#been struggling with some pain lately that’s made working on it rather difficult

[feliciadraws]

🐟 f i e s c h e 🐟

[lewmagoo]

try a little tenderness | rhett abbott

description: in which you take care of each other in different ways

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, slight angst, very brief mention of religious trauma, rhett's childhood trauma, smut, dom/sub undertones, rhett is a switch, mention of kink play, oral (m receiving), deep throating, cum swallowing

notes: just a self-indulgent little somethin'-somethin' with some holiday vibes to go along with it. hope y'all enjoy

You were barely holding it together. 

The rain that poured from the dreary sky seemed to encapsulate your mood as you made your way home from work that evening. It was mid-November, and the weather was just beginning to make its shift into winter. 

On your little homestead, you and your husband had been battening down the hatches, preparing the house and the surrounding property for the onslaught of frigid temperatures and snow storms that were sure to blow in over the next few weeks. 

Wyoming winters were long and hard. But somehow, you didn’t mind them that much. Not when you had your little farmhouse to snuggle into on days when the weather got bad. You’d moved into the house when you and Rhett had first gotten married. Although it was a house that had been in your family for years, it was a fixer-upper, and everyone had told you that you were wasting your money. But the two of you were determined to make a home out of it. And you had. It was a safe haven for both of you. 

And now, you were running to it, seeking refuge in its warmth, and in the comfort of your husband’s arms, because he was what made it a home. 

They say home is where the heart is. He was your heart. 

He was so much steadier than you were. At the moment, you felt incredibly fragile. As if a gust of cold wind would shatter you into millions of tiny pieces and leave Rhett to have to pick up those pieces and painstakingly glue you back together. 

You’d been trying, but failing, to hold in your tears the entire thirty-minute drive home. You couldn’t even bring yourself to turn on your driving playlist to occupy the silence, you were simply too overwhelmed and needed the peace and quiet. 

All you could think about was how deeply you longed to be in Rhett’s comforting embrace. He was the only one who could console you when you were like this. And he loved being that for you. Knowing he was your source of comfort above all others made him feel special. It made him feel needed. 

It was him you depended on. Him you allowed to see you at your most vulnerable. He cherished those moments. Even though it pained him to see you suffering, it brought him some semblance of peace to know that he was providing you comfort. 

He knew that things had been difficult for you as of late. You were at a crossroads in your life, forced to make some hard decisions that had been weighing heavily on you. You’d spent countless hours agonizing over them. 

Sometimes, it felt as if your only easy choice in life had been choosing to marry Rhett. You’d known beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. He was good. He was kind. And he loved you. Did he come with his fair share of struggles? Absolutely. But that was what made him human. All the things he had been through had shaped him into the perfect man for you.  

You had both gone through hell to get to each other. Your souls were bonded together, forged in the fires of great tribulation. But you were stronger together because of it. 

You had built a life together. One of peace and security, far away from those who had wronged you. Rhett had distanced himself from his family. He only kept in contact with his mother and his niece. 

Gone were the days of walking on eggshells, trying to avoid knock-down drag-out arguments with his brother. He didn’t have to use that sort of caution with you, because you never treated him that way. He’d learned how to communicate his feelings, rather than fight about them. There were never screaming matches within the walls of your home. Never a raised voice. Never a harmful hand laid upon the other. 

It was a place of solace. And that was why you were running to it. 

As you pulled into the driveway, the rain gave way as the first flakes of November snow began to swirl from the sky. Normally, you would stop to admire them, but you hardly even noticed the white flurries as you pulled into the carport next to the house. 

Your eyes were blurring with hot tears, and all you wanted was to get inside, to find Rhett and fall into his arms. But as you climbed out of the car, the strap of your bag got caught on the gearshift. You didn’t notice until it was too late, and in a very dramatic turn of events, the force of the catch was enough to send you stumbling. On the way down, your ribs clashed with the bottom edge of your car, sending sharp pain blossoming through your torso. 

You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut as you breathed through the ache. Meanwhile, Rhett was inside the house, having just seen the flash of your headlights in the window, signaling that you’d arrived home. Eagerly, he headed to the kitchen, with the intent of making dinner, because it was his night to do so. He was making grilled cheese, the one thing he had finally mastered in the kitchen, and he wanted it to be nice and hot for you, so he’d waited until that moment to begin preparing dinner. 

But as he set to work, he noticed that it was taking you a while to come inside. Curious, he glanced out the window that overlooked the carport, and to his surprise, he saw you on the ground next to your car. 

His jovial mood dissipated, replaced with concern. Without hesitation, he hurried to the door, where he shoved his feet into his worn, old boots and then wrenched the door open. 

“Darlin’?” He called out, as he stepped outside, boots crunching on gravel. Quickly, he rounded your car, which gave him a full view of you crumpled on the ground, crying. Immediately, he was rushing to your aid. “What happened?! Are y’alright?”

He knelt beside you, wide-eyed, searching your body for any signs of outward harm. His protective instincts had kicked in.

“I-I fell,” you managed to whimper out. Honestly, it wasn’t even the fact that you’d fallen that kept you on the ground. It was the fact that you were entirely depleted of physical and emotional strength, and once you’d hit the ground, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand back up. 

“Are ya hurt?” That was his biggest concern. He’d drive you to the hospital if he had to. 

Your bottom lip wobbled as a fresh wave of tears poured down your weather-cooled cheeks. “A-a little,” came your response. You knew that your ribs were going to bruise. 

“Hospital hurt?”

“No.”

Rhett nodded, relaxing a little. “Alright. I’ll help ya up. Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”

Lovingly, he helped you to your feet, securing his arm around your waist, and grabbing your bag from the car before he led you into the house. The warmth washed over you immediately. You hadn’t realized how cold you were, but the slight tingle in your fingertips told you that you had certainly gotten a chill from outside. 

Rhett closed the door behind you, effectively shutting out the cold. You stood there in the entryway, unmoving as you felt another wave of tears overcome you. Your husband hadn’t noticed yet, as he was taking off his boots, but when he stood up, he saw you frozen in place. 

“What’s the matter, pun’kin?” He asked. His pronunciation of pumpkin, the sweet nickname he’d given you years ago when you were still dating. 

His gentle concern was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Immediately, you turned, surging forward into his arms. It caught him by surprise, but he quickly recovered, wrapping you up in his embrace. You melted into a fit of sobs, burying your face against his broad chest. 

“Hey now, I’ve got’ya. Ain’t never gonna let you go.”

His assurance only made you cry harder. You loved him so much. He was so good to you. 

His hand, large and warm, came up to cradle the back of your head, and he slowly rocked from side to side, soothing you with a quiet “shh” as he let you cry. He didn’t inundate you with questions, although he did want to know what had you weeping so brokenly in his arms. It made his heart ache. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood there in the entryway. It could’ve been a few minutes. It could’ve been a whole hour. But the comfort his embrace brought you was welcome. It calmed you down considerably. 

After a while, you finally pulled back, lifting your face from his now tear-soaked shirt. His expression was soft, his lashes fluttering as he lifted his hand to dry what was left of your tears. 

“Somebody make you cry?” He asked. He’d give them what-for if they had. 

“I-it’s just…oh, it’s everything,” you whimpered. “Work sucked today, I felt like I was in fuckin’ purgatory. I don’t…I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

Rhett sighed softly. Seeing you in pain made him feel so powerless. While he knew that he was providing you comfort, he still wished he could take all the hurt away. You didn’t deserve any of it. “I’m sorry.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead. 

And then, “Let me take care of ya. ‘ve already got dinner started. How does a bath sound? I’ll get ya set up and then finish dinner so you can eat.”

“Good,” you whispered, as if you couldn’t find the strength to speak louder.

With a nod, Rhett set to work. “C’mon, let’s get you out of all these layers.”

He began carefully undoing your coat, which he removed from your body and promptly hung on the little coat rack by the door. Then he pulled your hat off your head and placed it on the pegboard that also housed different sets of keys. 

He guided you to sit down on the bench near the shoe organizer, and there, he knelt before you, unlacing your boots. You watched him so tenderly, so reverently, care for you, and again, you felt yourself welling up with tears. 

You hadn’t retained much from the time you’d spent growing up in church, aside from some trauma and a distaste for religion. But one Bible verse in particular popped into your head as you watched your husband remove your shoes. Most men will proclaim every one his own goodness: But a faithful man who can find?

Rhett never asked for anything. He never bragged about himself or his accomplishments. He was good and kind. A little rough around the edges, but he treated you like royalty, and respected you deeply. He was faithful to you, and to the homestead you had built together. He didn’t wander. He didn’t seek intimacy in the arms of another. He was anchored to you, for better or worse. 

And now he was guiding you up the stairs and to the bedroom, his arm secure around your waist, part of him always touching you. Grounding you. He guided you to sit on the bed, leaving a kiss against the top of your head before he sauntered over to the dresser to choose some pajamas for you. 

You were in a haze, brought on by the rush of emotions you had experienced. Sleepy from crying, frazzled from your stress. You were lucky that Rhett was there to help you, because you felt so pathetic and incapable of caring for yourself in this state. You could manage alone if you had to, but you didn’t have to. As long as your husband was around, you’d never have to worry about being alone. 

“You want to wear these, or these?” He asked, holding up a set of Christmas pajamas that were your own, and a pair of sweatpants and one of his Henleys. 

Of course, you chose the sweats and his shirt, because you wanted to be entirely surrounded by everything that was him. 

With your pajamas picked out, he guided you to the bathroom, where he had you sit upon the closed toilet seat while he began filling the tub, making sure the water was the perfect temperature. In the process, he grabbed the little space heater you kept in the bedroom, and he set it up in the corner of the bathroom, to warm up the cold tiles so you wouldn’t catch a chill. 

You smiled fondly at his attentiveness. “I love you,” you spoke. 

He paused, his face softening, his eyes fluttering. “And I love you, pun’kin.” He kissed the top of your head before he motioned for you to stand. There, he began undressing you, and you allowed him to, because you didn’t have the energy to do it yourself. 

After the bath was filled, and the bubbles were in, he guided you into the water. “I’m gonna’ go finish makin’ us dinner, alright?”

But you frowned at that. “No, wan’ you to get in with me.”

“And I’d love to get in with ya, but you haven’t eaten anything since your lunch break, right?”

Sheepishly, you nodded. “Since 11:30 actually.”

“Uh-huh, exactly. That’s why I’m feedin’ you dinner. Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ my baby starve.” Another kiss was left upon your head. “Just relax and enjoy your bath. I’ll be back in a few to help ya get dressed. Then we can eat.”

That piqued your interest. “Can we watch a holiday movie?” You asked. 

He hummed, a twinkle in his eye. “‘course we can, sweet thing.”

As he turned to leave, you spoke up. “Hey, Rhett?”

In the doorway, he turned. “Hm?”

“Thank you for takin’ care of me.”

He shook his head. “That ain’t somethin’ you need to thank me for. Carin’ for you is my job, and I’m always gonna do it.”

What a man he was. Once he left the room, you found yourself reflecting upon how blessed you were to have him. When you’d first met him, he was a broken man with so much love to give, but no one to bestow it upon, except for his niece. But she wasn’t his child, so he found himself holding back, because even though he didn’t agree with the way his brother parented her, he didn’t want to overstep. 

Of course, he would’ve made a better father to Amy than Perry ever could. But that was neither here nor there. Now, Rhett barely spoke to his brother. For his own well-being, he’d cut ties with Royal and Perry. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he was better now because of it. 

There were behaviors he’d worked hard to unlearn after he entered into a relationship with you. Trouble communicating and processing his emotions was the most glaring issue. Those first few years together were no picnic. You had argued often. All you asked for was for him to be open and honest with you. He bucked against it like an untamed horse. The thought of being exposed and vulnerable in that way terrified him. 

He didn’t want you to see the wounded, ugly parts of him. Didn’t want you to see him cry, because his father had drilled into his head that showing emotion was feminine. Men don’t cry, he’d tell his son. It was simply because he didn’t want to deal with Rhett’s emotional nature. 

Rhett, who had always been a sensitive soul, learned to hide that sensitivity early on. Don’t cry, for fear of being told “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about.”

In recent years, since Amy was born, Royal had softened a bit. But he was still just as hard on his youngest son. Rhett was the workhorse. The dependable one. The one who would grit his teeth and get the job done without complaining. 

And God forbid if he tried to complain. Royal wasn’t one for physical violence, it just wasn’t in his nature. But when Rhett was seventeen years old, he’d gotten fed up with the verbal lashing from his father. It was the first time he’d really tried to stand up for himself and tell Royal to shove it, in not-so-delicate terms. But it hadn’t ended well. Royal had backhanded Rhett so hard he saw stars, and ended up with a bloody lip. 

The man had felt bad about his reaction, but the thing about Royal Abbott was, he didn’t apologize. It wasn’t in his nature. Rhett couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever heard ‘I’m sorry’ come out of his father’s mouth. 

That moment was what made Rhett realize he couldn’t stay in such a toxic environment. He longed to leave the confines of the Abbott Ranch behind and pave his own way. But that was easier said than done. A sense of responsibility to his family kept him chained down to Wabang. He seemed to be destined to spend the rest of his days as a bull rider, living in his father’s shadow, busting his ass and receiving nothing in return. 

And then he met you. 

You made him believe there was more to life. You made him believe he could chase his dreams and achieve them. You made him believe in himself. 

He had learned so much from you. And through you, he had found freedom. You were the first person, aside from Amy, who’d ever truly believed in him. And here he’d spend the better part of ten years pining after a girl named Maria, who had never and would never return his affection 

He remembered being so glad when she returned to town after being at college for the last few years. He thought maybe things would be different. Maybe she would see him for who he was and finally reciprocate his feelings. 

But all she’d done was string him along and make him feel like shit for never leaving Wabang. In the end, she lost any interest she might’ve had in Rhett, leaving him dejected. 

And then you showed up. You were new in town. Your grandparents had just bought a new house in Florida, but still had yet to successfully sell their ranch. While they transitioned to a new house in a new state, they asked you if you would be willing to stay at their place until it sold. Dissatisfied with your current job and living situation, you agreed. 

Soon, you found yourself in an unfamiliar town in Wyoming, the last place you ever thought you’d be. You got a job through Amelia Elementary School, teaching piano. One of your students was Amy Abbott, and this was how you met her uncle, Rhett. 

