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evangelical04 · 2 months

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A Single Daffodil || 5

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, slight smut in this chapter but not really

Author's Note: hi everyone! sorry it took so long to get this out, but I literally (finally) got my car back yesterday and wrote almost this entire thing today lol. thank you guys so much for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to get the next part out super soon but I hope this is good for you guys for now!! as always, please let me know what you guys think, I love to hear your feedback

TAGLIST CLOSED

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daises-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeomeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @wobblewobble822 @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309

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The night had given your frustration towards Yoongi some time to deflate, but you still felt it bubbling deep inside your consciousness. You weren’t one to hold a grudge necessarily, not outright at least, but you would never forget either. Joohee said that made you even more dangerous, but you liked to think it made you amicable. The next morning brought you to a lazy Sunday where you had initially wanted to bum around in your bed but the small items scattered around your floor reminded you of the tasks you had yet to finish.

Your morning was spent tinkering with your console and Blu-Ray player to get them to connect properly with your TV and the wifi, and while you struggled, you refused to ask Yoongi for help. It was a bad habit of yours, avoiding those you were mad at or were mad at you. It certainly hadn’t worked with your mother, but then again, she’d barely been home to avoid in the first place.

Thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in your head as you finished cleaning up your room and organizing everything. His behavior last night still stumped you. Logically, the only explanation was that he was jealous. Whether it was of Namjoon or you, you weren’t sure. You were too scared to entertain the thought that he might be jealous of Namjoon, the way your heart sped up was dangerous. Even if it was the correct explanation, could you even allow yourself to hope like that?

You fell backward onto your bed in a huff, it was safer to think he was just angry at you and Namjoon for getting close because it was “mixing personal lives”. Any other reasoning was going to send you down a spiral of confusion, want, and optimism. Just as you resigned yourself to a well-deserved midday nap, your phone buzzed on the bedside table next to you. Groaning out, you reached around for your phone, eventually finding it and seeing Hoseok’s contact blaring on the screen.

You swiped to answer the call, throwing the phone down next to you on speaker, “What?”

“Geez, don’t you sound grumpy.”

“It’s because I am.”

“Well, okay then, live your life, I guess. Anyway, guess what happened,” Hoseok responded excitedly.

“What?”

“The guy my old boss recommended said yes! We’re gonna start looking at studio spaces together, I’m opening up a dance school!”

You sat up, taking the phone off speaker and bringing it to your ear, “Hobi, that’s great! I can’t believe that, I’m so excited for you!”

“I can’t believe this is finally happening! It feels like this has been in the making since college,” Hoseok exclaimed, you could hear him pacing around in his room through the phone.

“You deserve it so much, Hobi, I’m so happy for you,” you smiled, and you did mean it. You knew how hard Hoseok had worked through college, surviving on a scholarship and battling down criticisms for choosing a dance major. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would succeed and you were happy to watch him do just that.

“Do you want to meet him? We’re having dinner together tomorrow and I wanted you and Joohee to be there.”

“Of course I will, I’ll need to see you guys to prep for going back to work next week anyway. Just text me the details and I’ll be there,” you responded, picking at the seams of your comforter at the mention of you resuming your job.

“Will do,” Hoseok responded excitedly and hung up after a quick goodbye.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your work, far from it in fact, but it was the questions that would inevitably come with your return that you dreaded. The glittering ring on your finger would fuel the rumor mill and lead to empty celebrations and congratulations, not to mention questions surrounding your mysterious husband.

Song Ha would probably be the only one not asking much about the wedding, but only because she attended. You hadn’t been able to talk with her during the reception, too overwhelmed and swept up in the flurry of high-profile guests. You certainly felt guilty for not having been able to see her but you knew she would understand, she was sweet that way.

No, Song Ha was dangerous in the fact that she had seen Yoongi, and she would be ready with a list of questions to ask you when you stepped into the office the following week. Once Song Ha started the questions about Yoongi, the others would only join in, adding to the pressure you felt to appear like a normal, happy bride.

Abruptly, you stood up. Now wasn’t the time for sulking and self-pity. Determined, you stomped towards the door, ready to fling it open and face Yoongi with your head held high. But as you reached the handle, your fingers curling around the edge, ready to rip it open, you hesitated.

Facing Yoongi sounded even more draining right now, the idea of his upturned frown staring down at you was less than appealing. His hot and cold attitude was taxing and you were tired of trying to understand his actions.

Coming up with explanations for his bizarre attitude and trying to make sense of his lingering gazes was less than appealing to your exhausted mind. But, you reminded yourself, this was technically your space too and you couldn’t just stay in your room the whole time. Besides, you wanted a snack and why should Yoongi stop you?

Shaking your head, you steeled your resolve and opened your door. You couldn’t hear anything coming from the living room or kitchen so you continued your venture down the stairs. Yoongi was nowhere in sight and you silently celebrated, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about him right now.

You reached the kitchen, rifling around for some chips before settling on a small packet you found tucked away in the cupboard. As you began making your way back to your room to enjoy your snack, the front door opened and Yoongi entered, running a hand through messy black hair.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake,” he said, stopping at the couch once he saw you.

You nodded curtly, “Yes, good afternoon.” You had been so close to going without dealing with him but it seemed like the universe had different plans in mind for you. It felt a little mean to be so blunt with him but seeing his stupid, perfectly shaped face ignited the remaining rage you had left in you from the previous night. Even though it was a new day, all you could think about was how he’d treated you like some child that needed to be looked after. It made your fist clench around the chips bag, the crinkling noise sounding much louder in the quiet living room.

When you continued your trek toward the stairs, Yoongi called out for you.

“Y/N,” he said, slightly louder than his normal volume, “Can we talk for a second, please?”

You turned to face him, silently waiting for him to continue. What could he possibly have to say?

“I’m sorry about last night,” he started, surprising you, “I was thinking about it when we got home and the way I’ve been acting has been unacceptable and I’m sorry that I treated you unfairly.”

You felt your eyes widen at his apology and you stuttered a response, “O-oh, it’s fine, really.” A habit of yours, to dismiss any apology that comes your way, to pretend like you were unbothered.

Yoongi shook his head, “It’s not. I was getting confused and treating this,” he gestured between you, “Like something it’s not, I’m sure that was annoying at the least for you. I’ll be sure to maintain a proper distance from hereon out, I don’t want to meddle in your life.”

You blinked back, confused by his statement, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I was acting like a husband when we’d agreed to keep ourselves separate from each other. I had no right to get upset with you or to treat you like a kid, and I’m sorry.”

“Um, okay,” you stammered, “I’m just going to go up then.”

Yoongi nodded, turning away and walking into his office. You walked up the stairs in an almost trance-like state, you had no idea what to make of that conversation.

You should be happy that he apologized but why did it seem like the outcome wasn’t what you wanted? He said he’d maintain some distance between you two from now on, that isn’t what you wanted. Or wasn’t it?

Throwing the bag of chips on your bedside table, you collapsed onto your duvet, you didn’t know what you wanted! You knew you wanted Yoongi to apologize but you didn’t want him to push you further away. You wanted him to explain why he got upset, if you were reading into things too much, if he was starting to feel something for you. You wanted him to be clear, and that conversation was anything but.

I was getting confused and treating this like something it’s not.

What did that mean? What did he mean he was getting confused? You were supposed to be the confused one.

Chips now long forgotten, you flipped over in your bed and reached for your phone, opting to occupy your brain with mindless scrolling rather than try to make sense of Yoongi’s words.

Despite how much you tried to distract yourself, the conversation with Yoongi still swirled around in your mind like a rampant tornado, hitting the corners of your brain and disrupting your every thought. You hadn’t managed to figure anything else out, you’d only been able to work yourself into a frenzy and feel even more confused.

Glancing at your watch, you noted that only a few hours had passed and it was around time for dinner, but you didn’t want to risk seeing Yoongi and spiraling once more, not that you had clawed your away out of your current spiral either.

Instead, you opted to skip dinner for tonight, not feeling particularly hungry anyway, and tried to pass the time until you felt drowsiness kick in. Your method of choice was just playing a relaxing game in your bed until your eyelids felt heavy and you drifted off in a rather uncomfortable position for your neck. You didn’t even notice yourself falling asleep, much less find the energy to fix your position to avoid a sore neck.

That night you dreamt of yourself in a dark room with no visible walls and it almost felt cold but the sensation didn’t seem like it was coming from your surroundings, it felt like it was underneath your skin.

You looked around frantically, for anything, and your eyes caught on a sliver of shiny black hair with slightly pale skin underneath. The figure reached out a hand for you and you tried to run toward it but found yourself unable to move. No matter how hard you pushed your legs, flailed, and grasped for the outstretched hand, it felt like there was an invisible wall preventing you from moving forward. In your struggle, you failed to notice the hand slowly retract and only realized once the figure started to move further and further away. You felt yourself shout after it but no sound escaped your throat.

Finally, you managed to break free from the invisible barrier and began running after the figure. Your limbs felt like lead and your lungs were struggling to take in air, but you persisted, chasing after the retreating figure and uselessly shouting for it to stop. Once it seemed like you were finally closing in on it, the ground beneath you disappeared and you fell into the dark chasm below, seeing the figure watching from the edge.

It did not try to reach out a hand to grab you.

The next morning had you feeling more grateful than ever that you still had another week off from work, although it was your last. You had awoken feeling drained and anxious, unable to remember your dream from the night prior. The only thing you did recall was falling, only because it made you wake with a start in bed at around three in the morning. You were tucked in nicely into your duvet then but it had become messy once your alarm went off later. You had set your alarm for later in the day than you usually did for work since you hadn’t wanted to get up early but also not sleep in too late.

The clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen indicated Mrs. Lim’s presence and you sleepily got dressed and walked downstairs to greet her and get some tea. She neglected to comment on your haphazard appearance and instead presented you with an already-brewed cup of tea. Smiling gratefully at her, you took a seat at the counter and made quiet conversation.

“Would you like anything in particular for dinner tonight,” Mrs. Lim asked.

“No, thank you, I’ll be meeting some friends for dinner.”

“Oh, how lovely. You should really invite them here, Mr. Min wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Lim added cheerfully.

You held back a scoff, “Yes, well, I guess I’m still getting comfortable.”

Mrs. Lim smiled kindly, “Of course, dear, I’m sure all of this is difficult to get used to.”

You weren’t sure if she was just talking about Yoongi’s apartment, but you nodded in agreement nonetheless.

“Oh, Mrs. Lim, could you actually prepare some samgyeopsal for dinner tonight? I think Yoongi is in desperate need of it,” you mentioned, recalling how tired he’d looked last night.

Mrs. Lim only smiled knowingly, nodding gently before resuming her tasks.

Your phone buzzed on the countertop, drawing your attention.

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

Joo-nie:

what’s the dress code for the restaurant tonight

do i have to break out my razor

Hoebi:

Uhhh the restaurant is kinda fancy so maybe?

Idrk tbh this dude said the place was good but it looked fancy lmao

You:

i’ll wear a dress joo, so you can too

Joo-nie:

ty queen

wear the little black one makes you look hot

Hoebi:

What should I wear to look hot

Joo-nie:

don’t show up

Hoebi:

Owie

You:

i’ll send a pic later when i get dressed

BUT it’s still minimal makeup

you guys are gonna have to see my massive eyebags

Hoebi:

They’re your most charming quality <3

You:

damn that’s a low bar

Hoebi:

See you guys tonight!! Be there at 6, don’t be late!

That was aimed at you, Joo

Joo-nie:

rude

You smiled fondly at your friends’ messages before setting your phone down and turning your attention back to Mrs. Lim, asking how her weekend went.

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly and Mrs. Lim soon went home after her responsibilities were completed. She had ended up shooing you out of her sight after you’d insisted on helping her out with the cleaning, citing boredom as the reason, but she was having none of it. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon lazing in your bed and feeling unproductive.

It was difficult to relax properly while not working because you felt as though you should be doing something else, but you didn’t have anything to do. Part of you was excited to get back to work to occupy yourself but another part of you was concerned over how easily you fell into a depressive mood. It was just another reason to start looking into therapy.

With nothing to entertain your mind with, your thoughts continuously shifted to Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him since that odd conversation where he promised to keep more distance between you, leaving you confused and lost. You still were.

He felt impossible to read. Every time you thought you were about to figure it out, he threw a curveball at you and made you stumble on your path to a logical conclusion. The more you thought about his actions leading up to and at the gala, the more they seemed to point to jealousy. The problem was, you couldn’t figure out a plausible reason he would have to be jealous. Obviously, the overarching reason would be that he has feelings for you, but he didn’t have a reason to. The man hadn’t tried to get to know you at all, you’d barely had five conversations since the wedding. How could he possibly have feelings for you?

And Yoongi didn’t seem like the type to show possessiveness over someone he had shallow feelings for, nor did Yoongi seem like the type to develop shallow feelings. In your mind, he oscillated between someone who didn’t like commitment in any form to someone who wholly devoted himself to getting to know someone before developing feelings for them. However, it was impossible for you to come to a conclusion. Just like in your own reasoning for Yoongi’s feelings, you barely knew him and there was no way for you to make these judgments.

What you would give to understand what’s going through his mind.

By the time your alarm went off at five, you were still lost in your thoughts, mindlessly playing a farming sim, mainly because your wife in there was much easier to understand than Yoongi. The alarm startled you out of your stupor and jolted you into action, scrambling things together to get ready for Hoseok’s dinner. You had showered in the morning so your hair would be dry by the time the dinner came, and you were happy you’d had the forethought.

Rifling through your closet, you pulled out the black dress that Joohee had mentioned, a form-fitting cocktail dress you’d picked up on a shopping trip with her. The square neckline complimented your decolletage and the fabric seemed to hug your curves just right, only slightly puckering around your hips. Your hair didn’t need much styling, opting to leave it natural, and your makeup was minimal, not feeling the energy to put in more effort.

You made your finishing touches, surveying your appearance in your mirror, and were satisfied. A glance at your watch told you that you were right on time, but that you didn’t have a minute to lose, so you hastened your pace to the door to head downstairs. Before you made it past your bedroom door, your eyes caught on your wedding ring, sitting on your vanity. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering whether you should put it on.

Whatever, you fumed internally, snatching it and sliding it onto your finger. It’s not like it mattered anyway but you’d grown to enjoy the feeling of the cool metal against your skin and fiddling with it when nervous.

You were somewhat surprised to see Yoongi sitting on the couch enjoying a glass of whiskey, not having expected him back from work this early. He had already changed out of his suit and into a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking like the epitome of comfort with his messy hair, likely from pulling the shirt over his head. You hated how attractive he looked and the way it made your stomach turn and your heartbeat speed up. He noticed your presence hovering at the end of the living room before looking you over, his feline eyes watching you from above the rim of his glass. His gaze made heat bloom all over your body and you could only pray that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt.

You were supposed to be mad at him, damn it.

Although, were you allowed to now that he’d apologized? But that apology wasn’t what you’d wanted, not that you knew what you wanted.

Sighing internally, you decided to remain cold with him. He’d wanted to reemphasize the distance between you two, so he’d get that.

Settling for a curt nod, you walked past him into the foyer to slip on some simple, block heels, bending down to secure the straps. Yoongi cleared his throat behind you, causing you to turn back to face him.

“Going out?”

“Yes,” you answered, pausing for a moment, pondering if you should tell him who you were meeting, considering his reaction to Hoseok last time. Maybe it was petty of you, but part of you wanted to push his buttons as much as he was pushing yours, wanted to make him annoyed and angry, just as much as you were at him.

“I’m meeting Hobi for dinner,” you finished, confidently staring him down. His eyebrow twitched and you saw his gaze narrow, but he didn’t show much of a reaction outside of that.

“Alright, have fun,” he said curtly, turning his attention back to his phone and whiskey. You almost scoffed at his standoffish attitude, but ultimately shrugged. You didn’t have the energy in you to be bothered by him.

