#because not only does it shift the responsibility of the resulting circumstances of his leaving onto himself

[aliusfrater]

[electricbluebutterflies]

hey baby! long time reader, first time asker <3 here's a prompt for you: letojessica, fluffy little sick fic: she gets sick and he's the only one around to help, so he decides to be the best nurse he can be and bring her a nice cup of tea. only one problem: he doesn't know how to make it.

For logistical reasons this ended up modern AU. PG-ish and also on ao3.

She’s not moving. That’s not normal.

They keep certain routines, some more conscious than others, and one of the most consistent is that she’s always awake before he is. She’ll still stay curled up in their bed for warmth, but she’s not as perfectly still as she thinks she is and there’s usually some kind of slight movement, if nothing else those things she does with her hands when she’s trying to suppress emotions. Usually that’s what wakes him up, the slightest change of the weight-balance on the mattress, and her body shifting towards his in response, and-

He wakes up first, and he’s pretty sure that’s never happened before, and this is bad.

Leto would like to think he is not prone to overreacting, but the problem is his partner is so consistent that any variance from her routine is enough to cause minor panic. It is entirely possible that her body has finally decided she needs to suffer the consequences of how hard she pushes herself, but that is still not a good situation, and-

He puts his hand on her forehead – that seems like a normal-person thing to do in this situation, he doesn’t know, he’s winging it the same way he’s winged every moment of the past four years with her – and it feels unusually warm. Her skin runs cold, and there had been some acclimation to that at first, and this isn’t normal, the terrifying thought in his mind is this isn’t normal and-

He’s starting to understand why she says he’s just as much of a worrier as she is. The difference is she gives far less justification for that tendency.

Putting cautions pressure on her shoulder seems like a logical next step – he’s never had to try to wake her up before, doesn’t know what’ll go over well, doesn’t know what she’ll even process under the circumstances – and he can see how the weekend is actually going to unfold and it no longer includes whatever outing he hasn’t exactly planned yet or even leaving the apartment or-

Her eyes open slowly, and even in the half-light she looks too pale, and damn this fragile heart she has given him.

There is no reason to ask if she’s alright, not when the answer is so obvious, not when she still feels too warm as he pushes her hair away from her face. She doesn’t get sick like normal people, or if she does she’s very good at hiding it – he remembers the one time last year with the bad fish, how determined she was to not be difficult, and anything that could lower her defenses this much-

“Don’t give me that look,” she breathes, voice unusually weak but at least she’s coherent. “I’m fine.”

Ah, yes. Fine. The clearest sign that she isn’t. The last time she’d used that word in that tone had been in the aftermath of black ice and significant bruises – another high point of how unable she is to admit weakness or any need for care – and at least when that happened she’d been functional enough to yell at him. Right now…

“You need to rest. I’ll be back. Try to… make noise if you need me.”

Again, the problem is this isn’t a routine. He has no idea what care she needs, let alone will allow, in her current condition. Trying to keep her curled up in bed for a day or two will require significant effort – he has no doubt she’ll at least convince herself she’s functional enough for whatever domestic tasks she’ll try to tackle because she stress-cleans when she thinks he’s being too protective and skies that’ll result in her passing out while she’s trying to clean the bathroom mirror or something and-

He should make tea for her, he decides. That’s one of her few comfort things – the biggest inconvenience when she moved in had been the appropriation of a kitchen cabinet for what he can only describe as a collection – and presumably he can’t screw that up.

Presumably.

He is not domestically inept, and on the various occasions he has been left to his own devices in the kitchen he’s caused exactly one minor fire and no permanent damage, but it’s more the amount of options that could be a problem. There are dozens of boxes and bags in a complex organizational system that he can’t recall being explained to him at any point. He’s never had interest, doesn’t drink tea himself, and all he knows offhand is she always makes it completely black and-

At least some of the options are in premade bags, and putting that in hot water feels idiot-proof enough. Just insert and wait. He’s not sure on time, but he assumes it should probably end up looking something like coffee, and it does feel like it’s taking a little longer than it should, and-

If she’s too out of it to roll her eyes at him, he justifies, she’ll forget this ever happened. Hopefully. It’s either that or this’ll turn into one of those stories she will casually bring up years down the line, like that one time with the chandelier or-

By the time he retreats back to their bedroom, he’s at least convinced himself that good intentions will make up for however this has gone wrong. He is confident enough to admit what he does not know, and self-aware enough to know how many unfortunate stereotypes he’s hitting, and he’ll do better next time if there ever is a next time in five year or whatever and-

She’s at least still awake, and functional enough to have maneuvered herself into a sitting position, and he’s not sure whether that’s actually in his favor right now.

“I tried,” he says, and a preemptive apology isn’t a great sign, and-

She takes the mug from his hands and takes a very cautious sip, and he knows her signals enough to know when it’s taking all the energy she has to be tactful. “You tried.”

“I don’t…”

“You did only use one tea bag, yes?”

“Yes?” Oh, if he managed to do that wrong…

“You tried,” she repeats, taking another sip despite her obvious disappointment. “Thank you.”

“Whatever else you-“

“Could you close the curtains better?”

That, at least, he knows how to do. Not completely useless. Just…

“Anything else, love?”

She hands him the mug, now empty. “Never, ever try to do that again.”

“Understood.”

[mmriesoftvat]

He's about to stand so that he might begin preparing said medication when Cyno shifts, and Tighnari pauses in turn. His ears, having returned to their usual, upright state twitch a little as he listen to the request, and admittedly, the ranger is somewhat surprised. He hadn't been anticipating such a request from the other man, but now that he thinks about it...

His mind does feel heavy. Perhaps it's because he has, in fact, been anxious since he'd come across Cyno. Worrying over another could be just as draining as a physical activity, after all, and when that person is someone that Tighnari cares about... well, that only makes it all the more tiring. Under normal circumstances, he might have insisted that he's fine - that he shouldn't leave his work waiting and that the sooner he finishes it, the sooner that he can settle in as well.

It's Cyno making the request though, and given that the General Mahamatra - who is as much a workaholic as Tighnari himself is - is agreeing to stay put, well... it seems only fair that the fox agree to do the same. Tighnari allows his gaze to drift down, settling upon the spot where Cyno's hand still rests upon his arm and, after another moment of contemplation, gives a soft nod.

"Alright - just this once," he murmurs, giving Cyno's hand one final squeeze before he stands so as to fetch the aforementioned medicine, "I'll be right back. It won't take me long."

And it doesn't. Soon, Tighnari's sitting next to Cyno once more, offering the other man a cup of liquid that has a rather floral scent to it. It doesn't taste nearly as pleasant, unfortunately, but such is one of the drawbacks of herbal medicines. "Here. You'll probably feel drowsy once you drink it, but that's normal. It will help you sleep, and... I promise to stay with you."

Truthfully, he doesn't have much desire to leave anyway - not when he wants to be close, in case the electro-user needs him. Laying next to Cyno... well, that's hardly an unpleasant thought either. It... even sounds nice, though he wishes that the circumstances could be better.

The General can see Tighnari mulling over the request in his mind. Cyno can practically see the thoughts dancing behind Tighnari's eyes, with the ranger staring. His own thoughts start straying too: a result of the exhaustion weighing heavier on him.

Cyno wonders if Tighnari knows his ears twitch when he's deep in thought. He wonders if Tighnari's aware of the way his earring shimmers when bounced about by the ear movements. Tighnari's eyes also dart to and fro when he's pondering something, and archons, Cyno could stare all day.

His own breathing slows to match Tighnari's, though unconsciously. Perhaps it's because Cyno is so fixated on studying Tighnari's movements, or maybe his body is preparing to go to sleep, but whatever the case, Cyno can feel his own pulse slow down. His finger taps along to the rhythm for a moment before Tighnari begins speaking again, giving his response.

'Alright, just this once.'

Cyno almost scoffs at the words. It would make him a massive hypocrite to laugh, because his own answer to Tighnari asking him to stay had been nearly word-for-word. (A couple of days as opposed to just this once.)

They both work too hard, and do not have anyone telling them to pull back.

Cyno's thoughts snap back to the present moment when the cup is offered. The floral scent is far more potent than Cyno had anticipated, but it's not unpleasant. "Hm. I didn't need a sleep aid," he mumbles under his breath, knowing full well that Tighnari can hear. It's Cyno's last-ditch effort of lightening the mood, another really lame joke that will no doubt fall flat. Cyno drinks it anyway, handing the cup back over while waiting for the effects to kick in.

He does lie back, making sure nothing's attached still that could poke him. Even his hat is hung up and put away. He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh -- only to now feel the sleep-inducing medication kick in.

"Whoa-"

[hyunsuks-beanie]

It'll Always Be You

Lee Felix × reader; angst, but with a fluffy ending; 2923 words; lovers to exes and back

A/N So Felix has me feeling all sorts of things today, bc of how good he looked during the performance. So here's a scenario for our Sunshine!

"Here's your order and have a nice day," you smile to the female customer in front of you, before handing a pack of cookies to her child. Once the leave, you let out a sigh and look at your best friend who's cleaning the counter next to you. "All done for today!," you exclaim, to which your friend looks up and smiles, before taking off and folding her apron. "So, what are your plans for tonight?," she asks, making you give her a knowing look. She to her eyes before saying, "How long are you gonna stay cooped up inside your house? The break up was two years ago for heaven's sake, you need to start living your life again." "Hey, I am living my life, it's just that, unlike you, I am not interested in going out and meeting new people every day. I meet enough strangers while working here, so there's no need to go clubbing daily," you shrug.

When all she does in reply is pout, you chuckle and say, "Okay, how about we go for a movie tomorrow? My treat." Her face lights up at that, and she gives you a tight hug before saying, "I really want to meet your ex once though, just so I can break his nose." You giggle "Oh he's dead and gone."

Oh, if only you knew.

Once you send your friend off, you start tidying up your little bakery up. This was the place that helped you get over your breakup, which had been messy to say the least. You had immersed yourself fully in your work, because you knew it was one thing that would never hurt you or break your trust.

You sigh lovingly at the memories of setting up and running your bakery, turning your back against the front door. And just as you are reminiscing you hear the door open, causing you to turn. The moment you do so, however, you regret it, because standing there, staring at you wide-eyed, is your ex, otherwise known as Stray Kids' Lee Felix. You both continue to stare at each other for a while, before he finally breaks the silence (and your trance) by whispering, "Y/N."

You clear your throat, and say, "I'm sorry, but we're closed for the day." He rushes to the and hurriedly replies, "Please, it's rather urgent. My friend Hyunjin is really craving some blueberry pie, and he refuses fo join practice before I bring him what he wants." "I told you, I'm sorry, but I can't help you today. You can come back tomorrow though," you say, not looking into his eyes. "Please Y/N, Chan hyung is getting really angry, he's gonna ground me along with Hyunjin," Felix reasons, and you find yourself giving in to his pleading eyes and pouty lips.

"Fine, wait a minute," you say, making him crack a smile. Boy have you missed that smile of his, you think, before mentally slapping yourself for still not being able to resist him, even though he broke your heart to pieces when he broke up with you over the phone two years ago, telling you that he could no longer do long distance with you being all the way in Australia. It wasn't the breakup that hurt you though, it was the fact that he had found someone better and closer to him, or so he said.

Little did you know, though, that the company had he had never really found anyone else, that he didn't want to find anyone else. The company had made him lie to you when they came to know he was secretly dating. He tried to put up a fight, but the company started threatening him about the group facing consequences. He knew you'd see right through him if he told you the truth, so he had to lie to you in order to make you hate him, just so you could move on in life. He meant well, but he never knew he hurt you so bad that you'd give up on dating and love altogether.

"Here you go," you say while handing him his parcel. He thanks you, while contemplating if he should make small talk. Mustering up the courage, he asks, "How have you been?", while looking down. "Fine," you reply, "Congrats on the comeback." His head snaps up at that, as he says, "I didn't know you knew I had a comeback," "It was all over the news, Felix. Stray Kids are really making it big," you swallow before adding, "Your partner must be really proud of you," complete with a fake smile plastered on your face.

Felix winces at your words, not knowing what to say. In the end, he settles with, "How long have you been running this bakery?" "Since about a month after we broke up." When he gives you a confused expression, you sigh and add, "I was kinda already about to move to Seoul when you told me that you had found someone else. I was gonna surprise you, but you ended up surprising me instead."

"Y/N, I-I never knew. I'm so sorry, I-," he says, but you cut him off. "I-I t-think you should leave," you say, with tears threatening to spill. "Let me explain, please. I swear I'll come clean, please, just give me a chance." "No Felix, I can't give you any chance, you blew it up when you hurt me so bad that it made scared of ever loving again. Please.....j-just go," you say, shutting your eyes close. Dejected, he turns around to leave, but not before saying, "I'm sorry," one more time. Once he leaves, you sink down to the floor, crying. "Why did you have to ruin me so bad?," You whisper.

You don't, however, notice that just outside the door, Felix too, is crying hysterically as he gets into his car.

Upon reaching the JYP building, Felix rushes to the washroom to try and dry his eyes and hide any signs that he's been crying. "I still love you. I never stopped, but gosh, why did I have to be such an idiot to let you go? And that too, in the worst way possible?," he says to his reflection in the mirror, thinking back to your broken expression. Slamming his fist against the sink, he curses at himself.

Once he's finally sobered up a little, Felix goes back to the practice room to give Hyunjin his pie. Though he has half a mind to just call in sick and go home and weep, he knows the group needs him. "Here you go, Hyun," he forces a smile onto his face when Hyunjin thanks him. Chan notices his slumped shoulders, but shrugs it off as tiredness. "Now that everyone is satisfied, can we get back to practice?," he asks. Once all the boys agree, rehearsals begin again, but Felix can't find it in himself to focus. He keeps making mistakes, which finally results in Chan stopping the music, grabbing his hand, and taking him out the practice room and to his studio.

"What is it, Lix? You've been distracted ever since you came back from the bakery. Come on, I know something is bothering you, it isn't like you to lose focus. Tell me what it is," Chan says, sternly but gently, his concern for the younger boy evident. "It's nothing, hyung. I'm just tired," Felix tries to evade the question, but Chan presses on. "I'm not buying that, and I'm not gonna have you distracted during performances or practices, either. I can't risk you injuring yourself or any of the boys, so I'm saying again. Spit. It. Out. Leader's orders."

Felix sighs, running a hand through his hair. After a pause, he finally says, "I saw Y/N today. The bakery, it is owned by them." Chan's eyes go wide at this, since he's the only one who knows the circumstances under which you both broke up, and is also the only one who knows about how much Felix regrets letting you go, in the worst possible way. "What happened? Were they....rude to you? Or did they do something?" "What? No hyung, they were nothing but nice to me. We made small talk, and they told me that they were planning to surprise me by moving to Seoul, when I broke up with them. I hurt them so bad that they are scared of ever loving again," Felix says, taking shaky breaths between sentences as tears welled up in his eyes again.

"I messed up so bad hyung, you know I still love them. They're the nicest, most perfect, most lovable person I've ever known, and I damaged them so badly, gosh I feel so guilty," he breaks down again, causing Chan to wrap his arms around him, giving him a shoulder to cry on. Once Felix calms down, Chan says, "You know what you have to do now, right?" "What do you mean?"

"You say you still love them. You say you're guilty. But instead of telling these things to me, you need to tell this to them. Apologize to them, tell them the whole story. Tell them there was never anyone else, and that it's always been them. You didn't fight for them back then, because you were worried for us. But you can fight for them now, because we got your back. Win them back, Lix. Make up for your mistake."

"B-but hyung, why would they ever want to take me back again? I've been nothing but a jerk to them." "Well, in that case, you can't blame them. But they deserve to at least know the truth. They deserve to know that your intentions were not wrong. If they choose to walk away after that, they will at least have had gotten closure. Who knows, it might help them muster the courage to go out and love again. You owe this to them, Lix."

Chan succeeded in knocking some sense into Felix, as the next day, the younger boy found himself in front of your bakery, preparing a long speech explaining why he did what he did to you. He's so engrossed in his thoughts that he doesn't notice your best friend walk out the bakery and stand next to him. "Uhm, are you okay?," she asks, surprising him. "O-oh, uh-uhm, yeah," says Felix, while noticing her uniform, that's identical to yours. "Do you work with Y/N?" "Yeah, we're friends and partners, and on most days, we work together. But they called in sick today, and told me they'd cover the evening shift. How do you know them though?"

To this, Felix finds himself at a loss for words, but he figures if he's gonna come clean to you, he needs an ally. And what better person than your best friend? So he takes down his mask slightly, making your friend gasp in response. "You Felix from Stray Kids! What are you doing here?" "I-I came here to meet Y/N. We broke up two years ago due to a mistake I made, but I need to explain things to them. They deserve to know the truth." He looks up to see your friend glaring at him, as she says, "That was you? You broke my best friend's heart? How could you? I'm not letting you anywhere near them, you jerk"

"Please, just give me 5 minutes, and I'll explain everything to you. Then you can decide if I deserve one more chance." When your friend doesn't say anything, Felix launches into his own version of things, explaining himself and his actions. Once he's done, your friend is still glaring at him, but he notices a smile tugging at her lips.

"You have been nothing but a complete and utter jerk to them. And honestly, you deserve to get your ass kicked by them. But I know that they still love you, and the way you are repenting what you did tells me that you love them too. So I give you my blessing. They'll be here in the evening at 6, be here before then." Felix hugs her super tight at that, with the biggest smile plastered on his face while thanking her. She adds, "But if you hurt them again, I swear I'm gonna murder you with my own two hands." "It won't come to that, I promise."

Felix arrives at the bakery at 10 minutes to six, and the moment he enters, your friend shoves him into the kitchen, asking him to stay there till you come. Once she leaves, he starts pacing up and down, raking his hand nervously through his hair. He tries to prepare what he is going to say, but gives up when he realizes that it would all go out the window when he sees you.

Meanwhile, the moment you step inside the bakery, your friend pretends to be busy setting stuff up on the counter, and asks you to bring in some things from the kitchen. Unassuming, you start walking towards the kitchen doors, when she notices your swollen eyes and exclaimed "Babe, have you been crying?" You muster up a fake smile and tell him that it's just you not feeling well, but unknown to you, Felix heard your friend, and guilt washes over him again. But he doesn't have time to wallow in it, as soon after, you step in.

The way your expression morphs into one of pure sadness breaks his heart into a million pieces, and when you say, "What more do you want from me?" while holding back tears, it takes everything in him to stop from falling to his knees and begging forgiveness. He tries to speak, but you hold up a finger, indicating you aren't finished. "Now that you've found me again, was it not enough for you to have me admit that what you did to me made me stop believing in love? Do you even want to rub it in my face by telling me how happy your are with your partner? If that is so, then please, just get lost, I'm begging you."

Tears are now streaming down your face, and Felix finds himself saying, "Just please. Let me explain. You deserve to know the truth and my feelings and intentions. If after that, you want me to leave, I swear, you will never have to see me again." You can't look at him, but when you don't reply, he says, "I promise that this is the real truth behind what I did. Please hear me out. I lied when I said I had found someone else. There is no 'someone else,' and there never will be one. The only person I've loved, the only person I still love, is you. It'll always be you."

"The company made me break up with you, and threatened me that the group will face consequences if I didn't do as they had asked. I that that if I outright told you the real reason, it would hurt you. And so, I decided to lie to you in order to make you hate me, even if it broke my heart. But never did I ever think that it would damage you so badly, and I know I've been stupid, but I can't help but ask for you to forgive me, and give me one last chance. I know I've been a total jerk to you, and even now, I'm being nothing but selfish, but I just want you to know that I still love you. I'll understand if you want nothing to do with me, and I'll walk away forever. But you deserved to get closure, and I hope that if you do choose to give up on me, you will now be able to love again, and trust again."

By the time he stops talking, the both of you are sobbing hard. You ask him, "Are you done?" When he nods, you say, "You say that you will walk away if I choose to give up on you. But do you really think I'll be able to give up on you? If I couldn't stop loving you even when you broke up with me in the cruelest way possible, what makes you think I'll stop loving you now that I know that you went through the same pain as me? You knew what the truth was, and you still had to hide it. I can only imagine how hurtful that must have been, Felix. I hate myself for believing your stupid lie, for ever doubting the love you had for me. I'm sorry, and I forgive you."

Felix looks up at you, surprised. It takes him some time to process your words, and when he does, he asks you, "What does that mean....for us?" To this, you shyly reply, "Well, I never stopped loving you, and if you didn't either, then should we give us another try?" Felix smiles the brightest he has in ages, as he slowly comes closer to you. Cupping your face, he wipes off your tears, as you proceed to do the same. "I promise I'll never let you go again," he says softly. You giggle and say, "You'd do well to keep that promise," before biting your lip.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?," he asks. You nod in response, causing him to gently place his lips on yours. And for the first time in a while, you feel like you're home.

[deepdarkdelights]

10 Years (Jungkook x Reader) (10 Seconds Part 3)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Manipulation, Murder, scenes of Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Past Trauma, Mentions of Past Domestic Abuse, Mentions of Torture (not depicted), Cult Like Activity, Forced Relationships, Smut, Blood (lots of it), Fear, Contraception 

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview:  He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is.

A/N: SURPRISE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN BABIES! Just for you, here is part three! I spent a whole week dedicating hours to write it so I could have a treat ready for you this Halloween! To date, this is my favorite chapter and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did!

Read Part Here (1) // Read Part Here (2) // Read Part Here (4)

You had pissed him off, that much was obvious. His fingers were still curled into the fabric of your underwear, one flex away from ripping them off. His jaw was tense and his cheeks hallowed in irritation as he fixed you with his intense glare. Jungkook was many things to you, the number one being your source of immeasurable fear. In that moment though, your glare was just as harsh; you were just as angry as he was but for far different reasons. 

You were angry, but you also weren’t stupid. You knew that this could go one of two ways. You could fight back and piss him off further resulting in another punishment or him taking you anyways. Or you could play his game. 

For once, you thanked God that you were such a fucking crybaby because letting all your pent up feelings out was going to be good for what you were going to do next. Your lips trembled as your eyes watered, brimming with tears that threatened to wet your flushed cheeks. You clenched your eyes shut as a choked cry left your lips, your hand coming up to harshly smack his chest. 

“You don’t really love me!” You cried, trying to roll onto your side and away from him while curling your hands into your near naked chest. 

There was a pause of silence between the two of you, his confusion palpable. You pulled your legs free from him and curled up into a ball, loud sobs leaving your chest that sounded more animal than human. As your cries grew louder he finally snapped out of shock, his hands desperately reaching for you as you shrunk away from his touch. 

“Baby, baby!” He called, his voice sounding more hurt each time you rejected him; shrinking into yourself further. “Of course I love you, how couldn’t I?”

“No!” You yelled, sounding more like a petulant child than a scorned lover. “All you want is to use me, you don’t care about me!” You cried dramatically, turning onto your stomach so you could bury your face in your forearms. 

It was like all of the events you had endured were becoming fuel for you, each horrible thing he had done to you spurring tears upon tears to help your performance. You would make him believe you, you had to if it would buy you some time. 

“That’s not true! I love you more than anything, I just wanted to show you how much I love you, baby.” He said, his hands sliding over your waist and under your stomach to turn you over to face him. Your eyes remained clenched shut as he rolled you over, your face wet and hot from the tantrum you had thrown. You almost had him, you could feel him walking straight into your trap. You had him right where you wanted him. 

“You don’t care,” You sobbed, shaking your head. “You only want to have sex with me. You don’t even care about what I want.” You sniffled, bringing your shaking hands up to cover your tear streaked face.

“Fuck, that’s far from the truth. Please tell me what you want, baby. Please, I’ll do anything for you.” He whispered, his much lager hands gently curling around your smaller wrists and prying them from your face so he could catch a glimpse of you. 

Your heart pounded harder at his words, your first thoughts heading towards your freedom. But you quickly stunted that thought, you knew when he said “anything” he meant “anything but that.” You would have to make do with what you had, and your first mission was to keep yourself untouched by him. 

He brought your hand up to his face, pressing light kisses to each finger as soft pleas fell from his lips. He really was at your mercy, intoxicated by your scent, touch, and doe eyes. All it took was a few tears to have him like this for you. But you still knew better, you knew there was a beast lurking beneath the surface of those innocent round eyes and bunny-like smiles. You wouldn’t be fooled by him.

“I-” You began, a hiccup breaking your voice. “I want to save myself for marriage, I always have.” You said, forcing yourself to remain still as he ceased pressing kisses to your knuckles only stopping to raise your hand to cup the smooth flesh of his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut as leaned into your palm, breathing in your scent just by your pulse.

“So, you’re my good girl then? No one else has touched you?” He asked, long lashes still grazing the dips beneath his eyes. 

You nodded in affirmation only to realize he still couldn’t see you. “Yes, no one has.” You agreed.

A sigh of relief had him falling limp against you, removing your hand from his cheek so he could press a kiss to the center of your palm. His demeanor had shifted so quickly even you were surprised. He gently looped his arms beneath your waist and dragged the two of you up into a sitting position, sliding you onto his lap with ease and pressing your chest to his own. It was horrifyingly intimate, the feeling of his bare chest flush against your barely clothed one. He was warm and strong and would have been comforting had the circumstances been different.

That was something you thought often: had the circumstances been different. But they weren’t. Jungkook was as selfish as he was lonely, and because of that he was delusional and overbearing. Sometimes his presence closed in so tightly on your own you felt as if you couldn’t get a single breath in. And because of that, you longed to be miles away from him. He was suffocating you so slowly and ever so painfully. 

His fingers wove themselves into your hair, guiding you to rest your head on his shoulder as he held you close. “I'll wait for you, and only for you.”

Hook, line, and sinker. 

He held you to his chest for a while and nothing was said between the two of you. There was only the steady rise and fall of your chests against one another while his fingers carded through your hair. Your eyes had fluttered shut yet your body was still tense, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be touched in this way. But you knew you could never fully let your guard down around him, he was far too unpredictable. But all that time spent with him had been in your favor, now you knew what made him tick. And you were going to exploit that.

Jungkook pulled you away from his body, his eyes tracing your face. He gently cupped your face in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss, so light it was barely there, to your lips. You could feel him sigh against your lower lip before he reluctantly pulled away. He had to prove to you now that he wasn’t solely after your body, although that was an added benefit for him. He could wait, just for a little while longer.

He leaned over the side of the bed and scooped up his previously abandoned shirt, guiding your arms through the sleeves and pulling the collar down over your head. He couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your head popping up and out of the shirt, your figure drowning in his clothes. His eyes strayed, following where the hem of his shirt laid at the tops of your thighs. You were so tempting, it was no wonder you thought he was only after your body.

Before he could get too distracted he leaned over you and yanked the chain of the lamp, effectively drowning the two of you in a deep pool of darkness. You froze for a moment, your heart thudding as you lost sight of him and what he was doing. You couldn’t see him, but you could still definitely feel him. His strong arms had already curled around your waist, yanking you down on top of him. You yelped in fear as you once more collided with his chest. The man was like a fucking brick wall. You could feel the ginger brush of his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand to rest on his bare chest as he tucked your head into the crook of his neck. You were sure if anyone were to walk in you would look like lovers. How far from the truth they would be.

You were shaking now, the reality of what has almost happened finding you in the seclusion of the dark. But you had to remind yourself, you had outsmarted him this time. You were finally beginning to understand the game: fake it til you make it. If you could play along for long enough then you could find your way out of here. And you were more determined than ever. 

“You cold, baby?” Jungkook asked, breaking the silence first. He must have felt you shaking. 

You nodded in response, trying to play off what you were actually feeling. Fear. Jungkook grasped the edge of the blanket and pulled it up higher, pressing the two of you together beneath the warmth of the covers. You closed your eyes once more, and this time you tried to pretend he was someone else. Anyone else. It was much harder than anticipated, you knew his scent, his touch, and his form. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of him. 

But you would try. 

You could feel sleep coming for you, the crash of emotions you had survived finally taking their toll on you once more. 

You had made it 10 days, how much longer would you have to last? 

