your literal mother... you could at least give her five minutes, you thought.
“I want to start, honey. Please just let me in?”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“C’mon, kiddo.” She begged, and you felt a little bad for how Jane was acting. You know her mom wasn’t a great person, but she was still her mom.
You never got to have one of those.
“If this is just you on another one of your sobriety stunts...”
“I’m really trying this time, Jane! I know I fucked up, baby, but please.”
“Fine.” Your friend grumbled. You heard increasing footsteps and your heart raced as you were about to meet the source of Jane’s complaints and drama.
You hurried to sit at the kitchen counter before the two women caught you snooping, but your gaze snaps up just in time to see Agatha Harkness walk into the room.
Jane might have always mentioned that her mother was any and all variations of a bitch, but she failed to mention how attractive the woman was. Her messy brown hair sat on top of an old purple cardigan and worn out jeans, followed by a pair of well-used slip-on shoes. The look together was not extremely flattering, but Agatha somehow pulled it together in a way that made your stomach turn. Your eyes raked her down, but you think she caught you when you met her gaze again. She smirked softly.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had guests!” She says as her own eyes follow your figure, and you wonder if she’s just doing it to mock you or flatter you. She looks back up with a glimmer in her eye, and you decide on the latter option. Your face goes red, but you try and brush her actions off, not wanting to mistake it for anything else.
“Didn’t I say that this was a bad time?” Jane grumbled.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Harkness. My name is YN.” You smiled as you held out your hand.
“Call me Agatha, darling.” She stared into your eyes. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of Jane’s friends.” You panic under her gaze.
“We were just about to sit down for dinner, if you want to join us. We don’t have any food for you, but-“
“Oh, thank you... I was hoping I could talk to Jane in private, though.” She walked over to the table and took a seat.
“Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it to YN, too.” The two of you joined Agatha at the table.
A long moment of awkward silence passsed between the three of you before your guest finally spoke up.
“I want you in my life, Jane. For real this time.”
Nobody says anything, and dishes stop clattering.
“I know I shoulda done this earlier... hell, I shoulda done this when I got claim to my parent’s money, but I want to look after you. I never got the chance to do that when you were young... cause of all the drinking and working... but I can do that now. I’m ready.”
Jane sat with her mouth open and a half eaten sandwich forgotten on her plate.
“No, Mom, you shoulda done this from the moment I was conceived. You don’t get a second chance with me. I’m not giving you a second chance, or a third or a fourth or whatever number you wanna give yourself. You wanna know why? It’s because I already did that. And you let me down every single time.”
Agatha looked a little speechless.
“Fine, then.” She sighed. “I won’t bother you again.” But it hurt you to watch a daughter turn away her mother, when that was an opportunity that you wanted so badly. “Is it alright if I stay the night, though? It’s a long drive back to my place.”
Jane rolled her eyes, knowing that her mother was being dramatic, but didn’t want to put up with any more of her antics. “I better not see you in the morning. YN can get blankets for the couch.”
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“Hey, Jane,” You sighed as you entered her room.
“Hey, YN. I’m sorry you had to deal with the shit show that is my mother. I can’t believe she just walked in here and expected me to accept her pathetic invitation.”
“No, it’s ok. She’s not that bad with me.”
“Well she just met you. I just don’t understand why she thought showing up unannounced would magically make me want a mother again. It’s fucked up.” Jane said, but you couldn’t sit there and watch her tear down something that you wish you had.
“Yeah,” you mumbled and rushed out of her room before she could say anything else.
You walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass, then headed over to the sink for some tap water. The cool liquid rushed down your throat as you held down your tears, thankful that nobody was around.
“Hey, Honey,”
Shit. You forgot that Agatha was on the couch.
You turn around to see her meeting your gaze, although her eyes quickly found the way to the rest of your body.
“You doing alright, babygirl?” The nickname made you heat up. She spoke with concern and care; something that Jane chose to ignore, which made you feel bad for Agatha. You wish that Jane wouldn’t take for granted what her mother was trying to offer her.
“Uh... yeah... I guess.” You sigh, hopping up to sit on the counter as you watch the other woman fill her own glass at the sink. “Jane is just... being a little hard right now.” You chose your words carefully, not wanting to lose the trust of your friend but also wanting to gain the trust of another.