You did a final check of your belongings before opening the door and heading downstairs to catch a cab to the restaurant, you had a feeling you’d be drinking at some point tonight. In your haste, you missed the way Yoongi’s eyes followed your form, watching you leave without a glance in his direction.

The restaurant certainly seemed fancy, it looked like Hoseok’s business partner had quite the expensive taste. You exited the cab as gracefully as you could in a cocktail dress and entered, immediately spotting Hoseok’s bright smile and energetic wave signaling you over. The hostess smiled, letting you pass to sit at the table he was at. He stood as you approached, enveloping you in a tight hug before releasing you and letting you sit across from him. As you settled in, you took the opportunity to observe his business partner, who was sitting beside him.

He was quite pretty, with a round, angelic face and plump lips, and his hair was a soft grey, tousled atop his head. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling, making them look closed, which only made you smile widely in response.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Park Jimin,” he introduced, bowing slightly.

“Nice to meet you as well, I’m Seo Y/N,” you responded, returning the bow, “Hobi has been telling me how excited he is to be opening up a studio with you.”

Jimin’s face lit up, smiling even wider, “Yes! I’m so excited, it’s the whole reason I did my MBA. I’m just hoping we can find a good studio space.”

You nodded along to his words, noticing that he tended to become quite excited when he talked, similar to the man sitting next to him.

“By the way, I love your dress,” Jimin exclaimed, startling you with the sudden compliment.

“Oh, thank you,” you stumbled, “I love your hair and eye makeup.”

Jimin smiled, which he seemed to do quite often, also similar to Hoseok, “Thanks! I wanted to try out a fancy look since I was meeting Hoseok’s friends.”

“They’re not worth the effort,” Hoseok teased, making you gasp in fake indignation, “Where’s Joo, by the way, it’s already fifteen past.”

“She’ll probably be late,” you said, trying to soothe the worry lines appearing on Hoseok’s face, “You know how she is.”

“That’s what worries me,” he responded, only making you laugh.

“I’m here! I made it,” Joohee stumbled in, speedwalking to your table before ruffling Hoseok’s hair in greeting, “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

She slides in beside you, bowing a greeting to Jimin, “Hobi’s told us so much, he’s been really excited to work with you.”

“Thanks,” Jimin laughed, “I’m excited to work with him too. Opening up a studio has always been my dream, and Hoseok feels like the perfect partner.”

You both smile at Jimin’s words before starting to fuss over the menu and throwing question after question at Jimin to try and get him to open up. Over the course of the dinner, you learn he’s fairly high-maintenance, hence the restaurant choice, but he tends to back it up himself, which he proved when he offered to pay the tab. He tells you about his time in Hoseok’s old dance studio and how he was unsatisfied, so he decided to pursue his MBA in Seoul to eventually open up his own school.

“It was a huge decision to make, I mean, Busan was my home. But I knew opening up my own studio was what I had to do, and I left everything behind to do it, my family, my boyfriend, and my job. It was hard,” he detailed, a glass and a half of wine into the dinner, “But it’ll be worth it, I just know it.”

You smiled at him, “It definitely will be. Whatever you and Hobi do, I just know it’ll take off.”

“And don’t be afraid to let me or Y/N know if you need investors,” Joohee jumped in, “I know plenty of old men with fat pockets.”

Chuckling, you all took a sip of your drinks before Hoseok surprised you with a new line of questioning, “How’s the newly married life so far?”

“Oh, did you just get married,” Jimin asked excitedly, gesturing at the ring encasing your finger, “That’s so exciting, congratulations!”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly, “I did, about a week ago. It’s been good so far, it’s nice.”

You couldn’t get into the specifics with Jimin there, someone whom you’d just met, it’d make things too awkward. Thankfully, Joohee came to your rescue.

“I meant to ask, how’s the studio space hunting going? Hobi’s been touring for that and his own apartment, he must’ve seen half of Seoul by now,” she joked, relieving some of the tension Hoseok’s question incited in you. The dinner conversation continued on pleasantly, but you felt yourself pulling away from your surroundings, your thoughts drifting to your husband.

His behavior was confounding, to say the least, and it had occupied the back of your mind for the past few months, even before you got married. It felt like a constant static itching the corner of your brain, his voice humming in a soundtrack to your thoughts.

The sound of Joohee gathering her things beside you pulled you back into the conversation and noticing they were getting ready to leave. You focused in to hear what they were talking about and learned that it was the terrible housing market in Seoul, leaving you to nod in agreement. You were lucky to score the apartment that you did, which was one of the reasons you were so reluctant to leave it, knowing that you wouldn’t have a place to go if you needed to leave Yoongi’s apartment.

You jumped in with your comments here and there as your group walked to the exit, finally feeling present again, and stopped just outside the restaurant.

“It was really great meeting you both,” Jimin said cheerfully, hugging you and Joohee, “I hope we can meet up again soon!”

“Same here,” you grinned, “We’ll make Hobi create a group chat.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes before calling a cab, “Here, Jimin, let me get one for you. Text me when you’re in your apartment.”

Jimin saluted, grinning, before entering the taxi that had stopped at the curb. He waved until he was out of your line of sight, leaving you to sigh and turn to face your two friends. They stood behind you, arms crossed, and looking at you quite sympathetically.

“What? Is this an intervention,” you joked, but they quickly shook their heads, reigniting your nerves.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear your answer earlier,” Joohee stated, “You clearly need to talk about Yoongi.” Hoseok only nodded in agreement.

You exhaled slowly, clearly, nothing was getting past your friends’ watchful eyes, “Alright, want to go back to my apartment? Hobi’s headed there anyway.”

Hobi only smiled, squeezing your shoulder before signaling for another cab.

“He’s just so confusing, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think,” you sighed frustratedly.

“I agree, I think he’s playing games with you,” Joohee said, swirling her glass before taking a sip of her wine, “He’s being all hot and cold. What is he, fifteen?”

You chuckled, “It feels like I’m fifteen sometimes, the way he makes me feel.”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s just as confused as you are,” Hoseok interjects, causing you to shift your head to look at him. He was sprawled across your loveseat in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, munching on some chips.

Joohee sat up, adjusting in her seat to face him as well, “What do you mean? He’s the one being confusing.” You nodded in agreement.

“Well, guys can be different,” Hoseok started, “Maybe he just doesn’t really understand what’s going on, this situation is new for both of you.”

You leaned back on your couch once more, considering Hoseok’s words while staring at your ceiling.

“Maybe he’s just using the distance excuse as a defense mechanism because he’s confused about how he feels about you,” he continued, “I saw the way he looked at you, Y/N. He definitely cares to some degree.”

You frowned, finding his statement hard to believe, but you tried to put yourself in Yoongi’s shoes nonetheless. Was he really developing feelings for you? Is that why he put more distance between you two, because he was scared? It felt difficult to conceptualize after the months of telling yourself there was no way Yoongi would ever harbor romantic feelings toward you.

“But still,” Joohee interrupted your thoughts, “Even if that is the reason he’s acting this way, wouldn’t that still make him immature? He should have more emotional intelligence than to send mixed signals because he’s confused about his own feelings. Either way, he needs to grow up.”

Hoseok only hummed, tossing another chip in his mouth, but Joohee’s words struck you, making you sit up from your horizontal posture.

“I mean, to be fair, are any of us really grown up,” you verbalized, making Joohee look at you questioningly, “All of us are immature in some way, and he doesn’t have any experience in this kind of situation like Hobi said. He probably went into this thinking that it was going to be more like a business partnership than anything and it hasn’t exactly been like that.”

You sighed, staring into your empty wine glass, “I feel like it’s unfair to hold him accountable for everything as if he’s some kind of villain. He still apologized and he’s been respectful. Whether he has feelings for me or not, he’s still navigating a new dynamic just like me. He’s allowed to make a few mistakes along the way, right?”

Joohee shook her head and smiled at you, “Yes, he is, but he’s still clearly hurting you. I think you guys need to talk this out. Clearly, you’re not on the same page. And even if he is just figuring out new feelings for you or not, you’re not obligated to wait around and find out. You can live your life how you want in the meantime.”

You returned her smile, “Yeah, you’re right, but I kind of feel like I already am. I don’t really have anything that I want to do that I’m not already doing. Honestly, not much has changed for me other than gaining a new, handsome roommate.”

She laughed in response before poking you, “How about going out and meeting someone? You can always take them back here. Yoongi said that he was fine with it, so you should go get laid. I know it’s been a while and you deserve the fun with someone who’s clear about their intents.”

You shrugged, “I know he said he was fine with it, but it still feels like cheating to me. I don’t know, it just makes me feel icky. I’m just not interested, really, just like before I got married.”

Joohee nodded, “Well, nothing wrong with that. I just hope that you’re not doing it because you feel like it’s unfair to Yoongi, he’s been more than clear about his consent.”

You shook your head, “It’s not that. I’d feel this way with anyone, you know how much I hate cheating. I can honestly say that even if Yoongi set me up with someone and went off with someone else, I still wouldn’t. It’s just not appealing to me right now. Maybe that’ll change, who knows?”

“That’s fair,” Joohee hummed, “You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to. I’m glad you seem good with that at least.”

You nodded, tracing the rim of your glass, “What happened to Hobi? He’s been strangely quiet.”

The both of you turned to look at the loveseat only to see Hoseok’s head hanging off the edge of the cushioned arm, mouth open letting out quiet snores.

You and Joohee giggled before standing to try and transport him to his temporary bed in your guest room. The two of you got ready for bed and soon curled up under your comforter with Joohee whispering, “I hope you get to talk to him. I want things to work out for you.”

“Thanks, Joo,” you whispered back, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Joohee only smiled and mumbled a quick, “I’m lucky to have you too. Goodnight, Y/N-ie.”

You laughed quietly, “Goodnight, Joo.”

When you awoke the next morning, Joohee had already left, having to go back to her apartment to get ready for work. She left a sweet note saying goodbye on your nightstand, making you smile.

You left Hoseok to sleep in, figuring he’d wake up when he wanted. As compensation for his stay in your guest room, you snagged another one of his large shirts since most of your comfy shirts were at Yoongi’s apartment. Rushing through a simple morning routine, you quickly gathered your things to head back to Yoongi’s apartment. You hadn’t intended to stay out during the night, and even though you had a right to, you still felt the same panic you’d felt in your childhood having to face your mom after spending time with your friends.

You scribbled out a note to Hoseok and left it out on the kitchen counter and rushed out the door, making your way to the bus station near your apartment building. It was a fairly long ride over to Yoongi’s apartment, so you settled in with some music and tried to relax your heart. You had no reason to be nervous, Yoongi likely wouldn’t have even noticed. He’d probably be at work by now, not even realizing that you hadn’t come back last night. You watched the people of Seoul through the bus window, walking to their jobs and checking their phones, likening them to what Yoongi probably looked like in the morning on his commute to work. Your fantasy was interrupted by the notion that Yoongi was probably driven to work in a sleek car and rode the elevator to the top floor.

Blinking out of your daze, you noticed only two stops were left until yours and began getting ready to get up. Once you reached, you exited swiftly, making your way inside the building and nodding at the security guard.

After taking the elevator up, you opened the front door as quietly as you could before entering and carefully closing it. You sighed as the silent house, it seemed like Mrs. Lim wasn’t here yet. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turned around to walk upstairs and were immediately startled by Yoongi sitting on the couch, calmly watching your movements.

“Oh! Yoongi-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be home,” you breathed, practically clutching at your chest, “Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” he hummed, setting his phone down to look at you, observing your frazzled state, “Late night?”

“Um, yeah, kind of,” you stuttered, “Hobi, Joohee, and I were drinking a bit.”

He only nodded, raising his eyebrow slightly, leaving you standing silently and awkwardly. You let out an awkward laugh before scooting around the couch and climbing up the stairs and to the safety of your room. Entering and closing the door behind you had you exhaling loudly and practically collapsing on your bed.

How were you supposed to talk about your relationship with him when you could barely get through a thirty-second exchange?

The rest of the week passed by peacefully with you barely interacting with Yoongi. You were almost relieved if it didn’t only put you more on edge for the weekend. You were dreading having to navigate around him being in the house for the whole day, but you were looking forward to going back to work the following week. You had had enough of lazing around and feeling unproductive, especially when all your friends were still busy so you couldn’t hang out with them. Joohee was working, of course, but Hoseok had finally settled on an apartment and was preparing to move in, leaving you quite lonely in your room.

Friday meant that Yoongi would likely be home late, if at all, because he tended to spend it with his friends as Namjoon had informed you. It left you by your lonesome in the large apartment, where you ended up lying in bed for most of it. The lack of work was really starting to take a toll on you and made you recall when Yoongi’s mother had implied that you should quit when you got married.

The idea made you laugh. If the last two weeks were anything to go by, leaving you with nothing to do during the day would only result in an extended depressive episode. A glance at the clock on your side table let you know that it had gotten late enough in the evening to grab some dinner, which you opted to order in, feeling lazy.

You ate in your room glumly watching some video or other and not really paying attention. You wondered if this weekend would be the one where you had your conversation with Yoongi. How would you even start that? What if he refused to talk to you or got defensive? If the conversation did work out, what would it mean for your relationship with Yoongi? Could you become friends?

The thoughts continued to swirl around in your brain as you gathered your dishes to deposit in the dishwasher and walked to your door. As you reached it, you noted some quiet voices on the ground floor, making your eyebrows raise. Maybe Yoongi’s friends had come?

Shrugging, you opened your door and walked downstairs, turning into the living room and almost dropping your plate in shock.

On the couch, Yoongi was on top of someone else with his hands on their face and supporting him on the couch, notably missing his ring, and kissing whoever was underneath. The sight was startling and troubling, immediately making tears fill your eyes.

You should’ve expected this so why were you so upset?

You didn’t take time to dwell on it and opted to run back to your room instead, but as you hastily turned back towards the stairs, the dishes in your hands slid against each other, making a loud noise.

The noise alerted Yoongi and whoever was underneath him to your presence, making you flinch hard.

“Y/N?”

You faced him with warm cheeks and wet eyes before steeling your expression. He didn’t need to know that you were affected, you refused to let him see you weak because of his actions. His face looked slightly shocked but his messy hair, unbuttoned dress shirt, and swollen lips made your heart hurt. The person underneath him sat up, facing you, mouth falling open in shock.

“Y/N-ssi?”

Your own eyes widened, mirroring Jimin’s equally horror-stricken expression. He scrambled off the couch, attempting to fix his rumpled top, before stumbling over to you.

“Y/N-ssi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I mean, I didn’t know-” he stuttered, grabbing your hands in a pleading manner, “I’m so sorry.”

You smiled as kindly as you could in that moment, he was just as much a victim in this as you were, “It’s okay, Jimin-ssi. Seriously. It’s complicated.”

His brows furrowed at your answer, but you could see the relief flood his face at your forgiveness, “Okay, but I’m still sorry. I’ll talk to you about it later though, it looks like you have some stuff to work out. I’ll text you, I promise.”

You nodded, mustering your best smile, and waved him off, finding yourself unable to speak much more. He quickly grabbed his phone off the table and whispered acidly to Yoongi before leaving quickly.

His exit left you staring at the floor while Yoongi still stood by the couch. He took a few steps forward but stopped once you flinched back against the stair banister.

“Y/N, I,” he started, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, we agreed about this. It’s fine,” you stated, before nodding curtly and turning to head up the stairs.

You heard Yoongi call after you but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. You could feel your eyes welling up and your lip trembling, something you couldn’t let Yoongi see. Setting your eyes forward, you stiffly walked to your room, ignoring Yoongi’s call of your name.

After retreating, you shut the door behind you, immediately crumpling to the ground in quiet cries. You should’ve known this would happen, you had even mentioned it to a degree with Joohee, so why did it hurt so much?

Maybe you had let your hopes rise after what Hoseok had said the other night and let your head fill with the idea of you and Yoongi sharing feelings for each other. Clearly, that was not the case. Whatever it was, it made your chest hurt and tears roll down your cheeks as you suppressed choked sobs.