“Baby,” Jungkook hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

Long enough to escape, that was for sure. 

~~~~~~~

The next day, things already seemed to be so different. To say you were surprised was an understatement. The ten days of hell you had endured with Jungkook could have been a dream for all you knew. He still was the same way you remembered him to be, clingy, whiny, and overbearingly affectionate. But for the duration of that day, nothing he did had the same sexual undertone you had dealt with for the past ten days.

You were relieved, it seemed like you were finally getting a hold of your horrible situation. Well, for now at least. Jungkook was going to be far easier to fool than his father. And you couldn’t lie, his father terrified you to no end. He had trained Jungkook’s mother into absolute obedience with his unrelenting and ruthless nature. You were sure that if anyone was going to be able to spot your fakery from a mile away, it was going to be him without a doubt. So you had one choice, you were going to have to sell it good. 

And that meant having to do things you really didn’t want to do. 

Very quickly, you found yourself taking on the role of a traditional housewife. Jungkook had made it clear before that that was something he didn’t expect from you. All he wanted was you, or so he claimed. He said that he liked doing things together, he didn’t want you being forced into the traditional role you never truly wanted. But you knew what his father expected, and if you were going to win this game you were going to have to sacrifice a few of your pieces.

And you also knew that if you could keep this charade up for long enough, you could fool them all. It was only a matter of time, and you were willing to give up a few days, weeks, or months to find your freedom again. And if that meant making meals with Jungkook’s mother, cleaning the house, and folding fucking laundry you would do it all with a smile.

Days were passing faster and melting into weeks, and at this point you couldn’t really tell how long you had been missing. You wondered if your family was looking for you, if your friends missed you, or if everyone assumed you were dead in a ditch at this point, your flesh melting away and returning to the earth from which it came from. Sometimes, you even wondered if that would have been better. To have been discarded and left to disappear if it meant you didn’t have to pretend to be something you weren’t and if it meant that you wouldn’t have to live in fear of being punished for a misstep or cower under the sharp glare of Jungkook’s father. But you were determined, fucking terrified but so determined to make it out of this alive. 

The call of your name pulled you from the lull of your thoughts. You shook your head to clear you from your daze. Your hands were plunged under warm soapy water, a plate held in your motionless hands. 

“There you are, I thought I lost you for a moment.” Jungkook’s mother giggled, her small hands delicately drying the plate in her grasp. 

You gave her a gentle smile in response, lifting the plate from the water and giving it one more rinse before handing it over to her. There was one upside to this endeavor, you had someone you could call a friend. You liked her, it was hard not to with all of the time you spent together. Her warm, motherly nature was comforting in a place like this. And it made you miss your own mom even more.

“Jungkook seems happier lately.” She mused, gazing out of the window above the sink. You followed her line of sight, seeing Jungkook and his father outside on the back deck with the red flare of a cigarette tucked between his father’s lips. 

She wasn’t wrong, ever since you had started playing along he seemed more relaxed, happier even. Even now a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he listened to whatever his father was saying. But you could tell he wasn’t really listening, his eyes had that far off look to them like he was somewhere else entirely.

“I guess I have you to thank for that,” She said softly, setting down the freshly dried plate to turn and look at you. “I’ve never seen him so happy before. Jungkook was always a quiet child, he kept to himself for the most part. But you bring out parts of him I rarely got to see.” She smiled.

Yeah, the depraved parts are what you brought out. You let out a gentle sigh, welcoming the faux smile you had grown accustomed to to settle on your lips. “I wish we could have met on different terms.”

That wasn’t a total lie. 

“I know, sweetie. The first couple years are always the hardest.” She replied, lightly resting her hands on the tops of your shoulders with a tender smile. “It just takes some time for people like us, outsiders, to get used to their way of life.”

This wasn’t the first time she had told you this and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes you forgot she wasn’t just a mother, she was a person who has been brainwashed so meticulously you had no doubt all of the work that had been done on her had no way of coming unraveled. And you would be damned if you were going to let that happen to you too. You liked her a lot, and she liked you too. But you had no doubt in your mind that if it came down to it, she would never help you escape. Most likely, she would turn you over to her husband and son. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even the person who had once been like you.

“I hope so.” You lied through your smile, gently squeezing her wrist in affirmation. Ever since you had stopped crying, it had become easier to lie. 

The sliding glass door off of the kitchen slid open with a click, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting into the kitchen. Jungkook’s father stood in the doorframe, peering into the kitchen and settling his gaze on you and his wife. He fixed you with a stern look, the look in his eyes practically freezing you to your spot like a deer in headlights. 

The only ones you were fooling were Jungkook and his mother. That much was obvious. 

“Baby!” Jungkook called, his bunny smile and doe eyes catching your attention from behind his father's shoulder where he was standing on the porch. 

He looked so relaxed compared to the first few weeks you had spent with him. Had you already lulled him into the belief that you were finally becoming compliant to his demands? You couldn’t be too sure. He was leaned back against the deck fencing, his elbows propped up behind him on the top of the fence. His one leg was a little stretched out in front of the other one as he looked at you, the golden cast of the setting sun bathing his lithe form. He looked like any other normal guy on vacation at the lake: a pair of ripped jeans tucked into thick boots and an open flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Your eyes lingered over the tattoos that decorated his arm, he really would have been any girl’s dream guy. It was a shame that he had to warp that into a nightmare.

Jungkook’s smile widened eagerly as he motioned for you to join him. Outside. 

Your heart began to flutter in your chest, it felt like the wings of a hummingbird thrumming in anticipation as the latch of its cage was lifted. You tried your best to calm yourself, you remembered what happened the last time you had fled into the woods, it had only taken mere moments for him to find you once again. You had not a doubt in your mind that Jungkook knew these forests better than anyone. You couldn’t run, not just yet. You hadn’t fooled everyone. You were sure that a better opportunity would arise. 

You took a calming breath and quickly dried your hands off before approaching the door. Jungkook’s father remained in the doorframe, his presence casting a shadow over you. He scared you far more than Jungkook did, and for the first time in your life you were willing to run into the arms of your captor if it meant he would keep you out of the way of his father’s wrath. That was the one thing you were sure of when it came down to it - Jungkook would protect you if he was in love with you like he claimed to be.

Your head was bowed low, your eyes fixed to your bare feet and the tile beneath them. You looked like a rabbit - you remained still like it would stop the curious predator from approaching. 

“Don’t try anything if you know what’s good for you.” He whispered lowly, his voice was gravelly and deep in his chest. The smell of smoke wafted under your nose as he stepped to the side, allowing you access to the deck. You flinched from his sudden movement before hurriedly rushing past him and outside. 

The fleeting sun felt so good against your skin, your chest heaved as you took in a deep inhale of the fresh air. It felt like layers of clothes and weights had been removed from your body and the oppressive weight of Jungkook’s father’s stare was confined to the inside of the lake house. This was the freest you had felt in weeks, or what had most likely turned into months. Time was escaping you faster and faster every day.

You jolted in surprise, your eyes fluttering open as Jungkook’s fingers grazed the smooth skin of your hand. You hadn’t heard him approach in your moment of euphoria. He looked down at you with a gentle smile and a gleam to his chocolate brown eyes. He was made for sunset, his skin was practically glowing in the golden filter of light. You had never wished more in your life that he hadn’t met you the way he did. The more time you spent with him the more you wondered what it would have been like if he had talked to you that first day of classes. Would he have still gone this far? Those were dangerous thoughts to be thinking, but when he was this gentle with you it was hard to stop the prick of tears at the corners of your eyes. He confused you so much, and you knew what this was. Acting can sometimes feel more real than it truly is. The last thing you wanted was to fall victim to Stockholm syndrome. And you knew you weren’t, he still made you uncomfortable and he had done awful things to you. Thoughts like those could override any one of his sweet, innocent looks. For now. If you didn’t act faster, time would grasp you in it’s clutches. 

Jungkook raised his hand to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking the flesh of your cheek as his other hand came to rest on your waist. He looked at you like you were the center of the universe, like nothing else mattered to him anymore. His touch was warm but his gaze was uncomfortable. You didn’t want him to look at you like that, like he was in love with you. Not after everything he had done. 

But you also couldn’t deny that there was a part of you that understood him. His father was fucking horrible and he had you, his wife, and his son all under his thumb. Jungkook and his mother were captives just as much as you were. That was the only sympathy you had ever felt for him.

Jungkook’s eyes had slid shut, his large hand encircling your wrist and raising your open palm to his lips to press a light kiss to the center of your hand. That was something he had started doing, but you never dared to ask him about it. You had assumed it was his way of keeping himself together, like he was taking a small hit instead of drowning himself in ecstacy. It was like he was pacing himself with you.

“Walk with me?” He whispered, his eyes slid closed as he breathed in your scent, the two of you encompassed by the light of the setting sun. 

“Okay.” You answered softly, trying to keep your legs cemented to where they were before they took flight and had you fleeing the lake house once again. 

Jungkook smiled at you again, his fingers hastily lacing yours with his own. His tight grip would be enough to keep you grounded for now. 

He led you down the steps until your feet met the soft grass once more. The cuts to your feet had healed and the feeling of the grass between your toes was soothing and comforting. Jungkook’s grip was loosening and  allowing him to gently tug you in the direction of the lake. You had only seen it from the windows of the house and just barely when it was illuminated by the moon that night you had tried to flee for the first time. You pushed down the thoughts of escape as your pace began to match his, your hands hanging between the two of you and swaying gently as you approached the little beach at the edge of the large, blue lake.

Your eyebrows began to knit together in confusion as you caught sight of the full stretch of the beach. There looked to be a little porch that began on the grass and stretched over the sandy beach. It had a wooden terrace stretching overtop decorated with fairy lights and was exposed to the sky above. You could see there was a thin air mattress set on top of the deck area covered in various pillows and blankets with a cooler set aside. It was insanely intimate and bordered on romantic. Had he set this up for the two of you?

You shivered in discomfort, unsure of what to do. Maybe you should suggest walking down by the water, you really didn’t want to go over to that “love nest.”

“Arms out.” Jungkook suddenly said, sliding in front of you. You looked at him in confusion until he set his hands on your arms and raised them up by your sides. He wordlessly slid the flannel off his shoulders and began to help you slip the sleeves onto your bare arms. He thought you were cold again. At least you could use that as an excuse during your ploy.

The shirt was big on you which was no surprise at this point. All of his clothes were baggy on you, most of them were baggy on him too. You looked like a child who had gotten into their parents closet. But the look in Jungkook’s eyes spoke volumes. It was a possessive thing, he liked seeing you in his clothes, he liked it when his scent lingered on you. He liked that he had you where he wanted you. Little did he know, you had him where you wanted him as well. 

Once he was done fixing his shirt around you he smoothed the collar down and sent a smile your way. “Come on.”

Jungkook tried to walk forward, your grip on his hand stopping him short. He pivoted on his heel, the sand kicking up slightly. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

Your teeth sunk into the flesh of your lower lip as your eyes focused on the sight of a little crab crawling quickly across the surface of the sand. “Can we go over there?” You asked, jerking your head in the direction of the lake. 

Jungkook turned, his dark eyes settling on the waves rushing over the shallow drop off of sand. “Hm, not today. It’s pretty cold, I don’t want you to get sick sweetheart.”

“I won't,” You tried once more, your eyes wide and pleading. “Jungkook-”

“We’ll go tomorrow.” He cut you off, his eyes boring into your own. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know that this wasn’t up for debate. If he wanted to do something that badly, he was going to do it. He gave your hand a firm tug and pulled you into him, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders and tuck you into his side.

You didn’t look at him as you walked, your eyes fixed to the sight of your toes turning over the sand as you walked. But you could feel his stare burning into the side of your head like it always was. Every time you thought just maybe he couldn’t be that bad, he reminded you quickly of what your situation was like. He has the final say in everything, whether he agreed or disagreed with you. 

The two of you stepped up onto the little wooden terrace, Jungkook taking a seat on the mattress and pulling you down in between his legs allowing your back to lean up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and set his chin on the top of your head. The sun was just beginning to sink below the horizon of the lake casting an ethereal glow over the water. 

You were glad you didn’t miss this sight, you supposed. It was probably the most uplifting thing you had seen in a long while. It wouldn’t be long now before the sun disappeared and it would be dark across the lake. Already the lights strung up above you seemed to be growing stronger as the sun faded away. 

You could feel Jungkook’s hand coming up to play with your hair, his touch the most delicate it had ever been. It was so gentle that if you closed your eyes you could pretend it was just the wind ruffling your hair. He spoke your name softly, the hand that had occupied your tresses caressed the length of your arm and settled on the top of your hand. Your brows knitted together in confusion as you felt his other hand flip yours over and settle something in the center of your palm. It was smooth, cold, and metallic to the touch with hard edges. 

You dropped your chin and searched for whatever it was he had just given you. He laughed softly, cupping your palm shut so that you couldn’t see.

“Ask me.” He simply said, his eyes aglow with mischief.

“Let me see.” You said, trying to pry your fingers open beneath his hold. It was no use.

“Try again, maybe a little nicer this time.” He teased.

 You huffed in frustration, already over whatever he was up too. “Jungkook, give me back my hand, please.” You said, adding more emphasis than needed on the “please.”

He chuckled low in his chest and released his grip on your hand. Without thinking you uncurled your fingers and looked at what he had given you. On sight you felt a wave of nausea roll through your stomach, your heart dropping in your chest. 

Sitting delicately on the smooth skin of your palm was an engagement ring. 

You couldn’t move, you were frozen in absolute fear. The only thing you could feel was the violent thudding of your heart in your chest and the beginnings of a cold sweat on your neck. You had either played your part too well, or Jungkook was more than aware of what you had been doing. You couldn’t rule out his father either, he was just as likely as having a hand in this. 

“I’ve waited for ten years to ask you to marry me, and I can’t imagine a better time than now to finally ask you.”

You were spiralling, you could feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming. Your vision was focusing and unfocusing, the sound of your rapid heartbeats pounding in your eardrums. Were you having a heart attack? It felt like you were having a heart attack. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like your lungs were swelling and cutting off any oxygen that tried to slip into your mouth. 

But there was one thing you could focus on, he said ten years. That math didn’t make sense, when the two of you had first met in highschool and that was only four years ago. 

“Ten years?” You echoed, the panic clear in your voice. How many more secrets was he harboring?

He hummed in response, his slender fingers picking up the diamond embedded ring from your grasp. You hadn’t realized how tightly you had been holding it until he took it from you, the diamond had made little incisions in your palm that were running with specks of blood. 

“I first met you when we were freshmen, but I first saw you when we were little.” He reminisced, a far off look in his eyes as he toyed with the ring. “I just caught a glimpse of you, but that was enough. You were wearing a white sundress and the cutest little butterfly sandals. I remember I asked my mom if you were an angel. She told me no, but I told her that I was going to marry you anyways because you were so pretty. And I kept my promise, didn’t I? 

You could feel yourself fading faster than the sun, you were so confused and panicked your body was on the brink of shutting down. You could feel the burn of bile rising up your throat as he lifted your left hand and gently slid the ring down your ring finger.

“You don’t have to say yes, but you can’t say no.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “That’s how it works in my family.”

~~~~~~~

You don’t remember much of what happened before you passed out, but you did wake up wrapped in Jungkook’s arms in his bed under the blankets. And that goddamn ring was still on your finger. And if things weren’t already bad enough, then they were bound to get worse. You were getting “married” in only a few days. 

To say that was jarring didn’t even cover half of what you were feeling. Not only was Jungkook trying to keep you bound to him in every way possible, but it was going to happen and fast. You tried to calm yourself by remembering whatever ceremony you were going to go through would not be legally binding. You wouldn’t actually be married in the eyes of the law. The two of you would have to get a marriage license and have it approved with witnesses, and there was no way you wouldn’t get help if you were dragged to a courthouse. Jungkook was persistant but he wasn’t stupid. This would be purely symbolic, and nothing more. But that thought did not drive away your stress or the butterflies in your stomach. 

And of course your short days full of trying on various dresses and hairstyles did not help one bit. Jungkook’s mom was excited, her face aglow with pure happiness as she chose dresses on your behalf and made even more decisions regarding  the ceremony on your behalf. Apparently, that was tradition. The “outsider” was rarely involved in situations like these, the mother in law and the prospective spouse took care of everything. You were too sick to your stomach to do anything, no matter what you said you knew that Jungkook wouldn’t listen to you. He had waited ten years to propose he said, there was nothing that would stop him from finally getting what he wanted. And once the two of you were “married” you were out of excuses to deny his advances. You were so fucked. 

Maybe you should have ran into the woods again when he had taken you out of the house. You should have just thrown caution to the wind and tried again. No, Jungkook would have caught you. You knew that. Maybe it would have been better to lay yourself in the lake and float away into nothingness. But you knew, no matter what you did or where you went Jungkook would follow you to the ends of the earth. He was inescapable, and the thought of that left you with an intense feeling of claustrophobia. Much like the prey you were, he would hunt you down and corner you with no possibilities of escape before going in for the kill. 

It still wasn’t time to run yet, you had convinced yourself of that. Now really would be the worst time to flee with the influx of members of Jungkook’s family arriving for the “wedding” that was to take place. Just the thought of that word had your stomach churning in unease.

His family was much larger than you expected and, to your horror, they all were just like him. Every single one of them knew about your predicament, and in fact amongst them were people like you who had been dragged into this life. Amongst the supposed wedding party were kidnappers and victims who were all coming to celebrate another successful hunt and capture of a prize. 

It only took five days to gather everyone and everything for the ceremony. It had all been rushed in order to get you to this point where you were once again in the room you had first woken in when Jungkook had taken you. Or, as his mother liked to call it, the bridal suite. The room itself hadn’t changed though, the walls were still that off white color, the barred windows still surrounded my lacy, gauze curtains, and the bedspread was still baby pink, white, and frilly. The only difference was the wedding gown hanging from a hook on the bedroom door.

You ran your fingers through your freshly washed hair, knotting the tresses in your hold and tugging in anxiety. Your leg was bouncing rapidly, how had it gotten to this point? How were you supposed to go out there and do this? You couldn’t. Not when you were about to be surrounded by kidnappers and their pets kept closely to their side. 

A knock to the door had you rocking back in surprise, your head jerking up to see who was there. The door remained shut and silence followed suit. You looked on in curiosity until a voice called your name through the door. 

“Are you decent, sweetheart?” It was Mrs. Jeon. 

“Yes.” You replied, your voice cracking. The shower you had just taken wasn’t enough to hide all of the crying you had been doing all morning. But at least you didn’t have to see Jungkook, that was one upside. He refused to come near you until the ceremony, he was a firm believer that it was bad luck to see you beforehand.

You were grateful. 

You heard the click of the lock being undone before you saw the door swing open and Mrs. Jeon pocket the key she held in her hand. She looked happy, far more excited than you had anticipated. She was already done up for the ceremony, a formal dress laid over her figure and her hair twisted into an updo. She was naturally pretty and you could see what resemblance she had to her son. It sent a chill down your spine.

Not much was said between the two of you as she ushered you over to the vanity, gently gripping the tops of your shoulders and guiding you down onto the stool. Her work was done quietly and delicately. And you were so out of it, you didn’t pay much attention. Your eyes were dull and unfocused, staring into the mirror but not processing what you were seeing in the slightest. 

“Sweetheart, what I’m going to tell you will be very important so I need you to listen closely.” She hummed, her hands fluttering around your face as she began to lightly apply makeup. “Have you ever been to a wedding?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as she gently applied eyeshadow to your lids. “Yes.”

“Good, then you already know what to expect. But, there are going to be some changes.” She said, tilting your head back with a feather light touch. “During the ceremony, don’t say anything.”

“What?” You asked, your face tensing in confusion. You felt her hands gently tap your cheeks, a silent way of signaling you needed to relax the muscles of your face. 

“Jungkook will take care of everything, vows and all. You just need to be there as he does so.” She explained. That made sense in some twisted way. If no part of the ceremony involved you talking, then you couldn’t exactly say no. “The objections will be left out as well.”

How ironic. 

“Other than that, things will go exactly how you expect them too. As long as you do your part, everything will be just fine.” She smiled as you opened your eyes once more. 

You felt her hands lightly smoothe your freshly styled hair, a fond look gracing her kind features. You felt a strange connection to her, you supposed it had to do with your shared experiences. She was taking on the role of a twisted mentor, imparting some of her “wisdom” onto you to help you as best she could.

The part you were most scared of came next, the dress. You tried your best not to look at yourself as the chiffon and lace slid smoothly over your bare skin. It was cool to the touch, light and airy unlike most dresses you had seen brides wear. By all rights it was stunning, you only wished you didn’t have to wear it if it meant that you would be walking down the aisle towards a man you never dreamt of being yours.

You wore no veil, and for that you were thankful. You couldn’t stand the thought of Jungkook having to lift it from your face like you had seen done before time and time again. Instead, a halo of white carnations and fabric butterflies graced the crown of your head. They were real, their scent fresh and welcoming. A part of you ached at the thought of them withering away, their stems having been sliced apart. They were beautiful, but would only be that way for a fraction of time.

You seated yourself on the edge of the bed, your bare feet gently grazing the silk of the comforter. Your heart was pounding wildly, this was a different type of fear you had never felt before. It was the anxiety of having to provide a performance for all of Jungkook’s family and the knowledge that you couldn’t run. 

Mrs. Jeon knelt down to the floor, a soft groan falling from her painted lips as she felt the ache in her knees. She reached a slender arm out underneath the bed, retrieving a white box tied closed with a satin ribbon. You looked on in curiosity as she carefully untied the bow and set the ribbon on the mattress.

“I wore these, Jungkook’s grandmother wore them, and the women before her.” She explained as she tugged the lid of the box free.

Upon seeing what laid inside the box, tears immediately began to prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart pounding wildly against your ribcage. Your shaky hand came up to cup your mouth to stifle any cries that attempted to escape. Held between the soft hands of your captor’s mother was a set of leg cuffs, each cuff meant to be sealed around your ankles that were held together by a length of chain that would prevent you from taking the strides you would need to run. They were treating you like a prisoner. 

“I-I can’t put those on,” You choked, “Please, please don’t make me do it.” You sobbed, shuffling away from her as best you could. 

“Oh, sweetie.” She cooed, setting them back down into the box and bringing you into her motherly embrace. “It’s only for a short while, I promise they’ll be off by your first dance. And they’re not as heavy as they look and no one will see them under your dress.”

“I don’t want to.” You sniffled as her fingers gently tapped away the tears in an attempt to stop your makeup from running. 

“I know, neither did I.” She sighed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Jungkook thought you didn’t need them but my husband thought it would be for the best.”

You froze at what she said. His father wanted this. 

“He’s a man of tradition for sure.” She giggled, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to relax you. “It’ll be quicker than you think, trust me.”

There was no room for debate, you had learned that quickly with the Jeon family. They always got their way and never took no for an answer. You experienced that first hand. So, all you could do was close your eyes, clench your fists, and tense your jaw as she snapped the cold metal cuffs around each of your ankles. 

“See? Not so bad.” She hummed before taking your hand and helping you to stand. “Everyone is waiting on us, it’s best we don’t keep them waiting any longer.”

She guided you out of the room, the sound of the chain connecting your anklets dragging over the wood of the floor sent a cringe to your face. They were loud. From what you knew, the ceremony was to take place outside right in the fringe of the forest. At least there would be grass and maybe then they wouldn’t be as distracting or cacophonous as they were now. At least that was what you hoped, it was like if you pretended they weren’t there maybe they would actually disappear. 

You didn’t make it far before you felt that familiar, sharp glare digging into you. His father was already here. 

“Now, since your father won’t be able to give you away we’re going to. Isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Jeon smiled, a sharp contrast to the stoic face of her husband. 

The thought of having to wrap your arm around his own nauseated you more than anything. Being with Jungkook was like heaven compared to his father. You feared his hold and gaze to the point that you craved Jungkook’s touch. Anything was better than having to be that close to a man so evil. 

You didn’t respond, fear having paralyzed your throat. It didn’t matter what you said, it was going to happen anyways. That much you knew to be true. 

The three of you linked arms, you in the middle of the parents of your kidnapper. Mrs. Jeon held your left arm gently, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your forearm. Mr. Jeon gripped you tightly, his hold unrelenting and harboring a warning. You wouldn’t be surprised if once he released you his fingerprints would be left behind as purple marks to your skin. 

As the three of you began to walk and exit the lake house, your inescapability became far more apparent. You could see the large crowd of people waiting for you, their eyes burning into you. From the large group, everyone was lining the aisle with their arms linked like they were creating a chain of people in preparation for you. With a horrifying realization you came to understand what they were doing. They were forming a wall on either side of you, creating a tunnel to walk through that would prevent you from escaping. 

They had planned everything out perfectly, years of trial and error and countless “weddings” allowing them to perfect their formula. They knew what they were doing and had no intention of letting you go. They were all sick every single one of them. 

And what was most likely the most upsetting sight was the children in the group, even they  

joined in on the human paper chain. They were little blank slates, perfect models that were trained from day one on what their way of life would be. You couldn’t help but see Jungkook reflected in their gaze. In your mind you could picture him as a small boy, large brown doe eyes watching a bound bride floating down the aisle in her white dress. It was no wonder he was so fucked up, and evidently those children would grow up just like he did. 

This was the first time you thought about fixing Jungkook, as you were walking through the tunnel of people, white petals crushing beneath your feet, and the drag of the chain between your legs like a snake slithering through grass. This was the first time you had even considered that to be a possibility. 

Your head lifted as the thought entered your mind, your gaze flicking around until it settled on him at the end of the aisle under an arch of moss and carnations. He was dressed nicely, but not in a tux like many grooms had been. He wore dress pants, held up by a set of suspenders over his shoulders. The top few buttons of his shirt had been left undone and exposed some of the smooth, tan flesh hiding beneath the fabric. He had also rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, his arm of tattoos proudly on display. He looked relaxed despite the excited smile that lit up his face and the gleam of adoration in those dark eyes. Even you couldn’t deny how attractive he looked like that.

A firm squeeze to your arm had your teeth sinking into your lip as the three of you ceased walking, Jungkook mere steps away from you. This was the first time you wanted to run towards him instead of away from him because it meant you would be able to escape his father. 

“Behave.” His father whispered just beside your ear, his voice deep in his chest and laced with warning. 

Without another word, his hand slipped down your wrist and guided your hand into his sons. And just like that, he and his wife turned and took their seat. And you could finally breathe again. For now. 

Jungkook was smiling at you, that familiar bunny like grin gracing his lips. His hands cradled your own, holding them between the two of you. You were sure he thought all of his dreams were coming true. He tense his fingers, giving your hands a firm squeeze of excitement. You had never seen him happier.

You could see an older gentleman beneath the makeshift altar, you assumed he was there to “officiate” the proceedings. You couldn’t help but zone out, the sight before you was distracting. The makeshift wedding his family had created would have been something out of a dream had this all been voluntary on your part. Forest weddings had always appeared to be so beautiful, and now that you were here you couldn’t help but agree. Strands of green moss formed a canopy above the wedding party, delicate vines of white flowers hanging from above and all around you. The aisle you had walked down had been made of moss, grass, ferns, and flat stones littered with white flowers and petals. 

It was absolutely breathtaking, and you knew once the sun went down and the fairy lights flickered to life it would be even more stunning. 

You were suddenly snapped out of your daze as you felt Jungkook's hand cup the side of your face before leaning down to you and pressing his lips tightly to your own. 

You had missed the entire thing. 

You could vaguely hear the cheers of his family behind you as he held you close, kissing you surprisingly hard in front of his entire family. You could feel your stomach tightening in anxiety and your face flushing with heat in embarrassment. You felt him pull back for a moment, hot air brushing over your lips before he reconnected with you again, and again, and again until you grasped the fabric of his shirt and pulled him away. 

He smiled at you in satisfaction as his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. He was showing off, letting everyone know that you were his and that there was nothing you could do about. 

Your heart was in your stomach, the dread piling up as you felt him tugging you back down the aisle. He giggled as you almost tripped, his strides too long for you to keep up with when your gate was impaired by the length of chain connecting your ankles. Without a word he turned and scooped you up in his arms, ironically carrying you bridal style back towards the lake house where the “reception” was to be held. 

You turned your head to look over his shoulder, your eyes widening as you watched his family rushing after the two of you in what could have very well been a stampede. Your eyes lingered on a few of the people coming after you, it wasn’t hard to see who was an “outsider” like you. They had that same hopeless hollowness to their eyes, their will having dried up a long time ago. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as you caught sight of one woman. She walked quickly, trying to keep up with the man beside her as she adjusted the infant in her arms. She looked tired and depressed beneath her layer of makeup. You could see the strain of her smile smooth away when her eyes connected with yours. You could see the message she was sending you clear as day without saying a word. 

“I’m sorry.” 

~~~~~~~

The reception was the most normal part of the wedding and something you were more familiar with. The only change was instead of the garter removal, your leg cuffs were removed. There was a part of you that was glad you were spared the mortifying experience of watching Jungkook’s head disappear under the chiffon of your skirt and feeling his lips drag across the length of your leg as his teeth pulled the garter free from you. 

Although, the leg cuffs were just as horrible and embarrassing. You were certain if you didn’t calm yourself down you would be throwing up all over the pristine white dress you wore. You could visualize the pure horror that would spread across Mrs. Jeon’s face.

You were sure that that wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened though. But tonight you had been doing your very best to hide your disdain for everyone there, you still had a part to play regardless of the situation you had been put in. You didn’t have to look happy, you just had to hide your fear to the best of your ability. 

That was easier said than done. 

It was when Jungkook left you alone with his sister that your facade began to crumble away. 

“Jimin, Taehyung!” He yelled, his eyes lighting up as he darted away from the table you were seated at in excitement. You watched him race across the room to the two men he had called for, locking them into a tight embrace. 

Your legs twitched, the thought of fleeing always at the back of your mind. Now would be the worst time of all times, who wouldn’t be able to see the only one dressed all in white sprinting into the woods. The last thing you wanted to do was start a hunting trip.

The soft delicate call of your name reminded you that you were still in company. The empty seat that Jungkook once occupied has been filled by the slender form of his sister. She looked just like him, but softer and feminine. She had a gentle smile fixed to her lips that reminded you exactly of her mother. There was not a single bit of her father in her, genetic wise.

“It’s nice to meet you,” She grinned. “All of these years Jungkook wouldn’t shut up about you and he only lets me meet you once you’re getting married, that little punk.”

You bit your lip before you could spit anything back. You could feel the blood leave your face as she spoke. It always disturbed you when you remembered for just how long Jungkook had been waiting for you, watching you, longing for you. 

“Hell, he was the first person I introduced to my boyfriend.” She said with a roll of her eyes, “I mean of course I couldn’t take him on my own, he was much too heavy for just me alone.”

Your heart stilled as you slowly turned your head to face her. “Too heavy?” You echoed, hoping she didn’t mean what you thought she did. 

“Mhmm, the first time I saw him was at the gym. He was just so much bigger than me I knew I couldn’t take him home on my own. So, I called Jungkook. He made things so much easier, he really is such a good brother to me.” She said with a fond smile, her eyes seeming to glaze as she reminisced. 

All this time, you had assumed it was only the men of the family that partook in the kidnappings. But no, it was anyone who was an “insider.” Anyone who was born into the family. That explained how Jungkook had made no mistakes when he took you, he had practice with someone much bigger than you were. You quickly reached for your glass of wine, chugging back as much of it as you could to calm yourself before you slipped into another attack. 

“He’s right over there,” She sighed, nodding in his direction. “Jackson and I have been together for about six months now, he’s a tough one to train that's for sure.”

You followed her gaze, your eyes settling on the man that stood mere inches away from her father. He was undeniably handsome, but you could still see the fear etched deep into his face as he stood next to Mr. Jeon. You were confused why he was still there, he was strong so he had to be capable of escape. In fact, you were sure he could take down Jungkook’s father quite easily. That was of course until you realized what his handicap was. You were confused for a moment, it looked like he was wearing a choker perhaps. But, upon further inspection you realized what it was. A collar. 

Jungkook’s sister hummed to herself, setting her clutch down on the table next to you before she undid it and pulled out a small remote. “It’s harder for women like us in this family. Subduing guys like Jackson isn’t easy. But one controlled shock works wonders.” She laughed, a sadistic smile curling into her mouth as she stroked the remote. 

So, that was the part of her father she inherited. 

You could see the horror on Jackson’s face as his dark eyes connected with the remote she held between her dainty fingers. Without her even saying a word he was rushing to her side in fear of her even thinking about pressing a single button on that remote.

You were light headed, the sudden realization of just how horrible this family was allowed the glass of wine to slip from your fingers, the dark red liquid spilling over some of the white carnations that rested in front of you decorating them in jagged, red stripes.

“Baby?” Jungkook’s voice called to you, and for the first time that word was comforting to your ears. In comparison to his sister, you had lucked out when it came to the Jeon siblings.

You sent him a strained smile as you lifted the stem of the wine glass and set it back up right. Your gaze lingered on the stained carnations, a sour thought entering your mind as you realized their purity had been stained, and no amount of cleansing would ever get it back. 

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. Your wife and I are going to be best friends.” His sister smiled as her hand curled around Jackson’s.

The two of you looked at one another momentarily, and in his eyes you saw a mutual message. 

“Please, help me.” 

~~~~~~~

You didn’t know how much more you could take, that was for sure. Everyone there was beyond messed up and sent your heart racing just at the sight of them. You were relieved when the crowd began to drain, leaving only a few people loitering around as the night dragged on. 

You had tackled so much in one day, but you knew there was still more to come. 

As the last people headed to their cars, Jungkook’s mother grabbed you by your hand and led you into the house, leaving Jungkook and his father and his two friends outside.

You stumbled after her in confusion, shaken up by the pace she had set. She led you back into what had originally been your room and shut the door tightly behind the two of you. She leaned against it with a gentle smile to her face, but you could see something else in her eyes. She was concerned. 

“I wanted to give you your wedding present here.” She said softly, crossing the room to the dresser pushed up against the wall. 

“I don’t need any presents.” You replied, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip in stress as you thought of what was to come. You knew you couldn’t hold Jungkook back any longer now that you had run out of excuses.

“I think you’ll need this one.” She said, her voice cracking as she slid her hand behind the dresser and pulled something free. She hid the gift behind her back in both hands as she made her way back to you in complete silence. 

Without a word, she raised your hand palm facing the ceiling and set a container in your hand. On sight you immediately recognized what it was. 

It was birth control. 

“What?” You whispered in pure shock, popping it open to make sure it actually was what it appeared to be. 

You raised your head and your eyes connected with hers. She wore no smile like you had seen her with so many times. Her face looked tired and her eyes were clearer than you had ever seen them before. For a moment, she seemed normal. She seemed to be just like you. No words passed between the two of you, all you needed was to see the expression you had witnessed twice earlier that day.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, help me.”

And now, “I understand.”

The four of you were all the same, people who were suffering and couldn’t escape. She understood better than anyone what you were going through, and she wasn’t as broken as she had originally let on. Some of the original her was still there, a soft ember of a fire that had been snuffed out years ago.