“What do you mean?” You realize the situation you have put yourself in.
“It’s just... I didn’t have a mom at all growing up. Or a dad. I had my shitty uncle... until he tossed me into the foster system. I had it real rough... and it still kinda is... but Jane has been helping. That’s why we’re friends at least. She might view me as a charity project, but i’m desperate, I guess.”
“What does all of this have to do with Jane being hard, hon?” She leaned onto the counter across from you.
“She didn’t really have a mom, either... growing up. No offense.”
Agatha shrugged. “I know.”
“But now that she’s given an opportunity to have one, she turns it down... and it makes me jealous. Mad. Angry.” You pause. “I know I’ll never get the chance at a mom, but she has one. And fuck, I would give so much to have that.”
“To have someone like me? A recovering drunk who treated their teen pregnancy like a joke?”Agatha sighed into her hands, but her words meant so much more to you than she may ever know.
“Yeah. To have someone like you. Someone who cares.” At that, she looked up with a new light in her eyes, but you don’t meet her gaze. You don’t want her to see the blush or desire written on your face, so instead, you pull a cigarette out from your jacket pocket.
She watches you as you hop down from the counter to get the lighter out of the junk drawer, paying attention to the way your body moves. You notice how her eyes follow you, but you don’t call her out on it, knowing you would do the same if the roles were reversed.
“You want a hit?” You lift your eyebrow as you raise the smoke to meet her gaze. A glint of humor is caught on her face, and you smirk.
“Sure... why not.” She says as you join her in leaning up against the counter. You bring the cigarette up to your mouth and click the lighter.
“So,” Agatha starts again, both of you a few puffs in. “How did you end up here with Jane?”
“Uhh... we met senior year of high-school. I was fucked up. Shit grades. Wasn’t going to graduate. Drug money to pay off... no job. Jane used your money to pay off my debt. She found me a job. Tutored me. Like I said, I felt like a charity project. But at least I graduated. We both work now and pay for this place together. Maybe it’s not great but we’re both better off than we were a few years ago.”
“Why didn’t she accept anything I tried to give her? Did she tell you?” Agatha was prying, but you didn’t mind.
“You mean after high-school? She didn’t want any help from you. In her words exactly... ‘She wasn’t there for me for the first 18 years of my life, so why should she help out now...’”
“And what do you think about that?”
“I didn’t grow up poor, Agatha. I grew up with nothing. I would have taken any of your offers in a heartbeat, no matter how guilty they made me feel.”
“Good girl.” She nearly whispers, and you turned to face her, but you couldn’t make anything out of the expression written on her face. Your own skin was hot and something was burning in your core, and you didn’t know what to think.
“I’m sorry... what did you just say?” You watched as she put the cigarette out, now giving you her undivided attention.
“So tell me, honey, do you have a boyfriend? I’m assuming a pretty thing like you would have one. Tell me about him.” Part of you wondered where this conversation was going, but the other part assumed that she already knew which direction you leaned in.
“Uhh... not my type.” You stared at her with curiosity.
“So you got a girlfriend, then?” Her new confidence shocked you a little bit.
“Uhh... no.” You tilted your head, and she seemed to pick up on your confusion.
“Good girl.” Your mouth was dry. “You see, mommy doesn’t want you having a girlfriend... no, she wants you all to herself.”
Your eyes widen in shock, but your core aches and cheeks burn. You stare at the woman next to you as a hand slides onto your thigh.
“Oh come on, darling. You said you wanted a mommy, baby. I wanna take care of you. I see the way you look at me. Don’t deny you want me too.” She spins around and pins you to the counter, and you audibly gulp.
“But- Jane.” You whine, already being driven crazy by the proximity of Agatha’s body.
“Jane is kicking me out, baby girl. And you can come live with me. Mommy has a pretty house, honey. I can feed you, clothe you... make you feel good. I can make you feel special.” And God, your soul was ready to leave your body. You wanted this. You could hardly think as her soft lips grazed over the skin on your neck, and a soft moan escaped your throat. Her tongue and teeth pulled at the skin just below your ear, trying to pull a response out of you.
“Mom!” The both of you jumped at the third voice in the room. The two of you turn to Jane in shock. “What the FUCK are you doing!” She rushed over to the two of you, pulling Agatha off of your body. “You can’t just come into my life and try to fuck my friends after someone rejects you!” She pushes her mom back and turns to you.