You should have known it from the second you saw him. He appeared rough and tumble, but when he introduced himself to you, his eyes, bright and blue, were soft, and you swore you saw the hint of a blush in the apples of his cheeks. 

That was what did you in. There was a softness to him that tugged on your heartstrings. You had Amy twice a week for lessons. Rhett picked her up each time, and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him. 

Over the course of the next few months, he swallowed his fear of rejection and worked up the courage to ask you to go for coffee. Rhett wasn’t a fan of the fancy lattes and whatnot that Two Horns Coffee sold in downtown Wabang, but he’d noticed you often had a coffee cup from the place in hand, and he wanted to take you somewhere you liked. 

That was how he found himself seated in a quaint little cafe that totally wasn’t his style, in favor of getting to know you. That day, you talked for hours, until the coffee shop employees were shooing you out because it was closing time. And after that, you walked through the town and continued talking. 

Rhett wasn’t loud or boisterous or pompous. He was quiet and gentle. He was shy, which surprised you. He seemed so confident, but really, it was all a front. Everyone perceived him a certain way. He was the promiscuous bull rider with a new buckle bunny in his bed every night. 

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He admitted to you that he hadn’t slept with anyone since Maria a few months ago, and before her, the last time anyone had been in his bed was the night of his 21st birthday. Some girl he barely knew. 

His family’s perception of his promiscuity stemmed from that instance, where Royal had caught the girl sneaking off early in the morning. Since then, Rhett hadn’t been able to live it down. In the minds of his family, he was the man-whoring problem child. 

Rhett never bothered to correct them, because what was the use?

But when you looked at him, you saw him. The real him. Shy and slightly awkward. Fidgety, unable to sit still. Kind and loving. Determined. 

He liked that. He felt seen and heard with you. He never felt like a burden. And because of this, he found himself drawn to you more and more. Soon enough, a romance blossomed between you. While it had its ups and downs, there was no doubt in each other’s minds that this was it. You were bonded for the rest of your lives. 

Your wedding came not long after. An intimate occasion with your closest friends and family. A beautiful ceremony in the mountains. After that, you moved into the home you’d been staying in since you moved to Wabang. As it turned out, your grandparents’ little ranch never sold, which left you and Rhett to move into it. 

You offered to pay in full for it, but your grandparents wouldn’t hear of it, insisting it was your wedding gift. The house did, however, need a lot of renovations, and that was where a lot of your money went. 

Since then, you had turned the house into everything you’d always dreamed of, and you’d started a wholesome life within its walls. 

Here Rhett was, thinking he needed to leave Wabang. But in reality, it wasn’t his hometown that he needed to distance himself from. Miraculously, his mental well-being increased tenfold when he escaped from beneath Royal’s thumb and started living his own life. 

And that was the thing of it, too. Rhett had a purpose here, on your little ranch. He could cultivate that intrinsic need to take care of things. He could take care of the land. He could take care of the animals. The only animals you had were your horse, Marabel, and Rhett’s horse, Esmeralda. But he had hopes of one day opening a horse sanctuary on your land. 

That was his dream. Not professional bull riding, like he’d spent so long trying to convince himself of. He loved horses, and wanted to do everything he could to help the animals that had always meant so much to him. 

He was working toward making that dream a reality. And someday soon, it would be. 

It was amazing to see the difference in him, since he’d started chasing after what he loved. He was no longer a man chained down to a life he didn’t want. He’d found a sense of freedom, and now, he was happier than he’d ever been. 

Yes, he had you to thank for it. But really, the determination to live a better life came from him. You were simply the one that lit the fire beneath him. Now he was a roaring flame, burning brighter than the sun. 

You were so proud of how far he’d come. And he was proud of himself, too. He had every right to be. 

He’d taken his ranch expertise and found a job at a horse ranch just outside of town. This allowed him to continuously be around the animals that he loved, while also making money. The owner was quite well off, and was paying Rhett handsomely. 

For the first time in his life, he was making a steady income, and he could provide for not only himself, but for you as well. You had your own job, and could hold your own, of course. But Rhett liked knowing he could take care of you. And you appreciated it. Coming from a family who’d never uttered so much as a thank you for all he did, it was refreshing to have someone express their unending gratitude for his care. 

Something as simple as making you grilled cheese for dinner made his heart soar, because after a difficult day, you were depending on him to care and provide for you. And he’d be damned if he was going to let you fend for yourself.

Watching you struggle had been hard for him. He hated seeing you in such a state of unrest. The changing of the seasons didn’t help, either. You were always hit with a bad wave of seasonal depression as soon as the clocks fell back. The early darkness made you sad. 

So Rhett did all he could to help you bear that burden. And tonight, he was determined to help you feel better. While you enjoyed your bath, he set to work finishing up dinner preparations. A little while later, with sandwiches at the ready and the living room set up with blankets and pillows, he rejoined you in the bathroom. 

“Hey, pun’kin. Y’ready?” He asked. 

You smiled sleepily at him. “Mhm.” 

So, he began the process of helping you out of the tub. He toweled you off, and then reverently smoothed your favorite lotion onto your skin. You were in a state of bliss as his large, but gentle, hands traveled over your body. He aided you in changing into your pajamas, and then he pulled a pair of cozy socks onto your feet. 

“C’mon now, let’s go eat ‘fore it gets cold.”

With that, he bent to shut off the space heater before he guided you out of the bathroom and down the stairs. When you walked into the living room, you couldn’t help but smile. He’d spread multiple blankets and pillows across the couch, creating a soft, cozy resting place. The fireplace was roaring, the low lights were on, and when you glanced at the window, you saw the snow was now falling in white sheets, making you feel as if you were inside a snow globe.

“Oh, this is perfect,” you whispered. 

Rhett beamed. “Go on, have a seat. I’ll get ya a drink. What do you want? Coke Zero? Some sweet tea?”

“Tea, please!” You quickly replied. One of the things Rhett could make besides grilled cheese was a mean sweet tea. Not too sweet, with just enough tea flavor that it wasn’t overpowering. It was your favorite. 

“Comin’ right up, chickadee.”

As you settled into the soft blankets on the couch, Rhett hurried to grab drinks for both of you. Soon, he was rejoining you, presenting you with a glass of tea, complete with a straw. You thanked him, and he smiled before he set about selecting a holiday movie. The 1947 version of Miracle on 34th Street was his choice, and soon, you were cuddled up together as the opening credits rolled, enjoying your dinner of grilled cheese. 

And just for a little while, things didn’t seem so bad. The harsh reality of life was dulled if only for a time, softened by the sweet delicateness of this moment shared between you. 

After you finished your food, you curled into Rhett’s side, your head on his shoulder. Content, he rested his cheek atop your head. You knew it was inevitable that he’d fall asleep. With a full tummy, and a cozy couch beneath him, he was sure to doze off. Rhett liked to stay busy, so during moments when he wasn’t, such as sitting down to watch a movie, he would almost always fall asleep. Years of being a workin’ man will do that to a body. 

He expected you to fall asleep, too. You’d had such a difficult day, and he was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night asleep on the couch with you. 

However, you were still wide awake as the movie neared the ending. Instead of drowsiness, you were filled with immense gratefulness. Rhett had come home from a long day of working in the cold, and had prepared you dinner and ran you a bath, simply because you’d had a bad day. He didn’t have to do such things, but he wanted to. 

He didn’t expect you to turn cartwheels and thank him in some dramatic way, but as you lay curled against him, you were struck with an idea. Albeit a mischievous one. 

You shifted, moving to glance at him. He was barely awake, his big, round eyes droopy. But then you began to nuzzle against him, kissing his jaw lightly. At first, he didn’t think anything of it. But then, one of your hands worked its way beneath the hem of his shirt, rubbing at the skin there. 

“Your hands are wanderin’,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“I know,” you replied with a smile. 

“What’re you doin’, girl?” He continued as your hand went toward his chest. 

“Can’t I touch my man?”

“Sure y’can. But with you there’s always some ulterior motive. Little tease.”

He let out the softest of surprised squeaks when you tweaked his nipples, feeling them harden beneath your touch. “Not teasing. Just exploring.” Your lips attached to his jaw again, where you kissed and nipped at the scruffy skin. 

He began to melt beneath you, always a sucker for your loving touch. Your wandering hand trailed down his abdomen, and stopped just above the waistband of his plaid lounge pants. 

“Darlin’…” he warned, as your fingers swirled through the light dusting of hair that led down into his pants. 

“What?” Deft fingers traveled beneath the band of elastic. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which pleased you greatly, and gave you easy access. You brushed against the base of his cock, gripping onto it purposefully. He sucked in a breath, his hips jolting.

“Just wanted to thank you,” you hummed against his neck. “Always take such good care of me. Thought I’d take care of you.” 

You stroked him once. Twice. Palm running over silky skin. You longed to feel him grow in your hand. It was so erotic to you. Holding that thick, beautiful cock of his while it swelled to full hardness. 

“Wanna see it,” you spoke again. 

Rhett lifted his hips off the couch and haphazardly pushed his pants down toward his thighs. That was all you needed. His lower half was exposed, just enough for you to free him from the confines. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you languidly ran your hand up and down, resting your head on his chest as you watched him harden. 

God, you wanted to worship him. So that was what you did. 

You turned, moving to trail kisses down his smooth chest, stopping to leave a kiss against the raised scar that sat upon his shoulder. An unfortunate accident with a bull some years back. 

Then you went lower, lower, lower. Hands exploring, lips traveling. Soon, you were kneeling between his strong thighs, gazing up at him. You tugged his pants the rest of the way down, discarding them entirely so you could have uninhibited access. 

“S’pretty,” you hummed, as you admired him. It took him a moment to realize you were talking about his cock. His cheeks turned a shade of pink. But his bashfulness was soon forgotten when you leaned forward and began kissing along the underside of his shaft, from base to tip, offering tentative kitten licks as you went. 

He watched as you rubbed your cheek against him, nuzzling him as you kissed at his sensitive balls. You wanted to take a moment to truly appreciate what was before you. Standing tall and proud, something Rhett had every right to boast about if he wanted. 

But he didn’t. And that was where you came in, talking him up because you loved the way it rendered him speechless and blushing. 

“So big, I don’t know how it even fits inside me,” you mused. And it was the truth. But he was careful when he fucked you, never wanting to hurt you. Of course, that didn’t mean he was gentle. He had his gentle moments when you needed them, but he also had his moments where he fucked you within an inch of your life. You loved the balance. And you loved that he was mindful of what your body could handle. He’d never push you past your limits. Getting you to safeword was not the end goal. He wanted you to be able to enjoy intense scenes, without being pushed too far to the point where it took you out of the moment. 

Together, you had built a steady trust in each other, with boundaries put in place. Even in the midst of those scenes, you felt safe with Rhett. Protected. Even in the throes of intense passion, he was still looking out for you. 

But sometimes, something simple was all you needed. Like now, for instance. Lazily mouthing at his dick, relishing in the sharp saltiness on your tongue, and the deep muskiness that could only be described as Rhett. There was something so manly about it, and it sent a needy ache thrumming through your core. 

Meanwhile, Rhett was blissed out above you, torn between admiring you between his legs, and letting his head fall back against the couch as he relished in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. Sinful and heavenly all at once. 

After spending time kissing and licking at him, you finally moved to focus on his tip, blushed and glimmering in the low light. Eyes flickering up to meet his hooded gaze, you parted your lips and very slowly began to swirl your tongue around him. Making a show of it, you focused your attention on the slit, tongue flicking back and forth until you were rewarded with a bead of precum, which you eagerly lapped up. 

“Oh, oh darlin’,” he breathed, hands gripping at the blankets beneath him. “You an’ that mouth of yours.”

You hummed around him, closing your lips around the tip and suckling softly before you began inching your way down. Being able to deep-throat him had taken practice. You remembered the way he reacted when you first took all of him. Unbeknownst to him, you’d been using a toy that was roughly the same size as him, training your throat to be able to take him. 

Now you could take him like a champ, and it drove him wild. 

Slowly, slowly, you took more of him, relaxing your throat, until your nose was pressed against the gathering of dark hair around the base. He kept himself neatly groomed, but left just enough behind because he knew how much you loved it. 

“‘at’s it, atta girl,” he graveled, fighting the urge to place his hand atop your head and hold you in place. But he would soon quickly lose that air of dominance to you.

You swallowed around him, which stole the air from his lungs, before you pulled back, kissing at the tip, wet with your spit. As you took a moment to catch your breath, you brought a hand up to toy with his heavy balls. 

“Ha!” He gasped, and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Sensitive?” You asked. 

“Uh-huh,” he answered. “Ain’t had ‘em played with in a while.”

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, mouth still against the soft skin of his cock. “I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I? Haven’t played with these big sensitive balls. Haven’t milked the cum out of them in so long.”

“F-fuck!” You’d taken him all the way to the hilt again without warning. 

It was true. It had been a while. It had been a crazy few weeks for both of you, and you hadn’t had time to really enjoy each other in the way that you wanted. A few quickies here and there hadn’t satisfied that burning desire you held for one another. 

Rhett didn’t like getting off without you. Sometimes, he would, if he was ever out of town or vice versa. But he much preferred being with you. He craved you. Fantasized about you. Wanted only you. His hand didn’t cut it. Your mouth and pussy were what he wanted. 

And oh, how good your mouth was. You knew exactly how to pleasure him. Knew he loved when you swirled your tongue against the underside of his tip, where he was most sensitive. Knew he couldn’t get enough of your hands on his balls while you took him down your throat. Knew he loved when you rubbed your face all over his dick. 

When you pulled your mouth off of him again, you rubbed the tip all over your lips, kissing softly, humming against him. Then you went back to tonguing the underside, and he gasped sharply, hips jolting. 

You took that opportunity to close your mouth around him and let him slide naturally to the back of your throat again. You used your other hand to massage down his shaft as you pulled back up, never leaving him without a moment of stimulation. 

“Y’ keep doin’ that and I won’t last,” he warned. 

“That’s the idea,” you replied with a smile. 

He moaned softly, letting his head fall back as you swallowed around him. This time, you stayed down longer, gulping as you did, and the sound drove him wild. You were drooling all over him, pulling out all the stops to bring him to the edge. 

And it was working. He was so pent up, and you both knew he wasn’t going to last. He’d begun to tremble, his thighs shaking at either side of your head. His hands clenched and unclenched around the blankets he held. His hips had begun to move of their own volition. 