No words passed between the two of you, none needed to be.

~~~~~~~

You heard Jungkook enter before you saw him, your back facing him as you were settled on the edge of the bed. You could feel the bed dip as he climbed on, crawling over to you until his arms could wrap around your waist and his chin could rest on your shoulder. You could smell the wine on his breath as he chuckled.

“Hello, Mrs. Jeon.” He mumbled, pressing his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder with a hum.

A chill ran down your spine at his words, they were foreign to you, they just didn’t seem right because you knew them to be false. He raised his head, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw and turn your head to face him. His fingers lightly stroked the skin of your cheek as he leaned in uncomfortably close. You could tell he was buzzed, a lazy smile stretching across his face as his eyes traced every curve and detail of your face. He looked positively enamored. 

Without any warning he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your own for a moment before pulling back for a breath and leaning in again, and again, and again. 

“I love you.” He whispered against the shape of your lips, his fingers gingerly stroking your cheek as his chest shook with each inhale. It seemed like he could never get used to the feeling of your lips, so warm, soft and wet. How could he not be intoxicated by you?

His tongue gently stroked your lower lip, a whine breaking free from his throat as you kept your lips together, refusing to let him in. Instead of growing frustrated, he let out a soft sigh and pressed another brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, laying a trail of kisses down your cheek and jaw before settling on your neck.

You clenched your jaw, your fingers twisting into his shirt as he began to leave hot, open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your neck, low groans bubbling in his chest from the mere taste of your skin. You could tell how needy he was from the way he harshly sucked purple bruises into your neck, his tongue swiping over each fresh mark with a sweet moan at the end. 

“Love you so, so, so much.” He whispered, his fingers trailing behind your back to pluck at the tiny pearl buttons holding your dress together. You tensed up, but you didn’t push him away. He didn’t stop his assault on your neck as you felt each button springing free, the front of your dress becoming looser and looser with each motion. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips at one particularly harder suck to your throat causing Jungkook to shudder against you as he heard your light cry. He pressed his forehead against your own for a moment, collecting himself while his hands still tried to unloop the back of your dress.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you walking towards me, you looked so perfect, so beautiful. Just like an angel.” He said, his voice shaking as his lips trembled. “I’ve been waiting all day to have you like this, and it was worth the wait.” 

His fingers trailed up the exposed skin of your back, goosebumps raising in their wake. He gently traced the lace of your straps before pulling them down, shimming the delicate fabric free from your torso. His breath caught in chest at the first sight of your bare breasts, the cut of the dress in the back being too low to allow you to wear a bra. 

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, the tips of his fingers ever so lightly tracing the tops of your breasts. He was pacing himself for your sake, but it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep a hold of himself, especially with the ever present tightening of his pants at the back of his mind. 

He suddenly pressed his lips back to yours once again, this time more frantically and harder than before. His hands came up to your shoulders, pushing you back down into the mattress beneath you. He was breathing much heavier now, unwilling to part from your lips as he tried to roll the fabric of your dress down your hips without leaving you. 

He groaned in frustration against your mouth, pulling back to roughly pull the dress down your body and toss it over his shoulder into the recesses of the room. He sat on his knees, towering above you and staring down at you with a carnal look in his eyes. He hastily began removing his own shirt, his irritation growing as he struggled with each button in his haste.

With a final grunt, he pulled his shirt free and tossed it to join your discarded dress. You froze as your eyes trailed over his naked torso, your heart thundering as your eyes settled on his chest. A fresh clear wrap was sealed against his chest over his heart. You could feel your body tense up as you took in the new ink that had been etched into his skin. He had tattooed your name on his chest. 

Jungkook looked back at you in confusion, unsure as to what caused the look of pure fear to seep into the once passive and smooth features of your face. He followed your line of sight ending on the new piece he had.

 “Do you like it?” He suddenly smiled. 

“I got it as my gift to you. You’ll always be right here,” He said, interlacing your fingers once more and resting your joined hands on top of his heart. “I’ll always love you, my good girl.”

All you could do was clench your eyes shut, it was your only way of taking yourself out of this situation. You could feel his bare chest press against yours, his long fingers tracing over every curve of your body as he shook in excitement. How long he had waited for this moment. To have you in every way possible. 

“It’s alright, I know what to do.” He whispered as you jolted from the feeling of his hand grazing the hem of your underwear, “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”

You shuddered as he slid them down your legs, another article of clothing that was meant to join the floor. You were tensed up tight, your legs clenched shut in anxiety as you felt his gaze burn into every feature of your naked body. 

“So perfect,” He hummed, “So beautiful.” He cooed, resting his head on your chest as he rubbed slow circles in your thigh, each stroke sending him closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. 

“Jungkook!” You cried as you felt him force your legs open in one strong pull. 

“Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” He replied before quickly reaching down and stroking the length of your untouched cored. You shrieked at the unfamiliar feeling, clamping your legs closed around his intruding hand. 

“Come on, baby.” He said, coaxing your legs open. “I need to get you ready.”

All you could do was lean your head back into the pillows, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching your jaw as he continued, his fingers ever so lightly coming up to rub firm circles into your clit. You choked a moan back, thighs trembling as you tried your best not to snap them shut once more. 

“So good for me,” He cooed, sucking hickies into the hollow of your collar bone as he pressed his fingers down harder, your hips jerking instinctively up towards the pressure. “So pretty, my wife. Mine.”

He was unrelenting, his tight grip on you sure to reappear as bruises tomorrow morning. He didn’t allow you to hide your desperate whines or shocked gasps from him as he continued to pleasure you, the feeling sending tingles straight from your core all throughout your body. As much as you didn’t want to be with Junhkook, you could admit you were happy he at least knew what a clit was and made this a lot less horrible for you. 

You winced at the feeling of his finger gently prodding at your entrance, a thin layer of wetness coating his finger as he pushed in. You jerked and tensed your muscles at the foreign feeling, trying to pull back and away. 

“Relax. I need to stretch you out.” He said firmly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around one of your sensitive nipples, your tight walls relaxing at the new feeling. And, without warning, he slipped his finger in and began to stroke deep inside you, parts that your own fingers would not be capable of reaching. 

“Fuck!” You cried, tossing your head back as he quickly found that part that made you feel incredibly hot.

“That’s my good girl, fuck.” He groaned into your blushing skin as he thrusted his finger in, grazing that spot that made a new wave of wetness come gushing out. 

“Jungkook!” You groaned, your hand coming between the two of you to lay limply at his chest as you twitched in pleasure. 

He groaned in response, sucking the hardened peak of your chest harder as he continued pumping his fingers, slowly pressing in a second. You whine at the stretch, shaking as you felt his hips begin rutting against your leg, his mouth popping free from you as a needy whimper leaves his throat. 

“I need you so bad, baby.” He whined into your skin, choked groans shaking his chest as he quickened the pace of his hips against your leg and the pace of his fingers strumming against your walls. 

He easily, and embarrassingly, slid his fingers free from your heat, a string of your desire following his retreating digits. Without saying anything he quickly brought his fingers to his mouth and began to suck them clean with enthusiasm, his body shaking like he was in ecstasy just from the mere taste.  

“So fucking sweet.” He moaned, his hands frantically grasping the hem of his pants, shuffling them and his underwear down in one motion. 

You could feel the heat rising to your face at the sight of him, your eyes falling shut once more as your thighs fell closed. He was fucking huge and you didn’t think you could take him. That didn’t really matter now though, did it?

His hands slid down your hips, rubbing small circles in the hallows before he gripped each leg and forced them open and around his slender waist. You kept your eyes clenched shut as you felt him reach in between the two of you, the head of his length brushing against your slick entrance. You were tensing again, anxious for what was to come. You were sure it was going to hurt. You felt his hips push forward and the head of dick just barely slip in as you bared down in fear. 

A soft groan escaped him, his head dropping to your throat. “Baby, you gotta relax for me.”

You whined in response, your body still wound up tight. You could feel him sigh into your throat before his hand lightly caressed your leg and made its way back to your core, his fingers returning to rubbing those firm circles into your throbbing clit. Almost immediately, your walls began to flutter around nothing at the sensual touch, your lips parting as you trembled in pleasure.  And, before you knew it, he forced himself all the way in in one motion. A sharp cry left your mouth as you flung your arms around his neck, tears pricking in your eyes at the sudden flash of pain that invaded your senses. 

Jungkook was shaking above you, his eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy as he forced his hips to remain still. 

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard you could taste your own blood on your tongue. You groaned in discomfort, your cheeks feeling wet as a few tears escaped. You felt incredibly full, so full that it hurt. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing the tears streaked down your face he quickly tried to calm you. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.” He whispered, pressing kisses to each streak of tears. 

“Doing so well for me,” He cooed, his fingers quickly circling around your clit once more to work you through your discomfort with pleasure. “Such a good girl.”

As soon as he felt you begin to relax around him, your hips jerking up into his touch, he began to pull his hips back and slowly slide back in at a frustratingly slow pace. His jaw clenched as he kept himself under control, restraining himself from abandoning all restraint and just railing you like he wanted to.

But, once he felt your hips rolling up into his with that sweet whine of your voice he couldn’t help himself. Before you knew it, his hands were laced with your own and pinned down to the mattress, his pace quickening as higher, breathy moans left his chest, his lips leaving hot, wet, kisses to your neck before he rose his head and connected your lips again. 

You moaned into his mouth, surprising yourself at the sounds you were making. His tongue rolled over your lips and without restraint you parted your lips for him. A deep groan left his mouth as he curled his tongue against your own and pumped his length deep into you with a smooth pace. The only sounds filling the room were choked moans and the slap of skin against skin. 

You were already getting closer, the prepping he had done earlier bringing you to this point, the knot in your stomach tightening with each brush of the head of his dick against that spot deep inside you. Your legs tightened around his waist, your fingers gripping his own tightly as he filled you so good. Your walls were clamping down tightly around him, the feeling just far better than you had expected it to be. 

You could do this, you could use this to your advantage. 

One particularly hard thrust had you crying out against the wet, puffy flesh of his lips. You were sure tomorrow both of you would look like a wreck. Jungkook freed his hand from yours, returning to the soft bundle of nerves that begged for his touch. You cried out at the feeling of his length thrusting in and out of your wet core and his dexterous fingers rubbing firmly into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rambled, snapping into you harder and harder as he felt your warm walls begin to tremble around him. You were going to cum, he could tell. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Show me how good I was, cum all over my cock for me like the good girl I know you are.” He panted into the shell of ear, pressing down harder and fucking into your pliant body faster than before, drawing sharp cries of pleasure from you that you couldn’t keep in any longer.

“Cum for me, please cum for me.” He was practically begging you, you could feel his length twitch inside of you. He was on the edge just like you were, but he wanted you to let go before he did. 

And you did. With a loud cry your back arched, pressing your chest up into his own as you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. Pleasure shot straight from your core and all throughout every nerve of your body, your walls fluttering helplessly around him. You could feel his thrusts become less paced and more frantic, his eyes clenched shut as he chased his release. And the feeling of you tightening so painfully around him was enough to do him in. With a loud moan he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, his hips working himself into you as he came in spurts, your body flinching at the unfamiliar feeling as you tried to catch your breath. 

He whined as he continued to come, filling you up with each pump of his cock. His hips were shuddering with each thrust until he finally fell limp against you. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He mumbled, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your already marked up skin. He still hadn’t removed himself from you and you twitched still from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel his cum and his cock still inside you, like he was trying to stop any of it from dripping out. 

“I love you, baby.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next day you were incredibly sore and wrapped up in Jungkook’s embrace. You were sweating, you noticed. Even in his sleep his grip was unrelenting, strong, and inescapable. 

You had hoped after the wedding his parent’s would have finally left, but that was far from the truth. They were still there, and each week you waited for them to come and tell you and Jungkook that they were ready to go home. You wanted them to leave, but another part of you was still deeply worried for his mother. Her behavior had returned to what you knew, she smiled often, she gushed over her husband, and she coddled her son. There was no sight of the woman you had seen the night of your wedding. 

The only reminder you had of your encounter, was the birth control stashed safely behind the dresser in the room that was never used. You snuck in there every day at the same time to take them in secret.

When your period came a few short weeks after your wedding, Jungkook was visibly upset. He didn’t say anything but you knew what he was thinking. He was hoping the various times you had sex between the wedding and your period would have you fall pregnant. He pouted about it, but simply remarked that the two of you would have to try more. He took care of you, bringing you chocolate snacks, heating pads, and plenty of cuddling. Although you never asked for that last part.

You thought you were going to be safe, that this was the one thing you could get away with this time. It only took a few weeks for everything to fall apart.

You were in the shower when the shouting started. You paused for a moment, tilting your head in the direction of the bathroom door. It was a male who was shouting, but over the sound of the water you couldn’t tell who it was. It was the loud shattering that spurred you into action. In seconds you turned the water off and frantically dried your body, throwing on a hoodie and some sweatpants. 

You swung the door open and walked and quietly as you could down the hallway. The yelling was coming from the kitchen. You pressed yourself against the wall and peered into the room.

It was Jungkook’s father screaming at his mother. It looked like she had been making dinner, various pots settled on the stove as well as a kettle. There were ceramic shards littering the floor, you could only assume a plate had been thrown. 

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, you are the only person in this house who could have done this!” He screamed, slamming down a container onto the counter causing his wife to flinch back in fear. 

It was your birth control. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out? It was a little strange that she was going in there every day at the same time wasn’t it?” He asked, his voice deathly calm. His wife didn’t respond, her gaze pinned to the floor. 

“Fucking answer me!” He screamed, whipping another plate at the wall right beside her head and shattering it into pieces. 

“It was strange.” She echoed, her eyes glazing over. 

“Don’t play games with me, I know damn well she didn’t get them, Jungkook didn’t, and neither did I. If you want your punishment to be easier than tell me the goddamn truth right now.” He snapped.

She was already gone, her mind somewhere else as he screamed at her. You couldn’t stop the torrent of tears from rushing down your face as you witnessed her shutting herself off. Years of toture had made her good at dissociating.

The first hit is what broke you. Without thinking you ran right in between the two of them, wrapping your arms around her as the two of you fell to the ground, cries of pain bursting from your mouth at each hit you endured. He was ruthless, his anger quickly being directed at you. Each punch and kick to your body bringing new blossoms of pain. You stayed firm, your body wrapping around hers to stop the torrent of attacks from reaching her. You could do it for her. 

You felt fingers weave into your hair, pulling you sharply to the ground and causing you to cry out. You struggled as he began to drag you away from Jungkook’s mother by your wet tresses, he was heading to the deck. You had no doubt in your mind he was going to take you outside, torture you, murder you, and dipose of you. 

“Jungkook!” You screamed, thrashing around desperately. “Jungkook! Help!”

You never called out to him for help, never. And that was why he came so quickly. The minute he entered the kitchen his demeanor completely flipped. His eyes settled on his mother, her body laid limp to the floor as she gazed off into nothing. And then he found you, your body being dragged and his father's hand knotted in your hair with marks littering your face. He suddenly reminded you of the Jungkook that took you the first night. His eyes were pitch black and the anger was bubbling just under the surface. 

Your head fell as his father released your hair and you quickly began to scoot back and away from him. You settled yourself in the corner, lifted Jungkook’s mother into your embrace and held her tight. 

As soon as the two of you were safe, he snapped. He grabbed his father by the neck and threw him to the ground, the two of them devolving into a writhing mass of punches and kicks. You could see instantly that Jungkook was going to win, there were no doubts in your mind about that. He had his father pinned quickly and was beating the ever loving shit out of him.

“How fucking dare you!” He was yelling, his face red as he repeatedly laid into him, each hit becoming more brutal than the one before. “How dare you hit my wife! My mother! Fuck you!” He screamed, letting out every ounce of rage he had been holding in. 

You could hear the kettle begin to whistle in the background, the pitch slowly rising as your pulse thrummed strongly. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight before you, you didn’t know if Jungkook was going to be able to calm down. He was enraged. 

His father was laying still underneath him, his face bloodied and the only sign of him being alive the rise and fall of his chest. Jungkook finally stopped, sniffing as he rolled off of his father, his knuckles split and covered in blood. But he had stopped far too soon. His father suddenly lurched, dragging him to the ground and wrapping his hands tightly around his son’s throat. 

You watched in shock, Jungkook’s body squirming as he tried to escape, his eyes darting around to try and find you. And, for some reason you don’t exactly know, you reached onto the counter, wrapped your fingers around a knife and slid it across the floor into his waiting hand.  

You snapped your eyes shut as you began to hear the loud grunts of pain from his father each time the knife struck his body. You held Jungkook’s mother close, your hands covering her eyes so there would be no chance of her seeing. The kettle was whistling painfully loud, your heart beating violently as you listened to what was happening. 

And soon, silence fell over the room. You opened your eyes and watched as Jungkook pushed the lifeless corpse of his father to the floor. He rolled over and looked at you, his face, neck, and hands coated in thick, wet, blood. He was shaking as he came down from his adrenaline high. He dropped the knife from his grip, tears suddenly pouring from his doe eyes as he crawled across the floor to you and his mother. 

Loud, pained sobs wracked his chest as he threw himself at you, crying into your neck as he held you tightly.The scent of blood was thick in the air, the sticky, crimson fluid staining your skin as he gripped you tightly to him. He was inconsolable, sobbing like a child as he refused to let you move. 

There was a corpse in the room, copious amounts of blood, Jungkook, you, and his mother. 

You raised your hand and gently began to stroke his hair, curling your arms around his shaking, blood soaked body. You lightly pressed a kiss to the top of his head in an attempt to soothe him, rocking him back and forth. 

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s okay.”

[sserpente]

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the thing—I don’t normally write sub!Loki at all. However, since Christmas is a time of gifting and making wishes come true and it has been requested quite a few times in the past, I decided to take on an anon request. I can’t write fully-fledged sub!Loki, I just can’t… so I hope this will do! There’s another anon request in there too. I hope you all enjoy it!

Words: 2357 Warnings: sub!Loki-ish, fluff, smut

Additional NSFW warnings: light bondage, oral, usage of anal sex toy

-

You cursed when you stubbed your toe on the door, shutting it aggressively all the while flinging your bag into the corner like it was the reason for all of your problems. You were trembling, anger and exhaustion gnawing at your guts.

When you let out a desperate sigh as you kicked off your winter boots, Loki tilted his head. He had appeared in the threshold leading to the living room on your floor—an entire floor on Stark Tower, all to yourself. Today, however, this very circumstance did not cheer you up in the slightest.

“A good evening to you too, pet.” He said, eyeing you with curiosity.

“I bloody hate working in retail!” You spat in response. “Why are people being so idiotic, can you tell me that? Oh, I want a refund on this obviously used item which I don’t even have the receipt for, oh, can’t you hurry up I need to catch a train—I had hours to spend on browsing but I want to pay for this immediately or I’m just gonna leave, oh, can you recommend a gift for my niece, I barely know her or her interests but surely you’ll find a gift for her because I am too lazy to use my own brain?” You were fuming. Loki chuckled.

“My dear… breathe.” He was never this gentle with any of the other Avengers but then again, you were the only one he had taken a romantic and sexual interest in. You sighed when he approached you to pull you into a tight embrace, forcing you to calm down for him. Your hands wrapped around his middle almost automatically, allowing him to lift you off the ground and carry you into your bedroom.

Loki spent most of his time in your flat here in Stark Tower. Here, he wasn’t always under suspicion of plotting world domination again—and in fact, all he did was reading, stealing your sweets and learning more about Midgardian culture, first and foremost Christmas. Last week, you had forced him through all Santa Clause films and he had actually ended up enjoying them in the end.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your face against his chest, letting his hand stroke over your head. Perhaps you should finally let the cat out of the bag and tell the others about your relationship. Loki could be so sweet… and he loved being pampered by you, even if you made sure to take your time teasing him thoroughly first.

“Is there a particular reason you left me a gift this morning?” He changed the topic. Oh yes. You had almost forgotten about this. You had shoved part of Loki’s Christmas gift into his green and gold socket above your bed before you had left this morning. It was Christmas Eve and since you would be spending the 25th with the other Avengers, you had decided that him receiving part of his gift in private would be more appropriate.

“Me?” You asked, playing innocent. “That must have been Santa, Lokes.”

“Are you going to tell me what exactly it is?” He probed. You giggled, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“I was hoping you’d ask. Where did you put it?” Loki conjured it up seemingly out of thin air—you’d never grow tired of seeing him use his seidr—and handed you a black plastic packaging which contained an equally black butt plug with a prostate massager for men. Loki and you had recently had a conversation about toys for men as opposed to women only and much to your surprise, he had shown quite the interest in the topic. The faces of the Avengers would have been priceless, had you put it under the Christmas tree for him along with his main present.

You grinned. “Lie down on the bed for me—and magic your clothes off, will you?” Loki smiled at your request. He did not often let you command him around like that—but when he did he knew you needed it, to have some fun with his arousal for you to distract yourself from work and other sorrows, much like today. You shouldn’t be in such a bad mood on Christmas Eve, after all.

Still smiling gently, he did as he was told and then slightly raised his eyebrows for you to make the next move. You winked at him after admiring his semi-hard cock for a bit, disappearing in the bathroom. Once you had returned, hands washed, clothes changed and sex toy sanitised properly, you got to work. Loki’s eyebrows shot up all the way when you produced the bondage rope you kept in the drawer right next to the bed and then climbed on the bed as well, straddling his strong thighs.

“Please? Let me play.” You pouted. Loki sighed—allowing you to tie his hands together and then to the bedpost. Both of you were very well aware that he could rip himself free at any time—it was more a matter of it looking pretty and downright hot to have the God of Mischief tied up and at your mercy, at least hypothetically.

He shifted on the mattress just a little when you reached for the toy again which you had already coated in a thick layer of strawberry lube and brought it to his anus. It was designed to directly stimulate his prostate and you positively couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

“What are you doing?” His question was a warning; reminding you it was a privilege he was playing submissive for you and that the… situation could change at any moment. You swallowed, your own arousal pooling in your knickers like a waterfall.

“Trust me? It will feel good, I promise.”

Loki sighed once more—and gasped when you slowly and carefully worked the butt plug inside of his rear. His cock twitched, joyful anticipation mixing with impatience. By the time it was snugly in place, he was as hard as rock and moaned upon you wrapping your hand around him, giving him a few strokes with your hands partially still covered in the strawberry lube you had used.

Loki bucked his hips almost immediately, growling when you drew your hand away again. You chuckled. “You look pretty adorable like that, you know… desperate for pleasure…”

He growled in response. “You will be the one desperate for pleasure and begging me for my touch if you keep this up for long.” He threatened. Your giggle intensified. You felt so much better already.

“Just you wait.” You said, pressing the button of the small bullet vibrator inserted into the butt plug. Loki tensed up when it hummed to life, sending continuous vibrations through his anus and stimulating his prostate.

Then, taking mercy on him, your hand returned to his impressive length, jerking and pleading for attention. A few drops of precum had already formed on his red tip—it was too tempting to ignore. Unceremoniously, you bent down and closed your lips around him, licking over his slit and lapping up all he had to give for now.

Loki tugged at his restraints. A little more strength and he’d tear them apart altogether and he was barely just containing himself anymore already. Knowing he could stop this anytime and pin you down underneath him to just take what he desired for some reason only fuelled his arousal. He bucked his hips in an attempt to plunge himself deeper into your mouth but you were being particularly relentless today. He growled once more, watching how a grin formed on your lips. With a smacking sound, you released him again, continuing to stroke him all the while the prostate massager kept vibrating inside of his rear.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, almost timidly. Loki was an experienced lover, you knew this much. How many Asgardian women had had the pleasure to learn what had earned him the nickname silver tongue you did not want to know and yet, even though his confidence in bed and knowledge of pleasing a woman was exciting, at the very same time it intimidated you.

Loki nodded, blue eyes locked with yours. “Yes. Keep going, my dear.” It almost sounded like an order—one you’d do better not to defy. You took it as an invitation and pressed the button of the vibrator again.

The setting was on high now—but not high enough to tip him over the edge just yet. You needed to hear him whimper first. You had managed once, a few weeks back when Loki had allowed you to tie him up and tease him for a while for the very first time. In the end, it had resulted in him flipping you around and fucking you roughly from behind so hard you had been unable to walk the next day. Your cunt clenched upon remembering how deliciously sore you had felt. It was a risk you were willing to take again.

Loki bucked his hips once more, thrusting up in a steadier rhythm now and desperate for more friction… which gave you another idea. Biting your lower lip, you stood from the bed and peeled off the comfy trousers you had changed into, right along with your underwear. If only Loki could see the wet spot on them as you stepped out of them, he would be grinning like a cat who got the cream but fortunately for you, you were in charge tonight—or at least, for now.

He eyed you like a hungry wolf, growling in an animalistic manner as soon as your slick pussy lips rubbed against his tip and you massaged your clit with it for a while before slowly, painfully slow, sinking down on him and sheathing his cock deep inside of you. You moaned, throwing your head back. Riding him always felt so much deeper than when he was on top… unless he hauled your legs over his shoulders that was.

“More…” He choked out, his blue gaze getting almost feverish, about to turn him into a mindless beast. You stilled, not moving an inch and just kept him inside of you all the while the vibrator in his rear kept stimulating him. He gritted his teeth when you failed to move, bucking up his hips in a desperate attempt to get you to ride him but you decided to take your time. Leaning forward, you began covering his chest and neck in light kisses, tongue darting out every now and then to taste him. Loki was already sweating, his limbs shaking and you knew then just how badly he needed his release. The restraints keeping his hands above his head on the bedpost gave a suspicious tearing sound as he thrust up into you once more.

He was close. He was so close. Smiling, you kissed him and moved back up and into a sitting position. Your fingers found the switch of the vibrator, turning the setting even higher. There was no need for you to move and ride him anymore. Loki came by himself and finally, gave you the whimper you had so desired to hear from him. Your lips parted when he starting twitching inside of you, spilling himself with a groan. His warm seed coated your walls, his cock jerking until he was all but spent. Once he had caught his breath, you turned off the vibrator… for now.

“Get that lovely quim of yours up here.” He ordered with a hoarse voice, once more raising the question whether you had ever truly been in charge of his pleasure. But who were you to defy him? Biting your lower lip, you let him slide out of you, whimpering at the loss of feeling so deliciously full, inched forward until your most private parts were only inches from his mouth and then carefully sat again, your thighs to either side of his head.

Loki wasted no time. Humming contently, he licked over your slit and clit, suckling on your outer lips and circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue pressing against it, massaging it, until you dug your fingers into his raven hair, urging him on. You were so incredibly wet for him it wouldn’t take you long to gush all over him either and so you did. Loki ate you out like you were his last meal, pampering your clit until your body couldn’t take it anymore and you fell, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pure pleasure. You only realised once you lifted yourself off his face because he would not stop that he had wrapped his fingers around the bars of the top of the bed. The bondage rope was torn apart beyond repair.

You smiled, allowing him you wrap you in his arms as he flipped you both around so you came to lie on the bed more comfortably.

“Feeling more relaxed now, my dear?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Much better. Thank you.” Loki hummed in response. “I’m pretty hungry… how about an early Christmas dinner? Just the two of us, without the others.”

“That sounds promising. But first I will need you to get that thing out of me.” He said, eliciting a devilish grin from you.

“I think I’m gonna leave that thing where it is for now. You’ll get a taste of your own medicine. Remember that golden butt plug you made me wear on Christmas last year? Revenge is sweet. So…” You paused. “Are you going to help me cook?”

Loki’s expression darkened, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. “You are going to remove that right now.”

“Nope,” you announced smugly, freeing yourself from his embrace and climbing off the mattress. “I’ll be in the kitchen, whenever you’re ready.”

Truth be told, you never made it to the kitchen. Loki was after you in a matter of seconds, dragged you back into bed and made sure you came to regret teasing him like that. Oh, and you most definitely lost count after at least five more orgasms.

-

A/N: There’s a hint in there for another smutty Loki Christmas Imagine soon to come. Can you find it? ;-)

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥ 

[wondernimbus]

crash landing — harry potter

pairing: harry potter x female!reader

request: Wow, just wow. Your blog is absolutely phenomenal 😍 Can i request Harry Potter x reader where he accidentally injures the reader who isn't even playing quidditch and smth happens? Thank you 💓💓💓

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

Harry isn't the brightest wizard of his age. He's not especially favored by any of his teachers, nor is he known for being a social butterfly—and he's not exactly one to strictly abide by the rules, either. But what Harry has established so far five years into his time at Hogwarts is this: he's good at Quidditch.

Scratch that, he's bloody great at it. If he were to brag about one thing (which he wouldn't, necessarily, but would if he needed to), it wouldn't be the fact that he survived a killing curse from one of the most powerful darkest wizards in history, nor that quite literally everyone in the wizarding world knows his name, but that he's a damn good Seeker. The youngest in a century.

He's been playing the team for five years now, so if there is one thing that is engrained into his mind, it's this:

When he sees a snitch, he catches it.

So when Harry hovers above the pitch during Quidditch practice and catches a glimpse of a winged golden ball fluttering just to the right of his peripheral vision, he doesn't hesitate. Just swerves around on his broom and makes a bee-line straight for the snitch.

Harry zooms towards the tiny ball, hand already outstretched, gaze fixed entirely on it, not even pausing to register the fact that it's hovering above the head of someone sitting in the stands—

His eyes widen, darting from the snitch to the Slytherin girl sitting just underneath it, whose eyes are wide in terror.

Harry's better judgment wins, in the end, but it's far too late; even as he tries to pull his broomstick to the left, he fails. Miserably.

Harry crashes into the stands—into the girl, sending both of them flying into the benches. Harry's head smacks against something hard: one of the seats. Miraculously, he manages to hang onto his broom, but it's at the cost of whoever unfortunate soul he'd crashed into, because he hears the undeniable smack and the resounding "ow!" that follows the broom's bristles hitting someone's face.

One moment Harry's day is going perfectly well, and the next he is half-laying on the benches of the Quidditch stands, dazed, a mere foot away from the Slytherin girl who had landed on the floor next to him, clutching her head in pain.

Harry blinks, groaning as he pushes himself up slowly.

The girl is muttering curses under her breath; she meets Harry's gaze as soon as it lands on her and shoots him a scathing look. "Bloody fantastic. Really," she says, voice dripping with harsh sarcasm as she massages her head. "Yes, of course, just barrel into a harmless spectator minding her own business. Really good job."