This felt like an overreaction. What right did you have to feel upset? This was the deal from the start. He had made it clear since the beginning that you were both allowed to take partners and you had prepared yourself. So why did it still hurt so much?

Feeling your sobs subside into wet hiccups, you slowly stood, tossing your dishes onto your desk and collapsing on your bed. You felt exhausted and dehydrated, and there was a headache almost certainly in your future.

The sight of Yoongi with bitten lips above Jimin was still clear in your mind and only made you want to curl up into a ball. This wasn’t feasible.

Your mind drifted to what Joohee had said before. What was really stopping you from going out and sleeping with someone too? Nothing was, and in your hurt and angry stupor, you vowed to make good on that.

Reaching for your phone, you dug through your contacts before selecting the one you were looking for.

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Hey, it’s been a while. Are you still in Seoul? I’d like to catch up.

With that, you sighed, shutting off your phone and closing your eyes. Exhaustion quickly overtook you, leaving you dozing quietly in only a few minutes.

The next morning had you waking with a pounding headache and a dread of leaving your room. The idea that you might face Yoongi outside was more than unappealing so you opted for staying in your room. Was it the coward’s way out? Maybe, but you felt that you deserved to be a coward for a bit.

Yoongi hadn’t attempted to talk to you since your stunted conversation, there were no new calls or knocks on your door. You supposed he didn’t have a reason to, but some part of you wanted to hear him beg for your forgiveness.

However, there was one new message on your phone, part of a conversation that you barely remembered starting and had to read through bleary eyes.

Lee Jaehyun:

Hey, Y/N! It has been a while, it’s good to hear from you. I heard through the grapevine that you got married, congrats!

I’m still in Seoul, I’m actually free tonight for dinner if you’re down to talk. We can do something casual at our usual spot.

Despite the mindset you’d been in when you sent Jaehyun a message, hearing from him still brought a smile to your face. He was always sweet when you were dating and stayed that way after you’d broken up. You knew he understood the nature of your marriage and that it was likely what you were messaging him about, which it technically was.

He had always been so understanding, you could only hope that he’d understand what you wanted to do and be willing to follow through on it with you. You quickly typed out a response before glancing at the time. You still had a while to hide in your room until you could leave to meet Jaehyun.

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Sounds good, I can’t wait to see you. Does 6 sound good?

Only a few minutes later, a text from Jaehyun came in confirming the time was fine. It left you to only wait until it was close enough to six to start getting ready. You occupied yourself with anything you could, trying your best not to think about Yoongi and instead, hyping yourself up for your night with Jaehyun.

You could do this.

You made sure to shower and shave properly and donned a casual, ruched dress that you knew Jaehyun loved on you. Taking the time to style your hair and put on some flattering natural makeup, you started to feel somewhat better about this. Who says you had you stop your sex life because of this? Even though it was already on hiatus long before your engagement, but that was neither here nor there.

Touching up some last few details with your look, making sure to add a necklace that dipped into your cleavage, and double checking that you were wearing the right lingerie, you felt ready. One last look in the mirror had you feeling like a woman on a mission, and you essentially were, though not a noble one.

The thought made you cringe but you tried to wipe away any guilt you felt. Clearly, Yoongi hadn’t felt any when he’d brought Jimin home. Jimin had texted you again last night but you hadn’t found the energy to text him back yet. You’d worry about that after fucking Jaehyun.

With your look finished, you exited your room, making sure to be as quiet as possible so as to not alert Yoongi. You made it out the door successfully and breathed a sigh of relief.

You quickly hailed a cab to take you to a ramen bar that you and Jaehyun frequented while you were still dating. As you reached, the memories of your relationship flooded your mind, triggered by the warm lighting on your skin and the spiced aroma filling the restaurant. You quickly spotted Jaehyun in the usual booth you’d sat in, somehow always empty for you two even on busy nights. He stood to greet you, hugging you loosely, before gesturing for you to sit.

You noticed his eyebrow raise at your attire. You knew he knew you well enough that your appearance would tip him off somewhat to your intentions, you were slightly dreading having to explain to him your stupid idea.

“Special occasion,” he questioned, nodding at your dress, eyes narrowing in on your necklace.

You smiled, “Seeing you is a special occasion, right?”

At that he stopped, his eyes meeting yours once more, “Y/N, what are you up to?”

Your smile turned sheepish, shrugging slightly, “Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“In that dress?”

“Would be believe me if I said yes,” you joked.

He laughed, making your heart warm. His laugh was always bright and contagious, it was one of your favorite things about him.

“I’d think you have ulterior motives, Y/N. You know how I feel about that dress,” he chuckled, taking a sip of the beer next to him.

You flagged down a waiter, ordering one for yourself, before facing him once more, “I do.”

Both of Jaehyun’s eyebrows raised at that, eyes narrowing at your figure, “You know the effect you have on me, Y/N, but you’re still married.”

You held back a sigh, not looking forward to explaining your dilemma, “I am, but the rules are…loose. And you’re the only one I was interested in.”

“Y/N,” Jaehyn started, suddenly much firmer, “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”

The sudden concern made you melt, remembering why you’d loved him so much before, even though you’d dated for a relatively short amount of time. Your beer arrived next to you and you took a large sip to gain some courage.

“I’m fine, promise. This is what I want.” That probably sounded believable enough.

Jaehyun hummed, taking another sip from his own glass, “Okay, then. Let’s see where this goes.”

Jaehyun’s apartment looked almost identical to the last time you’d been there, save for some new small pieces of decor. You didn’t have much time to observe it though, from the way Jaehyun was feverishly kissing you, pressing your body up against the door.

He felt familiar and safe and the way his hands traveled down your body to slip past the hem of your dress was a nostalgic sensation. His mouth was attached to yours, kissing you without leaving you room to breathe, resulting in you gasping in breaths in the rare reprieves he did give you. He hiked up your leg against his waist before trailing his mouth down your neck, sucking a mark onto your collarbone.

Your grip on his shirt tightened as his fingers approached your underwear, tantalizing your first foreign touch in a while. Your breaths were short and quick, letting yourself swim in the sensation of Jaehyun’s breath ghosting the neckline of your dress. Your head fell back against the door, your mouth slightly open, and your chest heaving at his close proximity. The cold feeling of your necklace against your chest slowly lifted, causing you to glance down to see Jaehyun catching the pendant in his teeth and dragging it up your cleavage, shooting you a lopsided grin.

“Fuck,” you breathed, grabbing the side of his face and bringing him in for another kiss, this time more sloppy as the pendant slipped from his mouth.

“Let me take you to the bed,” he whispered, tapping your thigh, and making you jump into his arms. He carried you into his bedroom, which you distantly noted hadn’t changed much either, and laid you down on his soft sheets, resuming kissing you while reaching for the zipper in the back of your dress.

You felt his fingers travel along with the zipper down your back, erecting goosebumps in their wake, and the fabric slowly fell from your body. He lifted the dress off you leaving you in the purple lingerie you knew he enjoyed decorating your skin in sheer lace.

He grinned down at you, “Fuck, you know just what to do to me.”

He dove into the valley between your breasts and kissed down your navel, dragging his teeth along your skin. As you looked down at him, the sight of his black hair similar to another’s against your stomach suddenly made you feel slightly sick, and his veined hand and long fingers encircling your nipple had a striking resemblance to another pair of hands you appreciated.

As Jaehyun’s mouth traveled towards your center, the sickly feeling grew and you couldn’t help but feel immense guilt not only toward Yoongi but Jaehyun as well.

What were you doing?

Why were you doing this? Just to prove a point? That you can also fuck other people?

The questions made your head spin and you sat up suddenly, startling Jaehyun. Burying your head in your hands, you mumbled out apologies to Jaehyun, and maybe Yoongi too.

“Hey, what’s wrong,” Jaehyun asked, settling himself in beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you choked out, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything,” Jaehyun soothed, rubbing circles into your shoulder, “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m so sorry, it just feels so unfair to you,” you opted to not mention the guilt you felt toward Yoongi as well, “I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s stupid.”

“Why is that,” Jaehyun prompted.

“We decided early on that our marriage would be open,” you managed to say in between quick breaths and wet heaves, “Well, he decided that. I didn’t want that, I actually like him.”

This felt pathetic.

“But I caught him yesterday, with someone else. Fuck, it shouldn’t even bother me, but it does,” you muttered angrily, “And I decided I’d sleep with someone else too, just because of that. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun turned your chin toward him, making you face him, “I’m an adult, I agreed to this. I did this because I wanted to, I wasn’t expecting us to start dating again. It’s okay that you tried this, and that you clearly aren’t comfortable with it. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s so immature though, so petty,” you cried.

“So what? You can still be immature sometimes, you’re not perfect. Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you can’t make mistakes. I’m glad you stopped before you did anything you would’ve regretted,” Jaehyun smiled kindly, wiping your tears.

His words made you pause, echoing what you’d said about Yoongi to Joohee earlier that week. Your sobs dried up into short breaths and a cough, making Jaehyun get up to get you water. You sat on his bed feeling rather small and your damp underwear felt uncomfortable.

Jaehyun’s comforting still didn’t get rid of the guilt you felt but his gentle smile upon returning with a glass of water eased it slightly. You sipped it, feeling yourself calm down, watching Jaehyun ruffle through his closet before pulling out a large shirt you’d often stolen from him during your relationship.

“Here,” he said, handing you the shirt, “Wear that, you can sleep here, I don’t want you out in this state. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that in your own home,” you protested, “Let me take the couch.”

Jaehyun raised his hand, silencing you, “I’m not hearing it. Please, just sleep here and let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you nodded, lowering your gaze to the water in your lap.

“And, Y/N,” he called, making you look up at him again, “I’m glad you reached out. We can always talk, I’m always here for you.”

You smiled, feeling emotional for a new reason now, his kindness washing over you in a soothing wave, “Thanks, Jaehyun. I’m here for you too, whenever you need it.”

He grinned before whispering a quick goodnight and shutting the door behind him.

Finally alone, you sighed. What a night. You still felt guilty, though you knew it wouldn’t do much good now, and you were honestly happy that you’d stopped things before it went too far. You were doing this for the wrong reasons, and even before you’d gotten engaged, you’d had no interest in sleeping with people. What transpired tonight was clearly just an attempt to get back at Yoongi, which was unfair to all parties involved, but especially Jaehyun.

You felt a little disgusted with yourself for using him that way when he’d been nothing but sweet to you. What had you become?

Finishing your water, you stood and peeled the lingerie off of your body and slipped on Jaehyun’s giant college t-shirt. It felt a little weird to not be wearing anything but the shirt to bed, but you didn’t have much choice with your lingerie being disgusting at this point. You quickly gathered your soiled clothing and stuffed it into a plastic bag you’d found, planning to bring it home as discreetly as possible the next morning. That left you lying in Jaehyun’s bed, head still swimming with the events of the past 48 hours.

In a way, you were glad this had happened, it had given you the confirmation that whoever your partner was, no matter the openness of the relationship, you weren’t interested in dating outside of your marriage. Even if you didn’t have any feelings for Yoongi, you still would’ve felt disgusted. You could hear Joohee chastizing you in your head about how you had a right to get even and that you deserved to have fun, but this wasn’t fun to you. It wasn’t appealing in the slightest.

Despite the nightmarish evening, you felt content with where you were in your own sexuality. Maybe at some point, you would become comfortable enough to actually sleep with other people, but that wasn’t something you wanted to worry about right now.

Right now, you weren’t near ready for that. What you needed was to have that conversation with Yoongi, and, with newfound courage, you resolved to have it by the end of the day tomorrow.

With your new mission in mind, you felt yourself drift to sleep in the distantly familiar feeling of Jaehyun’s mattress and scent.

The next morning had you feeling more embarrassed than guilty at the previous night’s events, and you quietly exited Jaehyun’s room, hoping not to wake him on the couch before leaving. Just your luck though that his door creaked loudly, making him sit up from his position on the couch.

His bleary stare and messy hair made you smile as you waved a shy hello. He waved lazily with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other, taking in the sight of you in just his shirt, your lingerie and dress sitting in the plastic bag hanging from your hand.

“Damn, I really wish you weren’t married,” he slurred, likely still quite sleepy.

You laughed, walking over to him, “If I get divorced, you’ll be my first call.”

He smiled loosely, still quite tired, “Yes, do that. Anyway, you can take one of my shorts, but please let me drive you back. I’m nervous about you going out like that.”

You nodded, “Okay, thanks. For everything, seriously.” You wanted to say more, but you weren’t sure how to phrase it. The unconditional kindness he displayed to you left you speechless and only more upset that he wasn’t the one you got to marry.

The ride back to Yoongi’s apartment was fairly quiet, with Jaehyun still quite tired, as he was never a morning person. He stopped in front of Yoongi’s building, whistling at the height of the tower. You smiled and thanked him again, squeezing his hand, before opening the door to leave.

“Hey, seriously, Y/N. Call me if you ever need anything, I’m always here to listen,” he said, watching you exit his car.

“Thanks, Jaehyun. I really can’t thank you enough,” you responded, smiling at his waving off of your answer. You shut the door before steeling your resolve for what awaited you in Yoongi’s apartment.

This was going to have to happen sooner or later, but it was time to have an honest conversation with Yoongi.

And you were going to be okay, no matter the outcome.

Probably.

Yoongi was tipsy. He hadn’t seen you since last night when you’d come downstairs in the middle of him making out with some guy he’d found at the club with Taehyung and Seokjin. You seemed to know the guy, Jimin he remembers, and that made him feel odd.

He wasn’t upset, no, he felt sick in his gut that you apparently knew the person he’d chosen to sleep with outside of your marriage.

He wasn’t sure why it was so upsetting to him, you’d both decided early on to leave your relationship open. Theoretically, there was nothing wrong with what he did. But it didn’t stop the guilt that swirled in his stomach, making him reach for more whiskey.

Something about your expression, just as you’d turned around after he’d noticed you. Your eyes were teary and you were biting your lip. Your eyebrows were knotted together and he could see the tight grip you had on the plate in your hands.

Your expression made his heart clench.

It was the most emotion he’d seen on your face, and you seemed unbelievably upset. And he had done that to you.

What was worse was the way your face returned to its usual cold exterior only moments later, the epitome of calm and collected. Was Yoongi not worth becoming emotional over for you?

No, Yoongi wasn’t upset about that. No, he was upset that you felt the need to control yourself like that. Yoongi had grown up being taught to control his every emotion, his every expression, and any aspect of his body language, and it molded him into an emotionally stunted adult with only a few close friends with whom he could loosen up with.

He had done that to you.

Yoongi resisted the urge to slam his glass down on his desk. He was a piece of shit, he felt disgusting.

You hadn’t come out of your room since last night and he wasn’t sure what to do. Did you even want to see him for him to apologize? He didn’t want to message you, the fear of being ignored was too great.

Suddenly, he heard the front door open and close, and silence afterward. So you’d gone out. Fair enough, Yoongi couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t want to be around himself if he were you either.

He didn’t want to be around himself as it was.

Fuck.

He was getting in over his head. He remembered the feel of Jimin’s plush lips against his own and his skin under the rough pads of Yoongi’s fingertips, but he didn’t feel anything. It felt like he was forcing himself, going through the motions, desperate to find an answer to the confusion he’d felt since he’d married you.

In a way, he’d found an answer. Yoongi was undeniably attracted to you, and only you. Jimin was a last-ditch effort to prove to himself that he wasn’t developing feelings for you, and that had failed. Catastrophically.

This, however, brought a new dilemma for Yoongi, what was he supposed to do about it? It wasn’t fair to you for Yoongi to push these new feelings onto you after being caught with someone else. Yoongi knew that much. It’d only serve to be confusing and upsetting to you. So what was he supposed to do?

Yoongi bit his lip, hard. When was the last time he’d had feelings for someone? Taehyung? That would’ve been years ago, when they’d first met, and Taehyung had had a girlfriend at the time. So Yoongi had pushed his feelings down and repressed them until they were no longer there and Taehyung was nothing but a good friend.