“You’re squirming,” you teased. 

“Ca-can’t help it,” he stammered. “Your—fuck—your mouth is so g— ah!”

He couldn’t even get the words out. You kept pressing your tongue against that damn spot, knowing it would get him all worked up. He was losing his coherence the longer it went on. Mumbled half phrases, with gasps and whines mixed in. It was so easy to work him up like this. He was always so responsive. 

Interestingly enough, he hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, he’d been more reserved. He was shy about the sounds he made. Ashamed of his whines and whimpers. He was holding back, and you could tell. So, little by little, you encouraged him to be more vocal. 

“Wanna hear you. Wanna know it feels good for you,” you’d told him, and he hadn’t really thought of it that way. As much as he loved hearing you and knowing he was making you feel good, he realized you also wanted the same thing from him. 

It took him a little while to feel confident enough to freely make those sounds of pleasure, but once he finally got past that hurdle, you couldn’t shut him up if you tried. Not that you wanted to, either. 

There was something about this man of few words being unable to remain silent that really got to you. You’d expected him to be all gravelly grunts and groans. And he was. But he whimpered, too. A lot. Especially when you got him feeling really good. 

He was so easy to rile up. Whether he was assuming the dominant or submissive role, or just simply making love to you with no kinky games involved. Get him close to orgasm, and sounds would pour from his throat uncontrollably. 

Like now, for instance. He was so beautiful this way. His whole body trembling, his eyes rolling back, his mouth open to let out unsteady gasps. You loved how you could reduce him to such a state. This strong, steady man, who’d just so tenderly taken care of you, was now trying to hold it together so he wouldn’t come too soon. 

But you wanted it. “Nuh-uh, don’t you hold back,” you told him. 

He took a shuddering breath. “Honey…”

“C’mon,” you coaxed, wrapping your fingers around him and stroking quickly. “Know you wanna come in my mouth, wanna watch me swallow all of it.”

And oh, he did. One thing about Rhett was that he loved watching you take his cum. Whether it be smeared across your pretty face, painted onto your chest, dripping out of your pussy, or in your mouth. 

Right now, you wanted it in your mouth. And you were determined to get it. Keeping your tongue right against his tip, you tightened your grip on him only slightly, moving your hand with purpose. Your other hand was at his balls again, massaging in time with the hand on his shaft. 

His eyes swam with unshed tears, and he gritted his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose. Warmth was beginning to crackle to life at the base of his spine, as if you’d just lit a fuse. 

You pulled out all the stops, taking him to the hilt again before you resumed that pleasurable torture against his tip. Alternating back and forth, bringing him closer and closer and closer to the edge, watching through hooded eyes as he lost himself, chest heaving, body trembling. 

“C-close,” he gasped. 

“Come down my throat,” you urged, before you placed his cock against your tongue, stroking hard and fast as you brought him toward his end. 

Rhett gazed down at you, and you caught his eye, your face pleading as you eagerly awaited his load. He could barely take the sight, and he threw his head back, groaning deeply. “F-fuck, darlin’, I’m—”

And then he whined. Keening high in his chest, his hips shunted forward. You could feel him pulse beneath your touch, and in an instant, you closed your mouth around him, creating a seal so that nothing would escape. You took all he had to give, swallowing every last drop of his seed like the good girl you were, all while he gasped and whined and softly sobbed above you. 

As he came down, he twitched in your mouth, the sensitivity mounting. He hissed as you pulled off his cock, sucking any remnants of cum from his skin before you released the softening shaft. You pressed a gently kiss to the tip before you innocently looked up at him.

Breathlessly, he swore. “Get up here,” he murmured, and you smiled, climbing up into his lap. He searched for your lips, and you kissed him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Mm, nearly sucked m’ soul outta me,” he teased.

“That was the idea,” you said with a giggle. 

He leaned in to kiss you again. His eyes were droopy, sleepiness evident in his features. “Should return the favor,” he continued when he broke the kiss, but you shook your head. 

“Uh-uh, that was my way of thanking you for taking care of me. We’re even.”

“But I wan’...” he paused to yawn, “wan’ make you feel good, too.”

“Tomorrow,” you promised. “For now, let’s just rest.” Another kiss was pressed to his lips before you reluctantly slid off him to retrieve his pants from the floor. You had just enough time to pull them onto his body before he had fallen asleep.

Lovingly, you brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead before you settled down beside him, pulling the blanket over you both. “I love you, cowboy,” you whispered, as you nestled yourself against his side. How grateful you were for him. This good and kind man was all yours. You silently thanked the universe for giving him to you.

And sure enough, the next morning, you woke to his head between your thighs, sending you to a place of absolute, unadulterated bliss. 

Yes, you were thankful for him indeed. 

-

taglist:

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @peachystenbrough @attapullman @auroralightsthesky @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @hangmanapologist @lovinglyeternal @laracrofted @callsign-magnolia @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @nobody7102 @milesmillergf @idontcare-11 @theliterarybeldam @yanna-banana @floydsglasses @whisperofsong @1-800-floyd @floydsmuse @cruel-winter-nights @goldenseresinretriever @keep-on-burnin @happyrebelruins @bamfkurt @swiftsgirlfriend @virgo-wonder @seitmai-too @bradshawsbaby @bradshawsbitch

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hello I have a… unique emergency request ig..

I’m in a very healthy relationship with my boyfriend and we recently got into in argument. A very heated one to the point he slapped me. and keep in mind my boyfriend has never and I mean never made the intention to hurt me in any kind of way. He prefers to talk things over rather than resort to violence during arguments. As soon as me and him realized what he did he looked very regretful and I just left the room not knowing how to feel. A thing I think is the reason why he did that is that lately he has been having a little commotion in his workplace and struggling to keep up with his work. I know that but he hasn’t been taking care of himself lately since he was overworking himself. I approached him with this and that starting a simple disagreement which turned to a heated argument between the two of us. It’s been a day or so since then and I don’t know what I should do. The thing with me is that I’m a people pleaser, I tend to forgive and forget a lot then I should be doing. Which is why a lot of my family members and friends (already knowing I’m a ppl pleaser) suggest I break up with him. I honestly do not want to, everyone deserves a second chance right? And he obviously didn’t mean it, I don’t know. He has never touched me before or hurt me in any kind of way and even asks if he hurt me before when he does something. Could I get your opinion on this through some law x reader HC’s of them going through a similar situation? Maybe readers worried for law and he slaps her in the middle of an argument?

Sorry if this doesn’t follow any of your rules (sorry abt the grammar too)

Thank you if you do do this and have a great day:)

So after reading over my rules a few times, I haven't found any flaws in following my rules. That being said, I'm very conflicted with this request and can't write it. It's not that I don't want to, just that it's a very... difficult subject. It pains my heart to turn down an emergency request when it's needed, but there's too much back and forth in my head. The best I could do is write it as two separate fics, going into the two different paths in my head and if you'd like to see that, by all means, send this back in, but as one singular fic? My mind is at war with itself.

But seriously! If you want to see both sides of my mind SEND. IT. BACK. IN!!! I don't mind writing both sides, but I can't write this as just one or the other.

[mariacallous]

If ever there were a love story for the Instagram age, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s beautifully chronicled romance is the one. Here they are, in a series of pictures from their private album released to promote next week’s six-part Netflix documentary on their relationship, sitting atop a Jeep on what looks like their first holiday together. Here he is, serenading her on the guitar. Then the two of them, impossibly glamorous, spinning joyously around the dancefloor at their wedding; and her on a beach, pregnant and delightedly cradling the bump, against an almost too perfect sunset.

Couple goals, luxury travel, a baby: that’s all the influencer boxes ticked. But perhaps the most telling image shows them late at night in their kitchen, just in from an official engagement. Harry has stripped off his dress jacket and is kissing Meghan, who is perched on the counter in an evening gown; it’s sexy, dishevelled and achingly intimate, at least until you ask yourself how precisely there came to be a photographer handy to capture it.

But, of course, this is the Sussexes as they want the world to see them: young and in love, happy and free, defiantly enjoying the fairytale romance that unleashed such baffling hatred in some quarters when Meghan first married into the royal family. After the death threats and the trolls, the pressures that left her feeling suicidal and him terrified of losing her, like he lost his mother, it’s not surprising that they are so anxious to take back control and overwrite the ugliness with something beautiful. They may be presenting a highly stage-managed version of themselves to the world, but isn’t that what royalty has always sought to do? It’s just that, lately, the slick Sussex brand looks rather better at it than the established market leader.

It’s been another terrible week for the royal family, once again accused of harbouring racism within the institution after a Black female guest at a reception hosted by Camilla, the Queen Consort, said she was persistently questioned by a lady-in-waiting about where she was “really” from. A Black woman, invited into the heart of the family but made to feel profoundly unwelcome? Well, that rings too many bells for comfort.

“Meghan already told you who those people are,” tweeted the American writer and activist Roxane Gay, after the domestic violence campaigner Ngozi Fulani came forward to describe her experiences. When it was only Meghan’s word against the palace’s about the racism she claimed to have experienced, she could more easily be dismissed as simply difficult, especially once she was herself accused of bullying palace staff. Not any more.

The speed with which the palace distanced itself from the veteran lady-in-waiting Lady Susan Hussey suggests it does at least recognise how damaging all this is. King Charles has, to be fair, spent years thinking deeply about how to modernise the monarchy, appealing to younger Britons at home and dealing with the painful legacy of empire within the Commonwealth. But the Firm now appears to have hit that painful stage of corporate evolution when an organisation knows it needs to diversify, but is aghast to discover that means it actually has to change, rather than making a few token adjustments and blithely carrying on much as before.

Her defenders argue that 83-year-old Hussey’s mistake was simply being born into an era where such comments were deemed perfectly acceptable. “Her sin, if there was one, was being old,” writes the journalist and family friend Petronella Wyatt in the Spectator. “Most pensioners are unfamiliar with the wonders of woke etiquette.” But Hussey was not most pensioners. She was a professional at work, whose role was to put every guest entering what can be an intimidatingly grand environment at their ease, and that requires the ability to move with the times.

Every guest invited to the palace is there because their work is deemed important to the nation, and the institution is responsible for ensuring they all go home with a magical story to tell their grandchildren. Diversifying the guest list is commendable – no doubt there weren’t many Black women from Hackney on it when Hussey joined the court 60 years ago – but it isn’t progress if it means people turning up only to be insulted. Which brings us, inevitably, back to Meghan.

Six years after the Olympic opening ceremony beguiled liberal Britain into thinking we really were the relaxed, modern, richly multicultural country we saw on screen, the sight of the royal family embracing a mixed-race princess raised our hopes again. To watch that wedding at which a Black bishop preached passionately about poverty, hunger and war, while Prince Charles gamely stepped in for her absent father to walk Meghan up the aisle, was to feel the cobwebs blowing away. Barely two years later, however, the unhappy Sussexes had decamped to the US leaving a trail of shattered illusions behind them.

Is the life they have now really the one they sought by leaving? Both seem faintly fragile still, and there are risks to the Faustian pact they have seemingly entered into with the media by mining their private lives for content. Netflix presumably isn’t paying the big bucks just for a charming flip through the wedding album – a trailer shows Meghan apparently in tears – and nor are the publishers of Harry’s bleakly titled autobiography, Spare. No matter how much they think they are in control, Brand Sussex are content creators now and the pressure on them to keep revealing more and more of themselves to hold the attention of a restlessly scrolling audience will be relentless.

But then, having had his life commodified for public consumption from the cradle, perhaps Harry is used to that. What this week has underlined, meanwhile, is that the royal family arguably needed Meghan more than she needed them. She and Harry were always a creaking Windsor brand’s best hope of renewal, its way into the hearts of a young, diverse, emotionally literate and politically aware new generation of Britons who still haven’t warmed in quite the same way to the new Prince and Princess of Wales and who recoil in horror from stories like this week’s. After all the dust has settled, Meghan still has her Prince Charming. The Windsors, battling against a future of dwindling cultural relevance, are still searching for their happy ending.

[hereaia]

Lately, I’ve been realizing a lot of things.

I need to focus more on myself rather than my relationships with others. Focusing on the latter has affected me negatively, to the point where I struggle to be productive. When I’m not busy, I tend to find something to obsess over. I remember hearing someone say that if you’re not busy enough, you end up focusing on other things. I need to develop discipline and concentrate fully on my goals. There are so many areas I need to work on, but I can’t seem to make progress because of poor decisions and irrational behavior.

I came across a quote a couple of days ago: “Wherever you go, there you are.” It struck me deeply because it’s so true. No matter where I go, I can’t escape the different versions of myself — good or bad, happy or sad. All these aspects of me are always present. I have a habit of trying to run away from my problems, often by avoiding them or hoping they’ll go away on their own. I remember back in first-year college, we had to draw various apparatuses in chemistry class. There was one that I found difficult and wanted to skip, but I ended up drawing it anyway. I thought, why avoid it? It’s better to face it now than to come back to it later. This simple task made me realize something deeper. I used to approach challenges right away no matter how intimidating it was because of that way of thinking, but lately, I’ve been running from them. The quote reminds me that no matter where I go, I can’t escape my problems. It’s about how I choose to view and deal with my current situation and how it affects me.

The place I live in the most is my own mind. I need to make it a kinder, healthier, and more loving space. I believe we often listen more to our own thoughts than to others, especially those around us. Over the past year, I’ve been even more doubting myself and questioning my capabilities. I frequently ask, “What if I can’t do it?” or “What if I’m not good enough?” even harsher questions like “Why am I not enough?” or “Why was I born like this?” have been tormenting me. I’ve been much harder on myself than anyone else, and I think this self-criticism is why I haven’t made much progress. I tend to focus on the negatives instead of pushing myself to improve. It’s okay to criticize ourselves for growth, but my mind can be too harsh. I hope to learn to be kinder and more supportive to myself.

I need to choose my battles. I came across a post about things we can and cannot control: the past, the future, the actions of others, what people think of us, and what happens around us. These areas have consumed a lot of my energy this year, especially after being betrayed by someone I love. I feel foolish for staying loyal and loving wholeheartedly, not realizing they were being unfaithful. Some might downplay it, but cheating, regardless of its scale, is still betrayal to me. It’s something I take personally because I know I would never do that to someone I love. That said, I need to decide whether to stay in misery, dwell on the “whys” and “what ifs,” or accept that things happen for a reason. I need to pick myself up, live for myself, and not for others. It’s up to me to choose whether to be upset or to find the silver lining. This is MY life, after all.