Harry starts to blubber out a string of apologies, but then Wood yells, "Harry!" from where he's hovering next to the goalposts. "Are you alright?"

Harry swallows, looking away from the girl. "Yeah, I'm okay, just—just give me a second!"

"I'm not," the Slytherin grumbles. "I've been concussed."

Harry's first instinct is to flush red. "I'm really sorry, I just—saw the snitch and went for it, I suppose, I'm really s—"

"Help me up first, why don't you?" replies the girl, still obviously irked as she looks up at him.

Harry stands up quickly despite his suddenly sore limbs groaning in protest. He sticks his hand out to the girl, who takes it in her own and lets him pull her up so that she can sit down on one of the benches.

"I'm really sorry," says Harry again. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital wing?"

Scrunching her nose, she looks up at Harry.

Harry realizes that this is definitely not the time to be thinking such things, but bloody hell, she is pretty.

She stares at him expectantly, still scowling a little, brows raised as though waiting for a response. Harry clears his throat and wills himself to stop thinking about things that don't need to be thought of (or at least not right now—he has a feeling that a face like hers, albeit one that's glaring daggers at him, won't leave his head anytime soon).

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" he says, swallowing.

She huffs. "S'pose I'm not the only one who hit their head," she mutters. Bluntly, she repeats, "I asked if you were alright."

At this, Harry's brows jump up in surprise. It's an interesting thing to hear, and not just because she's a Slytherin; she doesn't exactly look like the friendly type.

"Er," he stammers out, a little confused but not entirely against her unexpected concern. "Uh, yeah. I'm doing.. doing peachy."

Out of all the things he could've said. Peachy.

Harry doesn't know if he's imagining it—if he has hit his head and this is the result of a concussion—but it almost looks as if the corner of her lips tugs up into a slight smile.

It disappears quickly, that faint hint of an amused smile, but Harry swears it was there—or was it?

She sighs, dropping the hand that's massaging her head back to her side. "Well, go ahead and get back in the game," she says, tone losing some of its scorn but not all of it. "Wouldn't want you missing out on practice, do we?" She side-eyes him. (Harry ignores the way his heart skips a half-beat.) "Best seeker of the decade and all."

Harry stands there a little awkwardly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he looks to her and to the broomstick lying at his feet. "Are you sure you don't need me to take you to the hospital wing?" he asks hesitantly, wondering if he should pick up his broom and fly away, save himself from further embarrassment.

But it doesn't feel right. So even as she glares at him and mutters, "I'll survive a smack to the head", Harry doesn't leave. Instead, scuffling his shoes against the ground, he looks at the rest of his teammates, who continue practicing without him, and then back to the girl.

And maybe it's because of how breathtakingly beautiful she is (under normal circumstances, Harry would say pretty, but that word isn't quite enough to capture how she looks)—but Harry clears his throat and gestures with his hands to nothing in particular, then decides to say, "Can I make it up to you?"

She stiffens just the slightest bit in surprise. Harry's sweaty palms form fists as he tucks them behind his back. "I mean," he begins quickly, just to fill in the silence, "I just. I feel bad—and I don't want to, you know, go around flying around the pitch while you sit here nursing a headache. Doesn't sit right with me, you know?"

The girl purses her lips before turning her head to look up at him. Harry finds himself looking away. Out of all the bloody people he could've flown into, it just had to be the prettiest one.

"Make it up to me with what, exactly?" she asks, flicking her brows up at him.

Harry shifts on his feet. "There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up this weekend," he says. "I could—we could—I'd love to buy you a butterbeer." He pauses, then adds, "Or something."

She stares at him, eyes narrowed just the slightest bit, and then—no, that's definitely a smile. Harry's sure of it. (Unless he hit his head far harder than he thought he did.)

His heart stammers inside his chest as she tilts her head to the side and shrugs. "Suppose it wouldn't hurt as much as a broomstick to the head, would it?"

Harry breaks out into a grin, but then realizes that it probably isn't a good idea to be smiling at the mention of her being hit on the head, so he quickly stops and says, not for the first time that day, "I'm really, really sorry. The snitch was right next to you and—"

"You said bugger all about safety and went straight for it," she finishes, but this time she doesn't sound quite as exasperated as she did before. She doesn't sound very happy, either, but still—Harry allows himself to breathe properly.

"Sorry," he says bashfully.

"It's fine," the girl says, and this time she sounds like she means it. "If I end up fainting in the hallway either today or tomorrow, you'll be the first to know. And then you can start feeling bad."

Harry just barely manages to stop himself from grinning again. Even then, his lips tug up at the edges against his will. "So.. um," he leans down to pick up his broomstick. "I'll meet you at the Great Hall this.. um.. Saturday?"

She eyes him somewhat curiously, lips still pressed together into that almost-smile. "Is this a regular thing?" she asks. "Crashing into girls and asking them to dates?"

Harry's eyes widen. He shakes his head quickly. "No. No way. I wouldn't risk y—"

"Only joking," she cuts him off, and does something that has Harry's heart turning into pure mush inside his chest: she laughs. Harry pauses, relaxing, and wonders if he could somehow go all the way to the Muggle village near Hogwarts, find himself a tape recorder, dash back here, and ask her to laugh again so that he could record it and listen to it over and over.

"You should probably—" she gestures to his broom, then to the pitch. "I don't think your captain would take well to you talking to a girl instead of practicing."

"He'd understand," says Harry, grip tightening on his broomstick. "I mean, especially if it's a pretty girl, but. Er. Yeah." He burns bright red at his own words, scratching the back of his neck and looking away, but not before spotting the smile on her face. "I'll get going now."

"Try not to crash into me again. If you do I'm going to start thinking you're doing it on purpose." She sweeps her arm out in a welcoming gesture, inclining her head as though curtsying. "Fly free, Harry Potter."

Harry swings his legs over his broomstick and kicks up into the air, back into the pitch, and then zooms away.

"About time, Harry!" yells Wood.

But two minutes later, he's whizzing back towards the Slytherin girl, although not as fast as before. This time he means to.

"I didn't catch your name," he says, hovering in mid-air in front of her.

She shakes her head as though in disbelief, then says, loudly, "It's [Y/N]."

"[Y/N]," Harry repeats, grinning. "Has a nice ring to it."

And then he flies away, before Wood kicks him off the team.

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 9

<< series masterlist >>

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 11,5K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of a broken family, abusive parents, conflict and death.

Yeonjun followed his mom inside of the house he used to call home before he left for college. The familiar scent of amber and vanilla welcomed him as he stepped inside.  

The heels of his shoes made a loud ticking noise on the luxurious black marble tiled floor with each step he took. The place hadn’t changed much. The only thing different being the flower arrangements and the emptiness of the massive Villa.  

It used to be way more lively in here. There were always all sorts of visitors in the house, if it was staff, family members, or friends of his dad’s; there was never a quiet moment during the day, which made the silence even more confronting and saddening.  

He sighed putting his bag down, stretching his aching body as a result of the long drive.

“Your room is exactly how you left it.” His mom says timidly. “I guess somehow I wished you’d return home someday so I didn’t have the heart to change anything about it.”

Yeonjun looks at his mother a little puzzled. All of the emotional confessions are taking a toll on him and he isn’t quite sure what he should be saying to her.

Just as the silence was starting to get awkward, they get interrupted.

“Yeonjun? Is that you?” a voice sounds from across the hall.

Yeonjun’s ears perk up and as he makes eye contact with her, his lips curl up into a loving smile.

“Yes, Lita imo, it’s me…” he says shyly as he let the older woman hug him tightly. Lita is the head housekeeper who has been working for the family since Yeonjun could walk.

She’s the one who packed his lunches and sat with him at the dinner table when his parents were too busy working. The only person he truly missed from the household was her. So, seeing her again after all this time made his heart swell.

He just wishes the circumstances were a little different.  

She sighed as she held him at arms-length and studied him for a second. “Did you grow even more? When does it stop? You’re getting scary tall. And where did your baby cheeks go huh?” she says pinching his cheek, making sure to baby him like she used to.  

“Ah-ah-ah” he whines as she let go of his cheek. They were beaming at each other and his mother noticed. A faint smile also on her face as she watched their dynamic.

She never really noticed how close they were until now.  

“I’ll go make your bed. You must be tired from the trip.” Lita says, patting his shoulder before she makes her way up the stairs and into his old bedroom.

Yeonjun watched her go up with a small smile and sighed contently.

He followed his mother into the formal living room and sat down on the couch, letting his fingers graze over the velvety material.

“So…where is he?” he asks looking at his mom.

“He’s in the hospital.”

“Do we go…tonight?” He asks, uncertainty evident in his tone of voice.

“Yes, but let’s have some dinner first alright? I told Lita to make your favourite.”

“I can’t believe you stole the tournament bus,” Taehyun says clicking his tongue.

“It’s not stealing if I have a key.” Soobin argues back. “Besides how else were we all going to fit in the same car.”

The small bus had space for exactly 7 people, so you were glad it was even an option. Soobin being the team captain and all had its perks. He has keys to almost every facility and even the fucking school building.  

“I hope this little stunt doesn’t get me suspended,” he says nervously biting his lip.

“No one will notice it’s missing hyung, it’s summer break.” Hueningkai retorts as he leans forward to pat Soobin on the back. Hueningkai was seated next to Taehyun in the middle row, while you and Beomgyu cozied up together in the back seats as Mia assisted Soobin with navigating in the front seat.

If the situation was any different, this could have accounted for a fun road trip with your friends, but the reality of things was a lot more somber.  

“No, baby no! It’s a left here.” Mia panics as Soobin misses the exit.

“You said the next one!” he whines, slightly raising his voice.

“This is the next one!”  

“Ugh, great. That at least an hour detour,” Taehyun states yanking the phone from Mia’s grip to inspect the route.

“Don’t get annoyed with each other already, we’ve been driving for only an hour,” you say interrupting the couples’ arguing.  

Everyone was tense. None of you knew what the fuck you were even driving towards, where you would stay, what you would do when you’d see him.  It was a permanent decision made on temporary feelings and you were anxious, to say the least, and given everyone’s attitudes, so were they.  

“Well originally it was only 5 more hours, but thanks to someone it turned into 6.” Soobin says, which made Mia glare at him venomously.  

“We’ll be lucky if we arrive before midnight with breaks included.” Taehyun states calculating quickly as he passes the phone back to Mia.

Beomgyu was asleep with his head on your shoulder, ignoring all the banter. You envied his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time and sighed as you fixed a piece of his hair.

“It’s not the end of the world guys.” Hueningkai says calming them down. “I know we’re all nervous and every second counts, but we don’t even have a plan for when we get there,”  

“The plan is to be there for him.” Soobin says tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“No matter what.”

Yeonjun stood frozen on his feet with his hand on the doorknob to his fathers’ private hospital suite. The amount of security he had to go through was of insane proportions. If his mom wasn’t there to confirm that his dad indeed had a son, he was sure he wouldn’t even be able to enter on his own.

He let go of the knob and inhaled sharply before turning around to face his mother.

“I can’t do this,” he says with a shaky voice while his enlarged pupils dart to his mothers’ equally dark ones.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as her brows furrow in concern.

Yeonjun thinks about it for a second but shakes his head in reply.  

If he’s gonna do it, he’ll do it by himself. Though the presence of his friends would have helped, that wasn’t an option.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” His mother assures, and for some reason, that small sentence of encouragement was all he needed. Hell, it was the most encouragement he’s gotten from his mom his entire life, so he took it with both hands.

He nodded to himself, his demeanor shifting to a much more confident one as the look in his eyes changed while twisting the doorknob.

He peaked his head through, knocking on the door softly. The view of his father was blocked by the figure of a nurse but as she turned to look at who was at the door, his father was in full view.

His mom was right, his condition was bad.

The once so powerful and unbreakable businessman Daniel Choi looked everything but those things.

He had lost a lot of weight, his cheeks sunken, hair gray. His lips were chapped and dry, as was his skin. All in all, he looked sick, and far more dead than alive.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened at the sight. There was no way that Yeonjun wanted to show empathy towards the man but somehow, he felt bad for him.  

“Yeonjun, right?” the nurse says as she smiles at Yeonjun warmly.

He just nods in response and notices how his dad has only been staring at the wall in front of him, not responding to anything that was going on.

Yeonjun closes the door behind him and walks towards the nurse, keeping his eyes on his dad.

“He’s sedated to cope with the pain. He can hear you and see you. He responds if you get close enough, though it might take some time for him to process what is going on around him.”

Yeonjun nervously bit his lip, the sudden wave of emotions he was feeling becoming too much for him. He didn’t anticipate this, he thought he could have at least had one last normal conversation with him.

“Does he even remember me?” Is the first thing he says, the sound of his voice made Daniel’s head snap into Yeonjun’s direction and it startled Yeonjun.

His father’s fingers started to twitch in response. His movement became more demanding and the nurse immediately went over to him to calm him down.

“All he’s been asking for the past few weeks is you, Yeonjun. I think he’s surprised to see you too,” she says as she gives your dad a slight smile, patting his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

All Daniel was looking at was Yeonjun. He kept trying to lift his hand to motion to Yeonjun that he should come closer, but the message wasn’t quite clear.

Yeonjun didn’t know what to do, he stood awkwardly frozen in place as he watched his dad become more and more restless.

“Do I need to leave?” He asked a little distressed.

“No, I actually think he wants you to come closer, it’s okay. You can sit next to him on the stool. He’ll appreciate it,” she says holding out her hand as she motions for him to approach.

He took a deep breath and looked his father in the eye once more as he walked towards the bed.  

His dad seemed to calm down as Yeonjun sat down beside him. His eyes scanning his son's face. He was able to grab Yeonjun’s hand, which surprised him, but he didn’t have the heart to pull away.

“I’ll give you two some space, if anything happens; press that button above his bed” the nurse says pointing toward the rectangular looking remote.

Yeonjun nodded, giving her a last look as she walked out. When the door closed behind her, he averted his attention back to his father. Sighing loudly as he looked at their intertwined fingers.

“You must really be out of your mind if you’re voluntarily holding my hand.” Yeonjun thinks out loud, speaking under his breath as he stares at their hands.

He felt tears prickle his eyes. His bottom lip trembling as the first tear escapes his eye.

He felt his father squeeze his hand, which made him look up at him.

“I really do hate you.” Yeonjun says in between sobs. “I do. I hate you.”

His father just looked at him, blinking a couple of times to show that he understands.

“So why the fuck am I even crying,” he huffs. This is a rhetorical question of course. He knows exactly why he’s crying. He’s crying because he’s powerless.

Yeonjun tears turned into frustration as he yanks his hand from his dad’s grasp. Angrily wiping his tears away as he collects himself.  

“You can hear everything right?”  

No response.

“Can you blink once for yes and twice for No.”  

One blink.

Yeonjun sniffed nodding to himself as he organizes his thoughts. “Ok. So, we can communicate,” he thinks out loud.

His confidence returned, he rolls his shoulders back and places his hands on his thighs as he straightens out his posture.

“Why did you want me here?” Yeonjun asks getting straight to the point.

Daniel cocked his head to the side to show confusion, but his fathers’ confusion to the question only confused Yeonjun more.

“You wouldn’t tell mom why you wanted to see me. So why did you.”

His father tried to speak, but it was to no avail as he gave up quickly. Sighing in frustration at the fact that he couldn’t form words.

“Right, that’s not a yes or no question.” Yeonjun realizes, crossing his legs as he buries his face in his hands, lightly massaging his own scalp to release the tension in his brain.

After a few seconds he looks up, catching his dad staring at him intensely. Yeonjun uncomfortably shifted in his seat, noticing how his dad was getting more restless as he tried his best to form words.

“T-t-table.”

Yeonjun’s mouth fell agape to the sound of his dad's voice. “The table? Which table?” he asks getting up. Looking around frantically to catch any clues to what his dad is trying to tell him.

He followed his fathers’ gaze and quickly walked towards the expensive-looking mahogany table in the left corner of the room.

His eyes fall on an envelope with his name on it. His fingers ghost over the paper material, scanning it thoroughly as he picks it up.

He looks back at his dad who was still staring back at him. Yeonjun nodded. Taking the envelope with him as he sat back down on the stool.

“You want me to read this?” he asks, which earned one clear blink.

“Alright.” Yeonjun sighs as he opens the letter.  

“To Yeonjun.” he reads aloud.  

I don’t know whether or not you will read this when I’m dead or alive, but that’s not the point. After you’ve read this, make sure no one else does.

Even if you think I didn’t show interest in your life, I watched your every move. I know about your schoolwork, your team, your friends, the girl you like. I know it all.  

I’ve had people watch you for me ever since I found out I was dying. Which has been years now. I made them write me reports on your character, your skills, and the way people perceive you and I have to say, I was surprised, to say the least.  

You have proven yourself to be a leader rather than a follower. You are passionate, hard-working, smart and competent and will do literally anything to fight for your goals.

The only reason you are all of these things is because you had to work for it. You were never emotionally cradled as a child and from an early age you were aware that success is something you don’t just gain without a bead of sweat

You have seen the world at its darkest before you could feel what true happiness is, and that was not done unintentionally.

Your upbringing might have been tough. But it’s what you needed to become the ruthless and determined person that you are today.  

That same ruthlessness and determination are what Choi Enterprises needs. Which brings me to the point of this letter.

There is no other person on the planet that I entrust with the future of Choi Enterprises other than you.

I don’t trust your mother and therefore I cannot let the company fall into the hands of your mother and her cunning family.  

For your entire life, all I did was make sure you were ready for this moment. And even though it came earlier than anticipated, If you sign the attached documents. It’s all yours effective immediately.  

Power comes with a price that I was willing to pay.  

And I hope that you will too.

-  Daniel Choi.  

Yeonjun blinks a couple of times to let it all register to him. He lifts his head from the paper and looks at his father's hopeful expression.

“You spied on me.” he says in disbelief.

“You spied on me, but you couldn’t send me a birthday card?”  It was a figure of speech, though his dad got what he meant.

Anger filled Yeonjun’s senses. The audacity this took from his father is on another level of crazy.

He got up, kicking the stool he sat on aggressively, making it fall to the floor with a loud thud.

His dad didn’t even flinch. He just kept staring at Yeonjun with the same look from before.

“Tell me.”

Yeonjun says as he inches his face closer to his father.

“Do you regret it?”

Daniel cocked his head to the side in confusion and waited for Yeonjun to continue.

“Do you regret being an abusive piece of shit? The whole, you needed to live through it to become strong shit isn’t cutting it for me. Do you regret it? Yes or No.”

Yeonjun was seething. He was inches away from his dad, fists balled, wrinkling the letter and attached documents in his left hand as a result of his strength as he anticipated his fathers’ answer.

The look in Daniel’s eyes went cold followed by two blinks.

“No.” Yeonjun scoffs. “Of course, you don’t.”  

Yeonjun took a step back, clearing his throat as he swallowed his anger with it.

“Well in that case…” he says inspecting the papers in his hands. He held it in front of his line of sight, making sure his dad can see what he’s about to do.

He held on to each side of the pile of papers, ripping it in half slowly.  

“Take that contract to your fucking grave.” He spits as he throws it into the nearest trash can.  

His dad started to panic, convulsing aggressively in his bed. Gulping for air as he tried his best to move and speak at the same time.

Yeonjun pressed the distress button and stormed out of the room, not bidding his dad another look.  

He slammed the door behind him, startling his mother who was waiting for him in the hall.

“Yeonjun!” she yelled after him. She quickly looked back to the room her husband was in, shocked with the sight of multiple nurses trying to hold him down.

She didn’t hesitate to run after Yeonjun, catching him in the hallway.

“Yeonjun wait a second!”  

He halted his long strides, breathing heavily as he turned around on his heels.

“What happened in there?” his mother asks wide-eyed as she lays a hand on his shoulder in order to calm him down.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says clenching his jaw, shaking his mothers hand off of his shoulder.

“Okay…whenever you’re ready.” she tries carefully, trying not to tick him off any further.  

“Let’s go home. You’ve been through enough today.”  

“Hyung are you sure you put in the right address?” Hueningkai asks wide-eyed as he got out of the van first.

“This can’t be it,” Taehyun says with his mouth agape.  “This isn’t even considered a house. It looks like a damn palace.”  

“I knew Yeonjun’s family was loaded but this…” Mia remarks.

You get out of the car, your mouth going dry as you look at the biggest house you’ve seen in your life. It was modern, yet rustic. The home had huge windows and white pillars and there was a huge stone staircase that lead up to the front door.

“How many bathrooms do you think they have?” Beomgyu gulps, his eyes darting from one side of the house to the other.

“Really? That’s what’s important right now?” Taehyun argues

“I’m just curious,” Beomgyu says rolling his eyes.

“Well..let’s….knock?�� Soobin says with uncertainty peeking through his voice.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you didn’t know what you would walk into. You weren’t sure how Yeonjun would feel to see you again or to see any of you right now. You had hoped the 6 turned 7-hour drive wasn’t for nothing, and that you could talk to Yeonjun with a clear mind.

Soobin took the lead with the rest of you trailing behind him. He sighed looking back at you guys before he built up the courage to ring the doorbell.

All of you were dead silent, anticipating for the door to be opened.

After a few more seconds, the large double doors open automatically, with a timid rather small lady standing in the doorway with an equally confused expression on her face to match yours.

That can’t be his mother? Right? They look nothing alike.

“Ehm…can I help you? It’s close to midnight? You do realize this is private property?” Lita says looking at the group with suspicion.

“Ehm, Hi mam, my name is Soobin, these are my friends…well…Yeonjun’s friends. We kind of…followed him here.” Soobin stammers incoherently. “But with good intent! We just…want to be there for him because…well…we think he’s having a hard time and-“

“Soobin.” You say shutting him up. “I think she gets it.”

Yeonjun heard multiple voices at the front door and came down the stairs out of curiosity. As he turns the corner, seeing a raven-haired tall figure at the front. He knew exactly who it was.

His eyes widened as his pace quickened, walking towards the voices a little faster.

You saw Yeonjun emerge from behind the lady, and when his eyes landed on all of you, he stood frozen on his feet next to her. The first one he made eye contact with is you.

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds before the smaller lady interrupted the moment.

“Yeonjun, do you know these people?” She asks with a much kinder tone as she speaks to him.

“Y-yes, these are my friends,” Yeonjun says breaking eye contact with you, looking at the rest.

“How did you find out where I lived?”

“Y/n found out actually…there was a box in your room with the address on it…under your bed,” Mia says jumping in.

Yeonjuns eyes landed on you once again, giving you a small smile which you reciprocated, not knowing what else to do.  

“Hyung, if you don’t want us here, I’m so sorry. But the way you left, we were worried and-”

Soobin couldn’t finish his sentence before Yeonjun pulled him towards him with a hard pull. The two hugged for a few seconds before Yeonjun let go, putting his hand on Soobin's shoulder as he looked at all of you with pure affection.

“I can’t believe you came all the way here…I don’t know what to say,” he says scratching the back of his head, still a little lost for words.

“How about, come in. It’s freezing.” Beomgyu says giving the older one a bitter smile as he chatters his teeth dramatically to show that he was cold.

Yeonjun chuckled, stepping aside so all of you could enter. And so, you did.  

All of your jaws dropped at the interior and detail that went into the decoration of the place. The hall was huge and connected all of the separate rooms and wings together. Apart from the dark tiled floors, the colour scheme was light. Different shades of whites and nudes made up the interior. It was stylish, yet classic at the same time, with pops of colours from different flowers in huge vases.

“Do I need to prepare the guest rooms?” Lita asks a little flustered at the sudden appearance of 6 more guests.  

Ah…so she’s the housekeeper, you think to yourself as you snap back to reality.

Mia nudged you, mouthing a subtle ‘Marry him’ to you, which you roll your eyes at.

“Uhm, yes. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Lita.” Yeonjun says bidding her a quick nod as Lita walks off quickly.

Yeonjun’s attention focused on all of you again, and Hueningkai barged his way through, ready to hug Yeonjun tightly.  

“Hyung, are you okay? What happened?” he asks as he rubbed the older one’s belly while he still clung onto him like he always does.

His mother stood at the top of the stairs, unnoticed by any of you. She looked at the dynamic of all of you, especially looking at how clingy Hueningkai was with her son. She didn’t peg Yeonjun to be the type for physical affection like this.

A smile crept on her face, moved by the fact that his friends would go to these lengths to be there for him.

She tied her robe around herself, making her way down the stairs. And as she did so, Beomgyu noticed. He nudged Taehyun and motioned for him to look up, so he did, followed by all of you as you fell silent.  

Yeonjun looked in the same direction all of you were focusing your gazes on, and immediately understood why you fell quiet like that.

As she made her way down the stairs, you got a closer look at her face, and the resemblance she had to Yeonjun was almost scary.

“Yeonjun? Who are these people?” Her voice was clear and warm, a little raspy cause she was probably asleep before you invaded her home.

She scanned everyones faces but when her eyes landed on you, they lingered on you, and it made you feel incredibly self-conscious.

Your paranoid ass started to get insecure, thinking she knew something about your relationship with her son, but her attention was quickly averted as Yeonjun spoke up.

“Is it okay if they stay here?” he asked politely.  

“Of course, make yourselves at home. Any friend of Yeonjun’s is welcome here. If you all move to the living room so you can talk, I’ll go make some tea.”

“Thanks, mom.”  

This whole dialogue confused all of you. To your knowledge, their relationship was questionable. But this seemed like a regular Mother and Son dynamic.

His mother disappeared in the massive hall as Yeonjun motioned for all of you to walk towards the living room. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do but he was dying to know why you were here after everything he said to you.

He was sure that no matter the circumstance, you’d never want to see him again. Yet here you were, looking at him with those big doe eyes of yours.  

As the rest of the group admired the rest of the house, walking towards the living room, Yeonjun stopped you by tugging at your elbow lightly.  

Your heart raced as he touched you, you looked down, hooking your pinkie in his before you looked up at his face.

His eyes were sad, apologetic, and insecure. “I…didn’t expect you to come with them…” he says looking at your intertwined fingers.

You sighed, rubbing comforting circles into his palm with your thumb. “Let’s talk later ok?” you say giving him a small yet reassuring smile. He nodded, letting go of your hand, leading you into the formal living room.

He caught Beomgyu playing with an antique object and Yeonjun’s brotherly side immediately kicked in. “If you break that you’re gonna have to work all of your life to repay my mother,” he says sternly as he sat down in the chair opposite from the couch all of you were seated on.

Beomgyu quickly let go of the weird-looking object and cleared his throat. “Ok, spill the beans hyung. What’s going on?” He asks as he sat down on the armrest of Yeonjun’s chair.  

Yeonjun sighed, not quite knowing where to start.

“First of all. I owe all of you an apology,” he starts choking up a little.

“Hyung…” Taehyun says, his eyes getting sad as he watched Yeonjun protectively.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted as Yeonjun sighed. You could swear his eyes were getting watery, and there was nothing more that you wanted than to hold him in your arms right now. You wanted to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you had no idea what was going on yet.

His mother emerged from the entrance with a tray full of teacups and cookies. She put down the tray and stood beside Yeonjun in silence.

“I’m sorry for acting the way I did on the night of the party. The way I acted towards you guys was uncalled for, especially towards you… y/n.”

You lock eyes with him again, and you feel his mothers’ eyes on you as well.

Hueningkai sat down in front of Yeonjun on the floor, putting a comforting hand on his knee.  

Yeonjun gave him a small smile. Out of nervousness, Soobin grabbed Mia’s hand and squeezed it as all of you anticipated his next words.

“That night, I stayed at my uncle's house. The next morning my mom showed up to talk to me. It took some time but…we found some type of middle ground and I agreed to come back home with her for a while.”  

“So…what was the family emergency?” Soobin asks a little confused.

Yeonjun inhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He fell quiet for a second, suddenly noticing the room full of people that cared enough about him to drive all the way across the country to comfort him in a situation they didn’t know of, even though he was being a complete asshole.  

He didn’t know what he did to deserve them. He looked at them individually and his heart started to swell with the intense amount of love he felt for them.

He looked at Beomgyu’s arm around him, Hyuka’s comforting hand on his knee, Soobin’s worried and glistening eyes to match Taehyun’s, Mia’s protectiveness, and your patient yet scared facial expression.

He bit his lip, getting emotional and he felt Beomgyu pull him closer.

“My dad is counting his last days,” he says looking at the floor.

You didn’t know about anyone else, but this was the last thing you expected.

The room fell silent apart from a few gasps. Your heart sank to your stomach and tears start to prickle your eyes as you watch him struggle to contain his emotions. His lip was slightly trembling, his hand covering his mouth as his eyes were big and sad.

“Oh, Yeonjun…” Mia sighs as she rubs Soobin’s back to comfort him as well.

Soobin isn’t one to cry but seeing the people he loves the most go through pain is absolutely heartbreaking to him. He wiped a single tear from his eyes and so did Taehyun as he sighed loudly.

Yeonjun huffed, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes to look at his friends. “Don’t cry. Stop, please.” He starts.  

“It’s going to sound awful, but I’m not sad that he’s dying. My dad was…is a horrible person. He was abusive, manipulative, and unreasonable. There was no one I feared more than that man. Every time I closed my eyes at night I wasn’t scared of aliens and monsters under my bed, I was scared of him coming into my room to yell at me or hit me. I think I’m sadder about the fact that I’ll never get an apology out of him for ruining me. I’ll never hear him say that he was wrong for the things that he did to me as a kid and that’s the hardest pill to swallow.” Yeonjun confessed all in one go.

You swallowed harshly, trying to suppress a sob. Taehyun noticed that you were having a hard time, so he put his arm around you, making you lean into him by subtly pulling you towards him.

“I went to see him today, and even though we couldn’t really communicate the way I hoped we would, he made it clear to me that he wasn’t sorry.”  

“What…” Soobin says in disbelief. “He wasn’t remorseful at all?”

“No.” Yeonjun shook his head, contemplating if he should tell them about the contract and the company, but given the fact that his mother was in the room; he decided against it.

He didn’t know if he could trust her, for all he knew she could be after the money and the company herself. Knowing his mother, she could be just as ruthless as her dad when it came to business matters.

“Yeonjun, we’re here for you. Seriously. If you need anything at all just tell us. We won’t be leaving unless you tell us to.” Soobin states confidently as they look each other in the eye. His words made Yeonjun feel assured, and he bid Soobin a small smile. It was nice knowing that he wouldn’t be going through this alone.

He took a deep breath, shaking the sadness off of him. “Thank you guys for coming, seriously. I think I needed all of you more than I thought I would.”

“Of course,” Hueningkai says.

“Anytime, we’re family,” Beomgyu says as he squeezed Yeonjun’s shoulder.

You heard a small scoff from the left corner of the room and saw his mother with her arms crossed.  

You narrowed your eyes at her, raising your brow.

“Friends are friends, family is family,” she says, genuinely believing her own words.

Everyone was looking at her by now, as was Yeonjun who just sighed, ignoring her.

You don’t know why, but suddenly you feel a surreal amount of anger boiling in the pit of your stomach. You scoff at her statement which made Mia give you a warning look.

“We’ve been more of a family to him than you have been his whole life,” you say clear as day before you can think of the damage that you’ve just done, and just like that the atmosphere turned cold.

Yeonjun’s eyes widened, looking at you in shock.

Soobin uncomfortably shifted in his seat and Taehyun gave you a ‘bitch what the fuck was that’ look.

“Excuse me?” his mother’s tone changed completely. The once so soft-spoken woman turned into the ice queen herself and gave you a look that would normally make you run the opposite direction, but you held your ground by staring back at her fiercely.  

“What she means is…” Taehyun jumps in quickly. “That we truly are a family, we’d go to hell and back for each other and that’s a fact…mam,” he says as politely as humanly possible.

You try your best not to roll your eyes, which Yeonjun noticed. He had an amused smile on his lips, which his mother then noticed and suddenly it clicked to her. You were the girlfriend who wasn’t his girlfriend. The girl that stole her son’s heart, and the girl that talked back to her in her own home.

“It’s getting late. I suggest everyone gets some sleep. You all must be tired from the long drive. We don’t know what is waiting for us tomorrow and if you are sticking by his side like you all say you are, then we better get some good night’s rest.” She says almost diplomatically, perfectly enunciating every word as if she rehearsed it.

You honestly didn’t even think of sleeping, you wanted to talk to Yeonjun, clear the air between you two, and comfort him to your best ability. He just told you his dad was dying, and his feelings were disregarded so quickly that it shocked you.

In your household, a revelation like this would result in hours upon hours of talking about your feelings, whereas in Yeonjun’s home. Feelings are seen as a temporary burden. It was scary how quickly the mood switched from emotional to almost business-like, but Yeonjun didn’t know any better. He was wired the exact same way as his mother because that’s how he had learned to deal with his feelings.

It’s like he only allowed himself to feel true emotion for a little while, seeing it as impractical to be vulnerable. This household really did feel like a business deal, which made your heartache for Yeonjun even more.

Soobin was the first to get up, stretching his tall body before he helped Mia to her feet as well.