But this was different. Yoongi was married to you, he had the opportunity to pursue his feelings. But what of the consequences? What if you didn’t want that? What if you were disgusted with him, now? Rightfully so, he mused.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he refilled his whiskey glass, his head was starting to hurt. New whiskey was poured into his glass but he did not drink it.

Despite the fact that he’d finally come to terms with his budding affection for you, he’d never felt more lost and confused.

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stevie-petey · 1 month

Text

but don't you remember? (august, honey, you were mine)

﹂ season four of "come home"

it's senior year and everything has changed. though steve harrington is now your boyfriend, not all of the change has been good. jonathan is gone, dustin is pulling away, the party is divided, and max's sunken eyes remind you of her brother's. all the change threatens to suffocate you. then one phone call, multiple dead bodies, and a song from your past changes everything you thought you once knew. time has never been your friend, especially when it reopens old wounds. (which only complicates things between you and steve). (and the upside down makes everything worse). (as usual).

episode one - the hellfire club: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

episode two - vecnas curse: you and billy play marco polo, max interrupts a saturday morning breakfast at the henderson household, robin crushes steves dream of becoming a 1950s housewife, reefer rick has an odd taste in movies, boathouses are creepy in the dark, and eddie munson likes it when you pull his hair.

episode three - the monster and the superhero: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

⌑ last updated: 9/22/24

⌑ season four title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr masterlist #ch season four #m's writing #holy hell we're at 4 already #my god #this season is .... a lot

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

Note

OKAY hear me out

Soft!Jason with a very touchy S/O, like we all know Jay alr has SO much trauma and he needs to constantly be touching them, making sure they're still with him, and the S/O, they're more than happy about this (LOVE LANG IS PHYSICAL CONTACT), constantly holding hands, little shoulder bumps, snuggling, forehead touches (!!!), bascially giving a Nick/Charlie vibe here but STILL

lol sorry about the long rant this thots just stuck in my head

(also can i be 🐺anon?)

Yes you may be 🐺 anon. :)

Jason wouldn’t consider himself to be a touchy person or someone who’s primary way of showing appreciation and love through physical touch like you. And yet after everything he’s been through and done, Jason finds himself extending out a hand and wordlessly intertwining your fingers together, letting out a deep sigh of relief as everything became okay again. All just because he was holding onto you.

You made everything okay for Jason.

So you knew when it was really bad whenever Jason was practically clinging onto you with no intentions of letting go. His grip was like a vice that would tighten at any signs of movement as he thought you were trying to pull away, when in actuality you were just trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, and his breathing was uneven and ragged like he had just ran a marathon without any breaks. He’d go even further by burying his face deep into your chest just so he could feel that you were alive and still with him.

It hurt you to see him like this, it truly did, and so you’d respond to his need for touch in kind by running your hand up and down his back and resting your forehead against his head, pressing kisses into it every now and then whenever you heard the sound of pitiful, soft whimpering coming from the back of his throat as you cooed softly at him gentle reminders that you weren’t going anywhere without him.

‘I’m here. I’m right here Jason, you can feel me breathing can’t you?’

‘Yeah.’ He murmurs and you press a kiss against head.

‘Then that should be more than enough proof to know that I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever and I’ll prove it everyday if I have to.’ You tell him and you truly meant what you said as the following days you would do a plethora of things to set Jason’s mind at ease and quite any and every inner demon he had that tried to make him think otherwise.

In the mornings you would snuggle yourself further into Jason. Making sure that your forehead was pressed against his, rubbing your noses together and kissing his eyelids until they flutter open to reveal his beautiful eyes, making sure that you were the first thing Jason saw and welcoming him into the morning with a soft smile and a series of kisses scattered to his cheeks, jaw and lips.

‘Good morning handsome.’ You greeted him.

‘It’s always a good morning when you’re the first thing I see angel.’ He greeted you back in kind, voice low and raspy as his hands on your lower back kept you within close proximity.

‘It looks like someone’s been reading too much Jane Austen as of late to be this romantic first thing in the morning.’ You teased, smiling more at his words as he shrugs. ‘Guilty as charged but I don’t need Jane Austen to be romantic when it comes naturally whenever I’m with you.’ You smother him in more kisses after that because you were unable to come up with anything that could compare that to.

In the evening when you and Jason were starting to settle down after an eventful day, you could often be found sat next to him on the couch as he read his book while holding onto your thigh with his free hand, his thumb would trace patterns into your skin; Whereas you would go through your phone and occasionally pressing you knee against his. It was a relaxing moment the two of you often found yourselves in that it might as well have become somewhat of a tradition; sitting in comfortable silence with one another doing your own things in tandem.

However Jason -whenever he felt you weren’t close enough to his liking- would press his shoulder against yours and lean in to press a kiss to your temple before going back to reading his book. ‘I feel like I’m rubbing off on you with how much more touchy you’ve been lately.’ You told him after a while and Jason bookmarks his place in the story and puts the book down on the table infront of you before looking over at you.

‘Does it bother you when I do that?’ He asks, feeling a little vulnerable.

‘No.’ You said without hesitation and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers together and kissing each and every one of his knuckles before resting your conjoined hands on your lap. ‘I love that you feel comfortable enough to reach out to me for physical comfort. It means a lot and I’d never want to undermine that.’ You continued and you could see Jason visibly relax as a smile graced his lips.

‘You almost scared me half to death there sweetheart.’ He says in relief. ‘And the reason why I reach out for you for comfort is because you bring me comfort and bring my mind some semblance of peace.’ He admits and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand as a silent way to echo his sentiment that he too brought you comfort. Jason smiled and brought your hand to his lips, mimicking you by pressing kisses to each and every one of your knuckles while maintaining eye contact with you; It was a simple enough action to make anyone flustered at the intensity of his seemingly never ending devotion.

‘I love you Jaybirdie and thank you for choosing me to be your safe place.’ You said softly.

‘I love you too sweetheart and thank you for being my safe place.’ Jason replied, pulling you in by your joined hands, caging you against his warm chest, as he shifted his position to lay down on the couch where you both took a well deserved nap.

No nightmares or night terrors greeted Jason that night as he help you in his arms, dreaming of nothing but you and only you and your smile. His safe place.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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alien-bluez · 10 months

Text

raahhhh guh. another lineup, s2 kiddads. i love them so much they're rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. god.

design notes for them under the cut if ur interested!

Grant

blue sweater bc blue is symbolic of titanic ep (something borrowed, something blue)

his tie color is the same color as Darryl's hat in my design

Wears Frank's watch that Darryl gave him, even if it's broken he doesn't take it off.

Green creeper socks because it's a Must. He wouldn't be Grant without them.

Sparrow

curly hair he got from mercedes' genes. he grew out his hair like lark

has a pink flower tucked in his hair like my henry's design

his jewelry and clothes are mostly borrowed from mercedes, he got really into crystals and other things like that growing up and got closer to his druid roots.

earrings are a feather and an oak leaf maybe i dunno i'll figure it out later lol

tattoos! there's supposed to be a bird outline there and other plant/nature related stuff on his arm. I'll draw it out better in the future mayhaps.

colors are brighter, more lifelike cuz he's closer to nature and all that jazz.

Lark

his hair has strands of white hair because of stress/trauma/Everything going on

hair is messier, unkempt because he cares less about appearances and doesn't have time anyways.

darker forest colors, less in tune with nature than sparrow.

his pants are the same color as my Henry's shorts :0) i needed a connection somewhere to his parents, and it just had to be henry.

Terry Jr.

purple shirt because his color is purple to me

fish motifs!! everywhere! i hc that when he and ron get closer bonding thru fishing they'd get each other fun fish printed shirts or something. This was Ron's gift to Terry. The colors of the fish are color picked from my Ron's design.

Fish tail tie and the shirt is also split like a fish tail maybe.

he's the tallest of the kiddads forever and always

Nicky

he wears glenn's sunglasses on his head

he grew out his hair long like morgan's because it's like the one thing he still really has of her. has her hair type and he takes very good care of his hair.

still has the ripped leather jacket from his time as nick and various patches of bands he likes (didn't want to draw them out yet.)

blue shirt because of his time as nicholas/reminder of jodie. blue holster belt and pants are also blue for jodie association

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dungeons and daddies fanart #dndads fanart #dndads season 2 #grant wilson #sparrow oak #lark oak #terry jr #nicky foster #kiddads #i love them all so dearly #i have so many thoughts and more things i wanna incorporate in their designs later on #nicky is my fave tho i'm so biased #ehehe i will draw more of them sometime

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jujusdiary · 5 months

Text

TILL FOREVER FALLS APART -ln4

pairing- lando norris x child hood best friend fem fewtrell!reader warning- mentions of trauma, abusive relationship, use of "kiddo" as a nickname from max to reader (idk if that's a warning lol) and use of y/n (ew ew ew sorry) genre- mutual pining, brother's best-friend, hella angst, fluff, fluff, and uhm, oh yeah- fluff. summary- after years of being apart, lando reunites with his childhood best-friend, but it's not what everyone is chalking it up to be. reminders of a past argument float up, and the reason for your absence all these years start to become more and more apparent. word count- 4.659k -- this fic was also not proofread lol bc i have no one willing to proofread these yet, so pls lmk if anyone would be interested 😽 also requests are still open and tysm for the love on my oscar post!!! Any text in orange is past/memory scenes soz if it gets confusing : )

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · keep reading !! · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

You stare off into the distance, your eyes glossy. The paddock stands like a bad memory before your eyes, and you try hard not to reminisce on the last time you stepped past that gate.

"You don't have to go in, you know that, right? You can see Lando some other time." Your brother, Max, says as he places his hand over yours. The car feels so much smaller now, as you sit there with him, the pass heavy in your hands.

"No, no. I have to go see him, i-i promised." You mutter to yourself, gulping down the fear in your throat. Last time you were here, it was over three years ago. You had been accompanied by your boyfriend at the time, Jonah, with his hand wound up around your arm tightly, fingertips digging into our flesh. You swear you can feel his fingers digging into you again, the bruises he left on your body aching all over again-

"Jonah can't hurt you, kiddo. He's far away, he can't reach you." Max reassures you, but you still have to swallow the bile in your throat as you climb out of the car and start to walk towards the paddock and the Mclaren hospitality, your legs shaky as all the memories come rushing back.

"you embarassed me, on live television !" His hand coming down to collide with your cheek. You whine in pain as your body jolts back, your arms and chest covered in bruises, your cheek stinging in pain.

"I-I'm sorry i didn't mean to ! I was just trying to congratulate Lando-" You say, shaking as you tried to back away from him. Jonah wasn't usually an angry man. He used to be sweet and tender towards you, always anxious whenever you would even so much graze your knee. But then he got angry over little things, like when you would knock things over or when you spoke a little too loud.

"Instead, you embarassed me and now everyone thinks my girlfriend is a whore !" You tried to squirm away from him, to hide somewhere and grab a phone to call someone-anyone- to help you. But his hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you back towards him, blood sprouting on your cracked open skull as it hit the table.

"Be quiet."

"Yo. Y/n ?" You were snapped back to reality, Max's hand on your back, the younger aussie driver standing before you, already in his suit. "You okay ?" You gulp heavily, meeting Oscar's confused brown eyes.

"Y-yeah. I'm good." You reply, eyes scanning the crowds around you nervously.

"O-kay..? Anyways, Lando is looking for you." He says, clearing his throat and offering you a soft smile, before walking off. Max looks down at you.

"Are you sure you're alright ? You're looking pale. It's okay if you're scared, i know Lando and you didn't leave things on great terms." He mutters. The worry for his little sister is obvious on Max's face. Lando, Max and You have been friends since the karting days, when you were there to cheer on Max and secretly crush on his best-friend. But Lando had always acted like a brother to you, so you had always assumed those feelings were one sided. So when Lando finally made it to F1 and he started asking you to come to races and acting a bit more flirtatious towards you, it angered you because you had felt alne in your feelings for years and now he wanted to act like this ? It angered you to the point of going and getting a boyfriend. Jonah. Lando and you had gotten into a fight last time you had come to the paddock. It didn't end well. That was over three years ago, at Silverstone in 2021.

"Max, mate !" The voice makes your body go rigid.

"Lando !" Max breaks away from you, envelopping his arms around the boy, patting his back. The slightest of his curly brown hair is peeking out from underneath his papaya cap, his race suit tied around his waist as he clutches unto his water bottle. His cheeks are sunkissed underneath the chinese sun, still high off of his p1 quali. His sink is tan, his eyes shimmering with excitement.

"P1, mate, congrats ! That was amazing, that was." Max congratulates, smiling at him.

"Hah, thank you ! I got scared for a second there, but i was glad when my lap was re-instated, lad, i thought it was over-" His eyes find you, and the shimmer seems to die down. You fiddle with your shirt, the mclaren logo scratchy on your chest.

"Y/n." Your names comes tumbling past his lips like a chant too long apart from him, and it's like the breath has been knocked out of your chest.

"Hi, Lan." You answer, although your voice feels to low for him to hear you. He breaks away from your brother, his eyes drinking you in, a gulp passing past his adam's apple. An awkward silence hangs between the two of you, and it makes your heart hurt as you remember how he'd greeted you last time he'd seen you.

"Lan !" You ran into his arms, letting him fling you around as he groaned, picking you up.

"Ah, there you are ! Been wonderin' where you'd gone." He'd muttered into the skin of your neck, his breath warm. His touch was welcome on your bruised body, the heavy sweater creating unnecessary heat on that day. His arms were tight around you. This was the one race this season Jonah had not joined you. But the bruise around your neck was still obvious when Lando placed you down and his eyes fluttered down.

"Darling.." His hand moved your hair away from your neck softly, frowning. His touch was featherlight on your bruise, and you jerked away from him with a flinch. "Did he do this ? Did Jonah do this to you ?" His eyes were dark. You shook your head, trying to break away from him but his grip on your waist was steadfast.

"Don't lie to me." He whispered.

"He didn't mean to." You'd mumbled, and his face fell.

"He hurt you ?" You shook your head, trying to protest, but before you could, he was ushered away to his car.

"You look.. well." He mutters, scratching the back of his neck. Max looks between the two of you. It must be odd, seeing you standing so far from each other. Usually, his hands wouldn't be off you for more than three seconds- Lando craved your touch, it grounded him. Seeing his stand so far felt foreign to Max. He pats Lando's back again.

"Alright well.. I'm going to go find P.. I'll leave you two to it." He says before walking off, shaking his head. You stare at him in silence, your chest heaving.

"How have you been ?" He asks, taking a step closer to you. His eyes are scanning your skin, looking for any trace of a bruise. The thought hits you like a truck- he doesn't know you and Jonah broke up.

"I've been okay." You answer, your voice feeling strained in your throat. He nods, pursing his lips.

"How's Jonah ?" You gulp down the bile in your throat, scratching your eyebrow. The venom in his voice is evident- your past argument clearly still salt in an open wound.

"Uh- convicted. 5 years." His jaw pops open. "Did Max not tell you ?" He shakes his head, gulping.

"No, uh, he didn't."

"After Silverstone, i... I got it together. I called the cops. He was found guilty and.. i haven't seen him since." His eyes flutter as he nods softly, his lips parting.

"What are you doing later tonight ?"

"Nothing. Probably stay in, if i'm honest." You said, laughing as you stared at Lando as he dried off his sweaty hair after his p4 finish, the towel heavy on his neck.

"Go out with me." He said, turning to look at you. You wanted to say yes, you really did. But you knew Jonah would be furious if he found out you had stepped a foot outside without him.

"I would love to, Lan, but i-i shouldn't." You muttered, but he shook his head, tutting.

"Wasn't a question. You and me, we're going out before your muppet of a brother shows up tomorrow and ruins out fun, alright ?" he said, smiling broadly at you. You scratched at your stomach, the hidden bruise on your ribs bothering you as yo sat uncomfortably on the chair, but you couldn't say anything was bothering you or Lando would be all over you.