“Oh my god, YN, are you ok? I cannot believe that she tried to touch you. God, that makes me sick.” She hugged you, but you still couldn’t say anything.
“Jane, honey, you don’t know-“
“Shut up! I can’t even look at you! Get out of my house, mom. I never want to see you again.” Jane’s face turned red with anger.
“Honey-“ Agatha met eyes with you, but you didn’t know what to do.
“Leave! Now.” She seethed and stomped back to the bedroom, expecting Agatha to be gone when she got back.
The woman in front of you moved silently while you still processed what just happened. When she returned with her belongings, she gave you a note, but headed out without saying a word.
After a few minutes, you finally looked at the piece of paper in hand.
If you ever make up your mind...
1286 Lincoln St NW
(673) 867-5309
-Agatha
-
-
-
“YN, are you sure you’re alright? I really never would have expected my mom to touch you or even make you feel uncomfortable. I’m so sorry.” Jane sighed as she sat on the bed.
“I’m fine, J. You don’t have to apologize on her behalf.” You replied, sitting on the chair opposite her.
“I mean what even happened. Why did she do that?”
“Umm... I don’t know. We were just talking and then she started that.”
“What we’re you talking about?”
“Oh, I was just explaining how we met.” You tentatively answered.
“YN you didn’t have to tell her that. I know it’s personal for you, I can’t believe she forced you to talk about it.
“I uhh- actually didn’t mind. I wasn’t forced.”
“Then why would you trust her with something like that? You know how she is.”
“Because...” You thought about your next words carefully. “She cares.” Jane scoffs.
“That must be a different woman we’re talking about, YN. My mom is a selfish bitch who only cares for herself.”
That tipped the iceberg for you.
“You know, Jane? I understand that you and her might never be besties like she wants you to be, but that doesn’t mean you get to fuck her over now that she’s trying.” Your friend looks up at you in shock.
“Well she fucked me over my entire life, so I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”
“Because! Jane! She’s changed! It’s only right that you give her one more shot in your life!”
She took a pause.
“I’m sorry, YN, are you defending my MOM? After everything she’s done to me, and everything i’ve done for you?!”
“Yes. It is sick watching you throw something away that I can only dream of.” You spat angrily.
“Geez, YN. Just- get out of my fucking house. Keep your rent money for the month. Pack your shit and get the hell out of here.” She nearly ran out of the room.
But you weren’t surprised. In fact, you expected this the moment you chose your side.
-
-
-
The knocks resonate through the large door attached to the even larger house. Agatha has money.
You thought Jane was over exaggerating a little bit, but now you understood that she wasn’t. You sighed as your cab sped away, and now all you could do was wait.
Agatha opened the door, slightly shocked to see you, but nevertheless happy.
“Hey baby, what is it?”
You took a deep breath, taking in the sight of the woman who stood in front of you.
“I want you to make me feel special, mommy.”
-
-
-
link to part 2
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ktheist · 4 years
Text
(why) we got married | m
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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.
x
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.”
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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...”
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“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.
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“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.”
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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!”
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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.
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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?”
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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.
x
note. if you enjoy this then please leave a comment either below or in my inbox! and check out the other members’ installments to the series filed under ‘verse’ on top!
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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years
Text
Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part Nine (Mycroft Holmes x Reader) SMUT
I am SO sorry for such a big delay between chapters! I’ve just had terrible writer’s block and my mental health has been.. challenging, to say the least! But here’s chapter nine! Sorry if Myc is a little out of character, I didn’t really know how else to write it! This is a shorter chapter but the next few should be longer! And expect some more emotional chapters coming up for when Mycroft finally talks to his parents about Eurus!
Word Count-  3766
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Mycroft wasn't entirely sure how long after you had fallen asleep that he had followed suit. He hadn't been planning on falling asleep at all, really; he was rather content simply laying there and thinking over in his mind how he had ended up in this position at all. It was a strange feeling still, feeling the weight of you in his arms, the feeling of your hands bunching in his jumper as though he were your lifeline, the light feeling of your breath skimming the skin of his neck. Strange, and yet welcoming. He was beginning to question why he had never tried harder in seeking this kind of thing out before, but he knew the thought was futile. He wasn't entirely sure he'd have ever wanted to be in this position with anybody else, as cheesy and cliché as he had sounded. He had a reputation to upkeep, an entire persona behind his Iceman nickname, and yet he felt entirely at ease, thawed, if you will, with you.