Lita emerged from the entrance to lead all of you upstairs to your respective guest rooms.  

Soobin and Mia shared a room, as did Hueningkai and Taehyun. Beomgyu and yourself, however, got rooms to yourselves with attached bathrooms in a whole different wing than the others.

From the outside, his house looked enormous, but from the inside, it was even bigger. You were already getting lost in the halls even though you were in a group. You had no idea where you came from every time you turned a corner and Yeonjun noticed how lost you were, chuckling to himself a little as he walked closely behind you.

You were the last one to be appointed to a room, as everyone else was already settling down.

“This is where you’ll be staying miss.” Lita says as she points to the door across from Beomgyu’s room.

You nod sheepishly, turning the doorknob. Your mouth fell agape at the sight of the room. You could swear it was as big as your apartment. The interior was classic, yet modern. And looking at the way the bed was made you were almost scared to wrinkle the bedsheets.

You swallow harshly, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“This will do, right? If not, I have a bigger option at the end of the hall.”

“N-no, this is fine, more than fine,” you stutter.

Yeonjun stood behind Lita, leaning against the doorframe with a shit-eating grin on his face.

He was enjoying your flustered state, as it took a lot to get your smart-ass anywhere close to dumbfounded.  

You saw the playfulness in his eyes, and you cursed at yourself for being so obviously impressed with everything.

“If you need anything just give me a call with the house phone. The number is on your bedside table. Goodnight.” Lita says giving you a warm smile.

“Goodnight…” you mutter timidly as you close the door behind you after you watched Yeonjun walk off with her.

You lean your head against the doorframe, your mind spinning with all of the things that happened in such a short time frame.  

You sigh, throwing your bag on the bed. You decided to take a quick shower. The attached bathroom looked like one out of a magazine, so it took some time for you to adjust and figure out how to set the right temperature for the faucet.  

You really needed that shower to clear your mind and relax your muscles. You were basically clenching your butt cheeks the whole night out of nervousness, and you could already feel the muscles in your body getting sore. You sigh, finishing up your routine and slipping into an oversized shirt to sleep in.

During your whole routine, all you could think of was Yeonjun, and how badly you wanted to be alone with him right now.  

You stare at the ceiling as you laid on your back, completely engulfed in the soft sheets and pillows of the bed.  

You were wondering how he was doing, if he was thinking of you or if he was asleep.  

You sit up, turning on the bedside lamp as you reach for your phone, ready to text or call him but your actions were interrupted as you heard soft knocks on your door.

Your eyes widened, knowing damn well that it was him.

You put your phone aside and crawled out of the bed with lightning speed. 

When you opened the door and locked eyes with him, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his frame to hug him tightly.

He was surprised by your affection, wrapping his arms around you as well to hold you even tighter.

He closed his eyes as he buried his face in your hair, appreciating the moment.

God, he missed you.

You walked backwards, still in his hold as he closed the door behind him skillfully with his foot.

He let go of you slowly, grabbing your face as he searched for answers in your eyes for questions he hadn’t asked yet, but when you looked at him with the same longing facial expression as his, he knew enough.

He inched his face closer to yours, pulling you in for a soft and needy kiss that you yearned for so much. You stabilized yourself by holding on to his wrists as he kissed you with so much passion and hunger, that your mind went foggy. He pulled away slowly. Leaning his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Hi,” you say shyly, smiling up at him.

Your cuteness made him chuckle softly. “Hey,” he replies, letting go of you reluctantly.  

You sit down on the bed and pat the spot next to you as a way of telling him to sit there. He complies and you face him, looking into his tired eyes.

You remove a stray piece of hair that was prickling his eyes and sigh.

“Tell me how you’re feeling, honestly,” you say taking a hold of his hand.

He takes a deep breath, knowing he can’t bullshit with you. “I’m not sure,” he confesses.

“It’s like one second I’m fine, and I forget what’s happening and the next I’m sad and angry. I feel bipolar,” he says letting himself fall flat to the bed.  

You sigh, scooting closer to him. “That’s perfectly normal. I’m glad you’re still able to feel something given everything you’ve been through.”  

He sighs loudly pulling you down with him, so you were situated on his chest. You comply, knowing that he needed you close for comfort, and to be really honest with yourself, you missed the feeling of having him close like this. You stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s presence in the silence before he decided to break it.

“I’m so fucking sorry y/n,” he says in almost a whisper as he plays with your hair, lost in thought.

You stay silent, getting sad as you think back to your explosive fight. “I should have never slapped you,” you admit choking up. The fact that you did was something you couldn’t get out of your mind nor forgive yourself for. Especially after Soobin told you about his abusive childhood, all you could do was hate yourself for it.  

Yeonjun noticed the crack in your voice and sits up immediately with you still in his arms.  

“Y/n if I was you, I would have done more than just slapped me in the face, I deserved that. It’s okay,” he says shushing you, caressing your cheek in order to calm you down.

You take a deep breath, blinking away the fluid in your eyes before you start to speak. “No, it’s not. And let’s not sugar-coat it. We were both wrong, and we were both right at the same time. I just don’t understand how we go from paradise to hell in a matter of seconds Yeonjun, it’s what scares me about us.”  

He just nods, not being able to counter act your statement because you were right.  

The not being able to live with or without each other was a level of toxicity that you swore you’d never fall for. But yet here you are, wrapped up in the arms of the man who basically told you his best friend could have you now that he’s done with you.

You can’t even tell him how many times those words rang through your head like a painful mantra, but that’s the last thing that you want to burden him with right now.

“I forgive you,” you say breaking the silence. “I really do. I know you only said those things to push me away because you’re afraid to let me in, but you’re not the only one that’s scared Yeonjun. So am I. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone and that’s just…’  

“Scary,” he says, finishing your sentence.

“Yeah..”

Yeonjuns shoulders fell, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “We can figure out what all of this means for us later, but for now I’m just really, really happy you’re here right now.”  

You nod in agreement, kissing his jaw affectionately before you wrap your arm around his waist again, and suddenly his mind flashed back to the little altercation between you and his mother.

“I can’t believe you talked back to my mom like that.” He snorts as he pulls you back down again, making himself comfortable with you laying across his chest. 

“I’m sorry but it was the fucking hypocrisy that did it for me,” you huff a little annoyed as you think back to the moment.

Yeonjun just chuckles, and you feel his chest vibrate as he does so. “I don’t know. I get what you mean but she’s been trying. I can’t move forward with her if I don’t give her a chance to change but…I don’t trust her yet,” he says lost in thought.

“What don’t you trust her with?”  

Yeonjun bit the inside of his cheek, contemplating if he should tell you about the whole ordeal with his dad this afternoon, but since he wanted your opinion on the matter, he decided to tell you.  

“I told you guys I went to visit my dad, right?” He says rubbing your back absentmindedly.

You nod, looking up at him. “What happened?”

“He wrote me a letter saying that he’s been keeping tabs on me, and that he wants me to take over the business because he doesn’t’ trust my mom.”

“Wow, wow, wow. What?” you say sitting up again.

“Yeah, that was a very rough summary,” he says propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“He kept tabs on you?”

“He had people spy on me. It’s scary baby, he even knew of you.”  

Your eyes widen in shock. It’s like you were suddenly involved as a pawn in a very complex game of chess and you didn’t know what to think of it.  

“And he wants you to take over Choi Enterprises?”

Yeonjun just nods, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well…are you?”

“It’s never what I wanted. And It’s not like I want to grant his dying wish or anything like that but…”

“But?”

“It is my birthright.”  

You blink a couple of times, letting his words register. If Yeonjun was seriously contemplating whether or not to take the position of acting CEO, you were sure he wouldn’t need some lame college degree to back him up. He’d drop out of school; move back to his hometown and you’d never see him again. Selfishly it’s not what you wanted, but it wasn’t about you. It was about him.

“If I just let my mom run the company, I could always roll in if I wanted to, but if I would go behind her back and acquire the position myself, it’d break the little trust we built.”

“What if your mom is just using your good heart to get to that position herself?” You ask thinking out loud.

“You think she’d do that?” Yeonjun says genuinely interested, not offended at all by the assumption. If anything, he was happy to have someone to talk to, so he could look at the situation from multiple perspectives.

“I mean…what do you really know about her?” You ask tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers to keep yourself occupied.

Yeonjun looked at you, biting his lip as he got lost in thought again.  

“My dad did mention something in the letter about her, and her quote ‘cunning family’ being after Choi Enterprises, but I don’t know it just…seems like a stretch. My mom knows I don’t have interest in the company.”  

You halt your movements, laying back down on his chest as you make yourself comfortable.

He looked down at you lovingly, giving you a quick kiss on your lips when you looked up at him again.

“Maybe ask him about it. I can come with you if you want. First thing in the morning.”  

Yeonjun’s brows raised in surprise. “You’d do that?” he asks a little baffled at the fact that you’d voluntarily throw yourself in a lion’s den for him. This wasn’t just like visiting a relative in the hospital, there was so much more at stake that even Yeonjun himself couldn’t fathom right now.

You nod, not having to think twice about it. “Anything for you.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each others’ warmth with your arms and legs tangled together. It was the best sleep both of you had gotten in the past couple of days. Though it was a short night, you were well-rested.

At around 8 AM you texted Soobin that Yeonjun and yourself went out to talk to each other in private when in reality you were going to visit the hospital to see Yeonjun’s dad. You were sure everyone was still in deep sleep and that you’d be back before they’d notice, but it felt better to at least let someone know that you left the house together.

The car ride was silent, nerves eating at the both of you as you held hands while he drove. He was nervously biting the inside of his cheek like he always does, and never let go of your hand the whole way.

As you walk through the endless halls of the hospital and pass security to the VIP section; you started to get more intimidated by the level of security present. They let Yeonjun through without a word and you trailed behind him with big eyes as you held onto his hand tightly.

He sighed, turning around to look at you as he stops in front of a massive double door. “Last time I saw him I stormed out in anger. Even when he’s not responsive he makes my blood boil and I honestly don’t want you to see me like that if it happens again.” He confesses as he looks at you seriously.  

You sigh, squeezing his hand as reassurance. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving your side.”  

Yeonjun nodded, taking a deep breath before he prepared himself as he opened the door to his fathers’ VIP area, but the sight he was welcomed with, was the last one he expected.

You noticed how he froze, and you frowned, standing on your toes to peek over his shoulder but your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw and heard what was going on.

Doctors and nurses were frantically trying to resuscitate Yeonjun’s father.  

“CLEAR!”  

The loud and continuous beeping of the heart monitor, followed by the charging sounds of the defibrillator was all the confirmation you needed to know that he was flatlining.

Panic was evident, and you knew that despite all the efforts of the doctors, chances were little to nothing that they’d be able to bring him back, given the state he was already in.

Your gasp was noticed by a few nurses and doctors which made one of them groan in disapproval.  

“How did they get in here!? No one is allowed inside.” The doctor huffs before he charged the defibrillator again.

“CLEAR!”

Yeonjun watched his father’s body contort as the joules of electricity were charged through his chest, but it was to no avail.  

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” One of the nurses says as she blocks the view.

Yeonjun pupils darted from his father to the doctors. He was in pure shock and unable to comprehend was going on before you lightly tugged at his hand. 

“Yeonjun,” you say in almost a whisper, trying to snap him out of it as you squeeze his hand.

“I-I’m his son,” Yeonjun says in an attempt to stick around. The same nurse from the day before gave him an apologetic look as she slowly pushed him out the door, while another doctor closed the curtain.

“I’m really sorry Yeonjun, but it’s protocol. You have to wait outside.”  

She closed the door behind her and left the two of you completely paralyzed in the halls of the VIP ward.  

Yeonjun turned around, leaning his back to the wall as his legs became weak. He slowly crouched down, and the sight broke your heart into a million pieces.

He wasn’t crying, he didn’t even look sad. He was just frozen. 

He looked into nothingness as he listened to what was going on inside of the room.

You quickly crouch down with him, not knowing what to do other than hold his hand and caressing his face with your free hand.

He still stared at the wall across from him as you pulled him close, making him rest his face on your shoulder as you whispered sweet nothings to him while he had to listen to what was going on in the other room.

The continuous beeping noise of the heart monitor followed by the sounds of the defibrillator sent chills down your spine as you held him to your best ability.

He didn’t respond to you or react to anything else, and when the noises halted after a minute or so, you knew they called it. 

He closed his eyes, suddenly tightening his arms around you as realization struck him.

“Time of death, 8.43 AM.”

You were seated in the family room of the hospital, handing Yeonjun a plastic cup filled with water.

He snapped out his thoughts and accepted the cup, taking a sip from it while avoiding eye contact with you.

He hadn’t quite looked at you yet. He was continuously staring into the void and it was starting to become scary. You wished he’d just say something, but he wasn’t able to, so you gave him time.

You promised you wouldn’t leave his side, and you were keeping that promise by handling the communication with the nurse, so he didn’t have to. You had called Soobin to tell him what was going on and you were sure they’d all be here in no time.  

You sat down across from him, trying to give him some space to gather his thoughts but it was like he wasn’t even in the room with you.

You sigh, taking a sip of your own cup of water and just as you were about to speak, his mother walked in followed by your friends.

She stepped aside as the boys enveloped Yeonjun in a tight hug, while Mia stood beside you, squeezing your shoulder lightly to show support.

Yeonjun sighed into the hug, loosening up a little and his frozen state seemed to vanish.  

Again, he wasn’t getting emotional, but he closed his eyes, letting his friends hold him in silence for a while.

The sight made your eyes water a little, but you choked back your tears, not wanting to be the one to start crying when no one else was.

His mother turned her attention to you, and you looked back at her while Mia was protectively standing next to you, still with her hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you for handling the communication with the staff. That must not have been easy, and I apologize for the fact that you had to do that. That should have been me. I’m sorry.”

You were taken aback by her apology and quickly shake your head in response. “No, no, please. Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.”

She gave you a simple nod and averted her attention to Yeonjun. He got up from the chair and walked over to his mother, opening up his arms for her.

She hesitated but went for the hug anyway, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent, letting him hold her for a bit. The physical affection making her tear up.

He rubbed her back, patting her hair.

“It’s ok mom, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Everything happened so incredibly fast that you weren’t even able to process what the hell was going on around you. The Choi family had people for people who worked for those people, which meant that the funeral was basically held within the next day.

Lita made sure that the boys, Mia, and yourself had something appropriate to wear for the ceremony and you were in Yeonjun’s room, dressed and ready just half an hour before the service would start.  

You were seated on his bed, watching him fix his tie in the mirror.

He had been super quiet and detached, and you wanted to give him space, but he was adamant about the fact that he wanted you around. He hadn’t shed a single tear and didn’t even really talk about what happened. It was mostly you doing the talking for him.

Having to explain what you saw was rough, and you were worried it’d trigger something inside Yeonjun, but it didn’t. He kept himself composed and strong, and you were curious how long he could keep that façade alive.

You snap back from your thoughts and watch him struggle with tying his tie. A small smile crept upon your lips and you get up from the bed, walking towards him to do it for him.

He looked at you lovingly, holding on to your waist as he watched you tie the knot expertly just like your father taught you.

“What can’t you do?” he asks amused, looking down at you.

You look up at him through your lashes and scoff. “Get you to open up apparently,” you say as you finish up, giving him a soft pat on his chest to let him know you’re all done.

He blinked a couple of times, biting his lip.

“I love you.”  

Your eyes snap up to his in shock, making sure you didn’t just imagine that.  

“W-what?”  

“I love you,” he repeats, giving you a small smile as he fixes a piece of your hair.

“Y-Yeonjun I-” you stutter.

His confession was loud and clear, though it took you some time to process. You had no idea where it was coming from, but as you looked him in the eye; all he showed was confidence and sincerity.

“I think I knew the night of our fight, I wanted you as far away from me as possible to protect you from myself, and my uncle out of all people made me realize that that’s something you do out of love.” He explains making sense of his words.

“I don’t know what love feels like y/n, but when I look at you…the way you handled this whole thing. Sticking by me and supporting me emotionally even though I see you struggle with your own emotions it’s just…” He sighs, organizing his thought before he spoke again.

“I couldn’t put into words, how much I care for you and appreciate you, and that’s when it clicked that there’s a whole ass expression for that feeling,” he says, letting his hands travel to your waist again.

“I love you y/n. So, fucking much that it hurts,” he admits, closing his eyes as he leans his forehead to yours.

You sigh contently, letting your hand travel up to his cheek, softly caressing it before you peck his lips softly.  

“I love you too.”

Yeonjun didn’t expect you to say it back to him, but you meant every word you said. His eyes snapped open and a huge boyish grin crept upon his face, his eyes glistening with pleasure as he pulled you towards him roughly, which made you yelp in response.  

“You do?” He asks beaming at you.

“Yes Yeonjun, now wipe that grin off your face. We have a funeral to attend,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes.  

He snorted, letting go of you reluctantly, stealing a chaste kiss from you before he opened the door to his bedroom.

“After you, my love.”  

You were warned beforehand that the funeral would be more like a business event rather than a private family gathering. The ceremony took place in their back yard, so luckily you didn’t have to worry about running late.

The number of people you were introduced to, given the fact that Yeonjun paraded you around like an accessory was overwhelming. The only people that really stuck out to you were his uncle, Namjoon, and his wife Hye-Jin.

They were so happy to meet you that it felt like they already knew you personally.

Yeonjun basically had his game face on the whole night, it was a side to him that you hadn’t seen before and you realized that you missed the carefree, peer pong playing college boy from before.

As Yeonjun was talking to some stockholders, you decided to find your friends again.

“So…you and Yeonjun hyung are officially a thing now?” Taehyun asks as you join their table, completely exhausted from fake smiling to all the people you just met.

“Don’t think I don’t notice how he sneaks into your room every night y/n. Your room is literally right across from mine.” Beomgyu says as he gives you a bitter smile.

You roll your eyes at him as you smack his arm, earning a small yelp from him.

Soobin looked at you expectantly waiting for you to answer Taehyun’s question and you just nodded.

“We worked things through, I’ll tell you the details later but…we haven’t had the boyfriend, girlfriend talk yet.”

“Well, the timing is a little…” Mia starts.

“Yeah, exactly.”  

Hueningkai sighs, throwing his head back in annoyance. “What is going on, first Soobin hyung and Mia, then Beomgyu hyung and Ryujin and now Yeonjun hyung and you? Is there something in the air that I don’t know about?”

The group started snickering softly, trying not to be rude given the fact that you were at a funeral.  

“Maybe I should just start dating Taehyun.” He says jokingly nudging his friend.

“Actually, I’m kind of talking to someone too,” he says waving off the confused looks of everyone as he smiled at all of you.

“If it’s Yeonjun’s mom, I swear to god.” Beomgyu says.

“Ew, no. What the fuck.”  

“Can all of you please behave? Please. Just one night.” Soobin begs as he rubs his forehead, which made Mia chuckle, patting his back in comfort.

Soon after the music stopped. A spokesperson of the family took the stage, telling everyone to take a seat. Yeonjun’s eyes found yours, and he basically told you in sign language that he couldn’t join you guys, as it is expected that he sits at the front with his mother.

The ceremony was simple and short. There were multiple speakers and every once in a while, you checked Yeonjun’s facial expression to see how he was holding up.  

You noticed how the same hollowness returned if he didn’t have to act like the perfect son to all the attendees, and it worried you.  

After his mother took the stage, shedding a few rehearsed tears, they lowered the casket, and the ceremony was basically over with. Watching his mother put on such an academy award-winning performance, made you realize that apart from you, your friends and the immediate family, no one knew what kind of person Choi Daniel really was.

It made you sick to your stomach that he was being honoured as if he was some type of hero.

A few hours pass before the last guests leave the house. Your group was seated together in the formal living room, and when Yeonjun enters with an exhausted look on his face, all of you fall quiet as you stare at him.

He let himself fall onto the lounge chair and loosened his tie, slouching down in his seat as he threw his head back.

“Are you okay?” Mia asks, being the first to speak up.

“I’m just drained I guess,” Yeonjun says rubbing his temples.

“Well, we are leaving tomorrow, so we can go back to our normal lives asap. I feel like I’ve walked into some K-drama.” Taehyun retorts as he sits down as well.

Yeonjun lifts his head, biting his lip as he looks at the group of people he cares about the most. “Right, about that…”

His eyes find yours and you can already see that he’s sorry about something.

You cock your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, and then he sighs.

“I’m not coming back with you guys,” he says apologetically. “At least…not for a while. I can’t just leave my mom in the midst of all of this. There's so much more that needs to be taken care of…”

Your heart sank a little, but it was understandable for him to stick around longer. 

Mia narrowed her eyes at Yeonjuns words, and the guys just hummed understandingly.

“How long will you be gone for then?” Hueningkai asks.

“Till the end of Summer I think,” Yeonjun replies, his eyes finding yours.

You understood the circumstances, but you were shocked, to say the least. Even though you’ve been together non-stop since the incident, he hadn’t talked to you about it.

He gave you a sad look when you avoided his gaze, which Mia noticed as she looked at you two.

Yeonjun decided he had enough of the gloomy atmosphere and decided to crack open his fathers’ expensive collection of aged wines and scotches.  

Since they were at home, he let the minors indulge a little too. Everyone was letting loose a little. The old playful group dynamic returned slowly but you were still lost in thought about Yeonjun’s decision to stay behind.

He noticed how you sat far away from him and sighed. He walked towards you. Asking you to come with him to the kitchen and you agreed. Feeling that it was best to talk about this before you make matters worse by overthinking.

You took a seat at the breakfast bar, waiting for him to start talking, but he just looked at you with concern.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says.

“I was just…speaking to so many people today and I realized I can’t just pretend that this part of my life doesn’t exist anymore. Especially now that he’s gone.”

“Yeonjun, I’m not mad. I just…don't get why you would tell me you love me when you knew that you weren’t going to come back with us," you say as you play with your fingers

His eyes widened and he got closer to you. Taking a hold of your hands after he made you look up at him by tugging at your chin.

“Hey, It’s just a few weeks. Nothing will change the way I feel about you; I promise. I just need time to unravel all of these family secrets. I never got to ask him why he didn’t trust my mother and after today I just…I have to figure it out.” 

You nod, understanding completely. Somehow you wanted him to ask you to stay here with him for the rest of summer, but the fact that he didn’t was all that you needed to know.

“Don’t be sad okay, we’ll stay in contact,” he says as he caresses your cheek. 

You nod and lean into his touch which made him smile. He inched his face closer to kiss you softly.  

You didn’t know what, but something was off about him. He looked at you with affection but at the same time, his eyes were hollow, almost soulless.  

A small knock on the wall snaps both of you back to reality, your heads snap back to see Mia in the doorway looking at you both seriously.  

“Y/n, Soobin needs your help with something.” She says as she gives you a small smile.

You frown, and so does Yeonjun, but you decide to go see for yourself, not thinking much of it.

“Alright then?” you say as you get up from the barstool, walking towards the formal living room.

Mia’s gaze followed you out the door, and before Yeonjun could walk back to the living room with you. She stops him.

“You’re not coming back are you?” She asks, looking him in the eye sternly.

Well, fuck.

Yeonjun sighs. He should have known. Mia sees through anyone’s bullshit; and given how protective she is of y/n. He knew he had to tell her the truth before she beat it out of him.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admits, avoiding eye contact with her.

Mia’s shoulder fell, her eyes getting sad. It was just an assumption she had, but she didn’t expect him to tell her the truth this easily.

“Yeonjun…you can’t do that to her.”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that?” he says raising his voice a little. He glanced through the hall at the group, making sure you didn’t hear him before his gaze returned to Mia.

She stared back at him in disbelief, waiting for him to explain himself.

“I just…I need time. I can’t be what she deserves the way I am now. It could take weeks, months, maybe even years but you have to believe me that I’m doing it for her,” he says trying to make Mia understand.

“If there was another way, I’d do it, but after today my world turned dangerous. There are too many people after the company. Money makes people do crazy things and I don’t want her anywhere near it. Y/n has to be protected at all costs. I have to handle this on my own.”  

Mia exhaled loudly, trying to gather her thoughts as her hand lands on her forehead.

“I love her more than anyone Mia. I do. You have to believe that I’m doing this in her best interest.”

Mia just shakes her head, swallowing harshly before she makes eye contact again.  

“What about the guys.”

“They have each other, and y/n has you. You have to promise me you’ll be there for her.”

“Yeonjun...I-”

“Promise me.”

Mia sighs, defeated in a game she never even played. She closes her eyes, nodding at his request.

"Ok, I promise.”  

Chapter 10

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 58 - Golden Age

Title: Irreverent Pt. 58 - Golden Age

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~5K

Irreverent Series Masterlist

You stare at the closed door to McKinney's office, shifting once again in the seat. You'd been there for what felt like hours, though reasonably speaking it was closer to thirty minutes. Beside you, Aaron sat stoically calm, his shoulders pressed to the chair, back straight. He eyes you when you shift and reaches out, placing a hard on yours that was sat against the armrest. You meet his eyes for a second, knowing he was simply trying to calm the anxiety in your bones. It was no use – your gaze wanders back to the heavy closed oak door once more.

You'd arrived at McKinney's office early that morning, as directed to in the email sent by Gladys. Both Rossi and Aaron had received similar instructions and when you'd arrived, Gladys had waved Rossi into the room, stating that the Director would like to speak to him on his own first, and asked you and Aaron to take a seat.

You knew that McKinney and Rossi went way back. They'd done training together and worked in organized crime for a couple years before going their separate ways. You can only imagine that McKinney wanted Rossi's take on Pierce's take down and to perhaps run his ruling for you by someone whom he trusted and who would be able to comment on you personally. That was your hope, at the very least.

You knew Aaron thought the same as you, because he hadn't seemed put out by being told to wait. He too recognized that McKinney not delivering judgment against you in one fell swoop could only be a good thing. It meant he was thinking it over, getting other opinions. He'd had time to evaluate through the course of events and the idea was that he would see greater value in keeping you – see that everything you'd done had been strategic and purposeful.

Gladys had directed you both towards the coffee in the little waiting area outside the office, which you'd both politely declined. Now she was clattering away against the keyboard and fielding pretty much nonstop phone calls.

You turn your stare from the door, back to Aaron, whose eyes are fixed on you. He prompts you with a slight raise of his eyebrows, his hand still blanketing yours, thumb running back and forth soothingly.

"We should take another vacation," you whisper conspiratorially, speaking as though the idea of you two going on vacation together might scandalize someone listening in.

He bites back a smile but you can see the amusement dance across his eyes. He knows you're trying to distract yourself. Your shoulders are still taut and you've barely glanced away from McKinney's door since the two of you sat down. "Where'd you have in mind?" he asks, leaning down towards you and matching your covert tone. If a distraction was what you needed, then he'd play along.

"Bora Bora is nice this time of year. Hawaii maybe. Somewhere tropical with a childcare center," you joke, easily planting images of you and him on a beach by yourselves into Aaron's head.

"Better yet, an adults only resort," he smirks back, sitting straight once more, his eyes facing straight.

You're the one who has to bite back the smile now. He'd responded with barely a glance at you. Onlookers might've thought he'd commented on the weather. Only you could guess at the thoughts running through his mind right then – waves and sand, you in skimpy bathing suits, the two of you alone without having to worry about waking Jack up...

God it had been forever.

You can feel yourself become heated and have to stop that train of thought short, reminding yourself that you're still seated outside the Director's office, awaiting what is at best a disciplinary hearing and at worst a dismissal notice.

"We'll go," he promises, squeezing your hand gently.

You nod, leaning against his shoulder ever so slightly before straightening back up once more. Aaron had been quiet that morning, which you're chalking up to the solemnity of the occasion. The previous night had been quite a lot and you know that you're both still feeling a bit raw from it all. Better – in many ways. Stronger too. However that didn't mean that you expect everything to be washed away overnight. You imagine there's quite a few more conversations like that in your future. The work needed to help you both feel whole once more.

Already, you feel his eyes on you a lot more than ever before. Trained on you when you leave a room. Searching yours when you enter. Eyes trailing over the length of you. Ensuring that you're alright. Making sure that you're safe. Confirming that you're there.

*------------*

The door to McKinney's office opens and you both watch as Rossi exits. He turns to the both of you, obviously in attempt to speak, but before he can, he's directed by Gladys towards the door taking him outside of McKinney's lobby. Following her instructions, he walks out, nodding at both you and Aaron, his face betraying nothing.

"Agent Hotchner, the Director will see you now."

At Glady's instruction, Aaron stands rebuttoning the bottom button of his jacket, and with a quick, reassuring smile towards you, strides through the doors to McKinney's office, closing the door behind him.

"Agent Hotchner," Director McKinney stands to greet him, motioning towards the chair in front of his desk.

"Director."

Aaron takes a seat, sitting up incredibly straight, shoulders rigidly tense. He knows that McKinney asking to speak to him before he speaks to you has certain implications. Implications which, he fears, don't bode well if McKinney's goal is to prod at you choosing to reach out to him and the team rather than your direct supervisor on the project. If you would go around him once, chances are, you'd do it again.

Try as he might, Aaron hasn't been able to determine what exactly McKinney aims to get from speaking with him first. He hadn't been your superior on the assignment. Your personal relationship with him effectively negated anything Aaron could say in your favor.

"Aaron, I will cut straight to the chase." McKinney speaks authoritatively and plainly, his eyes focused on Aaron, betraying nothing of what he's thinking. Even to an experienced profiler such as himself. "Agent L/N broke numerous rules regarding the chain of command, defied security clearance protocols, and acted alone – entirely against Bureau training and procedure."

Aaron stays silent. McKinney hadn't said anything that wasn't true and they both knew it.

"However," McKinney continues, "I must concede that she drew results and ultimately is the reason why the threat to the Atlantis program was eliminated."

Aaron offers only a short nod in response, choosing to hold everything else close to his chest until required otherwise.

McKinney shuffles, placing his hands on the table and leaning in closer. "If this was one of your agents – and you did not share the personal relationship that you do in this situation – what would you do in my position?"

There it was.

Aaron would like to think that Director McKinney was being sincere in asking him. That asking him wasn't some sort of trick question, aimed towards discrediting you.

With a quiet shift, Aaron meets McKinney's gaze head on, and begins to speak slowly. "Director, I've made the mistake before of not trusting one of my agents. I vowed to never make that mistake again. Agent L/N, she's proven – time and again – that she makes the right decisions, no matter the complicated subject matter or the potential personal nature of the circumstances."

Aaron stops there. Less was more. He wanted to make sure whatever he said to McKinney would be impactful. Display the full breadth of his faith in you.

McKinney has a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplates Aaron's words.

In the silence that follows, Aaron's eye is drawn to the Director's American flag pin on the left jacket collar. He's never seen without it. While Directors in the past have worn the pin for formal events – public speeches, Congressional hearings, White House balls – McKinney is always seen with his. Aaron recalls in the early days, when McKinney had first taken the reins, the pin used to be different. It used to be a pin of the Bureau seal. Sometime after the events of September 11th, it had changed. Replaced by the American flag pin, proudly displayed no matter where he went.

Aaron sees McKinney's shoulders move up and then back down as the man releases a large breath, nodding as he does, seemingly having reached some sort of conclusion. Aaron is at a loss to determine which conclusion that might be.

He doesn't share his thoughts with Aaron.

"I've forwarded the video that Agent Garcia shared, on to the Director of Interpol," McKinney informs him. "They will be conducting an internal investigation. Agent Easter has already been stripped of all privileges and is currently on a suspension until further determinations regarding his negligence on the Atlantis case along with the results of the internal review can be made."