I’ve always considered myself a girl’s girl. While I can’t be certain if I’ve ever caused another woman pain, I can confidently say I’ve never done so intentionally. I’ve never set out to hurt another woman, especially knowing how painful that can be. I’m not perfect, and I may have said things in the past that I’ve since forgotten, but I can’t bring myself to discuss matters that could cause harm to another woman. No matter how hurt I am, I just can’t. Perhaps it’s because I empathize with them, imagining how I’d feel if the roles were reversed. Even if others don’t know what’s said behind their backs, it doesn’t make it right.

[bravewolfvesperia]

He wished he could explain. Wished he had time to warn him properly. Even for Yuri, it was almost insane how quickly everything in the world just went completely haywire. Things were normal for a while at least, aside from the constant fear of never know who was next on Vision Central. That was just the norm though. Other than that, Yuri's life had been normal. Average. Things were fine until... Van happened.

When Repede nudged him, he looked back at him for a moment, a small sigh leaving him and he nodded. Repede was right and he knew that, but walking away like this was just... difficult. He knew Repede understood, but they all knew Yuri getting noticed here did none of them any favors. Rather, it could just end up getting them all killed.

Flynn's apology could have broken his heart though if it wasn't already basically broken. Yuri had already lost so much of himself that was hardly recovering around Kanata's group. It was nothing compared to what he was before. Flynn probably noticed it too... how everything about his demeanor had reshaped itself for survival and reality.

"It's okay. All of this has been... a lot." They both knew why he cried. Yuri might have felt the same way if he had as well, and eventually he would, even if only out of frustration. Their entire situation just felt like... a lie. In some way, it almost felt like it was just there for people's entertainment. To watch some supposed criminal just try to keep living and struggling all the time. To see who else suffers in the meantime who knew him.

Maybe he did need to leverage with Jade. Not only was he important in his military, but he was also technically in opposition to the side that was... rampant with these things. Yuri didn't know much about Gadel, but he was at least aware he was to blame for Aegis' sin being completely made up. For all Aegis insisted he had committed at least a sin of sorts, it was nothing worth the lie he was being put through.

Even if Flynn was partially joking, Yuri still gave the smallest nod in understanding. He was still right. If they met, Flynn couldn't risk his position or his entire life by associating with him in front of others. Some soldiers might be understanding if they knew he was an old friend, but most of them would only give him so long to "steel himself" and "get over it". They would likely only leave him to a grieving period - not a chance to explain the truth.

Still, he knew he had to go and sighed again, almost as a means of bracing himself to be able to leave. Being condemned was difficult and painful, but taking him away from his life - Flynn and the Lower Quarter - was even worse. His hand reached for Flynn's as he leaned back toward Flynn for another, this time brief, kiss. "I love you too. Always." It had taken everything left in him not to choke on his words. It was too late for that. He had to leave.

He gave the longest glance he could before turning around, patting Repede's head to let him know it was time to go. Repede answered with a quiet bark and followed Yuri down the alleyway. Yuri stopped only briefly to look back at Flynn, not saying a word; no expression on his face that remained before he rounded the corner.

He wasn't sure if he was angrier than he was sad. Angry that this had to happen in the first place. Yuri had been angry enough to kill before, but seeing the effect a single condemnation could have on so many others was a lot more than aggravating. Yuri's life hadn't been the only one ruined and nobody cared. None of the masses cared about the others who lives were in danger now just for associating with him. Just for knowing him.

This all started because of Kasque, didn't it? No matter how much he blamed Van, if Van was just working for Kasque, he needed to skip right over Van's head and go for her. Kanata and the others were doing that, but they weren't strong enough yet. None of them were. They needed to be. If Yuri was going to kill anyone, it had to be her. If Van got in the way, he would just have to go down too.

Whether it was a lie or the truth, Flynn didn’t know nor did he care. Just hearing Yuri was enough to give him some spark of hope to cling to in his mind. As long as Yuri said those words, Flynn could pretend that Yuri was definitely going to come home one day. It was such a strange way to fool his mind but he knew he could trust Yuri and his strange ability to survive, even the smallest of odds.

Even if Yuri were lying about his promise to make Flynn feel better, Flynn had a feeling that it didn’t matter too much. Because Yuri was Yuri and his friend would find a way to make it through alive, even if it seemed entirely impossible at the moment. He wasn’t sure who Yuri’s new friends were and he definitely didn’t have the time to ask but he just had to trust that these friends would help Yuri along this path he had taken. 

Meanwhile, Flynn would have to assist from a distance. Though he wasn’t too sure what he could even do from Zaphias, not to mention he would have to leave the city occasionally as well. Thinking back to their long term goal… To get rid of the vision orbs and Vision Central… He could always start from there. Research their origins, find connections and maybe even research the Goddess as well.

Though even if he found anything, there was no guarantee that he would be able to give the information to Yuri unless they were able to meet up. And him leaving to go search for the other would be entirely out of the question for a multitude of reasons. But he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing, could he? He had to have something to offer Yuri for when they inevitably meet up again. (Because they would, wouldn’t they? It seemed impossible that this would be the last time they see each other.) 

So, he would have spend what little free time he had researching the topic of the Vision Orbs and of the Goddess Kasque. Carefully, of course. The last thing he needed was someone to catch him looking into the matter and getting suspicious about Flynn’s sudden interest in the topic.

At the mention of the twins, Flynn is suddenly caught off guard by the sudden topic change as Yuri wiped at his face. “What…? Twins? I don’t… think I’ve ever come across them…?” As he speaks, he notices the worry on Yuri’s face and whoever these two twins were, they were already filling Flynn with a sense of dread.

If Yuri looked this worried and was needing to bring it up to warn Flynn in the middle of their goodbyes, it must be serious. But did Yuri know this first hand? Had these twins hurt him in some way? Tricked him? Were they dangerous? Flynn had too many questions to ask and not enough time for any answers. For now, if he were to come across these twins, he would probably just have to opt to avoid them if possible. It would be nice to know what he was dealing with but they did not have the luxury of time.

Repede wanders over and lets out a tiny whine as he bumps his head against Yuri’s leg, ears pushed back as he glances back over to Flynn for a moment. Repede… was right. They were spending too much time here and it was only a matter of time before one of his knights came back and found him still hanging around the alleyway. He could only cover for himself for so long. 

“I have a lot of questions about… well… everything but… But Repede is right. We don’t have time.” Flynn’s chest began to ache again as he moved his hand to dry his tears. “I… didn’t want to cry. How embarrassing…” 

A weak laugh escapes him. This wasn’t how he ever wanted to see Yuri off. How could Yuri find the strength to do any of this after such a depressing goodbye? No, Flynn had to do better than that. To salvage this the best he could and, despite his red eyes and tear stained cheeks, see his most treasured friend off on a good note. With a smile. 

Reaching over to cup Yuri’s cheeks in both of his hands, he leans forward and kisses him one last time, short and gentle before mustering up the biggest smile he could make in these circumstances. It was shaky but he hoped it would be enough.

“When we see each other again, I hope we’ll have enough time to actually sit down and have a talk about everything. If you come across me while I’m with our Knights, we may have to pretend to be enemies for both of our safeties but just know I wouldn’t do anything to actually hurt you… Badly, anyway. I know you’re perfectly capable of taking a few hits from me. And vice versa.” 

He offers another tiny laugh at his poor attempt at a joke as strokes his thumb against Yuri’s cheek. “You should go… We’ll see each other again soon. I love you.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 8,347 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, attempted sexual assault, discussions of trauma, typical TWD A/N: This is Part 1 of the new miniseries! This should be 2 or 3 parts total, and it's kind of intense and a bit dark at certain points so heed the warnings ya'll. Summary: Y/N is considered quiet, standoffish, and even a bit odd by the group, but Daryl knows how much she does around camp to care for everyone. After a traumatic incident while searching for Sophia, Daryl starts to discover why Y/N is the way she is.

Your name: submit What is this?

The group was all sitting around the low campfire, eating some breakfast. The two Greene girls came out with baskets in hand. Beth approached Rick and held hers out. “We have some more eggs for you all. Our hens lay more than we can eat,” she said.

Rick gratefully accepted them with an earnest look and a nod. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“And some potatoes,” Maggie offered. Lori grabbed her basket.

“Really, you all are being so kind. If there’s anything we can do to help around the place just let us know,” she said.

Beth was looking off into the distance at you sitting alone, away from the group, your back to the farmstead. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked, without really thinking.

“Beth!” Maggie scolded her.

“Well, I—I just mean she never eats with ya’ll. She seems like she’s always off on her own,” Beth explained, a little sheepish from her sister’s scolding.

The rest of the group was looking your direction now too, many of them asking the same questions in their minds.

“C’mon, now. That’s enough,” Maggie said. “Daddy needs help with the laundry.”

The group watched them head back to the farmhouse and Shane was the next one to break the silence. “It’s a fair question,” he said, chuckling to himself wryly, glancing back over his shoulder at you before leaning in to grab another helping of breakfast. “She hasn’t exactly meshed into the fabric of the group, has she?”

“Shane, give it a rest,” Lori said sternly.

“No offense meant but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say more than two words at a time,” Andrea said. “You can’t pretend like there isn’t something… odd there.”

Dale hummed. “Not that it’s really our business, but she’s never said anything about what happened to her before we found her out by the quarry. I’ve tried to ask her about her family, what she used to do before all this,” he shrugged vaguely. “Never got a thing out of her. That’s her right if she doesn’t want to talk about it, but it does seem a little strange.”

“That’s all I’m sayin’,” Shane said. “Somethin’ weird with that girl,” he trailed off.

Daryl stood up, annoyed. “Ya’ll are a buncha busy body gossips. If ya’d open your damn eyes for two seconds you’d realize she does more for this group than most of ya combined,” he growled. “She gathered that wood burnin’ in your fire right there. Them mushrooms mixed in with your damn eggs, who the hell ya think found those? Ya think they just magically appeared along with that stuff you’re usin’ to make tea every night?” He tossed his empty plate down on the grass and scoffed. “People who don’t trust easily usually got a damn good reason. ’M outta here.”

Shane watched him go in slight amusement, but most of the others looked a little ashamed of themselves. Daryl was right, of course. You did do a lot for the group. You just kept to yourself. You didn’t make a big show of bringing back some meat or foraged food. You never complained when Rick or Shane asked you to do something. You took more than your fair share of the night watches. And the fact that no one knew anything about your past, the fact that you didn’t talk much, didn’t need any explanation to Daryl. Based on his own background, he could guess there was a reason you were the way you were.

A short time later, Daryl noticed you gathering up your pack and grabbing your pistol and recurve bow. He wandered over as you were snapping your knife into its sheath at your hip. “Ya headin’ out to search again?” he asked softly. You and him seemed to be the only ones who hadn’t completely given up hope of finding Sophia. You simply nodded once.

“Alright,” Daryl drawled. “What’s your plan?” Asking a question that wasn’t a simple yes or no was always a toss-up with you. Half the time he’d get a short answer, half the time he wouldn’t.

“North side of the ridge,” you said. Your voice was always quiet and measured. The archer usually wished most people would talk less, but with you he always hoped to hear more. The little that you said was purposeful and deliberate. There was no idle bullshit.

He nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Alright. I’ll start by that creek and work along the south side. We can be close by in case either of us gets into trouble with walkers,” he said.

You simply nodded again and gave him a long thoughtful look. You did that a lot. Daryl had the feeling there was a lot going on behind your eyes, but you never spoke any of it. Surprisingly, he never felt nervous or uncomfortable when you looked at him like that. He just hoped someday maybe you’d open up a little bit more. The next moment you had turned and were heading toward the tree line already. Daryl scrambled to gather his gear and set off after you.

He could see your figure ahead, disappearing into the brush and soon he couldn’t see or hear you at all. He set out along the south side of the ridge as planned, picking his way along the creek, scrutinizing every inch of ground and hoping for a shoeprint.

Along the north side you were doing the same. You frequently knelt to examine some little scrape in the litter or soil and as you went you filled the little cloth bag you carried with edible and medicinal plants, berries, and fungi. The day wore on with no sign of the little girl and your frustration and fear grew even as the sun reached its apex in the sky and started to drift back down toward the western horizon.

You turned and started picking a new path back, heading toward the farm now rather than away. The deepening shadows made detecting print or trail more difficult but you kept your focus sharp on the ground as you moved, your bow slung over your shoulder next to your quiver.

You were becoming tired when you noticed an impression in the mud. You knelt, one knee of your jeans sinking into the damp soil. It was a boot print, but certainly not left by Sophia. You stared at the detail of the sole impression and your brow drew down low immediately. You have everyone’s shoe designs memorized. It wasn’t one you recognized. Your eyes drifted up and you could see a worn trail through the underbrush and more prints, heavy in the mud. There were at least three men who had left this trail, and they weren’t walkers. The path was straight ahead with no stagger and you could tell they were picking their way through the underbrush. You crouched and started to follow the trail. You needed to get eyes on these people. They were awfully close to the farm… Close enough, certainly, to see the smoke rising from the chimney and your fire circles.

You ghosted through the woods following the trail, moving as silently as you could. You’d been on the path for probably ten minutes when you could hear careless, noisy movement ahead. You must have caught up with them. Your heart hammering in your chest, you stayed low and crept closer. As you moved around a partially downed tree you could finally see the shapes of two men ahead. They were scruffy and filthy, clearly living on the move in the woods. You needed a closer look. You wanted to see what kinds of weapons they had on them. If you could scout out the group, you could determine whether something needed to be done about them or not.

As you tried to shift to another patch of concealing cover, you didn’t notice your bow catching on a low hanging dead branch. By the time you felt the resistance it was too late. The whole branch pulled loose with a loud snapping sound as it bent and cracked other dried branches and twigs on its way down. The two men you had been watching spun immediately and had weapons raised, rifles pointed in your direction. You were swearing under your breath and instantly on your feet aiming your pistol right back.

“Well, shit! What the hell do we have here?” one of the men asked, shifting a little to get a better look at you. “You alone out here, sweetheart?”

You fell an immediate swell of anger and dread rising up in your chest.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” the second man asked, grinning and revealing teeth that were tobacco stained and yellow.

“What’s a fine little thing like you doing out here by yourself? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? There are all kinds of monsters in these woods,” the first man said, looking you up and down thoroughly. His companion laughed.