"I'm serious, Lan, i don't think i should-"

"Nonsense. We're going to have fun."

You stared at him , your feet aching from being stood up so long.

"Should we go sit somewhere ?" Lando asks, his eyes happier than before. You nod.

"Sure." You follow him inside the McLaren hospitality, your hands shaky as you enter the place you haven't seen in three years. Everyone greets you with smiles and handshakes galore, and it makes you feel like you've been greeted home. It still feels weird that he hasn't hugged you yet, and you try not to let that bother you when you sit down on the couch in his driver's room, the door closing behind him. He turns to face you.

"I've missed you, y'know ?" He says, his voice soft as he leans against the door, his eyes looking up. "I didn't think i'd see you again after that night.. After Max told me you'd gone." He says, clearing his throat. You glance down at your hands, fiddling with the skin around your fingers.

"I didn't think i'd come back, to be honest." He looks at you, and his gaze softens.

"I'm sorry, for what i said." He says, licking his lips. You finally look up at him, and the look in his eyes makes you want to sob. "Everytime i think about it.. It makes me want to be sick. The way i treated you-"

"We don't have to talk about that." You say, begging to get away from that subject.

"But i want to apologise to you." He says, sitting next to you. "I didn't mean it. Any of it."

The music was loud, and Lando was leaning next to you at the bar. You were laughing along to something he had said, when your phone had started to ring in your pocket. Its was Jonah. Somehow he had found out you were out, and he was fuming. You were crying in a corner, hiding from Lando, from whom you had excused yourself from to answer the call. Your shoulders we shaking, your dress hiking up to your knees to reveal the bruises peppered on your thighs, the sweater you had slung over to hide the spagetti straps revealing the bruises on your collarbones was now too heavy to bear, making you sweat as you tried your best to control your breathing- yet every breath you took made your ribs ache ache and wince. You tore your sweater off, fanning at your face, relishing in the privacy to no longer hide underneath layers.

"Darling ? Are you in here ?" You tensed up at his voice. You wiped the runny mascara off your cheeks, forgetting you had taken your sweater off. Lando turned the corner, and his jaw almost dropped when he saw you.

"Jesus, Y/n. What has he been doing to you ?" You frowned, before looking down at yourself, the music from the club outside still thrumming on the floor. Your eyes went wide as he took a step closer to you grabbing your arm softly and looking at the bruises peppered on your body. You shook your head, new tears forming in your eyes.

"N-No, i'm just clumsy, I walked into a wall and i bumped into a few tables. You know how i am, Lan, it's nothing-" He shook his head, cutting you off.

"Don't lie to me, darling. I'm sick and tired of you being scared of doing things that you think he would see as out of line. You've changed, Y/n. You're not the same anymore, you're too preoccupied with what he thinks of you, of what he wants you to do." You frowned at his words. It was obvious he was drunk, his words were slurred, but he had had enough. Lando had loved you for years, not that the believed you loved him back, and the second he got into f1, Max had given him the green flag to go ahead and make a move, having placed a heavy hands off for most of your life. But his relentless moves onto you just seemed to anger you, and he didn't seem to understand why- so it's safe to say he was confused when Jonah appeared at the paddock with you, out of the blue. He tried to play it off, to act happy for you because you were happy and that was all that mattered to him. But when he saw you start to be more scared every time anyone lifted their hand or arm, or how you wore heavy and covered clothing even on the hottest of days- he knew something was wrong. Especially when you stopped hugging him before races, especially when Jonah was around, he was convinced something was wrong.

"You're not yourself anymore - You're scared of everything, you're nervous, you look like you don't want to be around me, and you're always doing whatever fucking Jonah wants you to do. Im sick of it. I'm sick of it, i'm tired of seeing you upset all the time." You gulped down tears, and Lando knew he was saying the wrong things. He couldn't tell if he was being rude, the alcohol too heavy in his veins, fogging up his brain.

"Why are you acting like this ?" You mumbled, shaking your head. His words were hitting you, deep. You knew he was drunk, but aren't drunk words simply sober thoughts ?

So Lando really thought you were a push over and you were just giving in to Jonah ?

Letting yourself get hit ?

"Because i love you, goddammit ! I've loved you since we were kids but i couldn't do anything about it because of your brother, but then when he gave me the green light, I was going to go for you- But then you brought fucking Jonah !" His words knocked the air straight out of your chest. He loved you ?

" And i knew he was off- I knew something was wrong with him. The second i saw you act weird, especially to me, i knew something was wrong and now i know !" He yelled, pointing at your bruises. "He's been hurting you, y/n, and you've been hiding it ! God, you should've told me ! All i want is to protect you, darling."

"Lan, you're being mean.."

"Mean ? Mean ?! I'm trying to help you because he's obviously not a good guy but you're too scared to do anything about it, so you've stayed with him for three years !"

"You don't think i know that ? You don't think i've tried to get away ?I have, Lan ! Ive tried to tell you and Max, anyone, but i knew you would act like this and i was scared of what you would do ! What do you think this entire weekend was about ? I was trying to have one good moment before i went back there and ended things with him and filed a restraining order against him !" He tensed up as you yelled back at him, tears streaming down your face. "You think telling me that i've been letting him do these things to me is going to make me fall for you ?"

His face fell, and he suddenly realised that he had made a big, big mistake.

"No, Y/n, that's not what i-"

"Well it's not. And to think i came here all this way for you, putting my ass on the line because who knows the things he will do to me when i get back." You screamed, your throat yelling at you with every raise in. your tone, your voice cracking.

"Then stay. Don't go back, stay with me." He begged. He could tell you wanted to, but his earlier words were still stinging your heart. You shook your head and slipped your sweater back on. You pushed past him, but he gripped your arm.

"No, please, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to yell." His eyes were pleading. "You know that's not what i meant. Please, love, i'm not in my right mind- Just stay until morning and i'll explain it t you when my head isn't moving at three thousand thoughts a minute- Please." You could tell he was drunk. But you still felt sick just looking at him.

"Well it's too late now isn't it ?" You mumbled, before breaking free and running off.

You were on a plane out of the country before Max's had even landed.

"Not any of it ? Wow, okay." You ask, feeling that same prickly feeling in your throat as you did that night.

"Well i meant one part." He says, looking down at you. " I do love you."

"Lando, can we not do this, please ?" He shakes his head.

"But i want to. I don't like knowing you're mad at me-" You stand up, shaking your head, sniffling.

"I didn't come here to hear a half assed apology, Lan. I came here to support you because you're my friend and i missed you, for some reason. But if you're just going to toy with me again, and remind me of things i'd rather forget, then i can't do this." You say.

The thought of anyone genuinely loving you feels suffocating after Jonah.

It makes you sick to even think of being in such a vulnerable state again.

"I promise, i'm not-"

"I'll see you at dinner." You mutter, your chest heaving up and down in panic. He frowns as you move past him and leave his room storming out into the sun to find Max, your mind reeling.

Dinner is not going to be enjoyable.

❀❀❀

The dress is uncomfortable against your ribs, gulping heavily. The car is quiet, Pietra sitting beside you, Max in the front passenger seat near Lando. You try to avoid his eyes darting over to you at every red light, but it's getting painstakingly hard when his breathing gets heavier each time you look down to avoid his gaze. Pietra is scrolling mindlessly on her phone, her head resting on your shoulder as the car trudges past the streets. The restaurant Lando pulls into is fancy, with a valet at the door who takes the car off of his hands as you climb out. Pietra grabs your hand, talking happily about something as max softly touches your shoulder to make sure you're alright.

It feels weird- Wearing a dress and not having to cover a bruise.

You blink hurriedly and let Pietra drag you into the restaurant behind Lando and your brother, leading you to the table. She sits down beside you, Max sitting down infront of her, leaving Lando to sit down infront of you. You gulp and cats your eyes down, trying to include yourself in the conversation happening between your brother and his girlfriend, but it's all batting eyelashes and hand holding. Lando;'s foot nudges your calf. Your eyes snap over.

"Can we please talk-"

"Hi ! What can i get you tonight ?" Lando looks up at the sudden interruption. It's a young waiter, a large smile on his face.

"Uh, we haven't looked at the menu's yet-"

"Oh that's fine, would you like anything to drink ?" Lando's jaw tenses.

"No, it's fine we'll let you know when we're ready-"

"Well, i can offer you some specials ! We have cocktails with free refills, a wine cave that has been critically acclaimed for it's diversity-" Lando's fist comes smashing against the table. You flinch, the suddenness of it all making you jump. Max even looked over at the commotion, his brows knotted in confusion. Lando didn't get angry- at least not that angry. And he did, he'd be more likely to stay angry in silence until he' s calmed down enough to rationally discuss why he was angered in the first place.

"For fucks sake, can you give us a minute !" The young boy stammers, gulping heavily.

"Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The boy backs away, his hands shaking. Like how your hands shook as you dialed 9-1-1 from the hidden safety of your bathtub, bleeding from five different areas, Jonah having left to "clear his head" after beating you to a pulp.

Your eyes are wide in fear, your stomach churning with bile. Max seems to notice and he nods at Pietra, who places her hand over yours tentatively, your eyes trained on Lando, who is staring at you aswell.

"Y/n-" The second her hand touches yours, your body goes into fight or flight mode. You shove her off, leaping to your feet, your chest heaving, your chair groaning loudly on the floor. Everyone in the vicinity has turned to look at you. Max's eyes are wide, knowing the reason for your sudden change. You feel cornered, like every eye pouring into you is Jonah's- taunting you, promising to hurt you. Your eyes dart to Lando, who is staring up at you with worry in his eyes. You shake your head, a whimper forcing it's way out of your lips before running off, your heels clicking on the floor as whispers follow you.

"Y/n !" You hear Lando call, but you're already pushing open the door of the bathroom and locking it behind you after checking no one else was in the stalls. The second you're in privacy, tears start flowing down your cheeks, your hands clawing at your chest to get some sort of air into your lungs, the only thing keeping you up being the iron grip your free hand has on the small porcelain sink.

"Okay.. okay, breathe, Y/n. Jonah is far- He can't hurt you. He can't. He can't." You tell yourself through the rapid fire tears coursing down your face, making it hard for you to see or breathe.

"Darling ? Are you in here ?"

Deja vu hits you so hard you almost stumble backwards.

"I'm sorry, love, i didn't mean to yell."

There it is again.

"Will you please open the door ?"

His voice is so soft, so comforting, you don't even think. The lock comes clicking open and before you know it you're wrapped up into his arms, pushing you back into the bathroom, his voice muffled into your hair as he holds you close, apologising profusely. His hand is pinned to your waist, the other buried in your hair as your hands come to squeeze around his torso, his lips kissing your temple.

"Fuck, i'm sorry. I'm so sorry. God, i'm so sorry, Y/n." He breathes, gently rocking you back and forth. You nod against his chest, relishing in his touch. This is the first time in three years he's held you close.

"I'm sorry about the fight, i had no idea how bad it was, y/n." he pulls away, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him. "I never should've said any of those things. God, you're so strong for even thinking of getting out, my love. He never deserved you, and you never deserved to be treated that way, even less for me to be a dick about it because i was drunk and hung up over you." he peppers kisses all over your face. "And i'm so sorry for yelling just now, really i am, I just felt so bad because you wouldn't even look at me, and i got carried away and-" he stops himself when he realises he's rambling. "I'm sorry." He says, his tone stern. He brushes a strand away from your face, your hands resting on his torso as he stays cupping your cheeks.

"If I could take back that entire fight, I would. Please.. Don't ever leave me again." he begs, his voice cracking as his own tears fill his eyes. "It's been hell without you, Y/n. And knowing it was my fault you stayed away just makes it worse." He says. You lick your lips, and you look up at him through tear-soaked eyelashes.

"You promise you love me ?" Your voice is wobbly. The thought of hearing him say those words again makes you sick yet excited.

"Baby.. I've loved you since we were six. Of course i love you - i'll never stop loving you. And i can love you how you deserve to be.. if you let me." He says, his eyes scanning your face. He awaits for your answer, cleafly impatient. He chuckles softly.

"i really don't mean to push, y/n, but you're killing me here-"

You cut him off, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, your hands finding the soft yet gelled tips of his curls, digging your fingers through them like how you used to fantasise when you were teenagers. His hands grab your waist possessively, pushing you up against the door, settling his knee n between your thighs to keep you up as he focuses on cupping your cheeks and kissing you long and hard, as much as he can, relishing in this moment. A soft whine is pulled from your lips as his hand softly settles around your neck, tilting your face up to get easier access, your smaller frame fitting into his tall one with ease. After a while, he finally pulls away to let you breathe, his hands strong on your hips, your own buried in his hair.

"Fuckin' hell." He pants, his forehead resting against yours. You nod, your eyes shut closed. Secretly, you're scared to open your eyes, because you think he might disappear if you look at him for too long.

"Does this mean you forgive me ?" He asks against your neck, his breath hot on your nape, his lips trailing your jaw. You slap at his chest as you laugh, your eyes opening. He laughs, shaking his head as he kisses along your jaw and collarbones.

"Yes, it means i forgive you, you muppet." You laugh, burying your face in his chest as he kisses your temple.

"God it feels so good to hold you." he mutters, his voice groggy. He cutches you tighter, kissing your nose. You scrunch it up, smiling.

"Y/n ? You in here babe ? Max is really worried, and -" The door comes flying open and Pietra stumbles in, taking in the scene before her- you and lando, both of your lips swollen, Lando's smeared with lipgloss, his curls a mess, his head buried in your neck. You try to shove him off, scared at the sudden exposure of his affection. A sudden jolt of fear courses through your body. God, if Jonah saw you and Lando so close, he would kill you- But then it hits you. Jonah actually can't hurt you.

"Hi, P." Lando smiles lazily as he kisses your forehead and pulls you in, refusing to let you go. Pietra smiles broadly.

"Oh. My. God. Max is going to flip !" She says, laughing. She runs off, ready to go tell Max as Lando finally breaks away from you and slips his hand in yours. He looks up at you, wiping the fallen tears off your tears and kisses your knuckles.

"Mine ?" He whispers. You smile, rolling your eyes.

"Yours." You reply. He smiles, tugging you along to the main room, where the restaurant seems to have continue past your earlier outburst. Max's eyes almost bulge out of his head when he notices your hands intertwined, and for the first time in a while..

It feels good to be vulnerable.

It feels good to be loved.

a/n- YALL I LOWK HATE THIS SOMEONE PLS CONVINCE ME OTHER WISE 😭 ( ALSO YAY LANDO WIN- OBVI A FIC IS COMING UR WAY THERE'S ALSO LIKE THREE OTHERS IVE BEEN WORKING ON SO STAY POSTED FOR THAT UHHHH REQUESTS ARE OPEN AS ALWAYSSSSS)

#formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #angst with a happy ending #fluff

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after-nine-at-the-oasis · 2 years

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I will never get over 1x08 (yes it's because of wopez)

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nightcolorz · 3 months

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I would love to hear your thoughts on autistic Armand, if you haven’t already spoke about this! Imo he’s very autsitic coded, and it’s very precious to me as an autistic iwtv fan :]

OMG!!! RUNS AROUND. Yes lmao I talk about this a lot actually it is one of my favorite Armand things to meta about bcus I’m also autistic and he is my special interest🙏I was trying to find some of the stuff I’ve written about autistic Armand but tumblrs search engine makes it near impossible to find anything so I gave up 😭, but believe me they r out there. Even tho I talk about this a lot I would love love love to talk about it some more for u anon because I can never get enough of armandtism.

I first figured Armand was autistic when I was reading the vampire Lestat because when he is first introduced he is completely non verbal and only communicates through the mind gift. through further explanation it’s very much implied that he does this because he finds putting his thoughts into words hard and he considers just projecting them into peoples brains much easier. Armand speaks out loud for the first time like more than halfway through the book, and lestat is surprised to hear him lol. This is super autistic I feel like that’s obvious 🙏 it’s basically the vampire power equivalent of using a non verbal communication device. Armand having trouble with connecting with people, understanding how to “fit in”, and talking r prevailing parts of his character throughout the whole series (not just tvl) which solidified my headcanon into basically a canon fact in my mind lol.