Aaron's glad to hear that Easter wouldn't be getting away entirely scot free. He has a strong feeling that, had things not happened exactly the way that they did, you wouldn't have reported Easter for what he did to you. Aaron – fortunately or unfortunately – knows you well enough to realize that there was a small part of you that considered what Easter had done, to be some sort of favor to you. Making you understand what was at stake. Preparing you for the worst. He doesn't need to hear you admit to it, in order to know that. Anything he said to the contrary would only result in you doubling down and insisting, that without him threatening Jack and Aaron, you might not have realized exactly how grave of a danger your role could pose to them.

You could be quite maddening in what you chose to direct your fury at. Easter lying to you was unforgiveable. Him torturing you – apparently par for the course.

"Thank you." Aaron nods his gratitude to McKinney, knowing that he is also being effectively dismissed as the Director moves to stand.

Standing as well, Aaron meets McKinney's outstretched hand across the table, shaking it quickly, before turning away and exiting the room.

*------------*

The door closes behind you with a heavy thud.

Aaron had nodded you in towards McKinney's office, electing to ignore Gladys's gesture to exit via the lobby and taking your recently vacated seat. He wasn't about to leave. He'd be there, waiting for you.

"Good morning Director." You offer a small smile and nod your greeting to McKinney, taking the seat in front of his desk.

Your shoulders are pulled back straight, you're meeting his unreadable gaze head on. Aaron hadn't been able to provide any insight into McKinney's thoughts before you were ushered in, so there you sat, awaiting the gauntlet.

You're fairly convinced McKinney will fire you. Aaron disagrees but you've had the unshakeable apprehension in your bones, that's grown into a nebula of dread. No matter your brave words to Aaron about saying no to Director Richards' offer and taking a break if you were indeed terminated, the actual thought of being dismissed is terrifying. What on earth would you even do? There were only so many bake sales to host and field trips to chaperone before you went postal.

"How are you doing?" he asks, leaning back in his chair and appraising you.

You feel McKinney's eyes run over you in an inspecting manner, lingering on your face. You know him well enough to recognize this as genuine concern on his behalf. Garcia had mentioned that she'd sent him the video they'd all seen of what Clyde had done to you. You're aware that McKinney would shoulder some of the blame for that on himself.

"Better," you answer cautiously, figuring that was close enough to the truth without being a mere perfunctory response.

He eyes you once more, letting the quiet wash over you both, forcing you to linger in that awkward tension of being examined by him. The seconds go by, marked by the loud click of the seconds hand on the clock mounted to the wall.

Deciding that he'd made you suffer long enough, McKinney leans in again, fingers interlaced on top of the desk carefully, deep set eyes focused on you alone. "So, you have a job offer from Artie?"

Who the hell was Artie?!

At the confused look on your face, he clarifies, "Director Richards – Arthur and I go back. Did you know that?"

You can see the suppressed smirk hidden beneath a veneer of professionalism as McKinney leans back in the chair once more, having left you to silently ponder at the incredulity of anyone referring to Director Richards as Artie and the sheer surprise at McKinney knowing about the job offer. When you'd considered them speaking, you hadn't thought that Richards would mention that. Though, it made sense. Tell your current boss that you have another offer. Make you look bad to McKinney, as though you'd been soliciting an offer from the CIA. Ensure that you'd want to leave for the Agency instead, by souring your relationship with McKinney.

"You call Director Richards…Artie?" It was the only thing you could think of to say, at a loss for much else.

"You think you're the only one he takes to fancy French restaurants?" This time, McKinney's words are accompanied by a real smile, one that you can't help but return.

*------------*

Aaron starts when the door to McKinney's office reopens and you exit. He'd had his gaze locked on the door ever since you disappeared behind it, anxiously awaiting the final decision. Despite his relatively good meeting with the Director, he didn't know what to expect as the outcome.

Your eyes lock with his, your expression entirely unreadable. Silently, you motion towards the exit with your eyes, the message clear. Whatever happened, you two wouldn't be discussing it there.

Aaron quickly stands, nodding towards McKinney's assistant when she looks up at the movement. He's quick to follow you as you make your way down the hallway, deftly moving past anyone in the hallways. He's loathe to ask what happened. The journey from McKinney's office has his heart beating fast, as he reckons with what news could have led to you moving through the hallways at such a pace, him struggling to keep up as you maneuver through a break room full of people, finally arriving at an unused office, into which you slip with him close behind.

You wait for him to enter, before shutting the door while he turns to look towards you. You've turned as well, back pressed against the door when Aaron finally has the chance to assess you properly.

Your eyes dart around the room, not meeting his. Your lips are pressed together.

Aaron feels the pit in his stomach tighten into a lead ball, weighing him down. It would be alright, he reminds himself. He had known you being let go was a possibility. The two of you have planned for this.

He releases a deep breath before he speaks. "What did McKinney say?"

Your tongue peaks out, running over your lips as you tilt your head to meet his eyes finally. Apprehension exuding from you as you nervously fidget with your hands. He sees you force yourself to swallow before you reply.

"He told me that I can hand in my official resignation from the BAU to you."

Aaron closes his eyes. He had thought, after his conversation with McKinney, that the Director had no intention of letting you go. He'd never been quite so off on reading someone.

Opening his eyes, he looks deep into yours. "Alright," he nods, attempting to reassure you as well as himself. "We knew this could happen." Already a thousand different scenarios are playing in his head – telling the team, next steps for you, what you're going to want to do after you grow tired of the break, maybe he needs to take a step back as well…

"We can appeal it, sweetheart," he reminds you. The two of you had discussed that as a possible option as well. He walks towards you, wanting nothing more than to hold you close to him again. "We can appeal – Rossi, Morgan, hell even Strauss would put in a good word for you. McKinney's word isn't final, and – "

Aaron breaks off his mile a minute speech, distracted at the sight of a smile twitching at your lips. Why were you smiling?

"He told me to hand in my letter of resignation to the BAU," you repeat yourself as he falters, trying to understand what you're saying. He asked you to give him the letter of resignation from the BAU…

"I'm getting my own team, Aaron," you whisper, as if you could scarcely believe it yourself.

You were getting your own team. You were getting…your own team.

"You're getting – " His mouth can't seem to quite get the words out as he watches your face split into a grin that his is slow to mirror.

Of all the possibilities that you'd considered, this had hardly been one of them.

"I'm getting my own team," you repeat, eyes focused fully on him. You have the largest smile he's ever seen on your face.  He can  feel that pit replaced by this bouncy feeling in his chest as he looks at your face –the bubble of the moment broken by the laughter and squeal that follows as he sweeps you into his arms.

This was good.

You were happy.

*------------*

"I think this is the last box," Aaron says, striding into your office, eyeing you cautiously as you're balanced atop your chair, trying to hang up some of the frames with your certificates on the wall.

You mutter a quick thank you, concentrating on hammering the nail in without hurting yourself by falling off of the wheeled chair. Aaron moves to start putting the books he'd brought up into the bookshelves, hovering close to you in case you did end up slipping.

It had been a week since McKinney had offered you your own team as a counter to Richards' offer from the CIA. Turns out, as long as you get results, the government tends to look the other way when you break any number of clearance regulations. Your conversation with McKinney in his office that day had been entirely centered around what he could do to ensure that you stay with the Bureau.

Intelligence and Threat Assessment, or the ITA, was a group within the Bureau that examined any number of domestic and international threats, analyzed changing political spheres, and partnered with the Justice Department, Congress, and external organizations to spearhead the American democratic manifesto. In short, that was the group that determined who was and wasn't an enemy.

McKinney had offered you your own team within that umbrella to tackle special cases that rose to the level of further assessment by or direct involvement of the Bureau. The sight of your name, followed by the words Unit Chief would never get old.  

You'd had a busy week, settling back into regular life, catching up with everyone, and ensuring that you were spending time with Jack and Aaron once more. In that time, you'd also put out the word that you were building a new team and connected with the Bureau Human Resources department. Interviews were being set up. Thankfully you had one team member picked out – from your office, you can see the bullpen where your team will sit, Anderson's desk the only one occupied so far.

"So Strauss is retiring," Aaron comments idly, opening yet another box of items for you to decorate your office with.

You hum, encouraging him to continue, as you carefully get off the chair and grab one of the boxes, setting it on your desk. You'd long shed your blazer and the heels had come off ten minutes ago when Aaron had left to grab the last of the boxes. It was late anyways and you two were the last ones left, as you'd insisted on wanting to be all moved in so you could get a head start the following Monday. As soon as the two of you were done moving you into your new office, you couldn't wait to get home and sink into the tub.

"Rossi thinks it'll happen by the end of the month," he continues, handing you the box cutter you'd been searching for.

"Well, your only real competition could be external," you remark, handing him back the box cutter. You know that Aaron wouldn't have commented on Strauss's retirement if he wasn't considering the Section Chief position. With your new role keeping you closer to home a majority of the time, it would make your home life a lot more stable.

He makes a disbelieving sort of noise at your comment that has you smiling and rolling your eyes.

"Oh hush," you chide him, continuing to move things off of the box and into the shelf. "Now, if we have to consider the hiring committee for the position, then it'll be Wilson and Shaw – both of whom already like you – "

Aaron smiles as you start to lay out all the details for a role he's only mentioned in passing, but he knows that you will take entirely seriously. It's what you did. You planned and you executed and you achieved at a rate that was entirely remarkable.

" – Adams is a total pushover, and Rossi can probably help you out there –"

He smiles, nodding along to your strategizing, knowing you'd have Dave over for dinner soon enough and run Aaron's odds for getting the position by him and ensure that Dave would throw his weight around as needed.

"Davidson is the only one on the committee that'll pose any real issue, I suppose. I'm guessing you two haven't made nice yet after the Atlanta case?" You quirk a brow in his direction, asking a question that you already know the answer to. Really, it's your way of making sure he feels like he's part of the process, despite you being full systems ahead from the get go.

Aaron's forehead crinkles as he shakes his head.

"Yeah, I figured. Well, it's nothing to worry about. I heard from Lisa from research that he has a new girlfriend –  one that drives his ex-wife entirely insane. Garcia can do some additional digging and get some more dirt."

He makes a face at you, which you elect to ignore, continuing on with your plan for targeted subterfuge.

"We can have them both over for dinner. I just got that new shipment from the Napa winery and we can ask Eric to cook for us again. He can make that dessert, and based on what Garcia manages to find, Davidson shouldn't be terribly difficult to persuade. After all, how could anyone not love you." You throw him a coquettish smile and wink, your arms laden with books that you'd lifted out of the box.

Aaron can feel himself grow warm – you tend to have that effect on him with only the smallest of gestures. The ever faithful butterflies, his constant companions in the early days of the two of you entering into this relationship, have infiltrated his stomach with a vengeance.

"Once you're Section Chief, we can figure out Department Chief next. Carlton won't be around forever," you forge ahead, intent now on your plan to launch his career to the next phase and the next after that. Pretty soon you'd be planning world domination with him by your side. You'd manage to convince him that it was alright because he'd be the one in charge and he makes good decisions so why wouldn't the entire world simply bow to his will. No matter how ridiculous the notion or how bizarre the proposition, your faith in him was unyielding.

Aaron reaches into his pocket, feeling the sharp edges of the box there. It's been on hand this entire week since your return, just waiting for him to find the right time. His heartrate picks up, his hand grasping the box tight.  

Your back is still turned to him as you continue to arrange the books on your shelf in order of subject and size, going up on the tip of your toes to reach the top shelf as your voice carries on. Something regarding convincing Carlton that he would be well suited for a jump to the West Coast offices, leaving the pathway wide open for Aaron's surge to the top.

"Do you remember," he interrupts, watching you carefully, "a while back, you said something to me. Something along the lines of, Director Hotchner has a nice ring to it?" He does his best to keep his voice casual, regulate his breath as he speaks.

You pause, the memory of that afternoon flitting into your mind. So early in your relationship, back when you'd thought that maybe, that would be something appealing to a man like Aaron – ambitious and righteous, wanting to protect and serve at the highest of levels. That had been before  – before you'd known, that for him, the BAU was the chance to put away monsters. It was a personal mandate that he couldn't disconnect himself from. Contending with the bureaucracy and politics that came with truly running the entire Bureau was not something that he found at all appealing. Despite all of your planning and machinations, you knew already that the best you could hope for with him would be Section Chief. He'd never leave the team further than that, no matter the number of steak dinners you served up.

"Yeah, what about it?" you ask, a bemused smile playing at your lips, wondering why he'd ask you that. He'd shot it down then, and you knew for a fact that it wasn't something he was about to begin entertaining now, despite the Section Chief role being a shift away from the BAU directly.  

"I can't help but agree with you."

His voice was closer than it had been before, you can feel him right behind you. There's a prickling at the back of your neck, your brows furrowing in confusion as you attempt to decipher the meaning behind his cryptic words.

You turn, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

Bent down on one knee, with the most beautiful ring in his hand. The gold in his eyes warm and sparkling for you. A hopeful smile on his face as he watches yours.

You could scarcely believe it as you struggle to meet his eyes, trying to string together something that sounded vaguely intelligible, while your lungs struggled to pull in enough air to keep you standing.

Your mouth feels dry and you have to force yourself to take a deep breath, licking your lips as you do. You push away the first question that comes to your mind – Are you sure? Of course he was. There was no doubting it. No doubting him.

When your eyes finally do meet his, your breath hitches, overwhelmed by the surrounding quiet, only the sound of your breath and your heart and the wondrous, exuberant buzzing of the sparks surrounding you in anticipation of the inevitable.

"You really think I'm going to be Director one day?" Your question is accompanied by an incredulous sort of laugh, the kind that causes his heart to skip a beat at the mere sound.

"I really do, sweetheart." His words carried with them a promise – he was pledging himself to you and anything you set out to achieve.

You feel yourself bound towards a feeling you haven't felt much as of late. Elation – that euphoric ecstasy that courses through your veins and causes your chest to beat wildly. You can do nothing but smile big and nod hard, for once, words completely failing you.

Aaron needs no further encouragement besides the sparkling note of your laugh, the effervescent joy of your nod as you reach for him and he rises. He's quick to slip the ring on your finger before his mouth meets yours, hands winding around his neck and pulling him as close as possible.

Hearts beating jubilantly in sync at the feel of his lips against yours and his arms around you, yours around him, and that persistent and everlasting feeling of belonging to one another in every manner possible.

When the two of you finally break apart, breathless, matching grins on both your faces, you can't help but ask. "How long has Jack known?"

He smiles, his eyes twinkling. "Since Paris."

You let out a breathless, short laugh. You can scarcely believe he'd been able to keep it from you that long. Though, looking back, a number of instances with Jack made a lot more sense now. The faint memory a shopping trip with him, sometime after Paris, when Jack had been quite taken with the window display of a wedding store.

"We might have to do a reenactment for him," Aaron jokes, keeping you close to him. He weaves his fingers through yours, admiring how the ring sits perfectly on your hand, sparkling just right in the light.

You laugh, tightening your hand in his. "Let's go home then."

Everything else could wait.

[mongpht]

about… TO FAMILY

i apologise in advance! english is not my native language, i find it quite difficult to convey my thoughts correctly from my native japanese directly into english. please excuse me!

in fact, i don't even know how to start all this (so i'll probably move from topic to topic, for which i apologise right away). i'll be talking about self-harm and suicidal thoughts at the end, so if you don't like the topic, then don't read it!

MV greets us pretty well. we see the happy RIO family. and right away we notice that RIO is an exact copy of his father. and also everyone is happy about the addition to the family and everything should go well, but HoneyWorks decided to just kill us (i just don't know how else to describe what i'm about to tell you).

RIO is "leaving" his parental home (I'm sure it's because of FT4 and Idol's future career).

while RIO was away, his father died in a car accident (as you can tell from the fragments that pop up)

RIO'S mother is grieving as her loved one is gone forever.

AND NOW FOR MY PERSONAL OPINION (THEORY) YOU MAY NOT AGREE WITH IT!

we can understand from this footage that RIO'S mother hanged herself and the first person to witness her death was rio's sister.

!!!! the younger a child is, the more easily fears arise as a result of various circumstances, objects or events. unlike adults, children do not express their reactions through words, but through their behaviour.

and here i think that because of the fright (mother's death and RIO'S shock) and the circumstances in general (i mean father's death and mother's behaviour before her death) RIO'S sister has withdrawn and stopped talking (unfortunately i forget what the term is in psychology, but if anything it can be treated and she was talking before and not now it is not fatal).

It can be understood from several moments:

girl is not talking to rio and most likely (personally i think so) blames rio for her mother's death because he was not home and was with FT4 at the time

RIO, on the other hand, tries to talk to his sister, always being there for her and keeping him safe. in turn, she slowly (not immediately) starts to get used to her brother, to the fact that he is the only person she has left. and of course she slowly and surely starts to trust him and her resentment over his death goes away (if anything she does not directly blame him: just because she does not understand or know what to do/feel/say she shifts these responsibilities to the other).

in the next shot we see RIO having lunch with his sister. and here i want to say right away: RIO is so good! hell, we know idols and future idols' schedules are packed, but rio found the time and desire to learn to cook for his own sister and heck look at this lovely lunch (i'm sure rio cooks beautifully, just like a real mum).

i would also like to emphasise that we see the smiling sister and we can see that she is already used to and trusts her brother, that she is happy to be near him (and it is likely that her psychological trauma is slowly going away).

p.s. WHY DOESN'T TUMBLR WANT TO ATTACH MORE PHOTOS, (SORRY, I'LL USE TIME CODES FROM NOW ON)

[2:30 RIO BRAIDING HIS SISTER'S HAIR]

p.s. heck, yeah i'm sure that apart from the cooking course RIO was asking for advice for his own sake or going to courses to know more (for himself) how to communicate, behave and raise a girl child. how to braid a child's hair and what mostly they like from clothes and toys and other nonsense. to make his sister feel at ease.

[2:52 RIO RIO HOLDS HIS SISTER IN HIS ARMS]

and here i already think that rio and his sister are doing well. she is starting to talk to him (maybe not immediately well, because she has been silent for quite a long time and maybe that is why she has some kind of speech impairment, but i am not responsible for that for sure).

[3:28 RIO'S SISTER]

and gosh darn it all... just look at that little starlet! she is so sweet and gentle! i'm sure all the boys (and company employees) treat her like a princess. please don't hurt her, or i'll hit you.

and now for a little bit of sadness (this is also just my opinion).

TRIGGER WARNING!!!

i think that after his father died and then his mother died, RIO also shut himself away to some extent. i mean, he didn't talk about his problems with anyone and wasn't used to talking about them with anyone.

it is also possible (THIS IS NOT SURE) that RIO may have had suicidal thoughts, because he is left alone and needs to raise his sister alone, and he is a school student with his whole life ahead of him. he may have hurt himself (by cutting his arms (not visible, but if my thoughts are true) or his legs. i dont know). or may have attempted suicide, like hanging himself like his mother, or drowning, or sometimes thoughts of jumping on rails, you know. (i just remember that these are my thoughts and i hope they are true, because rio is very good and he doesn't deserve all this crap). but first of all for his sister, and then for himself, he gave it all up and decided to be an example and support for his younger self.

i don't want to end on a sad note, but i really hope that rio is happy.

please, a little reminder, take care of yourself and your loved ones. don't be afraid to let your emotions out and don't be afraid to talk about your problems, even if you think they are not significant. and remember, you deserve only happiness and all the best, because you are the best.

[theodora3022]

Love You To Hell And Back(Yandere Claude)

Pairing: Yandere Claude Faustus x F!reader

Summary: Upon running away from home due to an unwanted arranged marriage, you took up a maid position in the Trancy household. You thought it would be simple, lay low for couple of months then the other family would cancel the engagement. Being a maid should be easy right? Just wash and clean the house and saying yes to their lords. You never thought you would end up in such a bizarre and dangerous household.

Notes: I am a Claude simp. If you do not know before, you do now. Do not get the wrong idea, Sebastien is handsome alright, but there is just something about those golden eyes makes me shiver in the best kind of way. (Also I love the French pronunciation of his name but whatever)

Word count:2k

Warning: Non-con touching, coercion, possessive behaviour, general Yandere content

SFW

As a lady on exile, you do not have many options. Your relatives were out of the question since they could inform your parents of your whereabouts, and so does all of your friends. Luckily, you figured out the perfect solution: disguises! And who is more unnoticeable then a maid? They blend naturally in the background of drawing rooms and parties, no one will bat an eye if there happen to be an extra one. Nobles do not care for servants, so a forged name and documents would get the job done. 

Answering advertisements seems to be a good way to start. Ah, there is one right here. The Trancy Estate? To your knowledge, there is only one young lord there, and you are not acquainted with the family. Seems the ideal choice: “Only for two months, as a replacement.” You know being a servant would be unpleasant, compare to your noble lady life now, but you had chosen between this instead marrying a man you despise.

Packing some essentials, you thrown on a simple cotton dress borrowed from your maids and sneaked out. You thought you had escaped from hell, not knowing you are better off staying. Because, you had quite literally, walked into a spider’s trap.

 A dark-skinned maid welcomed you, explaining how she has to leave the household for some personal business while giving you a small tour of the building. She seems nice enough, although you were curious why her right eye is covered by bandages. The manor is dead quiet and empty, giving you an illusion of how you can hear your own breathing.

“Miss Hannah, where are the other servants?” You shiver, tightening your clock just a bit. Although it is only autumn, the winds are chillier in this house, or so you felt.

“There is only five of us. Me, the triplets, and Sir Claude the butler. Our master can be...difficult, one could say.” Handing you a basket of maid attire, Hannah seem to be terrified of this master she speaks of.  

I wonder why he is so difficult. You thought as you thanked her and settled down in the little servant room you were given. Better put on these maid clothes soon, getting use to them as fast as possible. Blue and white does not look so bad together.

Kitchen duties are not so bad since all you need to do is chopping up vegetables and wash the dishes while the triplets took care of the cooking. Dusting is a nuisance, but with enough efforts it was taken care off. The triplets are an odd flock, as they never speak unless necessary. All your befriend attempts had failed miserably, you felt as if they look down on you somehow? Since you only do backstage work, you had yet to meet the master and his butler. Not that you mind, you want to kept your existence covert, after all!

You were trying to dust off the chandelier in the drawing room when you first met Claude. The stairs you use are a bit unstable, which causes you to have major anxieties about falling.

“Ahh!” You squeal as your staircase finally deciding to let you fall. Closing your eyes in horror, you were certain you are going to suffer at least bruises. But the expected pain never came. Instead, you felt a strong set of arms had caught your body mid-hair.

 Gazing up, what did you see?

Oh did that gorgeous face make this fall worth it. The tall man in black reminds you of those flawless Roman statues, of King David. You never thought humans can be this magnificent.(Well you are still right, as he is no human)

Gently placing you back on your feet, Claude started to examine you behind those clear glasses. You quickly smoothed the wrinkles on your skirt as you dip your head for greeting.

“Greetings, kind Sir. You must be Sir Claude. My pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am (y/n), the new maid.” Gods, he is handsome. You were not even sure words can describe how those golden eyes made you feel. Are you blushing? Ugh, get it together, self! He is only a butler here. It is beneath you to swoon over him. You put on a smile, then courtesies to the stoic man in the most elegant way possible.

The lack of callus on your fingers and your sophisticated manners informs him that you, are no ordinary maid. As a servant to his lord, Claude needs to make sure no sketchy individual can harm him. Some investigation would need to be done.

How interesting...Why would a high-born lady such as yourself ran away from your prestigious noble house, only to serve as a humble servant here? Just where did Hannah dig you up? Ah, that is no matter at present. Surely your cheerful spirts can light up the dull days of this mansion. The only thing Claude need to ensure is you do not expire as quickly as others. Alois can be such a spoiled brat; however no harm should befall to you as long as he can help it.

Your voice reminds the demon of little birds of forest mornings, chirping delightfully to a new day no matter how horrid the night before was. The way you thank him stuttering then trying to go back to your duties are just adorable, and amusing. It is clear as day:you are fascinated by Claude’s pretty face. Quite bold for a lady to do so. Claude had met a lot of people in his long life, but none of them intrigues him so as you do. He cannot grasp what exactly, but there must be something enchanting about you, that makes him want to pull you close and do unspeakable things to your good, pure body.  

Tender and cautious, that is what the knocks on his office door suggests. It is late, way past Alois’s bedtime. Who could have business with him this hour, apart from his demanding lord? “Come in.” Claude’s curiosity had spiked up.

It is you, still dressed and with a plate in your hands. What a pleasant surprise. And are those pastries?

“I...baked these for you, Sir. I want to thank you for your help earlier today.” Looking away, you quickly remind yourself how you should never indulge too much. However you had already spent two hours of your free time trying to bake something decent.

Did your parents taught you it is improper to visit a man’s quarters this late at night, alone? How rebellious of you, not that Claude minds anyway. You might appear to be demure and good at first sight, but under that nice façade is a bold maiden who does not care for modesty, how complex.

Chocolate chip biscuits, but with distorted shapes. “I am not very good at this, so I totally understand if you do not wish to eat them. I jus want to properly show my gratitude, that is all.” Nervously fidgeting your apron corner, you bit your lip when he raises one of them to his lips and took a small bite.

Edible, but has lots of room for improvement. Claude can practically taste your eagerness to please from the chocolate spheres. Seeing your gaze fixated on him, expecting his comments on your work, Claude let out a quiet laugh. Which made heat rush up to your cheeks. Is that a good or a bad response? It cannot be that terrible can it?

“Come.” He signals with a hand wave, and you hesitantly walked beside his chair. How cute, the butler and the little maid. It would be a shame to just give you some half-hearted praises and send you out, wouldn’t it? It is what a gentleman would do, of course. Claude on the other hand, has never been one. He could entertain that appearance for his lord’s sake, but in this little room with just you, there is no need for charades.

You were shocked when one gloved hand pulled you swiftly onto his lap, with the other locked around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Of course, you fantasized the idea of being the lover of such a fine specimen of mankind, but only the idea of it. Even though you are nothing more then a lowly maid now, you are still a lady of nobility with conducts of propriety.

Your shrinking pupils made Claude realize he might be pushing a bit too fast. But human lives are so fragile, so short compare to demon ones. If he does not seize this opportunity, who knows when is next one going to arrive? Whether it is your intention or not, Claude is now mesmerized with you. Now that he is holding you this close, breathing in your intoxicating sweet scent, the old demon had his first epiphany of a millennium: you are lovely, and he intends to keep you this way, one way or the other.

Squirming with protests, you tried to get out of his suffocating embrace. “Sir, this is not proper, please let go of me.” Yet you achieve no results, those iron grips still hold you firmly in place, those same arms that spared you an embarrassing fall this morning.

  “Little bird, finally thinking about propriety? You should know better then coming to my office this late unless you want something to happen.” Claude is close, too close, you can feel his breath fanning your ears gently. Gloved fingers trace down your jawline, making you tremble with fear. “Am I right, Lady (family name)?” You froze. What how did he-how do he know you are not a mere commoner? Had he already done a thorough investigation on you?

“Now, repeat after me, little bird.” His golden eyes shifted its color to pink, round pupils bending into a thin line. In normal circumstances, you would be terrified of how his features suddenly changed, but now you are too possessed by his intense gaze to think of anything else. Those eyes, you felt as if you could drown in those two magenta pools.

“I love Claude Faustus forever and I would do anything should he asks of me.”

“I-I love Claude Faustus f-forever...and I would do anything should....should he-e asks of me.” It is still your voice, although those words are defintely not your own. What is happening? Why do your tongue just moved on its own like man possessed?

“Perfect.” Running his bare fingers through your hair, Claude left a light kiss on your forehead, ignoring the horrid expression you are wearing. “You will behave, right little bird?”

“Of course, Sir Claude.” You did not just say that !There is no way. What has this evil man done to you? You never should have come here. Your terrible fiancée at least could not cast spells on you!

“I’ll take good care of you, my dearest little bird. After all, your fate is defined since the moment I lay my eyes on you. We are destined to be together.”

“Oh, do try to behave. It would be a shame if something should happen to your dear family. I would hate if you end up like your other human predecessors.” His lord, despite his young age, is a master at torture and inflicting suffering. There is a unfortunate reason why there is only a few servants in this manor, and the fact that they are durable demons too. Claude knows exactly where you would end up had he not intervened. Do not worry, he would never let you go. Demons mate for life, didn’t you know that? Why resist?

“I love you my dear, to the hell and back. We shall stay together until the end of time.”

[authoressskr]

Ruby Dragon Surprise (i)

Characters: f!Reader, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Clint Barton, Mercy (*previously Y/N in Bucky’s Dragon Soulmate Story*), mentions of Peggy Carter

Warnings: Language and no Beta   ::    Notes: This particular story will probably be three parts, cause Steve is emotionally constipated   ::   Word Count: 4849

I went with a dragon!soulmate!au, which I hadn’t seen before, but I did have a nifty dream about it that spawned this whole idea. He’s still an Avenger. Events are basically still the same (not exactly the same...people are alive who died in the mcu), just with dragons. ‘Cause who wouldn’t love a dragon companion?? This will be an ongoing series with different Avengers finding their soulmates with their dragons.

Howlite and Hearts (Bucky)

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

Since men emerged from caves, began using tools and reshaping their environment, they have been intrigued by the draconian terrors of all shapes and sizes that roamed the world. The first records of man and dragon working together are from Mesopotamia, pieces of shattered pottery pieced back together showing a dragon standing beside a woman. Assyrian artifacts depict water dragons helping farmers in the field. Egyptian murals show dragons protecting the Pharaoh and his family, others showing different breeds of dragon fetching books from inside the Library of Alexandria.

History is dotted with famous dragons and their bonded humans; King Arthur and his steel-colored dragon, Excalibur. William Shakespeare and his dragon, Bard. Cleopatra and Bucephalus, named after Alexander the Great’s legendary steed. Abraham Lincoln and his dragon, Crusoe.

Over the centuries, dragons have become smaller from the giants painted in mythology, old texts and wall murals. The biggest dragon these days are about the size of a large crocodile, with the biggest recorded in the last decade almost as big as a hippo. Height varies on the type of dragon - with the tallest one balancing on its tail, hits almost eye level with a giraffe.

Classes have been taught for centuries about dragons and the bond between them with humans. Dragons will sometimes die right after their human counterpart and vice versa. Dragons who have lost their counterpart will sometimes live, seeking out their counterpart’s soulmate to stay with their draconian mates as well. It is not an uncommon thing - especially after times of war - for soulmates to have both dragons if one has died.

Dragon pairs will usually have the same colors and markings, even though they will often not be the same type of dragon. Dragons may look similar to the human eye, but a dragon will know it’s mate no matter what. It has not been determined how the dragons know their mate almost instantaneously, but after millennia humans have begun to follow the dragon counterpart’s knowledge in this area. Marriages of alliance and royalty have often been changed or dropped when one party finds its soulmate. In the same vein, marriages have also been arranged due to this circumstance as well. Cinderella is the most referenced fairy tale of this, with Cinderella having the same sapphire and gold colored dragon as the prince (*Dragon color varies by region and culture).

Soulmate bonds are some of the strongest bonds in our world. Both between a dragon pair and between a human pair. And on the flip side of the Cinderella story, dragons will attempt to push their human partners together if the human counterpart doesn’t seem interested or could result in a rejection.

On the same page, a rejection of this bond - always by the human partner - can have devastating consequences. This broken or unformed bond may result in: at first, flu-like symptoms but can build up to more serious symptoms such as feeling weak or run down, tremors and/or tics, varying weight loss, chest pains and even very mild seizures have been documented. Usually the bond is mended or solidified before it comes to these more serious issues. There are also historic rumors of deaths from broken hearts due to rejections, which has yet to be scientifically proven. The aforementioned symptoms may require hospitalization.