Fuck. This was bad. Why had you pushed your luck and crept in so closely? Now you were outnumbered and you knew there was at least one other man somewhere that you didn’t have eyes on.

Your chest was heaving with anxious breaths from the rush of adrenaline. The first man stepped a bit closer again and you responded by taking a measured step back, your pistol aimed squarely at his chest. Now what? Should you make a run for it? Would they shoot you? Based on the animalistic looks in their eyes you knew things could go very bad, very quickly if you couldn’t get the fuck out of there. Your mind was whirring.

Suddenly, you heard a stick crack behind you and you turned instinctively to see a third man now rushing you. He landed a fist into your jaw and your vision went black as you fell to the ground, holding onto your pistol as tightly as you could. The pain radiating from your jaw into your head was overwhelming. You blinked, willing the darkness to clear, but it lingered as you suddenly felt rough hands on you, rolling you over and ripping both your bow and rifle from your back.

You struggled blindly and managed to get yourself onto your back again as the darkness in your eyes faded instead to the outlines of blurred shapes. You could make out the shape of the man standing over you and you instinctively raised your pistol and squeezed several rounds which sounded like cracks of thunder in the close woods. You missed, the scene still foggy, and you immediately squeezed again and discharged another round but the man leapt down on you with a wild yell, knocking your arm to the side and pinning it into the ground. His weight pressed down on you and you were vaguely aware of an acrid smell filling your nostrils, causing bile to rise up in your throat. He pried your pistol from your hand and tossed it away into the brush.

You writhed beneath him, struggling to get clear of his grasp but he was much bigger than you and soon there was another set of hands on you. You were rolled onto your stomach again and your arms were pulled back behind you and held painfully tight.

“We got ourselves a wild cat here, boys!” one of the men laughed. “Get her up,” he ordered. You were pulled roughly onto your feet, still trying to blink away the remaining fuzziness in your eyes and struggling against your captor.

The first man, who seemed to be the leader, paced over, watching you with a look of satisfaction on his face as you still tried to fight loose. His rifle was now dropped casually by his side. He grabbed your chin cruelly and pulled it up so you looked right into his eyes. His fingers dug into the tender spot on your jaw where the other man had hit you. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing,” he murmured silkily.

You yanked your face from his grasp and he chuckled, glancing back at the other man standing just behind him. “She’s a good one,” he said, a sick smirk on his face. He looked back at you and his eyes roamed perversely over your body. “This’ll be fun.”

He turned violent and grabbed the front of your light cotton shirt, ripping it harshly down off one shoulder, tearing the breezy plaid fabric easily and popping off the first three buttons. The man holding you only tightened his grip. Your throat constricted so tightly it was hard to breathe. You felt like your heart was beating so hard that it would surely burst. You could feel everyone’s eyes on your newly bared skin. Next the leader withdrew a knife and pressed the point into the center of your chest just above your bra. You cringed at the feeling of the biting cold metal pricking your skin.

He stepped close into you and moved the knife up to your throat, pressing it to the side of your neck and drawing it lightly across your skin just enough to cut you. You winced and shut your eyes, trying to keep as still as possible with that blade to your throat and you soon felt a rivulet of warmth rolling down toward your collarbone. You opened your eyes as the knife left your throat and he slipped it under your exposed bra strap, rotating it and lifted up until the fabric started to separate along the sharp edge. Finally, it gave and the strap hung loosely down. He sucked in a hiss of breath through his teeth, his eyes hungry and crazed. “This will be a lot easier on you if you just cooperate. Then again… I like a woman with some fight in her,” he snarled. “Your choice.” His companions let out more appreciative laughter as fear twisted your stomach.

You felt yourself going numb. Suddenly, you couldn’t feel any pain anymore. You couldn’t feel the man’s hands pinning your arms back. You couldn’t feel the blood that was now running down your chest. Your eyes drifted to the leader’s cold, blue blade and then unfocused so the scene simply became a haze. And you suddenly realized that they hadn’t taken your knife. It was still in its sheath on your hip…

A short distance away, Daryl had been thinking that it was probably about time to call it a day and head back when he heard a series of loud gunshots. His body went rigid and he turned frantically, staring off into the brush. He strained his hearing to its limit. They’d definitely come from your direction. Abandoning any other thought, he sprung into motion, racing through the woods as fast as he could in the direction he thought the blasts had come from.

Back in camp, everyone else had heard the shots too. Shane turned and looked at Rick, his gaze intense.

“Were those gun shots?” Lori asked, fear in her voice.

“Yeah,” Rick said, rising to his feet and rushing to grab his gun from the stash of weapons in the RV. “Shane, T, Glenn, let’s go! The rest of you stay here!”

Hershel stepped out onto the porch and watched the group of men racing across the pasture toward the trees. He had a bad feeling in his gut. Maggie and Beth came out, the slamming screen door punctuating the piercing silence that fell after the shots.

Daryl smashed through the brush carelessly, his eyes scanning the ground for a trail, any trail, something to follow. Finally, his eyes locked on boot prints that were surely yours. He vaguely registered that there were much larger impressions in the soil too, several different boots much larger than yours. And they certainly weren’t from walkers.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed under his breath. He froze and scanned the thick greenery. He strained his hearing again, listening for some sound, anything, to give him an idea of what was happening. Please don’t let me be too late, he thought frantically. He took off again but more cautiously, following the tracks you had clearly also discovered. Probably what had led you right into something…

Rick and the others were well into the trees now but Shane stopped everyone. “Rick, what the hell are we doin’ man? We don’t have a clue where Y/N and Daryl are. We can’t just go blindly crashing through here or we’re gonna end up in a bad spot too.”

Rick’s eyes frantically whirred over the seemingly endless tree trunks.

“Wait—I saw Y/N’s map yesterday. She had the whole thing sectioned out into search areas,” Glenn said. “Most of them were already crossed off.”

“Well, which ones weren’t?” Shane urged, checking to make sure there was a round chambered in his gun.

“Uhh—” Glenn’s mind raced. “I think—I think by that ridge, straight north of here. But I can’t be sure,” he trailed off.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face. They all listened for any sound, but the woods were oppressively silent now. “Shit…” he cursed under his breath.

“It’s the best we got,” T gasped, out of breath from the frenetic dash from camp.

Rick nodded. “Alright. Then we head north. Keep your heads on a swivel and your eyes peeled for any sign of Y/N or Daryl.”

Daryl moved as swiftly along the trail as he could. Suddenly, he spotted something lying on top of the litter out of the corner of his eye. Your pistol. Daryl grabbed it and the muzzle was still warm. Clearly, you’d been the one to fire at least some of those shots. “Fuck. Fuck…” He tucked it into his waistband and moved more cautiously now. His heart was pounding and sweat was pouring down his forehead. His knuckles were white on his crossbow. He rounded a downed tree and froze when he saw a dark shape on the ground ahead. His heart dropped into his stomach. Please don’t let it be Y/N… He was almost paralyzed with fear but he forced himself to take another couple steps. As he rounded the brush and straightened up, he knew it wasn’t you but his apprehension didn’t evaporate. It was a large man, clearly dead, completely covered in blood. The hair on the back of Daryl’s neck suddenly stood on end and he spun around, his crossbow up to his eye, ready to fire. But he dropped it involuntarily as he took in the scene before him, his jaw dropping partially open and his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was seeing.

You were standing there in front of him trembling from head to toe, your hands out in front of you with your knife clutched in one like it was a lifeline. Daryl could easily see the shakiness in your hands. You were completely covered in blood. Your clothing and skin were soaked in it, like you’d bathed in a crimson river. There was thick splatter on your face, neck, and chest. Your eyes were wide and fixed and you didn’t show any awareness that he was there in front of you. Daryl registered that your shirt was torn down from one shoulder and your bra strap had been cut. He didn’t need an explanation to know what the fuck had happened and rage swelled in his chest, stoking an intense fire. His eyes drifted down to two more bodies lying at your feet, each with uncountable stab wounds and one with his throat cut, his clothing drenched. The metallic smell of blood was in the air and Daryl could almost taste it on his tongue.

Still you showed no awareness that he was there. You seemed frozen, catatonic. He now registered that you had slash wounds through the fabric of your sleeves and cuts on your arms. Defensive wounds where you had blocked a knife attack. There was a purposeful cut partially up the hem of your jeans at the bottom, clearly from one of the men… It was nearly impossible to tell if you were hurt anywhere else because there was just so much blood…

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he murmured. “Y/N?” He took a cautious step toward you. “Y/N? Can ya hear me?”

Nothing. No reaction at all.

Just then Daryl heard the noise of several people in the woods nearby and he planted himself between you and the sound, raising his crossbow. “Ya better get the fuck outta here unless ya want an arrow between the eyes!” he roared.

Rick straightened up. That was Daryl. “Daryl?!”

Daryl gulped. “…Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Shane, Glenn, and T! We’re comin’ to you! Are you alright?”

Daryl glanced back at you again. You were still just standing there shaking. “‘M fine. Wasn’t me who fired…” Daryl swung his pack off his back and dug inside it.

The men crashed through the underbrush and came into view, taking in the scene. “Oh my God.” The words spilled from Glenn’s lips. They were all glancing from the bloody bodies on the ground to your blood-soaked figure.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane uttered, pacing closer and bending to look at the slash wound in the one corpse’s neck. Daryl finally laid hands on his poncho and yanked it out of his bag. He turned to look at you and began approaching cautiously. “Y/N? It’s Daryl. Can ya hear me?”

Nothing.

Rick was slack-jawed as he looked at the scene. “Daryl… be careful,” he cautioned, eyeing the knife still gripped in your fist.

Daryl glanced back at him. “She ain’t gonna do nothin’ to me,” he drawled.

“Do you see this?” Glenn asked him urgently indicating the bodies. “This is insane. You don’t know that! She looks completely out of it, like she doesn’t even know we’re here!”

Daryl’s jaw clenched and he turned back to look at you again. “Don’t ya fuckin’ see her? She’s terrified. Look at her clothes. They were tryin’ to rape her,” he growled. “They deserve what they got.”

Shane straightened up from examining the bodies, glancing furtively over at you. “Maybe but… on the force, we’d call this ‘overkill’,” he said, backing up and exchanging a glance with Rick.

Daryl ignored him. “Y/N? It’s alright. You’re safe. Nobody is gonna hurt ya. Just lemme take your knife, okay?” There was no recognition on your face, your eyes still wide and fixed, until Daryl’s hand gently closed over yours and started to open your hand around the handle of your knife. He could feel you shaking beneath his fingers. “S’alright,” he said softly as your eyes landed on his face and then locked with his. Your brow drew down low, casting a shadow over the vaguely confused look on your face. As Daryl gently took your knife, he could see there was a very deep gash in your palm. It was bleeding heavily. He guessed it was either another defensive wound from you putting your hands up to stop one of the men’s knives or otherwise your hand, slick with blood, had slipped down onto your own blade when you’d been fighting them. “Glenn, get some gauze out of my pack and bring it over here,” he said. He spoke calmly and softly. He glanced back over at Glenn when he didn’t move from his slack-jawed frozen position. “Glenn. Gauze.” Glenn snapped himself out of it and went to Daryl’s bag. The archer gulped and draped his poncho over you, covering your ripped shirt. “S’alright,” he murmured again.

You didn’t take your eyes off his face. He wasn’t even sure if you realized the others were there. Glenn walked forward and handed Daryl the small roll of sterile gauze before backing up slowly. The look in your eyes was haunted and dazed and it left all of them feeling empty and concerned.

Daryl opened your hand flat and your eyes drifted down to watch him wrap the bandage over the wound on your palm. You couldn’t feel it. You couldn’t really feel anything, except Daryl’s hands on yours.

Shane turned to Rick. “Rick, what the hell are we gonna do about this? We can’t just waltz her back into camp covered in blood. You don’t want the others seein’ this… Carl? Lori? Or Hershel. Look at her. She looks completely unstable. This might be enough for him to kick us out right now.” He looked back at you over his shoulder.

Rick sighed heavily. “So, we’ll get her cleaned up first.”

Daryl was keeping one ear on the conversation going on behind him. “She needs stitches on this hand,” he drawled. “And who knows how else she’s hurt. Can’t see a damn thing on her right now. And since ya’ll are more worried about yourselves than her, I’ll take care of it. Why don’t ya just get the hell outta here,” Daryl growled.

Glenn stepped forward. “We are worried about her. But you have to admit that this is—this is—” He didn’t even know what word to use. Daryl just stared at him. You were hugging your arms around yourself now, still shaking. Your eyes were downcast, staring unseeing at the ground.

“Listen, I don’t give a shit what ya do. I’m gettin’ her outta here and taken care of.” He hastily shouldered his pack and his crossbow.

“Just—Daryl,” Rick started, pinching the bridge of his nose, the situation weighing on him heavily. “Clean her up a bit before you take her to Hershel to be looked over.”

The archer eyed him through a narrow glare for a moment before he nodded. He turned back to you, your frame swallowed up in his poncho. “C’mon. Let’s get ya home,” he said gently. Your eyes snapped up to his face again and you allowed him to lead you back toward the farmstead.

He picked a path carefully and finally the two of you broke out from the edge of the forest. The others back in the camp were staring at the tree line, wracked with nerves. Lori straightened up as she recognized movement. “Dale—someone just stepped out.”

Dale, standing on the RV, raised his binoculars to his eyes. “Oh my,” slipped from his lips.

“What? Who is it?” Carol asked anxiously.

“I think it’s Y/N and Daryl,” Dale said. “I can’t quite tell properly, but I think something is wrong with Y/N.” He squinted into the binoculars again. “My God. Her jeans are covered in blood and it—it looks like there’s blood on her neck, her face…”

Carol pressed a hand over her mouth. “Is she hurt?” she asked anxiously. “Was she bit?”

Dale shook his head, lowering the binoculars again. “They’re too far. I can’t tell what’s going on.”

Daryl looked up to see everyone standing almost in a line watching the two of you as you started across the field. He gulped and then put a hand lightly on your back, nervous and unsure of how you would react to the contact. He guided you toward his camp which was closest and was set apart from everyone else’s.

“C’mon and sit down, alright. We’re just gonna clean ya up a bit and then take ya to Hershel.” The look in your eyes was worrying him immensely but you sat down on a round of wood pulled up near the fire ring. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip, trying to figure out how he could reassure you. “Hey. S’alright. You’re safe.”