When Armand is first introduced in iwtv his strangeness is chalked up to his vampirism, but it’s soon revealed throughout tvl and qotd that Armand is considered a strange outcast by other vampires. The things he struggles with r unique to him and r not representative of vampires in general. His otherness/strangeness can also not be chalked up to his trauma or his age turned because Armand was also an outcast as a young child. It’s described in the vampire Armand that Armand was not understood by his parents or his community because he was obsessed with and freakishly good at painting. His community interprets his unusualness as a sign of some divine intervention, the priests believe he is a saint or a prophet sent to earth, even at times saying things implying that he is “not human”. Unusually high quickly developing skill in childhood is an autistic trait, as is hyper fixation on an activity/topic that becomes a core identity factor and prevailing obsession. The affects of Armand’s trauma only worsen the severity of his autistic traits. C-ptsd and autism often overlap and coexist in autistic people who were traumatized in childhood, which seems to be Armand’s case.

in queen of the damned Armand is at his peak autistic lol, I feel like this is when most book readers gain that head canon. The Devils minion chapter revolves around Armand using Daniel as a guide to help him learn how to be “normal” and to blend in to the modern age. Armand can’t seem to figure out how to blend in on his own because he is unable to understand social norms of any time period enough to integrate himself into society. Armand is in love with technology and what most would consider monotonous sensory experiences. He stares at his own reflection for hours, he loves kitchen appliances and watching ingredients whir in blenders, cameras, he watches the same movie over and over again and never gets bored of it. The way Armand fixates on technology really reminds me of how a lot of autistic people played as children. He enjoys repetitive, sensory behaviors over “fun”. For Armand this means watching the same things repeatedly, which is a form of visual stimming. There r moments where Armand is trying to understand his world, but is so blind to what he is trying to understand that he goes about his discoveries wrong. Such as in qotd when he tries to interrogate strangers to gain information on societal norms but he only gets uncomfortable glances. Armand is desperate to understand and to connect but he is consistently inherently alienated, whether it be from humanity or from other vampires or from himself.

Armand also can not process his memories comprehendingly. This is part trauma part autism, but autism is def a factor. Because of his repressed trauma induced memory loss Armand finds it difficult to talk about himself to people. This is worsened by Armand being unable to comprehend the aspects of story telling that he needs to be able to tell people about his life. Armand explains to Daniel that he vividly remembers small details, such as dates and weather, but he could not tell Daniel what “things were like” because he “doesn’t know what that means”. Literal thinking, the inability to grasp vague, fiction based concepts like narratives and metaphor, and strict fixation on minor details like numbers, are all autistic traits!

Armand also struggles heavily with emotional regulation. He is described as often having intense and extreme meltdowns where he cries and screams and breaks things. Armand is easily bothered, in tva he mentions that he covers his ears when he is overwhelmed. The vampire Armand begins actually with Armand becoming overwhelmed in public and trying to escape to an attic so that he can be alone in silence. Armand copes with his intense emotions by putting on a mask of neutrality. He is often described as expressionless and blank, uncanny. But this is a mask, and when Armand can no longer mask and his disguise lapses his facial expressions r described by lestat as being so over the top and emotional that they are disturbing and weird. Over the top unnatural facial expressions as well as blank unreadable ones are both autistic traits. For Armand he is naturally overly emotive to the point of being considered horrifying, and he hides this by taking the opposite extreme. Either way, either expression Armand puts on causes him to be socially outcast.

Armand often describes feeling like there is something wrong with him that causes him to be isolated from others and he’s not sure what it is. In prince lestat he tells Gregory that he doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to have relationships when other vampires are fully capable of doing that. In the vampire Armand he explains to David that he’s crazy because his mind isn’t built right and his senses are tripled so he shouldn’t bother trying to understand him. I rlly relate to this as someone who felt like I was from another dimension as a child bcus i didn’t know the unspoken life rules everyone else did.

Armand is often treated like a child by the other vampires and assumed to be emotionally immature and too fragile and insane to be helpful. Armand says in the vampire Armand that he doesn’t consider himself an adult because he can’t function like one. This could be due to the age he was turned, but it’s shown to us that characters like Benji and even to an extent Claudia r able to self regulate and function appropriately despite being turned even younger then Armand was.

in conclusion, book Armand is an autistic person who was never given proper support or understanding because the environment and the time period he was born in decided to alienate him further rather then work to help him socialize and learn appropriate skills, and because of the necessities he has been deprived of and the horrible trauma he endured Armand is never able to learn to function in the way he was likely capable of. this recessive quality in pair with his autism caused Armand it be unable to cope or self regulate or learn ways to understand himself since he wasn’t given a chance to in his formative years. He’s a great representative of what many autistic people who experienced intense child abuse experience.

Im rlly happy with the shows portrayal with Armand so far partly because he is omg, so autistic. Show Armand shares so many of book Armand’s autistic traits. inability to understand himself or others, fixation on small details but inability to understand the big picture, etc. even his iPad is autistic asf! My ipad is my comfort item that I carry around with me to self sooth, and this is def the vibe Armand’s iPad gives me in the show. Even assads performance is autistic! He is able to play Armand masking and Armand unmasking, the stilted expressions he gives and the blank stares, the uncomprehending earnestness. AGHHHH!! Assad stims with his fingers when Armand is nervous too which is just an amazing touch. I hope the show explores Armand’s autism, because that would literally be a dream come true. Even still, for now I’m satisfied.

thank u so so much anon for the ask this made me so happy 🙏❤️ autistic Armand means so much to me and has gotten me though some tough times. Understanding and analyzing Armand helps me understand myself better and feel more comfortable with how I am. Earlier this year I gave myself a concussion because I was harmfully stimming during a meltdown, and while I was in the emergency room I was holding the vampire Armand and imaging that he would relate to what I was going through. So yeah he is very special to me too! And once again it makes me so so happy that u got me to talk some about it. I hope this was coherent or interesting lol I felt like I was all over the place

#tvc #the vampire chronicles #armand #vampire chronicles #vc #iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #the vampire armand #Armand #armand iwtv #armand tvc #iwtv Armand #amc interview with the vampire #Armand le russe #vampire armand #The vampire lestat #Queen of the damned #the devils minion

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haodarling · 2 months

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Like the Movies

about: a series of my favorite movies reimagined with (some of) the boys of seventeen.

notes: the movies inspired the fics, please don’t expect it to be an exact word for word reenactment of the films; i had a couple of ideas and decided to roll with it. unfortunately i will not be doing all of the boys as some of them are key side characters unless specifically requested! the stories are interrelated in some way; it won’t be explicitly stated but try and look for crumbs!

also! most if not all the y/ns in the fics are directly stated to be female due to some of the stories heavily relying on y/n’s biological sex to be female.

currently working on: pretty girl !

Pretty Girl

based on: Legally Blonde

pairing: law student! joshua x heiress! reader // ex boyfriend! wen junhui x reader

synopsis: the youngest of 3 successful sisters, no one expects you to accomplish anything save for sitting still and looking pretty, but after your boyfriend dumps you for a much more educated girl, you get your eldest sister to pay your way into harvard law where you meets joshua hong, who does not seem to appreciate how lightly you takes things.

tropes: opposites attract, popular girl x nerd boy but with a twist, they start off at the wrong foot, it gets resolved, joshua will say hurtful things along the way though

A Sweet Haven

based on: Notting Hill // Maid in Manhattan

pairing: golden retriever!mingyu x single mother!y/n

synopsis: never in your wildest dreams did you expect acclaimed actor, kim mingyu, to stumble into your quaint bakery and ask you to hide him from the onslaught of paparazzi. what began as one chance encounter turns into constant visits to you and your daughter. but just as you begin to see a future between the two of you, the reminder of his fame and reputation hovers over the both you.

tropes: forbidden romance, single mom! reader, mingyu’s an actor, secret relationship

Hot and Cold

based on: Pride and Prejudice // Emma

pairing: wonwoo x reader, seokmin x oc

synopsis: as the eldest child of your family, you have only ever wanted the best for your siblings. so when your sister confesses to being in love with someone— you do everything you can to make sure they both end up together… but the infuriatingly handsome brother of your sister’s beau seems to be against the union altogether.

tropes: enemies to lovers, they really don’t like each other at first, just two people being protective of their younger siblings, elder sibling trauma written by an only child LOL

Mr and Mrs. Choi

based on: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

pairing: agent!scoups x agent!reader

synopsis: you and seungcheol (code name: scoups) have a bit of a work place rivalry going on, and the agency wants to put you both to the test by pairing you up with each other in a mission that would determine who gets the promotion… the catch being that you both would have to play a married couple.

tropes: rivals to lovers, technically also coworkers to lovers, fake marriage au, a lot of back and forths, cheol is a teasing lil shit with y/n, will very much include the old “the target is gonna notice we’re tailing him hurry let’s make out”

Love Me Tomorrow

based on: 2 week’s notice // flipped

pairing: jeonghan x reader

synopsis: your friends and coworkers say you’re foolish for harboring a crush on the worst man ever; aka your boss. yoon jeonghan is a successful ceo, and he is well aware of the hold he has over you; often using you to perform minute and tiresome errands. but what happens when you finally draw the line?

tropes: unrequited love (initially), she fell first but he fell harder, hannie’s an asshole here ngl, he gets better i promise, y/n is on a path to self love, when hannie realized he loves her he’s so pathetic i swear

Something Borrowed, Something New

based on: My best friend’s wedding

pairing: minghao x extraverted!reader, slight vernon x reader, and slight minghao x oc

synopsis: you love your fiancee you truly do, and you were very sure he felt the same long enough to propose to you; but he’s quiet, and well- you’re not. you know this, and so you always make sure you are not too spirited in days where he doesn’t feel it. but when he runs into his old college friends, you could not help but notice how he becomes a lot livelier with his childhood best friend.

tropes: established relationship, opposites attract, golden retriever y/n and black cat minghao, angst, like a lot of it, hao has a girl best friend :(( , two people who don’t communicate because of their own personal reasons

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #angst #fluff #suggestive #svt angst #svt fluff #svt imagines #scoups x reader #joshua x reader #jeonghan x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #the8 x reader #like the movies — satin #minghao x reader

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paradiseprincesss · 3 months

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grave | jonathan crane

i wanted to write something a little more on the "romantic" smut side lol. anyway, i will start to post the song drabbles/requests tmr if i have time. ok that's all!

summary: you decide to show jonathan how much you love every part of him, including the parts of himself that he hates.

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m!receiving), mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of depression (sort of?) MDNI 18+ ONLY

word count: 2.1k

masterlist

jonathan vowed that he’d never believe in a higher power so long as he lived — he could thank his childhood woven with religious trauma for that.

but theoretically, if he was to believe in a celestial being, his first answer would be you.

in his eyes, you were a goddess walking amongst the rest of the people on this earth. every detail about you had jonathan ready to sacrifice his sanity — he couldn’t wrap his head around how you of all people could possibly love him.

you were like the glue that held his tattered heart together as a whole.

when you found out about scarecrow, he was certain you would run for the hills. abandon him and vanish without a trace — leave him with a broken heart, watch him drown as his feelings swallowed him whole, but you stayed.

he’d suffer in silence, paranoia eating him alive as he tried to keep the ugly part of him far, far away from you but it seemed you didn’t find the alterego of scarecrow ugly at all. in fact, you found it rather wonderful how passionate he was about fear.

fear is a fascinating thing, isn’t it?

even the ones who have an utmost control over their phobias have a fear of something deep down, and jonathan’s was losing you. he was well known to those around him as calculated, cold, and even cynical, but to you, he was an absolute angel.

“tough day at work?” you asked softly, looking up from your phone as you heard him sigh, swinging the front door open. “i made dinner for you, honey.”

as jonathan tossed his suit jacket onto the couch, he stopped and looked at you — ethereal, that’s what you were. after a hard day of work, he was blessed to come home to you. someone who cared about him so deeply despite his flaws and rigid edges.

someone who loved him despite how much he hated himself — not everyone is that lucky, he thought.

“yes — thank you, my darling.” he said softly, placing a fleeting kiss on your head as he made his way to the kitchen.

later on in the evening, after dinner, you joined jonathan in bed after a long shower. he admired you as he looked up from his book, taking in the heavenly body getting snug into bed beside him.

he sighed as he watched you run your manicured hand through your freshly dried hair, the strap of your silk nightie slipping off your shoulder slightly. you looked over at him, smiling sweetly as you crawled into his lap and put his book down on the bedside table.

every time jonathan felt like he was hard to love, he reminded himself that if he was really as bad as they made him out to be — he wouldn’t have you.

my, you made his life — he’d be just fine if his blood stopped flowing. at least he had the privilege of loving you and that was enough for him to die happy.

“you’ve been working a lot.” you said softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. the small action made jonathan’s heart flutter — since when did he become so soft? “i’m proud of you and everything you do.”

it almost felt like jonathan’s heart had been shocked with a defibrillator in that very moment — like he was alive again. every word you said, he hung onto. you were the one person who believed in him; who loved him for who he was.

“you make me so happy.” jonathan confessed, trailing his hands on your skin as he looked at your hand — and the ring on your finger. a symbol of a forever commitment, a love that was everlasting. “my darling wife.”

“you look tired,” you noticed as you placed a kiss on his cheek, “have you been sleeping enough lately?”

“no, i haven’t.” jonathan said with a deep exhale, his blue eyes piercing right through your soul. “work is exhausting me, and the shipments from falcone…”

“i know,” you whispered, brushing your thumb across his cheek lovingly, “i love you.”

and though all things work and scarecrow related were slowly draining the light from jonathan, as long as he had your arms around him, he knew he’d come out unscathed. he'd never been this happy — never felt so alive.

his earliest childhood memories were filled with trauma, but it was almost like you made him forget what suffering felt like. jonathan would go through a lifetime of pain if it meant he could keep you here, in his arms, forever.

“i’m always going to be here, forever by your side, jonathan.” you reminded him softly, watching as his icy eyes started to water slightly.

because without you, there was no jonathan. just “doctor crane” and “scarecrow” but no jonathan. if he didn’t have you, then just bury him — death would be easier.

even though his dreams were violent, plaguing him nightly, and work made him feel like his mind was about to split — he clung onto his sanity because of you. every disgusting part of himself that he absolutely loathed, you adored. you saw to the depths of his soul.

perhaps if it wasn’t for you, he’d be in the grave by now. six feet under without someone to walk through the pains of growing with him.

“i love you, too.” jonathan said softly, his voice dripping in adornment and vulnerability. “i’d be so lost without you.”

his hands reached up to the strap of your slip, already hanging off your shoulder, as he pushed it off completely. he did the same to the other side, delicately unwrapping you like a priceless gift.

you put up no fight, letting him do as he pleased. it was like being in the presence of an angel everytime jonathan was near you, let alone touching you. you were his deep end, the part of him that kept him breathing.

“wait,” you whispered, causing jonathan to pause as a look of confusion flashed over his features, “i want to try something different.”

jonathan nodded, letting you take the reins. something was certainly in the air tonight. you crawled off his lap, and instead, got comfortable between his legs. you reached your delicate hand up to the waistband of his pyjama pants, looking up at him for silent approval.

usually, jonathan was in charge when it came to the bedroom, but it felt right to let you lead. most of the time, the sex was leaning towards the rough side, but like i said, the atmosphere was a polar opposite of what it usually was tonight.

“i need you,” jonathan urged, “just touch me, please—”

you tugged down his pyjama pants gently, and his hard cock sprung out. he was painfully hard from the moment you’d straddled his lap earlier — it was like everything you did had an effect on him, no matter how simple the action was.

gently, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him gently before you place your lips on the tip. jonathan let out a choked moan as you took him into your warm, wet mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length as you stroked him.

you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, effortlessly causing him to become weak as he let out a mixture of moans and quiet, held back whimpers.