To date no dragon has succumbed to any symptoms from their human counterparts due to the rejection of the bond, which dragon experts seem truly puzzled by due to the strong bonds that can be formed between a human and a dragon. Rejections, however, are rare and scientists aren’t yet sure of all possible symptoms associated with a rejection of a bond. Touch, however, is shown to remedy these symptoms in trials and is known to be a powerful connector between a human and it’s dragon partner as well.

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If there was one thing Steve Rogers knew, it was that Peggy Carter was his soulmate.

He’ll admit he doesn’t think of it as often as when he came out of the ice, but he does still think about it - about Peggy - every few days. More so when Bucky, Sam and himself are out for lunch or when he and Wanda may be grabbing some coffee, because that is when he sees soulmates together. 

The way soulmates look at each other is different. Like they don’t just see the person before them, but everything they are and could be; all rolled into everything they love.

And he’s envious of that look.

He knows he hasn’t received it. And he truly believes he hasn’t given it either. Sometimes he chalks it up to not being actual bonded soulmates with Peggy. Because he knows that the love that was blossoming would have turned into that loving, enraptured gaze he always longed for.

It’s the thought that gets interrupted when his cell rings on the way back from their morning run. He quickly switches his coffee cup to his other hand to fish the phone from his pant pocket, revealing Tony’s face on the screen.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Need you, the bird and the metal popsicle back here asap. Got a hit on a Hydra offshoot. Wheels up in 30.”

“Got it. We’re just a few blocks from the Tower now.”

“Pick up the pace then, old man,” And the call ends. He looks at Sam and Bucky before tossing back what’s left of his coffee and throwing it in a nearby trash can.

“Mission. Wheels go up in 30.” Sam sighs at his words.

“Morning calls are rare, man. Must be big.”

“Hydra,” Bucky mutters with a shake of his head before polishing off his own coffee. “Come on. Gonna take most of that time to get the scalies ready.”

“You know,” Sam mutters with a smug grin as they all continue towards the Tower, “You’ve picked up your soulmate’s habit of calling the dragons weird names.” Sam tosses his empty cup and dodges a swat from Bucky.

“Jealousy is an ugly, ugly thing Sam…”

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Steve shifts in his place in the rafters, Rak wiggling on his back in response to peer over his shoulder down at the HYDRA agents. He nods at Bucky, who is perched across the building, just above the exit.

“Where’d you find this one?”

“Get this - a museum.” The blonde HYDRA agent cackles, leaving the brunet nodding, a serious look on his face. A loud clang of the door reveals two more HYDRA agents, dragging another person between them while a third agent follows behind with a tactical machine gun held tightly in his grip. If body shape is anything to go on, it’s a woman. A curvy and buxom one. Bucky quickly types out an update in Morse code to Natasha who is stationed outside with Sam and Tony as the brunet drags a heavy wooden chair into the middle of the room.

They toss the captive into the chair, zip tying their wrists behind them before pulling off the thick bag from their head. If looks could kill…

“Now, Miss, we are going to ask you a series of questions -”

“Fuck. Off.” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up at the venom in her tone.

“You don’t seem to know who we are.” Her jaw clenches as she looks away from the salt and pepper haired man who dragged her in. “Come now. I don’t want to injure you more than necessary…”

“Right.” She snaps, looking down at her lap with a sigh. The tall brunet who helped drag her in shifts to stand behind her, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking her head back. Her gasp makes Rak hiss in his ear, Steve feeling his claw tips through his suit. He tilts his head to rub it against Rak’s, offering that silent comfort to calm him down.

“Now, Miss, the first question is: You work in the nearby museum, correct?”

“Seeing as that’s where you took me from…” She gasps again as the hand tightens in her hair, bending her head back a little more. That’s when she notices Bucky in the rafters - quickly closing her eyes and sniffles loudly.

“What are you working on there?”

“Paleontology mostly. But when I started there I worked in the geology department. I’m a floater between departments since I don’t have my full degree yet.” The man relaxes his grip a little, pushing her head forward towards its normal position again.

“Rocks and bones.” The older agent chuckles before rubbing his hand over his graying beard. “Do you do anything else in the museum?”

“I assist only in the two departments. The only reason I help the geology is when the woman who regularly helps is gone cause she’s having a rough pregnancy.”

“Now we know that’s a lie. You spend a lot of time in the accounting office.” Her head is pulled back again so she’s looking at the ceiling again.

“I’m not sure you lot are aware that each department has a budget. I have to submit forms every month about the spending. Plus, one of the accountants is my friend.”

“So you are saying our intel is wrong?”

“Look, I’d like my head to stay attached, but yes, your intel is shit. Probably someone just looking not to be in the position I’m currently in.”

“So the museum isn’t looking into the dragons ancestors?”

“If they are, then I don’t know about it. I’m a peon!” She yanks her head from the man’s grasp and struggles in the chair.

“Little cherub, you are a terrible liar.”

“Listen asshat, I am keenly aware I’m a terrible liar. So I tend NOT to lie. Especially to someone who has tied me to a chair and has a fucking gun!!” He sighs, giving a little shake of his head before his hand shoots out and backhands her, making her head snap to the left. Rak’s claws pierce through his suit, smoke curling from his nostrils making Steve tense under him even more. He holds his hand up in a stopping motion, Bucky cocking his head slightly before Steve gestures over his shoulder at Rak.

“Woman, HYDRA has been looking for you for awhile.”

“Seems like a waste of time to me. I can’t have anything HYDRA could possibly want. Except maybe morals.”

“We don’t need morals in HYDRA.” The blonde grunts out from his leaning place against the wall.

“I’m aware. Ya ever think that’s why SHIELD and the Avengers whip your ass? Resign you to the shadows like the phantoms you are.” There is a loud enough explosion that everyone turns towards the exit, the men all tensing. “AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YOUR SIGIL OR WHATEVER IT IS MAKES ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING SENSE! HYDRA MEANS 5! WHY DOES YOUR SYMBOL HAVE 8? AND DO YOU ALL KNOW THAT THE HYDRA WAS DEFEATED???” Her head is sent sharply to the left again, blood trickling from her lip at the contact.

“WHO FOLLOWED YOU?!” The older agent snaps at the blonde and brunet who they saw first.

“NO ONE, SIR!” Bucky drops down just as Tony comes through the back exit, making Steve shimmy upright before he begins across the beams in the rafters to cut off their retreat.

He drops down with a dull thud, blocking the HYDRA agents as planned but the brunet with the machine gun has it pointed under the woman’s jaw.

“She’s not so sassy now,” The man in charge smirks out, stroking a finger down her cheek. He glances behind, seeing Bucky, Tony and Natasha behind him.

“You know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.” Her words loud and clear as her gaze slides towards the older agent, the muzzle of the gun digging harder into her skin at her words.

“Snarky little bitch, isn’t she?”

“I like snark,” Tony mentions, looking to Natasha who just rolls her eyes. “But that’s because I’m just so good at it.”

“Release the girl, unharmed, and we’ll take you alive.” Steve offers, Rak’s nails digging into his shoulder once more as smoke begins to curl out of his nose again.

“How about no?” The agent whom had been silent this entire time speaks with a sneer, his little blue dragon’s head popping from a pocket in his utility pants.

Bucky lets loose a single round to the knee of the agent with the sub machine gun, making him buckle and the gun drop from his grip. That’s when Tony blasts the salt and pepper haired man past Steve as Natasha cuts the woman free, only for the woman to rush past Steve and the other agents deeper into the warehouse. Rak jumps from his shoulder and flys after her, prompting Steve to sigh as Bucky runs past, following after her and Rak.

“Does she realize the exit is the other way?!” Tony yells through the comms, taking a stance by where he’d entered to fend off dozens of incoming HYDRA. Two men run towards Steve only to stutter to the ground as electricity surges through their bodies.

“Thanks Nat.” He grunts before rushing through the doorway to find his best friend, his dragon and the directionally impaired woman.

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You’re trying desperately to remember the turns they’ve dragged you through, looking for the spot where they had separated the two of you and tossed a bag over your head. A man moves to grab you, only to be attacked by an aggressive ruby dragon. It then scrabbles up your legs and perches itself on your shoulder, urging you on with a little grunt. You tread a little more carefully after that, but no less urgent, a scream clogging your throat as someone grabs your shoulder from behind before slipping a hand over your mouth. 

“Don’t scream.” You nod as the former Winter Soldier comes into view. “You know, the easy exit was the other way.”

“I’m aware. But they tossed my dragon in a big plastic looking box then I got the bag and drag treatment.”

“This warehouse has two floors in the front half, did they take you upstairs at all?” A shake of your head is all you can manage before the dragon flits from your shoulder and begins running down the hallway. “I guess we follow Rak then. You stay behind me and if I tell you to do something -”

“Consider it done.” You agree before gently pushing at his arm to get him moving.

Rak doesn’t stop until he’s about two hallways off where you all stopped, hissing and sending several fiery breaths towards the small side dock where HYDRA agents were loading up your dragon.

“Velma!” Her answering screech is enough to get you moving, Sgt. Barnes hand shooting out to keep you behind him. He’s got two of them shot and Rak is mauling another when you see a silver blur knock out the other two. It’s only when you turn to your right do you see Captain America snatch his shield, holding it for a beat before turning to look at you. If looks could lecture...you’d be in for a loooong one.

But as he gives you that look all you can think of is that now all the douche HYDRA agents are now k-o’ed, so you rush over to the giant box, sticking your fingers through the big air holes to stroke at her muzzle, Rak chirping at Sgt. Barnes, who steps around your crouched form and snaps the two heavy duty locks off with his metal hand. Your dragon bursts from the cage and tackles you, curling herself around your chest and neck as best she can as you coo reassurances to her.

“We gotta go,” Steve takes hold of your elbow, helping you up as you heft Velma off the ground, her wings wrapping securely around you as you follow Captain America back the way you came. Rak is riding on his shoulder and moving his ruby head back and forth between you and the hallway ahead. The Black Widow joins you halfway back and takes point, an emerald green dragon with beautiful iridescent wings in shades of purples, blacks, greens and a few splashes of a pale yellow shimmer brightly even in the dim lights of the warehouse hallway. You let out a soft grunt, hefting Velma a little higher as your arms start to tire. “Almost there. I can carry her, if you like?” He doesn’t look at you when he offers, simply continues looking forward at his measured pace beside you.

“I can manage,” Your pride answers before your tired arms can get a word in, a smile twitching at his lips at your answer, which just makes your pride suddenly all the more determined to do it yourself. He moves forward when you all get back to where the attack began, Natasha taking his place before Falcon glides in through the hole in the wall.

“It’s all secure to the jet,” He reports as he lands. “Tony is circling the outer gates to make sure they don’t have anything else - hostages or weapons.”

“Alright. Let’s get her on the jet. We’ll look her over and call into the compound for the doctor to be ready when we arrive.”

“Already done,” Natasha confirms and they all move in a protective box around you and Velma, Falcon now on your right and Natasha on your left as the good Captain takes the lead and the Sergeant keeps his place in the rear.

You’re herded - there is no other way to put it really - onto this very expensive, military-looking, and slightly futuristic jet. Falcon gestures to a seat and you kneel in front of it, carefully dislodging your draconian partner before taking the seat. Her scaled head nudges your open hand, reminding you that you’ve both made it.

Safe echoes in your mind and you nod, meeting her light amethyst eyes.

Safe, you reply as she climbs awkwardly into the seat beside yours, laying her head on your thigh.

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“Baby,” She coos to the dragon, a shiver going up his spine at the softness and care in her tone, her hand sliding easily over it’s red scales as Sam returns to her side with a first aid kit.

“They do anything else besides these?” Sam asks gently, his finger brushing softly over her cheek where it’s already beginning to swell. A shake of her head is all she manages, “Okay, I’m gonna clean it with an alcohol pad.” Sam swipes it across her cheek and around the left side of her mouth to get off the dried blood. When he dabs just under her lip she hisses and so does Rak, her own dragon tensing up and curling it’s upper lip just enough to flash the tips of its teeth.

“Down, kids,” She mumbles out before Tony struts onto the jet.

“All clear. Let’s go home.” Tony sits beside her as the jet begins to ascend, both men’s gazes dropping to her free hand which is gripping the edge of her seat. “I’m Tony.”

“Y/N.”

“Dragon?”

“Velma.”

“Velma,” Tony repeats with a chuckle. “I like it. Suits you both. This is Jericho.”

“‘By faith the walls of Jericho fell’…is that right?”

“Exactly! ‘See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands’. My mother insisted that I know the Bible. I just liked the idea of marching and horns defeating a strong enemy. No bullets, no bombs; just faith.”

“Kind of goes against the initial sort of images of yourself, huh?” Tony leans in slightly, a grin flirting on his lips.

“Have you been talking to my wife?” She leans in too, their foreheads nearly touching.

“I think I’d remember talking to her.”

“She is very memorable.” He agrees, leaning back in the seat before waving his finger at her chest. “Buckle up. We should be there in about twenty or thirty.”

“Do you need anything?” Steve asks, Bucky’s eye popping open from his resting place in the corner and a tiny twitch of his lips making him want to glare at his best friend.

“No, thank you.” Steve nods, moving to the front to talk to Natasha when Rak flits to the floor and scurries over to her, his head tilted to one side with his begging eyes on. Steve moves to turn back to stop Rak from bothering her. “Get up here then,” A smile dancing in her eyes as he chirps happily, leaping easily into her lap and shaking his wings out before carefully settling down, his snout resting beside Velma’s.

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You’re just nodding off when the jet lands, carefully tapping Velma and then Rak to wake them before stretching, wincing at the soreness in your face and neck.

Steve walks by you as the bay door opens before he whistles, Rak’s head perking up from the seat beside you, but he doesn’t move. This doesn’t seem to sit well with Steve, who glares at his partner like he’s betrayed him.

The dragon begrudgingly jumps down and stands at the Captain’s feet, an outstretched hand drawing you from the curiosity you felt watching Rak and Steve. You’re met with storm blue eyes and a small, easy smile.

“Come on, kid,” Unclicking from your seat, you accept his hand with a hushed thank you. You are hardly off the jet before a white marble blur nearly takes James down, his laughter ringing out before a woman appears just after, helping him up and the two of them disappearing into the building. You’re caught at a crossroads of sorts...Do you follow? Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?

“Are you Y/N?” You’re startled from your thoughts by a woman with thick black hair piled atop her head in a white lab coat.

“Yes?”

“I’m Dr. Hale. Natasha and Tony told us to be expecting you.” She gestures you forward, opposite to where the Avengers disappeared to. You follow obediently, with Velma trailing behind you, also looking to where they’d all gone. “Do you have any medical conditions we should be aware of?”

“No.”

“High blood pressure?”

“No, but if it’s high I was just taken hostage and then backhanded twice before having a gun shoved against my jaw while they tried to take my dragon.” She makes a face, eyebrows raised and fighting back a smile before she manages a big nod.

“Understandable...well let’s check all that. Was your dragon injured?”

“I ran my hands over all of her and she’s not injured that I can tell.” You look down at her, purple eyes alight. “You hurt, baby?” Velma shakes her head, her tail twitching slightly when she does so.

“Perfect. We’ll just check you over and then Tony should come get you.” All you can do is nod, following her into a very white and metallic exam room.

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Steve’s voice can be heard through the door of his room, he’s sure of it.

Rak has snapped at him twice so far and nearly set his comforter on fire because he ordered him to stay put while he showered. Steve knew where he would wander off to and he told Rak he needs to let the doctor do their job and check them over. He had angrily settled down when Howl had come into the room, the bigger dragon tossing himself down onto Rak’s bed - successfully luring Rak to him and calming the little spitfire down long enough for Steve to get a shower.

Once he was out of the shower, Rak started up again, a stare off ensuing between the two of them while Howl looked on in amusement.

“I said no!” Steve snaps at the wyvern before clenching his jaw so tight he’s sure he hears a pop. Rak opens his mouth, flashing all his teeth only to snap it closed when Bucky’s soulmate sticks her head in.

“Sorry. I knocked, but you must not have heard...I was just looking for Howl.” Howl’s whole body shakes as he wiggles his way happily to her. “Tony just went to get the woman from the infirmary, just to let you know.” Steve scowls at her as Rak begins to follow Howl out the door.

“Hey! Best behavior. And you need to cut the whole hissing, snapping and fire at me, you little gas ball.” Rak snorts, almost giving an eye roll as Steve blocks the door. “Shoulder.” He points for emphasis, his partner huffing as he slowly climbs up onto his shoulder. “And stay there, do you understand?” He turns his ruby head away and Steve’s mind wanders to the impossible...but he quickly shakes that thought from his head.

When she enters the room with her dragon, her cheek and lip swollen a little more than an hour ago when he’d seen her.

Wanda gasps as she enters the room, looking from Rak to Velma, Rak doing the exact fucking opposite as he was told - flinging himself from Steve’s shoulder and running towards you and Velma - before giving a little squeal.

“I’ve never seen a dragon soulmate pair meeting!” Steve looks in confusion from the dragons to Wanda and then to the woman, the room now deadly silent except for the soft, contented growls coming from the pair of ruby dragons curled around each other at Y/N’s feet.

“What - no, that’s not - that’s not possible.” Steve snorts in disbelief after he manages his oh-so eloquent words. “No. She’s not my soulmate,” The words tumble from his lips before he has a chance to really think the situation over but his eyes still see everything.

They see the hope that was blossoming in her soft eyes and they see the confusion flash through those pretty eyes before the hurt makes the light die out in them, her eyes dropping to the floor quickly.

He opens his mouth to refute his own words - to apologize and take it back - when he sees Bucky glaring at him.

After all, hadn’t it been him who had told Bucky to go after his dragon and his soulmate? Who had told Bucky he’d give anything to be in his shoes? And now that he was, he had just rejected his soulmate.

You could hear a pin drop as he stands there gaping like a fish before managing to firmly close his mouth.

She’s staring at their dragons, snouts pressed along side each other with their wings touching, tails twined together before she looks up and blinks rapidly. He knows she’s willing the tears away and it physically hurts him to see her avert her eyes.

Clint steps forward, whispering in her ear before offering her his arm. Clint takes her past him, both of their dragons trailing eagerly after her and both blatantly ignoring his very existence.

“All clear boss,” comes a familiar accented voice, Steve can feel all of his family’s eyes boring into him before Natasha speaks up.

“What the actual hell, you dumbass?”

“My sentiments exactly.” Tony pipes up from behind her.

“Didn’t you say you wish you were in my shoes?” Sam just harrumphs at Bucky’s words from where he’s sitting on the couch by Bucky and his soulmate.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” Wanda mutters among the other comments, worrying her bottom lip.

“It’s not your fault, Wanda,” Mercy soothes from the couch, hand gently squeezing Bucky’s as her dragon Cloud moves from her shoulder to Bucky’s, sensing his tenseness.

“Clint’s giving her a tour. She’ll be staying here until we can find out specifically why Hydra was after her. That should give you enough time to pull your head out of your ass,” Tony states while shoving his long sleeves up a bit on his forearms, hitting Steve with a “Sweet Jesus” side eye that Steve was all too well acquainted with.

“It just came out!”

“Like diarrhea…” Pietro says loudly from the kitchen, tossing a handful of grapes into his mouth. Steve glares at the male Maximoff, whom he literally didn’t even realize was in the damn kitchen.

“Again, it just came out. I didn’t even think about what I said!”

“That is abundantly clear,” Howl crawls into Bucky’s lap at his words, big eyes pleading to his human dad for pets to calm them both down, tail twacking Mercy who just rolls her eyes playfully at his needy and loving response to Bucky’s mood. Bucky smiling oh so softly at Howl and Mercy, as he strokes the oversized dragon taking up his lap.

Steve watches that and he aches for it. Those knowing looks to share with his soulmate.

But Peggy is gone.

And he doesn’t know where to go from here with this woman. Or the fact that Rak is completely convinced that Velma is his mate.

Because he is pretty sure she isn’t.

‘Pretty sure’ isn’t going to cut it for everyone else though. It definitely won’t be enough for Rak, that little gas ball of betrayal.

Steve was well and truly fucked.

Tagging:  @moonbeambucky @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr

[surfalldaybaby]

”A Very Long and Comprehensive Analysis of Feyre’s Experience w/ Trauma and Abuse

- This is not a kind analysis of Nesta but please still read it if you want. It’s not in the wrong tags tho so please don’t rant about how much you love Nesta. I love that for you. Personally, I hate her. :)

Also- I use many of the quotes that @feysandlover and @dont-rattle-aelin used to prove her point that Nesta is abusive because she pulled many of the really jarring ones. 

I was looking through the Rhysand tag and for some reason someone posted something comparing Nesta and Feyre in terms of their trauma, and they said that Nesta had experienced way more trauma than Feyre and I-

That’s disgusting.

First - don’t compare trauma

Second- they were wrong and lacked critical thinking skills that left out Feyre’s full experience with abuse

Nesta was sexually assaulted ( which nobody talks about enough) and her family’s fortune flipped making them poor overnight. Because of this she fostered anger towards her father. I get that. I sympathize with that. She is then taken away from her life and forcefully changed into fae. I cannot imagine what that felt like for her. It must have been devastating. Her whole identity was shifted in one day and she went from hating fae to being fae. Confusing and overwhelming. She then goes into war and develops PTSD and depression from her experiences. She sees her father die and is unable to reconcile her anger and his death. It’s horrible and I cannot even begin to understand the depth of her emotions here. I have zero issue saying that about Nesta because it’s true she has gone through extaordinary trauma and I cannot imagine how she fully feels. She deals with this trauma in unhealthy ways because they only exacerbate her feelings of worthlessness. Not her fault. However, she also treats Mor and Feyre and Rhys in disrespectful ways and Cassian and her have an unhealthy dynamic where they insult each other. Her and Amren have a shaky and partner like relationship but it is by no means a sturdy one. Az and Nesta don’t seem to have a relationship at all. She has no true healthy relationship with anyone but Elain, and you could argue even that is not truly healthy.

Much of Nesta’s trauma is due to extraneous factors and a multitude or variables. It’s valid and it matters just as much as Feyres. They are both real. However the amount of traumatic experiences she has gone through does not come close to rivaling that of Feyre’s and to even try and compare them is disgusting. Trauma should never be compared but I want to show Feyre’s experience in a broader light to show her development from a scared girl to high lady

Feyre was never an active abuser in any relationship she was always the one being abused. Nesta was abused and she was also the abuser. It is important to point that out because it heavily impacts Feyre’s story.

Also, I believe the reason Feyre became so accustomed and slipped so easily into being a victim to Tamlins abuse is because Feyre was already the victim of emotional abuse from her sisters. We see this everyday, research shows that victims of abuse go back to abusive relationship and form new relationships that center around abuse because they are used to it and find it comforting. This is an extraneous point that you can agree with or can argue against it’s just a personal connection I made. However, it is very evident how Nesta and Elains treatment of Feyre affects her. She has no self confidence, she remains illiterate and with no real knowledge of polite manners ( something important in the real world, something that holds her back from being able to assimilate into the real world), her spirit is broken down at home because she knows  that verbal attacks are going to come and Nesta is going to lash out and say horrible disgusting things to her if she asks her to do something or holds her accountable for her lack of work. She is constantly degraded for everything that she does and it has a pronoucned effect on her psyche throughout the trilogy and novella. 

Like Nesta, Feyre also had to go through her family losing their fortune, she also had to bear the weight of her promise to her mother, she had to support her sisters financially going into the forest alone to hunt animals just as big as herself at 14. She never had money for herself because her sisters took it from her. Like they literally took all her money to buy things they did not need, leaving Feyre with basically nothing.

“I’d love a new cloak,” Elain said at last with a sigh, at the same moment Nesta rose and declared: “I need a new pair of boots.””“I kept quiet, knowing better than to get in the middle of one of their arguments, but I glanced at Nesta’s still-shiny pair by the door. Beside hers, my too-small boots were falling apart at the seams, held together only by fraying laces... I drowned them out as they began quarreling over who would get the money the hide would fetch tomorrow…”

 And Nesta complains and whines and doesn’t stop gaslighting Feyre because of her lack of hard work. But, she doesn’t want to do work herself because she thinks it’s beneath her. 

“I thought you were going to chop wood today. Nesta picked at her long, neat nails. “I hate chopping wood. I always get splinters. She glanced up from beneath her dark lashes. Of all of us, Nesta looked the most like our mother—especially when she wanted something. “Besides, Feyre,” she said with a pout, “you’re so much better at it! It takes you half the time it takes me. Your hands are suited for it—they’re already so rough.” My jaw clenched. “Please,” I asked, calming my breathing, knowing an argument was the last thing I needed or wanted. “Please get up at dawn to chop that wood.” I unbuttoned the top of my tunic. “Or we’ll be eating a cold breakfast.” Her brows narrowed. “I will do no such thing!”

She doesn’t care about Feyre or the fact that starving is their new reality. Poverty is what they live in. We all know if Feyre didn’t go hunting Nesta would be furious at Feyre and belittle her and make her feel small and responsible for their hunger.

“Take those disgusting clothes off.” 

“Any bit of praise for anyone—me, Elain, other villagers—usually resulted in her dismissal.”

“Is there a problem, Feyre?” She flung my name like an insult, and my jaw ached from clenching it so hard.”

“You stink like a pig covered in its own filth. Can’t you at least try to pretend that you’re not an ignorant peasant?”c“Take those disgusting clothes off.” 

“What do you know?” Nesta breathed. “You’re just a half-wild beast with the nerve to bark orders at all hours of the day and night. Keep it up, and someday—someday, Feyre, you’ll have no one left to remember you, or to care that you ever existed.” She stormed off, Elain darting after her, cooing her sympathy. 

Then Tamlim comes and kidnaps her. More trauma. She falls in love with him, I think partly because of Stockholm Syndrome and also because he shows her a level of kindness that she was not given at home, and then he disappears so she has to go back to her life with her sisters. Her sisters have all the benefits of her being stolen away bcs Feyre was able to provide their old house and wealth back through Tamlin’s gift. Her sisters literally never did anything to provide for themselves or help their father or sister. If you really think about that situation as a whole it’s devastating. Then she goes to save Tamlin and finds that her home and her loved one was basically destroyed. She goes to save him.

While under the mountain Amarantha humiliates and tortures her for fun. She makes her run around trying to get away from a monster, her illiteracy is exploited for amusement while she is under pressure of death by fire, she is forced to kill fae in order to save her love, and she has to suffer with her injuries in a basement where everyone is rooting against her.

Then she fucking dies. And like Nesta she is forced to become fae in order to survive. Like she can’t catch a break. Her whole life has really just been horrible and so traumatic. A series of abuses.

That’s not even all! She goes home and is deeply depressed and struggling with PTSD and Tamlin, who she literally was tortured and died to save, takes advantage of her sexually because he is too scared to acknowledge that she is struggling. He uses her body for his pleasure while she throws up every night after he leaves her bedroom due to the nightmares she gets from saving hundreds of fae. She is also forced to fit into a box that she doesn’t want- wearing dresses, pretending to be happy, becoming a figurehead as Tamlins bride knowing that it means she will have to be submissive and have children. Lucien emotionally abused her and ignores her obvious depression because of his own fear of what Tamlin would say. He is a bystander. She is so broken that she stops caring about everything, even painting, the one thing she always loved. Then he traps her in his house which is traumatizing again because she was just trapped under the mountain! Even the people she loved, the people she trusted, continually can’t stop abusing her.

She finds happiness and stability later on after intensive work on herself, and months of building healthy relationships, but she is still troubled because of the guilt she feels from the townsfolks anger and their sense of righteousness for her actions even though she did the best she could in every circumstance. When she goes to try and save those townspeople it becomes clear that Nesta still hates her. She shows Feyre no kindness. The only reason she is allowed to use the house, the one that Feyre got for them, was because of Elain. Even after that Nesta insults her repeatedly for being fae. Those statments from the first book that I quoted higher up in this post are just a small part of how she speaks to Feyre in the following three books after she finds out that she is fae. Even after Feyre saves her and supports her she continues abusing and blaming Feyre. She continues to insult. degrade, shame, and humiliate her to uplift her own lack of self worth. Its a technique to stop her own insecurity and depression but it is in no way excusable. It’s no wonder Rhysand hates her. She abused his mate for years- something that he experienced under the mountain (shame, gaslighting, and humiliation). That is her life. She goes on to see her father murdered. She suffered so much in such a short amount of time is a wonder she wasn’t more broken.

Don’t come to me saying Nesta experienced more trauma to prove your point that Nesta is a good person and not responsible for her actions because she “feels to much” and is a woman that is cruel, and prideful, and unapologetic “bcs that’s who she is.” She has to be held accountable for her actions, her attitude, and her lack of words and apologies to everyone she wronged- especially her sister.

Feyre sacrifices her childhood, her body, her mental health, and her life in order to provide the stability that her sisters felt was their norm. They are inherently priviledged because of that sacrifice. They felt and still feel entitled to her money, and her loyalty, and that of her friends and mate. They survive because of Feyre. And Feyre never once called them out on their behavior, not even when they continually disrespected her after she provided them with a place to live and money to live off of. This was due to her feelings of guilt and the trauma that she had continually been victim to as a child and in Tamlins court.

Some of y’all use the excuse that they never asked Feyre to do any of that and I’m genuinely appalled that that is even a response to her genuine sacrifice. Her mother asked her to take care of them. Nobody was stepping up. Nesta was not going to go into the forest and neither was Elain, both for different but equally disappointing reasons. They both would have let the family starve. Also, Nesta and Elain were both older than her. Elain and Nesta as Feyre’s old sisters should have, and had a responsibility, to ensure that Feyre didn’t have to do what she did. Their apathy and ungrateful attitude is disgusting. Disgusting and unforgivable. Sure, Feyre may have been able to do it but she never should have had to. The three of them should have figured out a plan of equal work to give and take and survive. Y’all saying that Feyre never had to do that I- ... do you not have a family? Do you not have loved ones? You don’t have to do something to help your family, but you do it anyway because you love them and you hate to see them suffer. It’s just that usually you aren’t being exploited and taken advantage of at 14, for years on end, because the sentiment is usually reciprocated.

Perhaps if they had taken better care of their younger sister she would not have been in the woods and killed the fae. Perhaps all three of them would have bore the brunt of their fathers injury together and made a family. Perhaps if she hadn’t killed the fae in the forest when she was starving due to her sisters laziness, Elain and Nesta would never have been forced into being fae.

They neglected Feyre. They aren’t as responsible for her as their father ofc but they actively neglected her and Nesta even slut shamed her for her consensual sexual relationship with Isaac. The one thing she had that her sisters couldn’t take and Nesta called her filthy and disgusting for it.

“At least I don’t have to resort to rutting in the hay with Isaac Hale like an animal.” 

Nesta remains unapologetic and to me she is not a feminist character. Sarah J Mass tried to use her as that trope to fulfill her idea of a “powerful woman” icon but she’s just a cruel and traumatized woman who people let off the hook. She gets away with it because she gaslights other characters while taking no responsibility for herself. She was abused and traumatized herself but that’s never an excuse for her in turn abusing someone else.

Now I don’t mean to say that Nesta or Elain are irredeemable. Frankly I think they both have potential to be good characters if they just apologized to Feyre in the next book, and really put those sentiments into actions. I do think Nesta is a bad person right now, I think she’s an abuser. And I think it’s hard for abusers to change their pattern of abuse. Elain is less of an outright abuser and more complicit in the abuse. I don’t know if either of them can change, but they definitely won’t if people keep letting them off the hook for their disgusting behavior. I am not impressed or charmed by either of them. Until they show a hint of gratitude and remorse to their sister because as y’all can tell she went through hell to make sure they were taken care of. Not to say that they didn’t do anything for Feyre. They both  had important roles to play in the war, and they do have their moments of kindness and bravery and showed they cared for Feyre but abusers can be kind and considerate and brave one minute and then switch up just as fast. It’s about showing a consistent pattern of respect and love. 

Just because Feyre took care of Elain and Nesta their whole damn life does not mean she has to be responsible for them as high lady. Also she is not responsible for knowing how to deal with their trauma. Her own abuse, and lack of real world experience- because Nesta and Elain never taught her to read, and Nesta continually degraded and made cruel remarks to Feyre about her lack of manners “ disgusting pig, take off your clothes didn’t anyone teach you ...” (manners she didn’t develop because she was in the forest)- means she is not perfect at confronting Nestas PTSD or depression. Feyre’s intention was always good, whereas you can’t tell me that Nestas was good and pure. She is not exempt from being respectful and kind because she is hurt and has mental illnesses. She is not exempt from apologizing because she “feels to much.”