You met his blue eyes and he finally saw some sense of relief in them. His stomach flipped at the way they softened and he nodded. He took in the sight of you in his poncho again and realized you’d need something else to wear to go see Hershel that wasn’t half ripped off you. “I’m gonna, uhh—” he cleared his throat nervously. “I’ll put a clean shirt out on my cot for ya. Ya can change in in my tent and then we’ll just clean ya up a bit, alright?” He knew better than to wait for a response and climbed to his feet and disappeared into his tent to set the clothes out. He dug around in his duffel bag until he found one that was still folded tightly, definitely clean, and he set it out for you. You watched the handsome archer reemerge from inside his tent and nod his head toward it. “Alright. Go ahead. I’ll just be right out here.”

He watched you get up and disappear, zipping the door behind you. He paced in front of the fire circle, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip thoughtfully as the image of you standing there in the woods, frozen, absolutely soaked in blood with your shirt half torn surged forward in his mind and he felt another sickening swell of anger. Jesus. Things could have gone so bad with those men… and they were fucking lucky they were already dead when he got there.

The soft rustling of the tent fabric interrupted his thoughts and you stepped out in his long-sleeved flannel, looking a bit dazed still but more grounded. He nudged his nose up in a nod. “C’mon and sit down,” he said, gesturing to the round of wood again. You sank down on it. Daryl grabbed a bucket of clean water that had been warming in the sun all day. He grabbed a cloth from inside his tent and caught sight of your bloody and torn shirt discarded on the floor, feeling another tight twist between his lungs, like someone had tugged a knot there.

You watched him kneel down in front of you and sink the cloth into the bucket of water, wringing it out before bringing it close to your face. He hesitated short of touching you. “S’this alright?” he drawled.

You gave him a questioning look but finally nodded, just one slight tip of your chin. You closed your eyes as the fabric came in contact with your cheek and Daryl started wiping away the blood. The cloth stained crimson quickly. He cleaned the splatters from across your forehead and your nose and the spots on the other side of your face. With the red stains gone, Daryl could see the shadow of a deep bruise along the side of your jaw. Without thinking he gently clasped your chin and turned your head so he could examine it, a heavy shadow falling over his blue eyes. He sunk the cloth back into the bucket of water and wrung it out again, this time pressing it to the side of your neck.

Despite how gentle he was being, you involuntarily sucked in a sharp hiss of air through your teeth as the cloth found the cut on the side of your neck from the leader’s knife. Your eyes blinked open through your wince.

“Sorry,” Daryl drawled, pulling back to look at the wound. “Jesus… Those assholes had a knife to your neck?” he asked. It was rhetorical and he didn’t expect an answer. He wiped at the blood spatter and you closed your eyes again, trying to breathe deeply and still the trembling you still felt wracking through you. Daryl could hear a shaky quality in your breathing. Soon, your face and neck were clean and Daryl turned his attention to your hands. Your eyes were still shut as he rinsed the cloth out again in the bucket. “Lemme see your hands,” he said softly. You found the deep gravel of his voice comforting.

Out of everyone in your group, you usually felt like Daryl was the only one who really saw you. You’d wanted to get to know him better, but held yourself back. He seemed to seek solitude like you did, and you didn’t want to force yourself into his world.

He took your hand, your palm resting against his, and he swept the cloth lightly over the back of it and down each finger. The sensation sent goosebumps rising on your skin and you glanced up at the concerned and intent expression on his face curiously. You couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had shown you so much attention and care. He took your other hand in his now, the one with gauze around it and the deep gash in your palm. He rubbed the blood from the back of each finger and then flipped it over in his hand. He frowned as he noticed that your blood had soaked through the bandage. “Probably need stitches on this one,” he murmured softly. The cloth tickled over the underside of each finger now, sweeping off the ends. “Alright. Push up them sleeves,” he said, dunking the cloth into the bucket again for what felt like the hundredth time.

“What?” He was startled by your voice and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He straightened up, one of his eyebrows quirking down at the question. “Ya had a buncha cuts on your arms. We need to clean ‘em up and check ‘em. See if ya need stitches anywhere else.”

You shook your head.

He gave you a questioning look for a long moment and chewed on his bottom lip. “Alright. Ya can do it. I’ll just go tell Hershel you’re on your way in, alright?”

You stared at him for another long moment as he set the cloth on the edge of the bucket, whose water was now stained a dark pink. You glanced up as he climbed to his feet and nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “C’mon up when you’re done and we’ll get that hand taken care of.”

Daryl started over toward the farmhouse and as he approached Carol rushed up to him. “What happened?” she urged him. “Are you okay? Is Y/N?”

He stopped, his hand on one hip. He glanced back out toward the trees and saw the rest of the group making their way back toward camp across the field. “‘M fine,” he drawled. “Y/N ran into some men out there when we were searchin’.”

“Men? What men? What happened? Is she alright?”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip and shrugged vaguely. “I don’t know how to—how to answer that,” he said truthfully.

Confusion muddled Carol’s expression and she glanced in the direction of you over at Daryl’s camp. “Well, what happened?” she asked again.

Daryl looked at her seriously and shrugged vaguely. “Y/N killed ‘em. Didn’t have no choice.” He continued his path up to the house and bounded up the porch steps, knocking on the front door. Carol stared after him, a bit shocked. Maggie answered, looking worried.

“Were those gun shots earlier?” she asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm… Hey, can your dad take a look at Y/N?”

“Of course. What happened?” she asked, holding the screen door open so he could step inside.

Hershel was there in an instant. “Daryl. What happened? We heard those shots.”

“Y/N and I were out lookin’ for Sophia. There were some men. She—she ran into some trouble.”

Hershel took a deep breath and nodded. “Is she alright?”

“I think she needs stitches in her hand. She took a good hit to her jaw too. Might have a concussion. I dunno,” he said. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip again. “I know she’s got some cuts on her arms, defensive wounds, but she wouldn’t let me look at ‘em. Got a cut on her neck.”

“Oh my God,” Maggie said, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“What happened to the men?” Hershel asked.

Daryl quit chewing the side of his thumbnail. “Dead,” he said, watching the old farmer’s reaction closely, but the man’s face was blank. He simply nodded.

“I’ll get my kit. Have her come on in.”

Daryl headed back onto the porch to see how you were doing and you were on your way over. His eyes caught on the dark splatters and stains of blood on your jeans and the slit at the bottom. His stomach twisted. Maybe he should have had you change clothes completely… You were trying to ignore the eyes on you as you made your way over to the house.

Andrea and Lori exchanged a look at the state of your clothes.

“Come on in here and sit down,” Hershel said kindly. “Let’s take a look at that hand.” You offered up your gauze-wrapped hand and Hershel laid it out on the table, unwrapping the already blood-soaked bandage and taking a look at the deep gash. “Pretty deep cut here. Definitely need stitches.” He grabbed a needle from his kit and pricked the end of each of your fingers. They all twitched in response. “You can feel that?” You nodded. “Good. Looks like we dodged any nerve damage. Much deeper and you would have needed major surgery for a cut tendon and who knows what else. Maggie, dear, would you get the sutures set up while I clean this off?”

Nerve damage. Cut tendon. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his spot leaned up against the wall. You hardly seemed to react to the news at all.

Hershel swabbed at your hand and you shut your eyes against the bite of the alcohol. “Now, Daryl tells me you took a good hit to the jaw. I’m just gonna check it and make sure nothing is broken.” He palpated both sides of your face, across your cheekbones and up your jawline. “Just a bit swollen,” he said. “Did you lose sight when you were hit?” he asked you, grabbing a small pen light and checking the dilation response of each of your pupils. You gulped and nodded. “Do you remember your name?” he asked you. You nodded again. “I need you to answer my questions verbally. I’m interested in your answers but also your speech.”

“My name’s Y/N.”

“When is your birthday?” Hershel asked.

You stared at him. “No one here knows my birthday. How will you know if I’m right or not?”

A small smile grew on Hershel’s face. “I’d say your speech and cognition are fine. Probably a mild concussion though with your eyesight blacking out. You’ll need to take it easy the next few days, rest and fluids, and let me know if you develop any new symptoms like vomiting or nausea, confusion, a worsening headache. Understand?”

You nodded again. “Yes. I understand.”

“Sutures are ready,” Maggie said.

Hershel put on a pair of clean gloves and prepared. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to numb you,” he said, propping your hand up on a towel so he could see it better.

“It’s alright. I would have told you to save it anyway,” you said. Daryl straightened up from his place against the wall and came to stand next to you. You could feel his eyes on your face.

“You’re one tough cookie,” Hershel said. “Let’s get this taken care of.” You hardly flinched as he passed the needle through…

Outside, Rick and the others were just arriving back at camp. Everyone gathered around and seemed to read on their faces that they were all unsettled.

“Rick,” Lori said, grabbing him into a hug. “What happened? We saw Daryl and Y/N come back. Her jeans were covered in blood.”

Rick looked down at her. “Nothing to worry about. It’s been taken care of.”

“Well, what was it?” Lori pressed him, her eyes still a bit wide and fearful.

Carol spoke up. “Daryl said she ran into some men and they’re—she killed them.”

Glenn and T were avoiding everyone’s eyes while Shane let out a frustrated sigh and paced away from the group, disagreeing with Rick still about the decision not to tell everyone you had clearly gone slasher on those assholes. Provoked or justified or not, Shane felt like that was something everyone should know. He’d gone far enough to describe you as a serial killer before Rick had stood him down. Rick nodded and looked at his wife and then at Andrea and Dale. “Y/N was attacked and she dealt with it. Hershel is gonna patch her up and there’s nothing to worry about.

“What if there are more of those men?” Carol asked fearfully.

“We only ever saw three different boot prints out there,” T reassured her. “But we’ll keep watch like we always do. We’ll be fine.”

Everyone still looked uneasy, but settled back into their tasks. Lori was about to go fetch some more water when Shane grabbed her arm and tugged her around the side of the SUV. She gave him a stern look and pulled her arm from his grasp.

“What?” she snapped at him, a bit unkindly.

“Rick ain’t tellin’ you everythin’,” he said.

Lori just stared Shane with a guarded expression. “I trust my husband. And you used to, too.”

“Yeah, well… What happened out there today? It should concern everyone.” His expression was dark and Lori felt her sense of unease grow.

Shane rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. “Y/N just—” Shane let out a sigh that had the edge of a growl to it.

“What are you talking about?” Lori pressed him in an undertone. “Are we in danger?”

Shane straightened up and pressed his lips into a thin line briefly before meeting her eyes. “Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m not taking my eyes off that girl.”

Inside, Hershel tied off the final stitch and snipped the suture. “All done.” He applied a layer of antibacterial ointment and wrapped your hand in a fresh dressing. “Try to keep it dry. And I mean it,” he gave you a pointed look, “take it easy for a few days. Daryl, you hold her to that. Anything else you need me to look at? Your arms? Daryl said—” You shook your head no. “Alright.”

The archer straightened up as you climbed to your feet. “Thank you,” you murmured to Hershel.

Daryl held the door for you and you cringed at how everyone’s eyes were on you immediately as you stepped out onto the porch. You avoided them and started heading in the direction of your camp. Daryl was still in step beside you and you hazarded a glance in his direction.

He could read a question in your eyes. “I’ll keep ya company for a bit if that’s alright... Besides, ya should be restin’ and somebody needs to make sure ya take care of yourself.” You didn’t say anything, but that also wasn’t a refusal. Daryl could tell you were still reeling a bit, and he wanted to be there just in case.

You arrived at your separate camp area and watched as Daryl immediately went and stirred up the coals in the fire, adding more wood and soon having a nice blaze going. You headed for your tent and glanced back over your shoulder at him. “Just gonna change,” you said softly. He nodded and went about heating something for you to eat along with water for tea. He was sure you had collected more ingredients and remembered that your bag was still sitting at his camp. He jogged to grab it and brought it back along with your bloodied and torn shirt, not sure what else to do with it. When he got back, you were sitting by the fire in clean and comfortable clothes, his shirt resting over your lap. You held it out to him as he dropped your pack beside you.

“Thanks,” he murmured. The fabric was still warm from your body. “Dunno what ya wanna do with this,” he said, holding yours out in turn.

You stared at it for a long moment before your fingers closed on it and Daryl watched as you immediately tossed it into the fire. In a moment, it was only ashes and embers. He sank down beside you and felt you studying him. He turned and met your eyes and was surprised when you spoke. “You aren’t afraid of me now? Like the others?” you asked softly.

“Nah. Why would I be?”

Your striking eyes focused back on the crackling campfire and the embers dancing upward on the warm torrent of air. “You saw what I did. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Daryl peered at you curiously for a long moment. “Ya were only protectin’ yourself. Can’t say I wouldn’t have done worse if I’d been there,” he drawled, and you could hear anger in the tension in his voice.

“I blacked out,” you said suddenly.

“When they hit ya? Ya, yer gonna have a good bruise tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You cradled your injured hand absently in the other. “The last thing I remember was the one starting to cut my jeans and then—then I was just covered in blood and they were all dead. And next thing I know you were taking my knife from me.” You shut your eyes for a moment. “I don’t remember anything else.”

Daryl considered the regretful expression on your face. “Don’t matter. Yer safe. That’s what counts. Those men? They had it comin’.”

You looked up at him in surprise and he simply nodded and then grabbed a mug and filled it with hot water for you. You accepted it and dug into your bag, pulling out the small sack of foraged herbs from the day. You dropped a few berries and leaves into your mug and cradled it with your uninjured hand.

It was nearly sunset and the quality of the light was cooling, oranges turning to reds and then fading into deep purples and inky blues. You allowed yourself to frequently study the archer as he shoved a bowl of reheated stew into your hands or added more wood to the fire. You felt surprisingly at ease with him there and he didn’t seem at all bothered by the passing of so much silence. Maybe the concussion just had you slightly numb, but you didn’t think so.

“You aren’t going to ask me?” you finally said.

Daryl looked over at you and he felt a stirring in his chest at the way the firelight was catching the shine and colors in your hair and the soft shape of your lips. “Ask ya what?”

“How I—Why I—” You didn’t even know how to phrase it really.

Daryl watched you struggled for a moment. “Ain’t none of my business. But if ya wanted to talk about it, I’ll listen. Not gonna lie and say I haven’t wondered about what came before ya were with the group.”