“darling,” he breathed out, “feels so good, fuck—”

you hummed around his length, playing with his balls gently as you continued to suck his cock. gently, you pushed your head down as far as you could, gagging around him as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. jonathan let out the loudest moan yet, bucking his hips up gently.

“yes,” he groaned, “you’re so good at this, doll.”

the praise kept you going, your eyes watering as you continued to take his cock down your throat like the good girl you were. as your lips stayed wrapped around him, his hands reached for your hair, tangled in it as he pulled it gently.

as soon as you felt him tense up, you took his length out of your mouth with a pop. as much as you loved having him cum down your throat, you wanted to feel him fill your insides with it instead. once you looked back over at jonathan, his eyes were wide and he looked like he was in pure awe at you.

he was — how could you look so angelic doing the naughtiest of things?

slowly, you took the nightie off of you, slipping it over your head as his pale blue eyes darted all over your body. every inch of you was designed for jonathan, handmade for him and his love. you kept your eyes focused on him, making sure he was watching you watching him.

once you were clothesless, you crawled over onto his lap again, straddling him as you lined the tip of his leaking cock with your drooling cunt. the room was quiet, the only sounds to be heard was the rain hitting the windows outside. but alas, it was the most romantic, peaceful atmosphere you’d been in.

slowly, you sunk down onto his thick cock, throwing your head back as you felt fuller and fuller by the second. jonathan let out a breathy moan, and you whimpered as he stretched you out fully. once your ass was flush against his hips, you started to move.

“so good, jonathan.” you mewled out, the feeling of his cock ramming into your tight, wet hole making you dizzy. “y-your cock feels s-so fucking good!”

“so tight, baby, my god—” jonathan praised, his hands gripping onto your hips as he watched your tits bounce with every movement you made. “so good to me, darling. just look at you.”

you continued to bounce on his thick cock, his tip pounding into your cervix with each up and down movement you made. you could feel your slick leaking all over his cock, coating the base with your arousal.

“a-ah— yes, yes!” you chant, your mind going blank as you start to tip over the edge. you leaned down to pepper his neck with kisses, and jonathan’s grip on you tightened as he started to buck his hips into you.

the feeling of his fat cock drilling into your tight cunt had you at a loss for words, the only sounds coming out of your mouth being choked moans and unintelligible whimpers. you kept your face buried in his neck for a moment before kissing down his jaw, all the way down to his collarbones.

jonathan’s breath hitched as he felt your lips touch his scars. they were littered all down his collarbones and shoulders. deliberately, you placed open mouthed kisses down each one, sending a silent message to jonathan — i love every part of you.

he could barely focus on bucking his hips into your cunt, so tight and so warm, let alone the feeling of your lips trailing down his neck and collarbones. it felt sacred — the way you kissed every part of him that held a traumatic memory, the scars that he loathed to look at in the mirror.

yet here you were, appreciating every part of him, down to what he deemed the worst parts of himself.

suddenly, he heard you gasping and felt you clawing at his biceps and shoulders, your dripping hole fluttering around his cock.

“are you, fuck — about to cum, darling?” he asked through heavy breathes, feeling you bouncing on him as he bucked into you.

“m-mhm.” you hummed, delirious as his cock turned you dumb. “r–ight there!”

“fuck, i’m close,” jonathan warned, “beg me to fill you, darling.”

“i-i need it!” you wailed, throwing your head back as you gave jonathan a little show, drenching his length. “fu-fuck! fill me, p-lease!”

your begging worked (of course it would) because as soon as the words left the tip of your tongue, he was holding your hips still with an iron grip as he spilled his warm, sticky seed into your tight, wet hole.

the room went quiet as both of you tried to catch your breaths, clinging onto one another as if the other would somehow dissipate into mirage. you felt jonathan’s calloused, warm hands hold you tighter — closer — as you basked in the love that lingered in the air.

it feels good to be loved, doesn’t it?

“jonathan?” you whispered, still straddling him. “don’t go to work tomorrow — stay home. let me take care of you.”

“i already cancelled my day during dinner,” he said, his voice soft, “please, just let me hold you.”

you sighed blissfully, letting your lover wrap his arms around you as you stayed on top of him for the moment being. “always,” you nod, “...are you okay?”

“now that i’m with you — yes.”

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer

@minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii

@stsrfujid @psylrd @eyraaaaaae @nyxxie-pooh @momoewn

@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @abprill

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zepskies · 5 months

Text

Wake Me Up - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Thank you so much for your lovely responses on Part 1! Last week's angst was very physical. Now let's get into emotional...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 6.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, PSTD, hurt/comfort, medical trauma and injuries…and a bit of Nurse Benjamin? lol

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 2: “All in Your Eyes”

At first, it was all shapeless color.

It felt like a small eternity before your vision cleared, and you dimly became aware of being in a hospital room. Your steady heartbeat clipped away on the monitor.

You had an IV in your hand and wires suction-cupped to your chest. Your raggedy clothes had been replaced with a blue paper gown, hidden under the blankets keeping you warm.

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well-trimmed.

His head soon rose, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

His green eyes went blank for a moment. His hand fell from your cheek.

Then he chuckled in disbelief.

“Eyes are barely open, and already you’re fucking around,” he said.

That confused you even more. You were saved from answering, however, when there came a knock at the door. A blonde young woman peeked in. She brightened with a shocked, but happy smile when she saw you were awake.

“Hey! Oh my God, you’re awake,” she whispered in excitement. She went to your bed on the other side and picked up your hand. It took you a moment to remember her name, but you did recognize her.

“A-Annie? What…what happened?” you asked. You didn’t recognize the roughness in your own voice.

Annie shared a sobered look with the man sitting beside you, and she looked down at you again.

“Oh, hun. What do you remember?” she said.

You tried hard to think…but you couldn’t. It was all blurry and muddled in your mind.

Then, it was incredibly painful. A sharp, piercing pain that permeated through your skull and rattled down your spine, waking up the rest of your body in the worst of ways.

You whimpered, and the monitor began to beep more incessantly as your heart rate began to climb. You uttered a cry of pain while you held your aching head. You felt the gauze wrapped across your temples, forehead, and under your chin, half-covering your face.

The man turned to Annie with an angry frown.

“Get the goddamn doctor!” he snapped. But he reached for your closest hand and held it gently. He met your tearful eyes. Part of him didn’t know quite how to comfort you though. His eyes flit over your pained face, the way you were gripping your head with one hand.

He brushed his thumb over the one he held.

“…It’s okay, I got you,” he said eventually. “Just breathe.”

You couldn’t respond. There was too much pain, too much confusion. The last thing you saw was the worry in his eyes, before your head fell back against your pillow.

Your world faded away once again.

Dr. Helen Jeong, the neurologist Grace hired specifically to attend you, had been with you for a while. When she came out, Ben, Annie, your mother Marie, your sister Louisa, and the rest of the team (except for Butcher) were in the waiting room. All of them wanted to hear how you were doing, as well as the doctor’s prognosis.

Ben stood with his arms crossed, and Marie and Louisa followed suit. Technically, Marie was your next of kin, considering you and Ben weren’t married. She was close to tears again, but Louisa was supporting her.

“She’ll need a few more tests to confirm, but it looks like dissociative amnesia,” said Dr. Jeong. “It could be selective. Meaning, she remembers parts of her life, but not others, specifically tied to the past few days and the past year.”

“And me,” said Ben. He was frowning angrily. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”

She gave him a patient look.

“Her skull is fractured, but she’s also gone through an emotional trauma, as well as a physical one," she said. "The memories she’s lost are likely linked to that trauma, and so, her brain is trying to block out anything related to that painful time. It’s the body’s way of coping.”

Somehow, that explanation didn’t make it any better. Something dark and unfamiliar had been churning in Ben’s gut for days, but now he was forced to reckon with it.

It was guilt, and it was eating at his insides, clawing up to his throat. He covered it up with a hot layer of anger.

“Aside from time to heal from her injuries, it’s important that she be taken care of in a familiar, low-stress environment,” said Dr. Jeong. She aimed that last bit at Ben.

“How long until she’s better?” Louisa asked. “Will her memories come back at all?”

Ben shot her a dark look for even asking that question, but the doctor bobbed her head.

“It may take a while. Weeks, or even months, but have patience with her. As she heals, and with therapy, her memories should come back eventually,” she said. She gave Ben in particular a more reassuring glance.

He wasn’t interested in being reassured. He wanted results.

The doctor moved on so she could schedule an MRI for you, among other tests. Annie went over and laid a tentative hand on Ben’s arm. He glared at her touch and slid his gaze over to her.

“Look, we’re here for her…and for you,” she said. Even though she withdrew her hand, she looked sincere. “Whatever she needs, just let us know.”

Hughie was just behind her with a sympathetic look of agreement. M.M., Kimiko, and Frenchie were quietly supportive, if somber. You’d recognized Annie and Hughie earlier, but the others were strangers to you as well—likely because you’d met the other two at Supe Affairs, before you took on one fateful mission that would lead you to Ben. And him to you.

He let out a breath and gave Annie a minimal nod.

She smiled a little, and she and Hughie went back into your room to say goodbye for now. They promised to come back and visit, along with the others.

Meanwhile, Marie and Louisa were talking quietly. Ben’s ears perked up to it.

“I think she should come stay with you, Mom, until she’s better,” Louisa said.

When Ben heard that, he approached them. His darker frown was back in place.

“She’s coming home with me,” he said, in a tone that boded no argument. He should have remembered that your sister was too much like you sometimes. Fucking stubborn.

“If she doesn’t know you, she’s not going to be comfortable with you,” Louisa pointed out.

Marie gave her daughter a look, one that said she could’ve had a little more tact there.

“The best way for her to get her memories back is for her to stay with me, in a familiar place. In her home,” Ben said, his voice terse and shoulders tense.

“But trying to remember is hurting her,” Louisa said. “She needs to heal from her injuries first. And oh, how about this? No one will even tell us how the hell this happened in the first place!”

Ben’s frown deepened. Your younger sister had been warming up to him a bit more since the Christmas holiday you all spent together last month, but it seemed she was just as protective of you as you were of her.

Fine. Ben understood it, but Louisa was just a college student, not even old enough to order a fucking beer. He wouldn’t have this little girl telling him what was best for you.

However, as he glanced at your mother, he also couldn’t bring himself to answer Louisa’s non-question. At least, not with the whole truth.

“It was retaliation,” he replied, “for a supe we put away a while back.”

Louisa sighed heavily. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip and shared a look with her mother.

“Why did they want her though?” Louisa asked Ben, sniffling.

He held the tremor of unease deep inside, and he thought fast.

“He had connections in the CIA. She was the only part of the team here at the base, so he singled her out,” he said. The lie rolled off his tongue without much effort, even though part of it did add to the dark churning in his gut. His gaze fell beyond them.

“All of this is a moot fucking point,” he said. “All she needs is my blood, and she’ll be just fine.”

Louisa wiped under her wet eyes and scoffed.

“You think she’s going to accept a blood transfusion from a supe? Look, I’m sorry, but she’s not the person you know right now—”

“All the more reason to fix this sack of bullshit,” Ben snapped.

He turned on his heel and headed for your room. By now, Annie, Hughie, and the rest of them had cleared out. You were dozing, it seemed, but your eyes opened when Ben thundered in, followed closely by Marie and Louisa.

“Ben,” Louisa warned.

“What’s going on?” you asked weakly.

Ben shook his head and went to your bedside. He took up your hand and didn’t notice (or ignored) the apprehension in your eyes.

“Look, I know you think you don’t know me. You’ve been through…a lot,” he said. He paused when he considered the hell you’d probably endured the past few days. His gut began to roil again, but he pushed forward.

“Last year, you got hurt. Bad enough that you were going to need surgery,” he explained. “But I gave you some of my blood, and you healed right up. I’m gonna do the same for you now.”

You saw that he was serious, that he probably believed he was telling the truth. You just didn’t know this man—this supe that they’d told you was actually Soldier Boy. Instinctively you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp.

“No thanks,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “I think I’m good healing on my own.”

Ben frowned. He held your hand a fraction tighter.

“Look—”

“No, you look,” you said in frustration, and a frisson of wariness. “I know you think I’m your…girlfriend or life partner or whatever the fuck, but I don’t know you.”

Just as the words left your lips, something sharp and painful flashed in your skull.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“But you do. You fucking know me!” Ben insisted. His grip on your hand tightened enough to make you flinch, a whimper sounding in your throat.

“Hey!” Louisa snapped at him.

“Ben,” Marie said, more gently, but not without urgency.

He realized what he was doing, and he forced himself to relax his grip. He watched you take your hand back and look at him like he was some kind of animal. He also realized then that you were scared. Scared of him.

Fuck me…

By degrees, he relented. Heaving a sigh, he carded a hand through his hair and gave a short nod.

“All right,” he said, and he met your eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He held your wary gaze until you nodded in acceptance. He took in your face, bruised, and still stained pink from the blood that had been cleaned away with antiseptic wipes. Your neck, arms, and chest were the same; your other wounds were stitched up and bandaged.

According to the first doctor who evaluated you after you came out of emergency surgery (Ben had already forgotten the broad’s name), you’d also sustained broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, aside from your other injuries.

“And…what about the rest of it?” Ben had asked. He spoke alone with the doctor, just outside your room. Marie and Louisa were in there with you now in the ICU.

The doctor shook her head, offering a look of professional reassurance.

“No. There’s no evidence of sexual trauma,” she said.

Ben took that information in with a nod. Inside his chest, however, the clenching around his heart eased a great deal.

But even with that relief, just your battered face, and the way you were looking at him now…it was all too much.

Ben ignored the voice deep inside that said this was what he deserved.

He stood up, and he left you with your family.

While Louisa had to go back to her dorm for school tomorrow, Marie stayed with you that night. You zoned in and out while New Girl played on the little TV on the wall.

Marie caressed your hair gently, though she was mindful of the way most of your head was wrapped after surgery to fix your skull. If only they could fix your mind too.

“That man…” you trailed. “Um, Soldier Boy. All that crazy shit he was saying…was it true?”

Marie gave you a look for your use of language, but she nodded gravely, and with sadness.

“Yes, Ben was telling the truth,” she said. “He’s the one who saved you. Believe me, he’s very upset that you’re hurt like this.”

You tried to process that as you frowned in contemplation. He’d certainly been…pushy. And determined, like he could actually heal you.

It didn’t matter though. You weren’t about to let a supe feed you his blood like a damn vampire, or whatever Compound V-tainted shit he tried to give you. You weren’t Bella Swan, and this wasn’t fucking Twilight.

“Ben” was rough, and demanding, and gave off a real assholish exterior. Just before he left, though, you also saw his upset. He had taken in your injuries like he was angry, just at the state of you. Like he was mad that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.

“I guess he went home,” you said. Marie shook her head.

“No, he’s still here.”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

“He’s in the waiting room downstairs,” she explained. “Grace made sure he had a special pass so he could stay with us in the hospital, just in case…”

“In case of what?” you asked. Marie smiled and continued to brush your hair back.

“In case we need him,” she said. “For protection, he said.”

Her eyes shone with sadness again, like she knew something you didn’t. It made you suspicious, but you were surprised that he was still here, despite what you’d said to him.

…Huh, you thought.

Thanks to the (fucking awesome) power of morphine, you fell asleep shortly after.

A week later, you were still recovering in the hospital. The shitty fact of it was, between the medication for your injuries and the risk of pulling your stitches, you could barely move. Dr. Burke was pleased that you at least had feeling in your extremities. One of her main concerns for you had been mobility issues.

Well, you still had to use a bedpan, and sometimes you missed your mouth when you ate pudding, but at least you could feel your feet.

Marie took the whole work week off from her job in order to stay with you. Louisa visited you every day she could after her classes, but she had a recital coming up, and you didn’t want her to lose focus. You encouraged her to only come if and when she finished getting in all the practice she needed.