He had opened his eyes to find his head resting slightly atop yours, facing towards the television that had long since surpassed standby mode and instead remained a dark black. Mycroft couldn't help but focus on the reflection that he could see in its screen, the image of the pair of you laying embraced on the sofa, his hand resting so casually at your back that it could be mistaken for a position that had been practiced for years rather than only a few days. It was nice, he had decided. Nice that things had ended up this way, even if it had taken so many years to get this far. In both his mind and your own, it had honestly felt as though you had been together for far longer; as though it was some unspoken decision between the pair of you that neither of you would take the step to start the relationship, and yet made yourself unavailable for anybody else, cancelled plans to be with the other, enjoyed more meals together than apart. Though of course this was far easier on Mycroft's end, not exactly having many other social dependencies, and a lack of opportunities for such things with other people. Still, he had remained inwardly thankful that you had adhered to the same ideas.
In his own way, he was glad that it had taken as long as it did. It allowed for him to truly know you, far more than any information on a file could give. It let him introduce himself to you properly, allowed for you to truly get to know him, for him to feel comfortable enough around you to lower his walls and drop his public, heartless politician façade. Not that he had much choice in the latter part. You knew from day dot that it was, as you delightfully put, "a load of old bollocks." Though you never once taunted him for it, not really, at least not in a bad way. You just enjoyed teasing from time to time. Mycroft Holmes had always been the kind of man to laugh at the idea of things as trivial as fate, the whole 'being at the right place at the right time', or even luck, always claiming that every event was purely cause and effect. And yet, he found his ever so brilliant mind allowing himself to, for once, divulge into the prospects of it, liking the idea that perhaps the Universe wasn't always so cruel. And with this rarely optimistic thought in mind, Mycroft once again found his arm tightening slightly around you and allowed his eyes to close- not to sleep, but to take up the rare opportunity in his usually hectic life to just relax.
---
Only 15 or so minutes had passed since Mycroft had woken up before you began to stir slightly, the hand that was fisted into his jumper moved and instead wound beneath his arm, holding at his shoulder blade and pulling yourself impossibly closer to him, your leg twisting slightly and angling your hip to brush against Mycroft's crotch with just enough pressure to make him gasp. Mycroft had blinked slowly, trying to register the sensation while simultaneously trying to ignore it. He had felt his body stiffen, which had clearly been unwelcome to your sleeping form. You had turned once again, other hand circling his neck and tugging closer, pressing against him once more and humming at the warmth. Mycroft coughed rather loudly, face burning, eyes wide, utterly mortified and, quite frankly, half hard.
He was truly embarrassed, his body reacting in such a juvenile way from the slightest of touch. He cursed himself for his lack of control and placed his atheism aside to pray to God that it would just go away. It's not that Mycroft had never paid that part of his body any attention- he was human after all- but with his usually busy work schedule, and then the Eurus mishap, and of course having you in his home, he hadn't allowed himself to.. indulge.. so to speak. So clearly the smallest hint of friction was enough to turn him into a teenager again. He had also noticed that in your movements the hem of your shirt had lifted just enough that Mycroft's hand was now resting against bare skin and he swallowed thickly.
Mycroft had, of course, contemplated the idea of sex- in any form- in his past. It was in college that he had noticed his peers coming into school with hickeys on their necks, conversed between each other of their sexual encounters, parading body counts, and in University where he had found himself accidentally walking in on far too many students going at it in various cupboards and empty classrooms. He had taken a brief interest but soon let it die down when he had never found anybody interested in him, nor anybody he was interested in. Of course with his occupation and links there had always been the option to fulfil such desires with the security of utmost privacy, but Mycroft had never been keen on the idea of paying for sex. So that, of course, left him in the position of being completely sexually inexperienced, which had never bothered him or caused him any embarrassment until this very moment.
When allowing himself to enter the relationship with you, Mycroft of course suspected that sex would be on the cards at some point, but he had hoped it wouldn't be the result of basic instinct like this. Previously, the idea of being that intimate with you had been an exciting prospect, but now all that was left was embarrassment of his history, and insecurity of his body.