This applies to all of the IC as well. They are all healing. They all experienced trauma that rivals what Feyre went through. It’s no wonder they built a family from that shared bond. They are healing together- not healed. Nesta is not entitled to Feyre’s care or her friends kindness. She is not entitled to be added into the group painting or their secret jokes or parties because she continues to push them all away. Then she insults them and disrespects them. The inner circle has already suffered so much they are not exactly going to be open to accepting Nesta knowing her history and her current actions and remarks, and the history of the IC. Do y’all not remember Mors family nailing a stake into her body for losing her virginity? Or Cassian, Az, and Rhys being forced to bond together to survive, being called bastards, and being ganged up on by all their peers? Rhys being sexually abused for 50 years and seeing his parents murdered? Az being stuck in a basement so long he became the shadows and his hands being burned so badly they were hard to look at? Or Amren being in the wrong body for centuries and still she and all of the IC remain a family because they try to understand each other and their experiences. Nesta was not only rude to them she was cruel and spiteful, especially to their high lady, and they don’t need an excuse, but especially as victims of abuse, they are not perfect, and they sure as hell are not obligated to embrace Nesta into their family. The IC and Feyre deserve better.

A lot of people have posed the argument that if Nesta was male everyone would love her but I disagree. If an older brother let his sister go hunting alone in the woods for years while sitting on his ass, slut shamed her and called her dirty and disgusting, blamed her for her family’s poverty and spoke to her like she was trash for years and years, verbally and emotionally belittled her, felt entitled to her possessions and her kindness while they were both struggling to heal from abuse, predisposes his sister to accepting abuse as a form of relationship, and then rather than apologize “steels [her] back” and says nothing-not even an apology or a thank you for saving their life tenfold- he would never even have gotten a redemption story, or a mate, let alone a 700 page book. He would be the most hated character in the series but because it’s Nesta and she’s a woman and y’all pose her as this feminist it’s okay that shes abusive all throughout the series.

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. v

→ one | two | three | four

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part five / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 3,127

☾v.

Name: Sayomi Zoldyck 小夜美 | "小" is small | "夜" is night | "美" is beauty |

Hair color: White

Eye Color: Purple

Nen: Manipulator (same exact abilities as Illumi)

Abilities: Same as Illumi Zoldyck - Body Alteration, Hypnotic Spell, Corpse Control, Needle People, Katana

☾v. part v: the mafia(2/2)

Sayomi made her way to the elevators once again, dispatching the control room through her walkie talkie that she needed to get to her shift.

It was currently a quarter to 1, the last minutes before her shift would start. With a hand resting on her katana, Sayomi now exited the elevator having arrived at the 48th floor.

As she approached the VIP’s room, the two bodyguards on duty sighed in relief. 

“Thank god, it’s finally rotation time”, the woman exhaled lazily.

Sayomi tried her luck at a friendly interaction, casually asking the pair a question. “I’m guessing there wasn’t any action?”

The man laughed a genuine, but tired laugh. “Absolutely nothing. We haven’t moved an inch since the start of our shift.”

Sayomi laughed at the pair’s lack of enthusiasm, her violet eyes crinkling at the edges. Her expression of joy seemed infectious, as the older members in front of her laughed along with her in their despair.

She was starting to feel like a true member of the team already.

This is nice, I didn’t expect the others to be as unmotivated as me. 

Closing in on the time designated for the shift change, Sayomi’s partner arrived as well. Seeing no purpose in waiting around when everyone was present, the pairs switched early, starting Sayomi on her very first stretch as a bodyguard.

☾v.

The first 30 minutes into her shift, Sayomi had learned that her partner was a rather quiet person by nature.

Upon starting their shift, the two had exchanged a brief greeting, nodding to acknowledge the other.

It was only after an hour of standing and staring at the wall that Sayomi decided she couldn’t stand the silence while they waited out their shift.

She initiated a conversation with the older man, coming out bold as to establish her character.

“So, how did such an average man like you get stuck working for the mafia?”

The man was unmoving, replying to her question in a soft voice. “My family’s debt… Why did a young girl like you get caught up with the mafia?”

She wasn’t expecting such an honest response from the man. It threw her off, making her unprepared to answer the question shot her way.

“Um… I guess you could say family circumstances?” She hadn’t lied, given that it was her family’s actions that left her at Meteor City.

The man nodded in understanding at her vague answer. 

Another wave of awkward silence fell over the two, Sayomi’s initial attempt at socializing having failed miserably. 

She decided not to reattempt a conversation with the man, sensing that he didn’t care for idle chatter.

Family circumstances, huh. That’s the best thing I could think of. 

Sayomi had fallen deep in thought, her brows furrowing as she reflected back on her life.

I wonder if… father ever came looking for me? Or Illumi… did Illumi want me gone too? Ah, I shouldn’t be so dramatic about this. Either way I won’t return home, because that would mean mother winning. 

She exhaled audibly, tired from the splurge of thoughts that had taken over her mind once again. 

The man glanced over at the teen stationed next to him. She was obviously just as bored as he was to be stuck with this job.

Moving his eyes back forward to the wall in front of him, he attempted to kickstart a conversation once again. “You seem a bit too young to be on your own, don’t you miss your family?”

Sayomi blinked at the man in surprise, both at the question and the fact that he had initiated a conversation.

She contemplated whether she should tell the truth or cover it up with a lie. Deciding that a lie would take more effort, she settled for the truth. “I’ve been in the assassin business for 6 years now, so I wouldn’t say too young… I do miss my little brother though. Do you miss your family?”

As the man appeared to be deep in thought, Sayomi mulled over her words. My little brother… Killua, are they treating you alright?

“My apologies for assuming. And, yes, I do indeed miss my family. But, why haven’t you escaped yet, then? With no leverage against you, you could easily run away at any time.” The man spoke while looking at her this time. 

She thought about his question. “I guess… well, I don’t really have anywhere else to go. It’s my first time in Yorknew City, and I wouldn’t want to go back home to the people that left me in the first place.”

He let out a hmm at her response, obviously putting the pieces of her situation together. “If I told you of a way you could live here in Yorknew without being trapped under the mafia… would you oblige?” 

His eyes were soft and earnest. He knew what it was like to remain helpless at the hands of the Mafia, and saw no reason she should as well, especially at such a young age.

Sayomi’s expression formed one of shock and surprise, obviously taken aback by the man’s sincerity to help.

“I suppose I would… but if you know of a way out, why haven’t you left yet?” The two were now holding eye contact as if to read the other’s intentions. 

“I’m afraid I’ve already received too much from the Mafia. I owe my life as well as my family’s safety to them.” He responded somberly.

Sayomi nodded silently, understanding the man’s situation. She decided to at least take a listen to the plan he had to offer. “So, you know of a way I can live in Yorknew without the Mafia breathing over my shoulder?”

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes, and the man could sense it as something between the recklessness of a teenager and the confidence of a powerful assassin. She has no fears. I wonder how much she’s experienced to be this strong at such a young age.

“Ah, yes. Sticking with the Mafia will never do you any good. There’s a way of living here in Yorknew City if you’re especially confident in your fighting abilities. It’s called Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi raised her eyebrows at the man’s words, curious. Heaven’s Arena? Sounds like some shoddy place where people bet on fights.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention. So, what does one do at Heaven’s Arena?” Sayomi asked.

The man cracked a ghost of a smile at her interest. “You fight. From what I’ve heard, it’s set up in multiple floors, and each time you win they let you advance to higher floors. I’m pretty sure the pay goes up with each floor as well.”

Sayomi was impressed. A place where they pay you to fight? Count me in.

“I wonder what the catch is though… if it’s as easy as you say, wouldn’t everyone be taking their chances at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man hummed in agreement with her words. “You’re right. The most I’ve heard is that once you reach a certain point, the matches become a fight to the death, and through any means possible. I’m guessing that’s where most people falter- it’s either life or death matches that’ll provide you with a stable income, or small fights once in a while that pay very little. Only the strongest find what they’re looking for at Heaven’s Arena.”

Gambling with your life in order to pay the bills… 

“And you think I could make it at Heaven’s Arena?”

The man looked down at Sayomi with a fatherly gaze. “I don’t think you’re the type of person to need someone else’s approval. But to answer your question, yes, I think with the right amount of training you could find a new life with Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi smiled at his judgement of her character. “Well, then that does it. I just need to find my way out of the Mafia’s grasp, and then I can get to training.”

☾v.

Sayomi’s shift was over before she knew it. Just as the pair before them had said, their VIP client had no one after him. 

Her partner had told her all he knew about Heaven’s Arena and the Mafia from his many years working in Yorknew City. 

She had learned that there were members of the Mafia hidden within the assassin recruits, keeping anyone from sneaking away. Her escape would have to be well planned out to avoid getting caught along with any consequences.

Tagging out with the next pair of bodyguards, Sayomi head back to her room once again.

2 days later

VIP Adachi Yuto’s stay came to an end, with it marking the end of Sayomi’s first job. The team was dissolved as a result, and Sayomi was dispatched by her section leader to meet with him down at the lobby.

The section leader turned out to be the man who had first brought her to Yorknew City, a familiar face that relaxed Sayomi’s nerves a great amount.

Upon meeting, he was immediately down to business, letting Sayomi know of her next assignment. 

It was an assassin’s job.

She had originally planned to find a way out of the Mafia’s scope soon, but with the mention of her finally getting some action, the plan was postponed. 

Her target was a man in his 30s. No other information was given to her besides a photo and his location. 

Not much to her surprise, an ankle monitor was situated around her right leg, keeping her from straying from the job.

Damn you, bloodlust. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to ditch the cold blood and murder mother and father drilled into my head.

Sayomi was falling victim to her old habits. She knew it was wrong to stick around any longer, but the consequences of the offer to satisfy her thirst for blood didn’t sink in until the cool metal of her ankle monitor pressed into her skin.

The man seemed to read Sayomi’s thoughts as she realized her mistake. “The ankle monitor is programmed to shock the user upon our command. It’s enough power to deal sufficient damage to even the largest of animals, so I insist you remain focused on the missions we give you. We never enjoy having to resort to using it, but keep in mind that we will not hesitate to, given a reason.”

She looked down at her ankle in defeat. It seemed Heaven’s Arena would have to wait.

☾v.

Later that night

Sayomi paced anxiously about in her hotel room. It was a mix of long-overdue bloodlust and hatred towards herself as a result of her assassin’s instinct to kill.

Deep inside her head, a war of conflicting feelings raged on.

Calm down, Sayomi. Every time you do this it’s only proving that mother succeeded in sculpting you into her little assassin. 

She had completely thrown away a perfect chance to escape just because she couldn’t control her impulses to kill in cold blood. 

But is it that wrong to want to kill? Being an assassin doesn’t mean I’ll be exactly like mother. I can control my own future now, I am my own person.

Setting her katana down against the wall, she opted for her needles instead. It had been a while since she’d used the smaller weapons because they reminded her of the past.

Now putting the past behind her, Sayomi walked with a new air of confidence. It was her greatest skill and job to kill, she’d decided. And this was a decision she had come to on her own, a new mindset for a new beginning.

A static-ridden dispatch over her walkie talkie marked the beginning of her assignment, and Sayomi headed down to the lobby. 

Since she was still underage, a driver was provided to her, stationed in front of the hotel with her designated license plate.

The brisk night air greeted Sayomi as she exited the hotel. It was currently a few minutes past 12, the streets being mostly empty except for the young city goers enjoying the nightlife in Yorknew City.

Exhaling out an envious sigh at the stunning city lights surrounding her, Sayomi watched her breath disappear into the night as she walked briskly to the car.

The drive to her target’s location was silent. Sayomi sat alone in the back seat, watching with empty eyes as friends, lovers, and complete strangers came together in harmony within the lively city.  

She started to wonder what it would be like to live a normal life like them. What would she be doing right now? Staying up and texting friends? Going to bed before midnight? 

As the teen sat in the back of a luxurious car going towards her next target to assassinate, she couldn’t help but wish she had a normal life, with friends who cared about her feelings or guy problems instead of waiting for orders on which guy she would kill next.

These are useless thoughts. There’s no turning back now.

The car came to a stop at an intimidatingly tall company building, around the same height as the hotel.

Stretching her limbs as she exited the car, the driver notified Sayomi he would wait for her return in the same spot. 

Thanking the driver for his services, she took quick steps towards the entrance of the building. With her persistently developed speed and underground techniques, sneaking in and out of the building would be no problem.

Taking notice of the lack of security, she rolled her eyes as she let out a breath in annoyance. This is amateur work. 

Activating her zetsu, Sayomi’s menacing purple aura dissipated into thin air as she dashed past the sorry line of security, making her way to a deserted hallway.

There was a lone guard doing rounds with a bright flashlight in hand, failing to notice the slight breeze that Sayomi had left in her path.

Positioning a needle between her fingers, Sayomi flicked her wrist out at lightning speed, sending the needle flying towards the guard. 

It hit home in the guard’s neck, knocking him out instantly. Taking nimble steps towards the fallen guard, Sayomi made quick work of grabbing his access badge before heading to the elevators. 

Seeing as no one else was around, she tabbed an elevator, rocking back and her toes as she waited.

Just as she had expected, the elevator required an access badge, which she tapped against the scanner while pressing on the button for the 38th floor.

In a bored attempt to keep herself preoccupied on the way up, Sayomi spread her band of needles out in her hands. Closing her eyes, she ran a pale hand over the band. 

Her hand came down on a single needle, the needle she would use to finish off her target. Putting the band back into her pocket, she held the single needle between her knuckles, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The elevators chime signified Sayomi’s arrival at the 38th floor. The floor was empty, being past working hours and in between shifts for the security guards.

A single desk lamp shone in her target's office, and Sayomi strolled casually to the partially open door.

She could see from where she approached that her target was busy at work, having stayed overtime. 

Knocking twice on the inside of the open door, Sayomi just barely caught the attention of the man before moving her wrist in a single, fluid motion.

The man had no chance to react, slumping face down onto his desk with a muffled thump.

She had hit the jugular clean and precise, leaving no trail behind of her job besides the now motionless man.

Satisfied with her work, Sayomi returned to the elevators with a skip in her step. A few months without my needles and I’ve still got it!

Greeting her driver with a smile this time around, she didn’t blame him for being utterly confused. 

The job had taken her just under 5 minutes, the majority of the time belonging to the elevator rides up and down from the 38th floor.

Dispatching her section leader of the completed job, Sayomi returned back to the hotel, looking as if she had gone out for an evening stroll.

Her section leader greeted her in the lobby, letting her know she had the remainder of the night off. She frowned slightly at the news, her adrenaline still rushing from the short job. 

An easy target like today always left her wanting more, unsatisfied with the lack of fighting that came with it.

I’m getting all caught up in this again.

Shaking away her thoughts of possibly finding more action, Sayomi returned to her room with slumped shoulders. She forced herself to set her needles back down on her nightstand, finding it hard to keep herself from fiddling with them.

It was late. And though the 51st floor around her seemed to be deep in sleep, Sayomi was restless. 

She decided to wash up and take a quick shower to relax her nerves, changing out of the uniform and into one of the other outfits they had provided her with.

Wrapping her silvery-white hair in a towel, she opted to sit on the floor, gazing out of the floor length window in front of her.

Yorknew City was quieting down, the street vendors having cleaned up for the night, stores being long closed, and clubs starting to die down. The last of the neon signs flickered in the darkness, looking like tiny specks of color from where Sayomi sat, high above most of the buildings bordering the one she was in.

The 16 year old girl sat cross-legged in a trance, no longer focused on the city in front of her, but something within her mind.

What am I gonna do now… I ruined my chances of escaping anytime soon. All because I couldn’t control myself, my old habits. Does this mean mother was successful with her plans?

No. I don’t have to give in to defeat. I’ll find a way out, just like how I got out of Meteor City. Maybe if I gain their trust they’ll take this ankle monitor off. 

I just have to become one of their obedient assassins, quiet and reliable. 

Sayomi fell asleep slouched on the rough carpeted floor that night, lost in her own thoughts and emotions.

But despite the uncomfortable position, her face proved differently. She was only ever at peace when she was fast asleep, because that’s when she could see her loved ones within dreams.

Illumi, Killua… Are you two taking good care of each other? Are you doing better than I am? 

Do you guys even miss me? 

I miss you two so much I feel like I could die. 

☾v.

to be continued.

a/n: taglist open!

[bbq-hawks-wings]

I can't believe I didn't think the todo/endev stuff would've been divisive. Like if you don't like it then that's it, you just personally don't want to see it, that's valid, but then you have some ppl calling ppl who do like it and even hori abuse apologists (despite some of them being survivors themselves) but THen you have ppl on the other side insulting those who can't stomach it and, why is this all a thing.

CW/ abuse mention

I'm not all that surprised it stirs up such intense reactions. Unlike saving the world or becoming a hero, the struggle of a household and each of its members healing from a horribly abusive past, complete with all its uncomfortable, different, ugly blistering wounds and scars is way too close to home for a lot of people. Even for those who may have never experienced the same "severity" (in quotes because comparing trauma to silence or talk over victims of any kind is not okay - different forms of abuse is still abuse that leaves lasting impacts and effects everyone differently) they can feel personally connected to that pain.

I'm not surprised whatsoever that Endeavor is such a controversial figure. I would argue that's a good thing. If we come to love his character after lots of growth it's because he's really changed in the ways he's needed to and continuing on that road. If we can't ever get past what he did it's still justified because he's legitimately left the lives of his entire household in shambles - a home full of people who his chief responsibility was to love, provide for, and protect - who will carry the scars (some literal) of what he's done for the rest of their lives.

What surprised me most, however, is how Dabi became to be such a chief spokesperson for the entire family despite being the most removed as far as attitudes towards Endeavor and his actions in response; and how he became the only "valid" victim for so many.

I absolutely pity what he went through. He was absolutely right to feel abandoned. He was abused as much as anyone in that household. His trauma was just as real, just as impactful, and just as valid as the rest. All of his childhood trauma was a result of his father's actions of which Endeavor does need to face and account for. Even his desire to lash out at the objects of his father's affection - his mother and siblings - as a child as a way in his mind to make the pain stop and regain what he legitimately needed in his father's attention and affection is understandable given the circumstances. He's very much damaged, and the onset of that damage is not his fault. He desperately needed help he never got.

But here's where the split happens: at a point he was removed from his family and their influence and became his own person at which point he decided to step on the gas and purposely cause collateral damage on top of the self-destruction.

To be clear, simply leaving that harmful environment and growing up does not erase the damage it caused. PTSD would not be a thing of that was the case. However, Dabi is in one of two states given his behavior: he's genuinely insane (mentally ill to point he doesn't recognize what he's doing - a justified legal defense of insanity) or he's at least lucid enough to know and purposely chose to inflict harm on others because of whatever benefit he feels he gets from it (not able to plead insanity).

Either way, he's a clear danger to himself and others and needs to be reigned in. If he's not in full control of his faculties he needs professional help and has to be taken into custody for everyone's safety. If he is all there, it's right for him to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law because trauma does not excuse making more victims of any kind.

And for some reason, despite these facts well being able to coexist, the fandom doesn't seem to accept that - at least not uniformly and the disparity of opinion is night and day. We have real life examples of people who went through traumatic childhoods who became serial killers, and we don't disagree that they needed to be institutionalized or prosecuted for the safety of the public and their survivors; but Dabi gets a pass somehow?

Perhaps the main divide comes down to some can't/don't/won't make a distinction between Touya the abuse victim and Dabi the abuser. Both can and do exist in the same person, but the focus of his life's goal has shifted to be distinct enough to make that distinction as the audience. As a child, he was a victim who was doing everything he could think to do to get what he needed in a horrible situation. As an adult with ample degree of rational thought and self-awareness, he leverages his damage to justify the homicide he commits against his own victims.

And this especially is why I have pity for Touya, but not for Dabi.

I knew someone who did that - who did that to me. Someone who I considered a friend, even "family" until I set boundaries and started acting contrary to what they wanted when it was like a switch went off inside them. They had a legitimately terrible upbringing and a questionable family situation, at best; but that didn't mean I had to suffer the effects those negative influences splashed into my life.

If something I did made them upset and what they only ever knew was to verbally express, "You're lucky I have the control to hit the wall instead of you when I get this upset" that anger is valid, but I was also right to say, "If this is a problem, I'll do what I can to make it right on my end, but you do not have the right to threaten me, emotionally manipulate me, or lash out in retaliation - and especially not without consequences or pushback. You need help, and I want to help you help yourself; but that was not acceptable. I am responsible for me and what I do, not for how you take things and respond."

It boils my blood thinking back how often they tried to peddle back and make me the bad guy in my own head by trying to guilt me with their own tragic backstory so I'd stay complicit. Clearly, I'm still not completely over it, and I was unpleasantly reminded of it not long ago when nightmares with their face came back to haunt me for the first time in years after just seeing their name again in passing earlier that day. It took a complete stranger I met at a house party telling me after I spilled my guts late into the night for me to even begin to recognize that I was being manipulated and abused.

So yeah, there it is yet again - the Todofam drama is way too close to home for too many people. The worst tragedy in that, though, is that no one can apparently be validated in their opinions unless they bare themselves like I did just now. That shouldn't be the case. These discussions should be able to exist as hypotheticals and discussing canon events instead of requiring everyone who wants to weigh in to have their own trauma validated.

It's easy to pile onto Endeavor because he's the clear "bad guy" in the scenario who will never be able to erase what he's done even if all of his family magically forgave him and he turned into the patron saint of puppies and kittens. But for some reason it's not easy to recognize people can feel the same way about Dabi who can recognize him for being both victim and victimizer.

I wish it wasn't the case. There's a lot of right and wrong and stuff that isn't wrong - just uncomfortable and sucky in this subplot; but fandom is too stuck on insisting in an all or nothing bad guy/good guy to fully appreciate the nuance in this plotline.

[allsassnoclass]

hi hazel!! how about “i got you for secret santa so i got you this really expensive but sentimental gift that you’ve always wanted, hoping you’ll never find out it’s from me - and that i’ve been in love with you 1234567 years” with hmmmm mashton? maybe? feels mashton-y to me but whatever u think works best is good with me <3 love you <3

anything for you Iba <3

Ficmas day 10

Rating: T for language

Read on AO3

Getting Ashton for Secret Santa is both a blessing and a curse: a blessing because Michael already knows what he wants to give him, a curse because he wants to give him the world.  Well, more accurately he wants to give him the entire universe.

Ashton Irwin is arguably the universe’s finest creation, founded on stardust and made up of infinite galaxies.  Michael has been in love with him since around the time they met.  Ashton deserves something as wonderful and celestial as himself, but that would require Michael to suddenly develop the ability to trap the universe in the palm of his hands, cradled close until he could hand it off to someone worthy enough to hold it.  Even if he could, the universe seems like a fragile thing.  He’d probably drop it, knowing him.

Maybe getting Ashton was more of a curse than a blessing.  If he can’t give him some sort of celestial body, he’s out of ideas.  It’s probably for the best, because he’s not exactly keen on letting Ashton know that he’s been in love with him for so long, and you can’t give someone the entire universe without prompting a few questions.

He seeks out Calum for advice, because Calum is great at gifts, but he doesn’t want him to know who he got so he asks what he would give Luke instead.

It turns out Calum is so great at gifts because he knows exactly what each person needs.  Knowing what Luke needs does nothing to help Michael figure out what to get Ashton.

Michael spends a lot of time googling stuff like good gifts for friends and good gifts for crushes and then backtracks, because most of those imply that he would be revealing his crush.  The search for good gifts for someone you’re in love with who is also one of your best friends WITHOUT letting them know you love them but still the best present yields no useful results.  Michael doesn’t want to regurgitate generic “sentimental” gifts suggested in lists on various websites, he wants something that Ashton will truly appreciate.  He wants to get him something that only someone who knows him would give him.

He’s pretty sure buying presents isn’t supposed to make you want to pull out all of your hair, but Michael wants to pull out all of his hair.  The one solace is that they selected their people early, so he still has a lot of time to figure out a suitable present.

-/-

Michael mostly forgets about the stresses of Secret Santa for a while.  He has to get presents for other people, too, so he focuses on that, and decorating the house, and baking some Christmas cookies, and everything except Ashton’s present.  Unfortunately, this means that by the time Ashton hosts his yearly It’s a Wonderful Life watch party, it’s late enough that Michael should start panicking a little.

Each year, Ashton invites as many friends as can fit in his basement over to watch his favorite Christmas movie.  He used to watch it with his mom every year, and even though they live physically far apart he once told Michael that it makes him feel closer to her.  Over the years, the night has turned into an entire event.  Ashton sets up a projector and prepares more snacks than can be eaten.  Michael attends every year, even though the movie seems to get longer every time he watches it.  Last year he kept dozing off, enough so that Ashton had let him curl on the couch with his head in his lap and sleep for most of the second half.  The weight of Ashton’s hand resting on his shoulder and the occasional gentle fingers brushing over his hair are something Michael thinks about often.

This year he ends up in an armchair, Luke between his legs on the floor and Ashton all the way on the other side of the room.  It makes him focus on the movie a bit more, and during the scene where George asks what Mary wants and says he’ll lasso the moon Michael thinks yeah dude, you get it.

Unfortunately he is not George and Ashton is not Mary, and by the time he leaves his house that night, lingering late enough that Ashton offers to let him stay, he is no closer to figuring out his gift.

-/-

Michael can’t lasso the moon, but maybe he was onto something there.

He can’t stop thinking about space.  Ashton has always had an appreciation for it, but since his trip to the desert where he was finally able to see the Milky Way unobstructed he’s developed a new fascination with it.  He’s not going to be an astronomer, but he knows more about constellations than Michael does, and he knows a lot about astrology even if he doesn’t fully believe in it.

Michael has wanted to give him the universe this entire time.  Maybe instead of finding a different present, he should focus on figuring out a way to do that.

Maybe he should just get Ashton one of those model solar system kits that kids assemble for science projects.  That would be giving him the universe in a punny way that he might appreciate, but then he’ll have to explain that give you the universe was his original goal, which will still prompt questions.  Without that sentiment, it’s kind of a crummy gift.

He needs something that isn’t punny but that manages to accomplish his goal without revealing that he’s in love.  He’ll find a way to accomplish that out of sheer stubbornness if he has to.

-/-

Schedules don’t properly align for a full group Secret Santa exchange, so everyone is tasked with contacting their present recipient and setting up a time to give them their gift.  Michael sends Ashton a text that reads hey when do you want your secret santa present and gets a string of emojis in response.  Eventually he manages to wrangle a time from him and loads the present into his car.

It’s a decent gift, in his opinion.  He’s both relieved and nervous about having to give it to Ashton without the full group, because there’s significantly less people who can judge him but there’s significantly more opportunity for Ashton to ask uncomfortable questions.

The drive feels longer than it should.  That doesn’t bode well.

Michael lets himself in once he gets to the house, because there’s no telling where inside Ashton might be.  He calls his name and gets an answer in the direction of the bedroom, toeing off his shoes and getting rid of his coat before setting off towards his destination.  Ashton is sitting on the bed, scribbling something furiously in a journal.  Michael waits until he’s done and tosses the small leather book aside to fully enter the space.

“Hi,” Ashton says, beaming.

“Hi,” Michael says.  “Special delivery.”

The package in his hands is rectangular and flat, covered with shiny red and green paper.  Ashton eyes it curiously, taking it when offered and frowning at the weight.

“There’s a few parts, so be careful,” Michael says.

“I will.”

Ashton tears through the paper inelegantly, strips of it floating down to the floor, and Michael watches him read the framed certificate on top.

“I got you a star,” Michael says.  “That’s the certificate for it, and it’s under your name in a database.  There’s a star map, so you can try to find it the next time you have a clear sky.”

“Michael, this is amazing,” Ashton says, aglow with enthusiasm.  “This is so fucking cool!”

He looks at the star map, eyes tracking over the many tiny dots on it and the one circled that’s his.

“Wow.  My very own star.”

It wasn't quite the whole universe or lassoing the moon, but Michael thinks he did alright given the circumstances.

The next frame is a bit bigger, a blue background with a white star chart and lettering at the bottom that reads July 7, 1994 - a star is born.

“Tell me something, boy,” Ashton croons.  “Which one of us is Lady Gaga and which one of us is Bradley Cooper?”

“Neither of us,” Michael sighs.  He wants to facepalm.  He knew this was a risk when he put that inscription.  “Did you even watch that movie?  You want us to end up like them?”

“No,” Ashton says.

“You’re the star,” Michael says.  “It’s a map of the sky when you were born.  I thought it was a fitting caption.”

“Aw,” Ashton says.  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You don’t have to make fun,” Michael says, embarrassment flaring inside him.  This was a last-minute decision off one of those generic lists, and he’s regretting it.  Getting teased for his crush was not something he anticipated nor wanted today, especially since Ashton should know better.

“I’m not making fun,” Ashton says, tearing his eyes away from the chart to look up at Michael and frown.  “You just compared me to an actual celestial body.  That’s really fucking sweet.  The only thing sweeter would be if someone wrote me a proper love song.”

Michael could try his hand at that.

He shrugs.

“It’s almost romantic,” Ashton says.  Michael’s breath freezes in his chest.  Ashton puts the gifts down on his bed and shifts so he can face Michael fully, eyes assessing.

“Do you have feelings for me?” he asks.

Brush it off, Michael tells himself.  Laugh and call him bro and say you don’t.

There seems to be a communication delay between his mind and his body, because Michael doesn’t do any of those things.  He stands there like a deer in headlights, paralyzed the longer Ashton looks at him.

“It’s okay if you do,” Ashton says.  “I just want to know.”

Well what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?

No!

What comes out sounds more like a choking cat.

“Okay,” Ashton says.  “You want to sit down?”

Again the answer is no, but that word seems to have left his vocabulary, so he sinks onto the bed next to Ashton.  He reaches out a gentle hand and places it on his forearm.

“You know, you not saying anything is making me nervous, but I’m just going to keep going.  You can tell me to stop at any time,” Ashton says.  “I like you, and I’ve been getting the impression that you like me, too.  If that’s wrong, then correct me, but if that’s right then you don’t have to be embarrassed or upset, because it’s mutual.”

Michael turns the words over in his head, giving them a second perusal to ensure he had heard correctly.

“What?”

“Oh, he speaks,” Ashton says dryly.

“I was not picking up any vibes from you,” Michael says.  “Now you expect me to believe you like me?”

“Well it’s not like I wanted you to know,” Ashton says.  “Seriously, do you think I let anyone sleep through It’s a Wonderful Life?  You got lucky last year because I like you.”

Now that he thinks about it, Ashton might have a point.  Other people who doze off get food thrown at them with the excuse that they should have stayed home if they were planning on sleeping.

“Huh,” Michael says.

“So,” Ashton says, “do you like me?  You never actually confirmed it.”

“Oh.  Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Look, I’m processing a lot right now.  I bought you a fucking star, Ashton.  Use your context clues.”

“Use my context clues?  What are you, my literature teacher?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

Nice.  That was smooth.

Ashton smiles.  Just like that, the bridge Michael was standing on made of their banter melts into a gooey mess, dropping him into a bunch of sappy feelings below.  He could bask in that smile forever, shining brighter than all of the stars in the sky.

“That sounds good to me,” Ashton says.  Michael smiles shyly back, something that makes Ashton’s eyes crinkle at the edges.  He reaches out and squeezes his hand, something he’s going to be able to do freely now, and Ashton tangles their fingers together.

All things considered, Michael thinks he one-upped George Bailey here.  George said he was going to lasso the moon and then didn’t even do that.  Michael bought Ashton a whole fucking star and got his own star in return.  He’s probably the luckiest man in the universe.