And Ben…well, he came often. Mostly when you were sleeping. And every time you woke up, you saw something new from him: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, imported chocolates, a snack from the deli down the street from the hospital, a good breakfast from your favorite café in the city, or even several orders of takeout for you, him, and Marie.

You also noticed how your mother doted on him almost as much as she did on you, offering to grab him cups of coffee, or laying her blanket over him while he napped in the big lounge chair close to your bedside.

The guy just refused to leave. So you didn’t say anything about it. You just watched him whenever you were lucid enough to notice he was there.

As it became easier for you to stay awake, and to observe his quiet, but solid presence, the more your wariness of Ben bled away.

You soon began to realize that you were curious about him. If you really had been with him before, how had you two met? And what had made you get with a supe, let alone the original supe Vought ever introduced to America?

You considered him now while he dozed in that uncomfortable looking chair. His brown locks had once again swept over his brows, almost obscuring his eyes. Part of you itched to lean over and brush it all away from his face. If only you were close enough.

You could admit, if just within the safety of your mind, that he was a damn fine specimen of a man. Between the cut of that bearded jaw, the broadness of his arms and chest, the length of those widespread legs…

“Keep staring at me and you’ll wear a damn hole in my face,” he muttered.

You inhaled sharply, and his eyes cracked open. A small smirk raised his lips in amusement. You smiled as well, more in embarrassment at being caught.

Ben let out a long breath and rolled the cracks out of his neck, confirming your assumption that the chair was even more uncomfortable than it looked. You felt a bit bad for him, that he was putting himself through all that for your sake…for someone who didn’t remember him.

He turned to you in askance. “How’re you holding up?”

You shrugged.

“Okay. Pain meds are finally kicking in, at least for the hour.”

He nodded, dragging a hand over his beard. He knew that you’d eaten lunch with your second dose of the day not too long ago.

“You still hungry?” he asked. “I don’t know how they could give you that shit. What was that, some poor fucking excuse for baby food?”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant,” you agreed, but the doctor had requested something you could easily digest, with all the medication you were on.

Ben shook his head and rocked onto his feet. He’d get you a candy bar or something. He knew Twix was your favorite.

“Um…Ben,” you said, halting his steps. He turned to you with a raise of his brows. You pointed over to the folded quilt at the foot of your bed. Your mom had brought it from home.

“Would you give me that blanket over there?” you asked. “I’m a little cold.”

You’d get it yourself, but it pained you to fold yourself over. Ben was gracious enough to go over and get the blanket for you. He even opened it up and covered your body up to your chest. His face was stoic, more or less, but there was care in his hands. You found yourself staring up at his face. He leaned against the guardrail of your bed and met your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said, in a near whisper. “And, um…my water?”

You pointed to the plastic cup and jug on the rolling tray to his left. He shot you a look, but he did as you asked, pouring some fresh water into the cup and handing it to you. His fingers brushed with yours on the pass, but you tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand. Instead, you took a few sips from the cup and handed it back to him. He set it back on the tray for you.

“What’d I do to get the hot nurse?” you couldn’t help but tease.

Ben’s brows rose again, somewhat incredulous this time. Then, he was unable to restrain a cocky smile.

“Hmm, I’m a let that one go, since you’re laid up,” he said.

His gaze roamed your face. He noted that your purplish bruises were easing up somewhat, to green and yellow. Your lacerations were beginning to heal. And before, where there had been wariness, he now saw curiosity in your eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” you drew enough courage to ask.

His lips twitching to one corner, he lowered the guardrail and sat down on the edge of your bed. He gave you an expectant look. You sucked in a breath to steel yourself.

“How long have we been a…a thing?” you asked, pointing between the both of you.

Ben quirked a brow. “About a year now.”

You nodded, though your eyes were wide in surprise. You actually began to blush.

Ben smirked. He reached for the phone in his pocket and handed it over to you, after scrolling to find his photo album.

“Does that look like we don’t know each other?” he asked.

You shot him a wry glance, but you took the phone and started looking through the album. Many of the pictures that featured both of you looked like ones you’d taken, just from the angle. One picture was rather innocuous of him sitting on a couch, presumably watching TV, while you rested on his shoulder and smiled at the camera. His arm was wrapped around your waist.

Another was of you glaring at him in surprise, mid-bite on a large chili hot dog. He wore a Cheshire grin while leaning in close to your cheek.

There were several more than you flipped through, but each one made you sting with the unfamiliarity of it all. You couldn’t remember any of this, but it was undeniable what you and Ben were to each other.

Then you happened on a picture of just you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You looked annoyed, but by the evidence of your smile, also amused that he’d surprised you with the picture.

Your blush intensified as you scrolled past that one. Then you encountered more pictures of you and him, each position filled with more bare flesh—and even more compromising than the next. You refused to press play on any of the videos.

“Oookay,” you said with a full flush heating your face and neck, and the tips of your ears. You minimized the album and all but tossed the phone back at him.

Ben’s smirk had deepened the longer he watched you peruse through the pictures. Now he chuckled and pocketed his phone.

“Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?” he couldn’t help but tease.

Frankly, you were adorable, getting all embarrassed, crossing your arms and pulling the blanket up to your neck. You shot him a look of warning.

What, you could eye him like a honey-glazed ham, flirt with him even, but you couldn’t take a little on the return side?

Ben chuckled some more and reached for your hand, to uncross your arms. You allowed it with a thinly veiled wariness. You weren’t afraid of him…anymore. But that didn’t mean there was no reason to keep your guard up around this guy.

Meanwhile, Ben actually struggled to figure out what he wanted to say to you. Something that wouldn’t put you off, or come off too strong. This was just too fucking strange…

He met your gaze with a heavy exhale.

“You’re going to be let out of here soon enough,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you. Matter of fact, I saved you.”

I’ve saved you more times than I can fucking count at this point, he thought wryly.

You stared back at him in contemplation. He sensed you were listening, really trying to hear him.

“You do care about me, don’t you?” you asked, almost in wonder.

Ben didn’t answer you right away. Your question took him off guard a bit, but he also found himself meeting your gaze.

“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. You frowned at him then.

“Not entirely," you said. "Not if you don’t say it, Romeo.”

Ben stilled. Against his will, he remembered the last real words he’d said to you before this nightmare began.

“I love you,” you’d said. He could hear your pretty smile through the phone. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” Ben replied, smiling himself. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

He could also hear your disappointment, there in your brief silence.

“Come on, say it,” you implored.

Ben restrained a sigh. He cast a subtle look from the corner of his eye, watching Butcher, M.M., and Kimiko loading the car with their weapons, along with the supe they’d captured. They were all too close for comfort.

“Say what?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. Your sigh reached him, stinging him.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

He knew what you wanted, but he still didn’t give it to you.

He didn’t allow himself.

Now, he brushed a thumb over the back of your hand, and he sighed. Sometimes, regret weighed just as bad as guilt, even if you couldn’t admit to either one.

His gaze now slid up to yours.

“Well, I do… I care about you,” Ben said.

You’re fucking mine, his selfish heart added. He just didn’t think you’d react well to that admission.

“What do you say about coming home with me?” he asked. “I think being around all your stuff will help you…get better.”

You debated his proposition, and you realized his idea made sense. If this man was really your boyfriend, and you’d been living with him for a year…then maybe you could trust him.

Just not entirely.

“I want my mom to come too,” you said.

Ben smiled. It was a small, but true smile, and it took you by surprise. But you only felt your face getting warm again when he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

“Yeah, she can come help me take care of you, ‘til you’re feeling better,” he said.

You regarded him for a moment, still wondering if you could trust him. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you found yourself relenting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go with you.”

After you were finally discharged from the hospital, Ben drove you and Marie out of the city to his apartment in Scarsdale. Technically, it was your apartment too.

He promised that it had been fitted with a much better security system, now with motion cameras around the apartment, and sensors on the roof. (You didn’t know that Hughie would have to explain to Ben how all that shit worked on his phone.)

The apartment itself was familiar to you, but it felt fuzzy in your mind. Like you had a dream of being here, living a life that wasn’t yours.

Thanks to the stairs, Ben left your bags at the foot of them, before he carefully maneuvered you into his arms without pressing on any of your stitches. You sucked in a shaky breath and held onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment as the movement jostled your sense of equilibrium.

“You okay?” he asked. You blinked your eyes open and met his. His brows were furrowed in concern, but it was the intensity of his eyes that stole your breath. Part of you wanted to smile, half out of nerves, but you tempered it.

“Peachy,” you replied.

His lips twitched. He then moved carefully up the stairs.

He set you back down on your feet once he reached the top, at your insistence. Marie came in from behind with her suitcase and your forearm crutch, but Ben still kept a supporting arm around your waist.

“I’ve got it,” you told him, a bit nervous and hasty to escape his hold.

He released you, and reluctantly watched you head further into the apartment on your own two feet (and crutch). You wandered into each room like you were looking for a damn portal into Narnia.

It was hard for Ben to watch you like this. With a sigh, he went back downstairs to grab the rest of your things. He set them down in the living room while you ambled off into the guest room. Marie touched his arm in comfort.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” she said.

She’d developed a soft spot for Ben not too long after meeting him. And though he’d never admitted it, the sentiment was reciprocated.

He didn’t answer her, but after a moment, he nodded. She rubbed his arm with a faint smile and went to check on you.

Marie soon found you in the office you and Ben shared. It didn’t look like he used this room often, while your desk was covered in papers and files. It did, however, smell like his cologne in here.

Or, well, the scent was masculine and woodsy—like sandalwood and spice (and a hint of weed, as evidenced from the ashtray on his desk). You had to assume the scent belonged to him, even though you didn’t think he’d worn cologne at all in the hospital. Or maybe you just inherently recognized it as his.

Huh. Smell is the strongest sense, you mused to yourself.

The thought of you remembering anything at all from what you’d lost had you the slightest bit excited, and nervous. Dr. Jeong said you’d been through a terrible trauma. The evidence of it now littered your body and had nearly broken you. So you were fairly certain that there were things you didn’t want to remember.

The touch of your mother’s hand on your shoulder had you jolting. You breathed in relief when you saw her. Her eyes widened and she held up placating hands.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “You okay?”

You nodded, though you continued to take in your surroundings with a small frown. She helped you sit in one of the office chairs, as your strength was already waning.

“It seems like everything he said was true. It’s just…it’s a lot,” you said.

“Of course it is,” said Marie. “But if it helps, you seemed very happy here. You were just glowing all night with him at the Christmas party.”

Great, yet another event that was entirely blank in your mind. If you couldn’t remember celebrating your favorite holiday, then what was the point? You huffed.

“I just find it hard to believe that I’d end up with a supe,” you admitted. You worked at Supe Affairs for God’s sake.

Marie only laughed and rubbed your back.

“Well, you found a good one,” she said.

A good one, huh? you shook your head in true wonder.

Now that was food for thought.

When you first arrived, Ben had led you to the master bedroom and said it was your room. So why the fuck was he climbing into bed with you?

“Excuse me,” you frowned at him, drawing the blankets closer over your body. You only had on a large shirt over your underwear. It was how you preferred to dress for bed, and it was easier than pulling a pair of shorts over the healing scars on your legs.

Ben had on a gray shirt and some plaid pajama pants. He’d shucked off his old man loafers before making the right side of the bed dip with his weight. He raised a brow at you.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“Going to bed, sweetheart. Been a long fucking week,” he retorted.

“I thought this was my bed,” you said.

“It’s our bed,” he corrected. He grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull some of it towards him, but you pulled it tighter against you.

“Look,” you said flatly. “I agreed to come here and stay with you, but I didn’t agree to this kind of close quarters.”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance and willed his temper not to snap. So fucking what if he shared the bed with you? It was a California king. The odds of your bodies even touching were slim to none.

However, he saw that stubborn look in your eyes. It was all too familiar.

Christ on a cross. He forgot how goddamn difficult you were in the beginning.

And really, you two were at the beginning, all over again. He’d gotten you to trust him, slightly, but he knew the rest would take time.

Is this really fucking worth it? came an insidious thought deep inside. The selfish part that had ruled for most of his life.

Then, he spied the silver Rolex on his nightstand—the one you’d gifted him for Christmas, along with the photo album that you’d put together for him. It included the only pictures he kept of his mother, and new ones you’d made with him. They were pictures you’d collected and captured of your life together so far.

With a deep sigh, Ben wordlessly got out of bed. He grabbed up his pillow and a throw blanket that had slid to the floor, and he made his way to the living room. Marie was taking up the only guest bedroom, so he supposed he was relegated to the couch in his own home. How the fuck did that happen?

He sat down heavily in the middle of the couch and had to take some deep breaths. His head slowly fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. With both hands, he tried to rub the exhaustion and frustration from his face.

There were words he couldn’t say. However, within the safety of his mind, he was forced to reckon with it.

This was his fault. He knew it, down to his bones.

It was all really his fucking fault.

He should’ve gotten you a protective security detail from the beginning. He just didn’t think anyone would have the balls to…

Ben breathed past the tightness in his chest that was once again clawing at his throat.

Well, this fucking blows like a cheap whore, he thought.

And as you might expect, he slept fitfully that night.

The next morning, you winced at the ache in your head that was now customary for you. You had practically drowned in this giant-ass bed, but the reality was, you’d barely slept. You just couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay asleep.

You didn’t know if it was because it was an unfamiliar place, or because you now had a lower dose of pain meds than you’d been given in the hospital, or if it was because there was just something missing here.

You sighed and hauled yourself out of bed to freshen up. Really, you should’ve waited for your mother or Ben to help you out of bed, but you weren’t used to being incapacitated like this. And even when you were down, it had been ingrained in you (through your father’s special brand of “parenting”) to play through the pain.

So you grabbed your crutch from beside the bed, and somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom by yourself.

After dressing in sweatpants, a bra, and a tank top, you padded out into the hall. Your mom was still sleeping, but you found Ben in the living room.

He was sprawled out across the couch. Half the covers had slipped off his body and pooled on the floor. Again, you tried not to admire the length and broadness of his form, and the way that shirt stretched across his chest and arms.

His arm was curled across his closed eyes, but he lowered it when he heard you approaching.

His eyes were a bit red and bleary. It didn’t look like he’d slept very well either. You felt bad for that, as you leaned on the back of the couch to greet him.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you teased him a little. “You slept like shit out here, didn’t you?”

“What was your first damn clue?” he groused. You had a feeling he was grumpy in the morning, regardless of how well he slept.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” you said. Even though you had every right to sleep alone, you still felt bad for making him sleep out here. “How about I make us some coffee?”

He nodded with a grunt. You smiled and teetered only slightly on your way to the kitchen. Ben frowned as he realized it.

“You shouldn’t be walking around like that yet,” he called after you.

He forced himself to get off the couch, rolling to his feet. You shot him a stubborn look.

“I’m fine,” you said.

Ben’s frown deepened with annoyance.

…Right. Okay, you weren’t exactly fine.

You were still exhausted. Still felt like utter crap, as stiffness pulled at your muscles and pain at your stitches and broken ribs. And, oh yes, your head was still broken.

But, this was the most mobile you’d been in a few weeks. You were determined to do at least one normal, productive thing today. Even if it was just making coffee, then you were going to count that as a win.

By the time Ben joined you, the coffee was done percolating and you handed him a mug. He took a sip before he remembered to tell you…no cream.

He looked into the mug in wonder. You’d actually made his coffee with sugar, no cream. Just like he liked it.

Noticing the look on his face, you paused.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to ask how you take it.”

“No,” he said, sitting across from you at the breakfast bar. “It’s just right.”

You blinked in surprise, but then you shrugged and sipped at your own cup of coffee, which had both cream and sugar. While you were preoccupied with brainstorming where to order in for breakfast, Ben allowed himself to smile a little.

You were in there, somewhere.

He just needed to help you come out.

AN: See? I promise, there's hope. 💚

(But there's also still drama ahead...)

Next Time:

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in a rumpled shirt and the sweatpants he’d slept in.

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

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@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

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