"God, how long have we been out? I feel incredible." You muttered against his skin, not making any effort to move away from the cocoon of warmth that Mycroft was providing. You hummed appreciatively at the feeling of the elder Holmes' hand on your back and the heartbeat that you felt under the fingers on his chest. Only the heartbeat was significantly increased since before you had fallen asleep. "Myc? You okay?" Now you did move, angling your neck to look at the flushed features of the man you were lying next to. Mycroft coughed and nodded weakly, making any slight attempt to angle his pelvis away from you. "If you're sure..? Was I being too clingy? Honestly, you can tell me and I'll stop hanging on you like a baby monkey." You heard a quiet 'no' and smiled. "Okay good, because I REALLY like the cuddling." You shuffled in a little closer and continued. "And, please don't shove me off, I think you like it too because you didn't let me fall and yo- Oh!" Your fidgeting had allowed your thigh to once again rub against Mycroft's erection and he hissed slightly.
"Y/N I can only offer my utmost apologies for reacting in such a callow manner." He stuttered out, making every attempt to wriggle his way from your grip with the idea of making a beeline for the door.
"You don't need to apologise, Mycroft. If anything, I should apologise for uh.. friction? Or perhaps Da Vinci should apologise for discovering friction in the first place?" You breathed a small laugh but Mycroft only remained stiff and uncomfortable. You manoeuvred yourself until you'd both sat up, you sideways slightly with your legs resting across Mycroft's lap and covering him. "Sorry, I tried to make a sciency joke to make you laugh. It was just my way of saying that you're okay and that you shouldn't be embarrassed. If anything, I'm flattered." You laughed slightly again and Mycroft's shoulders slightly relaxed. "Christ, I could, that's if you want to and please do not feel pressured, I could.. help. If you wanted to?" His eyes widened dramatically, brows raising to his hairline while his jaw comically opened slightly in shock.
"I don't.. that is.. you don't have..I-" In a rare moment of time, Mycroft found himself lost for words and an appropriate reaction.
"Don't worry, just forget about it. We don't have to do anything like that until you're ready.. If you're ever ready, that is.. If you don't.. do that.. kinda stuff, that's fine too." And now you were propositioning that you were willing to forego any kind of sexual activity should Mycroft never want it? Why? You answered his unspoken question with a chuckle. "I mean, I've gone 5 years without it, what's the rest of our lives?" Mycroft closed his eyes and took a breath.
"No. It's not that I don't.. want to.. I just.. I, well.. I'm a very busy man and I always have been so.."
"Mycroft, quite frankly I couldn't care less whether you've done anything with a hundred women or none at all. If anything, I find it kinda hot that you haven't. And even more hot if I were the one to change that." He nodded slowly and you smiled back at him. "Is that a yes? Because it doesn't have to be if you don't want it to be. We have all the time in the world."
"Yes."
"Okay. Just promise me you'll tell me if you want to stop." He nodded again. "Promise me, Myc."
"I.. I promise."
--------- sexy times warning ---------
You raised your hand slowly to brush against his face before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. Mycroft sighed in content as you let your thumb graze his cheekbone. Shifting position, you moved your knees to either side of his thighs, straddling him slightly but with your weight resting above his knees, your other hand circling to hold the back of his neck.
"This okay?"
"Mmm." You let your lips travel along his jawbone, nipping slightly at skin and smirking in triumph at the tiny gasps leaving the politician's mouth. Running your hands from his neck down his chest, tugging slightly at the thick jumper in silent plea. Mycroft raised his arms slightly, giving you the access to lift it and chuck it at the side. Wincing, you watched as it knocked the half cup of cold coffee you left on the side, the brown liquid splashing from its porcelain confinements onto the burgundy cotton.
"Please don't tell me that jumper's some four-figured item hand crafted by only the finest of maids in a remote Peruvian town.." Mycroft took his focus back and grimaced.
"Five, and Venezuelan." You stiffened and gulped slightly. "I'm kidding, it's only from M&S." A dazed grin on his face, hands squeezing ever so slightly at your hips. The back of your hand slapped his chest as you relaxed again, breathing out a laugh.