You had been on the verge of speaking it but suddenly lost your nerve and sipped at your tea again. Daryl watched you withdrawing again and rubbed a hand a bit nervously over the back of his neck. Darkness had fallen completely now. “Well, I’ll leave ya alone. Yer probably sick of me anyway,” he drawled. “Get some rest, alright?” Daryl had climbed to his feet and started to head in the direction of his own tent but your voice froze him.

“It’s not that I want to be alone all the time…” Daryl could hear the crackling of the fire in the silence that followed. “It’s just that alone usually feels safer.”

He glanced back at you, turning partially. “Ya. I know the feelin’,” he said gently, pacing back.

You looked up at him and something about your expression, your wide eyes, went straight to his core. “Stay,” you said quietly. “Please.” You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment. “Being with you feels safer…” you admitted, timidly.

Daryl felt an ache in his chest and nodded. He grabbed a seat beside you again and puzzled over this unprecedented turn of events.

You seemed to come to some decision suddenly and looked over at him intensely. He caught your eyes briefly and then watched as you pushed up your right sleeve. At first all he saw were the knife cuts, crimson against your skin, but you turned your forearm toward him in the firelight. “This is what I didn’t want you to see,” you said. You gulped. You’d never told anyone, never shown anyone, literally never talked about what had happened to you since you got out. You’d vowed that you would just move on, but the longer you suffered in silence the worse it seemed to get, until you felt like it would consume you. And then today, with those men, you’d just completely lost it. It had triggered something, a memory or maybe more like a nightmare, and when you came to you were bathed in blood and didn’t even recognize yourself, couldn’t believe what you’d done. Enough was enough. Maybe if you spoke it, admitted it, dealt with it in some way… maybe it’d get easier.

Daryl stared at a scar on your forearm. It looked like a brand and the skin was still slightly pink, showing that it wasn’t that old. It was four numbers. 1048.

[widow-maximov]

Whole again

Pairing: Wanda x Fem Reader, Natasha x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, angst, fluff

Summary: Y/n never had an easy life in every aspect of life, finding love again but being betrayed is the worse feeling...

Word count: 4.7K

Tag-list: @diaryoflife

(If you want to join my tag list, click here and enjoy my future posts :3)

⸻⸻⋙🗲⋘⸻⸻

Life couldn't be better at the moment, in your whole life you have always been pushed, not only by the Avengers but by your parents are well.

They always wanted the best for you and you did the best you could but it never was enough so you simply moved away from them when you turned 18, it was hard living alone, working somewhere that only paid for your rent and bills but never left you enough for food.

When you joined the Avengers, you instantly felt the difference here, food was always here and you never had to worry about not having enough. Everyone was accepting, especially Wanda.

The two of you got along quite quickly, she shared some interest you did and visa versa.

It was perfect, she always listened to you and reassured you that you always did your best, it was amazing being with Wanda. You felt safe around her and she always held you with so much love that it made you feel useful.

You loved her and each day spent with her, made you fall for the witch deeper, little did you know she did as well. She loved listening to you talk about your childhood, and how bravely you would overcome struggles.

She loved everything about you, from the way you would stick your tongue out when you couldn't get something right to little snorting that came out when you were very tired.

She adored you in secret and you did the same, you were always amazed by her powers, the way she would always find new ways to improve them or find out more about them. The way she would pay to every detail of every mission you told her.

The questioning that followed after, made your heart melt at how much she cared. She always wanted to be near you and hold you tight in her arms, this only worsen when the two of you have gotten together.

The dates would be amazing, she was really romantic and you would be hopelessly in love with everything she did for you. You would shower her with gifts and always be there for her whenever she had a rough night.

For some people being with one person for a long time is boring but for you it wasn't. You felt that you were always learning new things about Wanda, from the way she would tilt her head to the side slightly when you made a teasing comment.

~~~~~

Sitting in a meeting full with your teammates and unable to contain your desires is the worse feeling. Your powers are similar to Wanda's but only with the telekinesis part, the rest you just have to reply on your fighting skills.

You looked over to Wanda who was opposite you, she was too focused on what the meeting was about, rather than looking at you. You looked down at the papers in front of you and smirked, as you gotten inside her head and spoke.

"Would you like to do this?" You asked as you showed her an image of Wanda being pressed against the wall and your face pressed against her core.

She looked at you as soon as that image disappeared with wide eyes "or this?" You showed her another image, a lot more filthier than the one before.

When she came out of it, you could sense the confusion and the lust coming off her "We are in the middle of a meeting!" Her voice found itself in your head.

You smirked slightly at her and spoke back "So?"

"So? How can you expect me to concentrate on what they are talking about"

The way your eyes darken as you looked at her lips "I don't, I want you to focus on me and the way you'll be a mess after"

Her head tilted to the side with a small smirk across her face as she looked away from you and at the person who was at the front. You looked around and no one even noticed that the two of you had a whole ass conversation in your head.

~~~~~

To the way she would hide her face in the crook of your neck when she was embarrassed.

~~~~~

It has been a month since Wanda went on a mission, she was suppose to come back today, they were on a stake out to watch a hydra base, it was a successful mission but the only drawback was the fact that she was away for so long.

You kept yourself occupied and that was mainly with missions that required a lot of brainstorming, so when you heard that Wanda was coming back, you decided to prepare something for her.

You prepared everything for a warm bath and even went out of the way to get her favourite chocolate that she always loves to eat, along with that, nice dinner so after she is done she can eat proper food.

You sent her a message saying to shower and meet you in the room the both of you accidently found, that practically no one visited, obviously there was a little note with your clothes that she always loved wearing.

She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms, but agreed to your message because it doesn't matter where she falls asleep as long as it is next to you she was more than happy.

When she walked in to all of the things you did for her, she was blooming with happiness, she held her hands close to her chest as a smile spread across her. She went through everything you listed in the note, and when she made it to the room, it was something she wouldn't expect.

You might not have been the best at showing your love but you learnt and tried your best, so you stood there with everything prepared for her and the way her heart would beat so fast just at the sight of you surrounded by the little lights.

She walked over to you as she took a proper look this time at the things inside, you smiled as you opened your arms for her and she took the hug without hesitation, she pulled away and without letting you say anything, she kissed you.

At the contact of your lips, a small moan escaped her mouth, causing you to raise your eyebrows at her and pulling away "Did you just... moan?"

Her cheeks turned a red colour so fast, she manged to giggle and hide her face in the crook of your neck "Shut up, it has been a month.."

You laughed and smiled as you tighten your embrace around her and allowed yourself to enjoy this.

~~~~~

But that all changed.. The day Vision was introduced to the team, he was connected to her by the stone the way you would never be connected, the way she would always spend her time with him instead of you.

The way she would listen to his story and never ask about yours, always avoiding you and your way of showing her your love, she would scold you for touching her, even if that was simply walking past her and your shoulders would brush.

It was difficult keeping this from the team, they loved you, like literally adored you, you always were the one to check up on everyone who went out on a mission. If anyone was injured even a little scratch you would always offer to help them in any way they want.

Everyone appreciated you and when they found out you found someone who claimed to love you in a different way they did... They were excited and happy for you, which meant they would always be up your business and Wanda's.

They grown to love Wanda as well, she was harmless and shy but you wouldn't want to be on her bad side, though some don't really care whether she was powerful, they would easily knock her out.

Today was movie night, the whole team sat on the huge couch Natasha on your left whilst your right side was empty, that would be Wanda's side, she wasn't here which didn't really concern you.

She was always late or sometimes didn't come but she promised to be here with you today, yet she wasn't coming. There was a gut feeling that something wasn't right yet you couldn't just walk out as Tony wanted to show you some things during this time so you stayed.

You tried your best to pay attention but it failed so when the movie was over, you stood up quickly and made your way to find Wanda, you rounded the corner and when you gotten closer to your shared bedroom, the noises only gotten louder you gulped as you opened the door carefully.

It was like a horror movie, you opening the door as if there would be a monster behind it, but this was much worse than any monster. If heartbreak had a sound, you would be definitely heard. You stood there taking in what is in front of you, Wanda and Vision in the bed you shared with Wanda before.

He was on top of her and she was a mess riddled with pleasure, it doesn't take any idiot to understand what they were doing, with so much pain in your heart, you walked out of that room and walked back to your room.

The stiffness in your walking was obvious that you was hurt, that's how anyone who knew you for a long time would know you were hurt. You knew this was the end of your relationship with Wanda..

The worse part is that this has happened before, not with Wanda but with someone else you dated, Wanda promised you that she would never do anything like that when you opened up to her.

You yet again failed your own promise, the promise that you would never let anyone in but yet that witch did something to you and you fell for her.

And here you are, sitting against the door as you muffle your sobs with your hands, you were so glad to have picked a room far away from the others so no one could hear you.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

You seemed to create a schedule to be out of the way of everyone, making sure no one saw you or even tried to bother you but you did clash with someone eventually and the way you would pretend, made no one question if you were hurt or not.

No one would notice, they just thought it was you being you. Good that you had a habit of avoiding people from time to time when things were overwhelming so no one questioned it.

You thought no one noticed your strange behaviour but you were wrong, Natasha did. She was a spy after all so analysing people was like walking, easy and smooth and she gotten so used to it she forgets she even does it.

She caught on the times you went to the gym where you would spend all of your day, you would avoid everyone including Wanda. You didn't even know she was on a mission for 6 months so your avoiding was pointless, she wouldn't even notice your absence.

You was in the gym, assaulting the punching bag as if it took everything away from you. You punched it with so much energy, you were kind of surprised it didn't come off the ceiling.

Natasha stood there, staring at you as you threw such powerful punches. It was odd how you looked so emotionless when you would practically made the bag look so weak. She did what she thought would make you talk, she walked over as she made herself known with her clearing her throat.

Your looked over your shoulder and relaxed when you noticed it was Natasha "Sorry, did you book today? I thought it was clear for today"

She shook her head as she walked closer towards you "No I didn’t, usually it’s empty..- Actually do you want to spar with me?"

You faced her now as you took a sip of your water and nodded, usually you would just be here alone and no one bothered you but since she was already here, you might as well, the two of you made it inside the ring and took your poses, she was rested and less of a mess than you, you was exhausted from no sleep and constant nightmares so you were no match for her.

With one move, you was down as she pinned you down and hovered above you, you tried with every strength in your body to move from her grip but you had no chance.

"What happened Y/n?" She asked with seriousness in her tone.

You tried your luck again to free yourself "Nothing"

"I can get Wanda to do this for me" She bluntly spoke as she watched your reaction.

Your eyes widen at her words "No, I don't want her here"

Natasha let you go as she sat down next to you but you just laid there, you knew she will question to why suddenly you don't want to be around the witch.

"Why?" Was the only word that came out from the Russian.

You shook your head as you tried to erase the embedded scene "No"

Natasha narrowed her eyes at you "What do you mean no? Why can't Wanda be here Y/n?"

You covered your face with your hand as you took a deep breath, feeling the tears form in your eyes "She cheated"

Natasha's eyes widen at your words, the feeling of range building up, she knew Wanda was suppose to go on a mission today so she will be able to catch her "With who?"

"Vision" You managed to choke out as sobs were threatening to spill out of your mouth.

Natasha felt so angry, the fact that Wanda was capable of doing something so horrible to you and she was so close to getting up and making sure that Wanda gets knocked into the next universe for what she did but when a sob came out of your mouth, she was quick to forget what she would do but quickly pulled herself near you and held you as you cried in her shoulder.

Natasha was your true friend but for Natasha you was more than a friend for her. She was deeply in love with you and when she heard that you are dating Wanda, she was heart broken. She started to slowly distance herself and hoped you would notice but Wanda was occupying your head for you to even notice Natasha missing, well at least that what the redhead thought.

She loved everything about you, from the way your eyes would sparkle at the mention of a new movie that was coming out to how you would drink too much and sing bunch of songs that didn't even make sense.

She loved you but you never felt the same even if she could swear to herself that you did feel something for her but she convinced herself she was just seeing things, she wanted to believe that you would fall for her the way she fell for you but that didn't happen so she had to live with herself and these feelings.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

She took you to your room so you could rest and made her way towards Wanda, she was in your old bedroom acting as if nothing happened, she didn't even care that you wasn't here, actually she was happy you didn't bother her.

Natasha marched inside as she could feel her anger boiling over, and when her gaze met Wanda's she couldn't control herself "What the fuck is wrong with you!"

The way Wanda's eyebrows raised as if she didn't know what the Russian was talking about "Are you okay Natasha?"

"You try to seem so innocent and shy but you are a fucking liar and the worst person in the planet!" Natasha raised her voice as she pointed towards Wanda.

She stood up as she looked at the spy with shock "What the hell are talking about!"

Natasha scoffed "Please, keep pretending but I know what you did with Vision"

The Sokovian's face fell as she heard those words "What do you know?"

The Russian rolled her eyes at the witch "How much you fucked up the only good thing you had in your pathetic life"

"You can't tell Y/n.."

The redheads eye's narrowed "She already knows.."

The gasp wasn't a shocked one but more of a surprised one, why didn't you say anything? She had to find out, so she did what was on her mind but Natasha moved in her direction.

"You won't disturb her, you will go on your mission and leave Y/n alone"

Just as Wanda was going to protest, she was alerted that she had to go, she was the only way this mission would be successful. She barged past Natasha as she left for the mission, in hopes that when she comes back, she will finally talk to you about the subject she should've voiced way before.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

The past 2 months have been hard on you, you tried to not drag Natasha into this but she was there regardless of your attempts. You even somehow ended up sleeping in her room because your nightmares have gotten worse, she reassured you that you were safe.

~~~~~

Natasha couldn't sleep, she decided to go through some work reports, hoping that will make her somehow sleepy and she would be able to finally get some rest.

Her eyes darted up at you and her expression softened at you and the way you was snoring, you passed out on the couch watching a movie so Natasha took you into her room and tucked you into her bed, she decided to grab bottle of water and some more files.

When she walked out, as if her present kept you at bay, your nightmares started to wake you up, the second they got heavy you jumped up so still as your eyes went wide, looking ahead of you slowly registering where you are.

Natasha walked through the door with everything but when she noticed the fear in your eyes, she rushed to you and at her touch you relaxed, the way her strong arms held you as you hugged into her, your breath steadied as Natasha rubbed your back in soothing motions.

Your head rested on her shoulder and wiped the fallen tear from your face, there was silence, for Natasha it was comfortable silence but for you it was embarrassing, she had to witness you in this state.

You unglued yourself from her as you covered your face "I'm sorry you had to witness that"

She shook her head as she gently grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face "You have nothing to be sorry for, красивая (beautiful). This is a normal thing that people experience so don't be sorry"

You looked at her as tears filled your eyes and with a sad smile you spoke "Well then I'm glad it's you who is by my side through this"

Natasha smiled as she pulled you into a hug and the both of you decided to finally sleep, she was your safe haven from nightmares.