"You are a very cruel man, Mr Holmes." Head lowering to kiss at his neck once more. "You're bloody lucky that you're pretty." His low chuckle was cut off with a deep hum as you bit softly at his collarbone. You dragged your hands down again, fingering at the top buttons on Mycroft's shirt, and not missing how his body became tight. "We don't have to take it off if you don't want to." Relaxed once more. "Can I just undo a few? You'll be more comfortable I reckon without being strangled by a shirt collar." He nodded once. And then again when you double checked. And once more with a small 'yes' when you really wanted to make sure. Taking it slowly, you opened the top three buttons; two to give Mycroft's neck more breathing space, and the other to give your hand enough space to explore the new area of skin- fingers brushing over the top of his chest, auburn chest hair tickling between your digits. You kissed him again, tongue running ever so slightly across his bottom lip; relishing at the small whimper as you pulled away. Myc let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding when your palm dragged down from his chest and to the front of his trousers, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you rubbed slowly. You looked up once more to make sure you weren't taking things too quickly, E/C meeting the tiniest speck of blue that hadn't been hidden from his blown pupils.
"Please?" His voice was barely a whisper, and you were sure you wouldn't have heard it if you hadn't been as close to him as you are now. You tugged at his belt and threw it with the caffeine infused sweatshirt, popping the button of his trousers open and lowering the zip. Mycroft threw his head back against the sofa cushions as you reached in and began to stroke him slowly, your lips latching onto the much better exposed neck. You experimentally gave a twist of your hand each time you reached the head, thumb brushing over the pre-cum that had formed at the tip and using it to slick up your hand- the elder Holmes let out a low moan from his throat, fingers digging into your hips so tightly that you wouldn't be surprised if they left small bruises. Not that you minded, anyway. Hearing Mycroft make those noises under your touch was exhilarating, and knowing you were the first to do such a thing only spurred the excitement on more. You could feel his thighs tighten beneath you, his breathing become slightly more ragged. You hadn't expected him to have lasted long, and you began to recognise the warning signs. Removing your hand completely, you couldn't help but send Mycroft an apologetic smile at the look of disappointment in his face.
"Look, I've already ruined a jumper and I'll be damned if I'm the cause of ruining your trousers too- which are certainly not from Marks and Sparks." You shimmied yourself back until you could feel the plush rug beneath your feet, dropping yourself until you were on your knees between his open legs. You could see in his eyes how he wanted to protest, or make some explanation on how it's unsanitary, but Mycroft's sheer need fed by his curiosity won over and he closed his eyes in waiting, regaining slight control over his breath before choking on it as you slowly ran your tongue from the base of his shaft to the head. "Unless you want me to stop?"
"Good God, no." His voice raised, making you grin as you took him into your mouth completely, head bobbing in a steady rhythm with your hand that pumped what you couldn't reach. Mycroft was certainly larger than any man you had been with before; his long slender cock suiting his form perfectly. You hummed as you imagined later sexual encounters with him- him filling you completely at last- and he writhed as the vibrations ran straight through him. Without a warning, you removed your hand and took him into your mouth completely, sucking and licking against the long vein that ran on the underside of his erection. Myc's hands instinctively shot to your hair as he felt the warmth build in his stomach, quickly cumming with a shout as you hummed around him once more. You pulled off him slowly with an audible 'pop', trying not to overstimulate while he was still sensitive, and tucked him back into his trousers. He tried to balance his breathing, removing his hands from your hair and running them through his own. Standing back up, you glanced over his form- his hair absolutely wild, shirt unbuttoned sligthly, red hairs poking between the fabric from a heaving chest, mouth still slightly open as he breathed, cheeks flushed immensely. God he looked gorgeous.
"Was that.. uh. Good?" You inwardly cringed at your words. Christ woman, you just blew him, not given him a cake. Uncharacteristically for Mycroft, his pale hand reached over to cup your cheek, bringing your lips to his in a sweet kiss; his tongue experimentally running across your bottom lip before pulling away. "Right, okay. That answered my question on where you stand on kissing after. With you sat there looking all messed up and sexy I was about ready to run and brush my teeth to kiss you again."
"Apologies.. I found myself.. curious."
"You bloody pervert." You winked, leaning to kiss him again. "So you'll kiss me after.. after.." You tried to think of a word that wouldn't sound overly vulgar to the man who had swallowed several dictionaries in several different languages.
"Fellatio?"
"Christ on a bike, Mycroft if you call it that I'll never do it again." The pair of you laughed like a pair of idiots for a moment before you continued on. "Anyway.. You'll kiss me after I do that and deem it 'curiosity', but I dip my chip in a milkshake and that's considered 'improper'? I'm starting to think you make up these rules to best suit you."
"Well, one should indulge in the odd act of impropriety sometimes, else I fear we'd go insane."
"So you WILL dip a chip in the milkshake next time?"
"Oh God, no. I'd rather snack on one of Sherlock's experiments." You both laughed again before silence took over, Mycroft's brain whirring as he tried to both comprehend what had happened, and work out the appropriate way to go on.
"You know, there isn't any written etiquette on how to behave after your partner blows you on the sofa." A raised eyebrow in response. "I am not calling it fellatio.." You reached over and grabbed the tv remote, flicking it back on.
"And you said you couldn't read minds.." As the screen began to power on, you heard a small chuckle from beside you.
"What?"
"No it's nothing. Just ignore me." He bit down onto two fingers slightly to compose himself; the composure being short-lived as he started off again. You tilted your head at him, urging him to speak about what had suddenly crossed his mind.
"Sorry I was just thinking about this morning."
"Bernice? Bit of a weird thing for your mind to flitter to right now, isn't it? Maybe I should be concerned you'll sack me off for her; one bit of action and you're planning to wed the nympho." You teased, loading britbox back up with the intention of continuing your filmathon- a word you used and Myc hated.. so you used it more.
"Before that. What you said this morning, after I heard you wince and ask-"
"Head.. And I said 'who knows what the day will bring'." You snickered into your hand and slouched back, resting slightly aside Mycroft's shoulder. "Speaking of that.. I do hope you're aware that I don't typically do that after only dating somebody for little less than a week."
"Usually wait two, do you?" You slapped his arm.
"Cheeky prick, I'm being serious! I don't want to make it all mushy and awkward so I'll say it, you don't respond and then we'll start up Carry On Camping. Deal?" He nodded his head slightly, bowing it towards you in gesture to continue. "Doing.. that.. and you letting me, it meant a lot. Which probably sounds weird for what it was but, and don't let this over stroke your ego, I don't feel like we've only been together a week. It just feels like we've been together for years with a random rule of celibacy that an innocent nap on the sofa broke. So.. there. I dunno.. I'm just.. proud of you? For taking that step with me.. and I'm massively looking forward to a few steps time when I can get your kit off." You coughed the last sentence with a laugh. True to his agreement, Mycroft didn't say a word. You played the next film and grinned when you felt a long arm wrap behind your back, tugging you to his form gently before warm lips pressed against your temple.
From an outside perspective, your little speech would likely seem a tad bizarre but you knew it probably meant a lot to Mycroft- the kiss on your head solidifying that fact. So you were more than willing to spurt a few awkward sentences for the sake of his reassurance; pleased that it was received well and not like some 'well done for trying' certificate you'd get in primary school for coming 6th in the sack race.
"Ooh this one has Babs in it, doesn't it? God I loved Barbara Windsor."
"Mmm. I met Dame Barbara once, a fair few years ago now. She truly was wonderful." Mycroft praised.
"Of course you met her, her last name's Windsor. You'd do anything to get to anything related to The Queen."
"Dame Barbara's surname was actually Deeks. She changed it to Windsor, inspired by Her Majesty, in 1954 following her role in 'The Belles of St Trinian's."
"Mycroft, sweetheart, I was joking. You told me you'd met her when she was given her title. I was a Barbara fangirl, I know." You twisted and pecked him on the cheek, not even noticing the petname that certainly didn't fall on deaf ears from Myc. The side of his mouth flicked up in a small smile; his hand squeezing slightly on your hip before he leaned over and spoke quietly.
"Thank you."
"What fo-"
"Shhh, film's starting." And with that, the pair of you settled into a comfortable silence, being broken only every now and then with your laughter as you watched the telly. Mycroft's smiles and light hearted reactions came from watching you much more than the film, but he didn't think you noticed. Or if you did, you didn't say a word.
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