~~~~~

When she had her nightmares, you were there even if you were suffering.

~~~~~

Natasha went to bed earlier than usual and you not waking to disturb her as she slept so lightly, you decided to just go back to your room and try sleeping there.

Aside from your nightmares sometimes you was able to sleep through the night without constantly jumping, you tried to do something to occupy your mind, even ended up sitting by the window as you stared out in the stares just in hopes that it would make you sleepy.

You took a deep breath and walked towards the kitchen, you opened the fridge and took the cold water, taking a sip as shivers ran through your body, you turned around and started to walk towards your room again.

You stopped at Natasha's door, pressed your ear against it to listen. Maybe she was awake? but there was no movement so you sighed and slowly opened the door.

Making your way inside, as you see Natasha sitting in the middle of the bed, with her head resting on top her knees, she looked so small and fragile, you placed your water down and quickly made your way to her.

Your arms found themselves around her as she so easily fell into you, her face covered in trails of tears causing unsteady breathes to escape her mouth.

"It's okay Natty.. I'm here" You tried your best to reassure her as you whispered.

She loved your voice and each time it worked to calm her so she just nodded as she let her arms snake around you, gripping onto your shirt.

Your hand played with her hair as your free hand was placed firmly against her so you could tighten your embrace around her "I'm sorry"

You smiled sadly at her as she looked up at you when she spoke "There is nothing to apologise for, I am more than happy to be here for you"

She shook her head "This shouldn't be about me Y/n/n, you are the one with the most painful pain here"

You cupped her face as you stared into her eyes "You are just as important as my pain Natty.. Please don't say that"

A tear rolled down her face, you wiped it with your thumb and kissed her forehead and pulled her into you again "You are important Nat, don't tell yourself otherwise.."

No matter how much you wanted to break down from the pain in your heart, but you kept yourself together for her because in this moment she needs you and you were happy to do that...

~~~~~

Natasha never wanted anything back for what she did for you, she did it because she still very much loved you, she would even jump in front of a speeding car if you told her to, because being away from you pained her more than watching you fall in love with someone else.

After those 2 months you finally gotten a grip on your life, you started to heal and having someone near you only helped you heal faster, Wanda wasn't around but her walking microwave was, he would observe you and what you did.

So far for the past 4 months, you did pretty good, you seem to smile more often than at the start, you started to feel normal again and that was all because of Natasha, she stuck beside you at your worst and you wouldn't want it any other way.

Right now it was one of Tony's parties, you weren't so much in the mood for one but Natasha being here was more than motivating, so you attended.

Wearing one of the dresses you never had the chance to use, with some minimal make up, finally feeling good about yourself, so you made your way towards where the party was held. The first person you searched for in the crowd was Natasha and with ease you located her near the bar.

You made your way towards her as she slid over a drink that she prepared, you eyed the drink "How did you know what I like"

She shrugged as she sipped hers "I'm very observant"

You smiled widely as you took the drink and sipped on it as well, she was watching you, turning her body towards you "How are you?"

The tone she used wasn't something she used with everyone, you knew the meaning behind it "Definitely better now.. What about you?"

She shrugged once again as she looked down "I'm not sure actually"

You placed the drink as you grabbed her hand "It's okay to not know. You know you can talk to me, right?"

She looked up as her eyes locked with yours and she nodded bringing a smile upon your lips "Great, now drink that and let's go dance, before you turn into a grandma"

She raised her eyebrow "Grandma? Are you trying-"

"Sorry! I can't hear you, the music is too loud!" You shouted over her as she shook her head with a playful smile as she drank the rest of her drink.

You was already done with yours so as soon as she placed the glass down, the hand you held from earlier, you pulled towards the dance floor, feeling the burning sensation in your throat as alcohol made it's way into your blood.

Both of you danced for so long until you started to feel sober again, Natasha never left your side since she knew how you were when you drank, a little of alcohol made you so brave that she feared you might accidently punch someone.

You went to the bar alone, Natasha had clear sight of you but she was distracted with dancing as she waited for you. You knew this night was too good to be true, especially when you forgot that Wanda would be back today.

You didn't even notice the witch until she aggressively tapped your shoulder, making your head whip towards her and your eyes widen at her angry face.

"What do you think you're doing?" She questioned you as if you were suppose to be scared.

You rolled your eyes and ignored her as you continued to wait for your drink but she grabbed your shoulder and span you to face her, angering her more.

"What do you want?" You asked so unbothered by her presence.

"When did you start acting like a slut, Y/n?"

You raised your eyebrows at her, the way those words easily slipped out of her mouth "I'm acting like a slut? I am waiting for my drink and you are disturbing me"

She rolled her eyes, she felt her powers pumping inside her veins "You are the only person here, all over all those women"

You looked around to see what women she was talking about "What women? I was just dancing with Nata-" You paused "I don't have to explain myself to you, now leave me alone"

"Yes you do! You definitely need to tell me why you are all over Natasha? Are you sleeping with her?"

It was started to irritate you, she didn't care about you so many months ago and suddenly when things get better, she takes an interest, it's like her life goal is to destroy your happiness.

"You have to be joking right now.." You scoffed as you stared at her with so much disbelief across your face.

"Yes we sleep together, in the same bed! As she fucking helps me through my nightmares you gave me!" You poked her chest as you raised your voice at her.

"You think I will believe you? I seen the way you look at her Y/n-!"

You grabbed her hand as you showed her what you dream off, each night. Jumping up in fear and sweat as tears roll down your face and how each time those nightmares get worse, seeing how Wanda betrayed you over and over again and you were forced to see it, enduring more pain than it is healthy.

You let go of her hand as she finally looked at you but with a different emotion; guilt.

You scoffed as you walked away that's when Natasha noticed you was gone for too long, her gaze caught you walking away towards the elevators away from Wanda, she felt the anger in her raise but you were more important than dealing with Wanda.

You made your way towards the kitchen, as you wiped the runny make up down your face, using the reflecting bit of the coffee maker to see where the make up was ruined.

Suddenly a voice spoke up from behind you "How did you think that would end?"

It wasn't the voice you would expect to hear, you straighten yourself as you swiftly turned towards Vision "Are you as stupid as Wanda, I left to be left alone so why are you here?"

Your tone didn't faze him "Wanda never really loved you Y/n"

You rolled your eyes "Look you walking fridge, I don't give two shits what Wanda felt or not, I care about you leaving me the fuck alone before you regret it"

He stood there completely still, no emotions displayed "Did you think Wanda would love someone so simple, she has a connection with me through the mind stone but with you? Nothing"

You wanted to be angry but you knew this is why she left you, she had that connection with him that you could never understand, he laughed at your reaction "See, pathetic little girl who can't even get over the fact that she left"

"You never was enough. I am so much more better than you-" His sudden stop to his words, made you look up.

"If you don't leave this room, I swear the only thing that will be left is that stupid gem from your stupid head"

He raised his arms up as the gun was pointed at his head, Natasha might've drank a little too much, then again she doesn't exactly gets drunk, she is Russian and Russians are really hard to get drunk.

"Now leave" It was a demand that fell from the redheads mouth, he nodded and stepped out of the kitchen and left. He knew better than to start a war with the former assassin.

She placed her gun down as she rushed towards you and without a word just hugged you, you took a deep breath "Thank you.."

She pulled away slightly as she looked worryingly into your eyes "Whatever he said, it's not true-"

"Natty, there is no need to sugar coat it anymore" The smile that was spread across your lips wasn't as sad as it was before "She left me because I just wasn't what she wanted in the end, she might've left me in a horrible way but it's okay"

The Russian shook her head as she cupped your face with both of her hands as tears of her own dropped "You are just perfect, she made a horrible mistake"

You bought your hand to wipe her tears "Maybe, but that's her problem now and I couldn't be happier with where I am and who I am surrounded by"

She smiled as she pulled you into her, letting out a breath she was holding back, you always seem to have that effect on her whenever your face would be too close to hers.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

Another 6 months went by so quickly, and you seem to be closer to Natasha than before. She trained you and you in return showed her what fun tricks you can do with your mind.

She was amused by you but also annoyed each time she would place something and it suddenly it was gone. The team soon started to snoop around your business as they noticed Wanda no longer being all over you.

You told the team and they were more than understanding, respecting your wishes or else they would know what Natasha's fist tastes like.

You noticed how much you grew fond of the feeling for Natasha, you seen her in a whole different light and if you were honest you actually really liked it.

You could've promised yourself that you would never want to be with someone again but you knew that this is a whole lie and the more you spend your time with Natasha the stronger you felt towards her.

You could pinpoint the exact moment you realised that what you felt wasn't friendly but more romantic

~~~~~

You always loved cooking as a way to relax and that's what you were doing today, Natasha was against cooking, she wanted to do her reports but you managed to convince her with your famous cookies.

The mission the both of you attended was tense but not as hard as others so a little cooking couldn't hurt anyone, you looked at Natasha who just sat there as she leaned on her hands.

"You could help me instead of being a weirdo and just staring" You spoke as you eyed her from what you were doing.

She chuckled as she protested "I was told to accompany you not be your elf"

You raised your brows at her "Elf? it's not Christmas season just yet darling"

If you were silent enough you could've heard Natasha's heart skip a beat at the nickname you used, she just stared at you with a smile so you continued not realising her obvious staring "Plus elf's are cute and very useful so more your ass and help me if you want some of these cookies"

She rolled her eyes playfully as she made her way towards you, you handed her some ingredients to mix together as you did your part as well.

She stood there, mixing it as her muscles flexed catching your eye once or twice... or all the time. You tried your best to keep your focus on what you were doing and finally when she was finished, she pushed the bowl towards you without saying anything.

You looked at her and the smile that was spread across her lips was the most innocent smile anyone could witness. Sometimes Natasha manages to act like a child just to impress you and it did work most of the time.

You smirked as you took your finger and dipped it into the melted chocolate and with one swift motion you rubbed it onto her face, her mouth fell open as you started to giggle at her.

She frown at you but failed to act upset as your giggles made her smile, so she did what she thought was payback and took some of the chocolate as she rubbed it on your cheek.

You looked at her when you suddenly stopped laughing "Okay, okay, I deserved that"

You tried to wiped the chocolate away but she stopped you and looked into your eyes, the sense of innocence was gone "Let me get it for you"

When her face moved closed to your cheek, you froze and then you felt her tongue on your cheek as she licked off the chocolate she just wiped on you, when she moved away and hummed at the deliciousness, your eyes were slightly wider as you stared at her.

This feeling wasn't friendly and definitely not innocent

~~~~~

You was sitting next to Natasha on the couch, with your head on her shoulder as she scrolled down her phone to bunch of 10 second videos of cats. You planned to ask Natasha out for a walk later in the day to finally talk to her but the thought of planning what you were going to say to her was interrupted.

"Sorry Y/n, can I quickly talk to you?" Wanda spoke up as she stood couple feet away from the couch.

You felt Natasha tense which made you look at her and nod slightly to let her know it's okay, she relaxed and smiled at you but her narrowed eyes came back as soon as it landed on Wanda.

"Sure" You spoke with just one word as the two of you made your way towards the kitchen, far enough from Natasha's hearing range.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, I just wanted to apologise.."

You took a deep breath, thinking it will be one of those scenes where the ex begs to get back but she held her hand up as she spoke before you could "I'm not here to 'beg' you to come back to me, I just wanted to say that I am really sorry how things turned out"

"I had a lot of time to think about what you showed me and I didn't realise the pain I had in flicked on you by doing what I did. It was a mistake with how I handled it and I am sorry"

You took a deep breath, this is all you wanted from her and in the end she finally understood her wrong "Like I said, I'm not here to beg you because I did fall out of love with you and nothing has changed since that time but I just wanted to say I'm sorry Y/n"

You would be lying if you said it didn't hurt, because you used to love her with your whole being but at the same time, you didn't love her like that anymore, someone else owned your heart and you were more than happy to gift it to them.

You nodded with a smile across your lips "I know Wanda, Thank you for this"

She nodded as she looked past you at Natasha "I'm just glad you were able to fall in love again.."

You looked where she was looking and smiled widely to yourself as you whispered "I know.."

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

You dragged Natasha along with you by her hand, she wanted to stay inside as it was cold but of course to managed to convince her, she of course said she would blame you if she gotten sick and you promised to be there for her if she was.

You pulled her towards this tall bridge that had a little pond beneath it, it was covered in ice which was more beautiful, the way the lights would light up the darkness and that's exactly how you felt with Natasha.

You stood in the middle of the bridge, smiling widely as Natasha's cheeks were slightly pink "Why are you smiling so much?"

The smile across of your lips never left as you answered her "Because Tasha! Look around it's beautiful"

She kept her gaze on you as you looked around "I agree with you" she didn't care about anything else but you in this moment admiring the beautiful of the world whilst her world stood right in front of her.

"Well why are we here?" She asked curious to why you wanted to drag her out here.

You took a deep breath and finally looked into her emerald eyes, taking in her warm hand "I brought you here so I can tell you something important-"

She whined "You could've told me in the warmth of my bedroom"

You rolled your eyes "No, no I could not have"

"Fine, okay.. Tell me" She sighed with a small smile.

"Natasha, where do I start... You have changed so much in my life and I really hope this will change a lot of things for good"

She looked confused at you as her heart started to beat fast in her chest and you continued "I never thought I could get over what has happened but you made it so much more easier which is what made me fall in love with you"

"You have been nothing but amazing to me and I regret not seeing how strongly I feel about you. Because of you Tasha, I am whole again and-"

Before you could continue, Natasha pulled your face into hers as she smashed her lips against yours, the way her lips moved against yours made you feel so loved and happy.

She pulled away with the biggest smile as she pressed her forehead against yours "I had always loved you медовый (honey) and I would've done anything you told me even if that meant staying away"

You sighed at her words "I don't want you to stay away"

Natasha smiled with so much love "Good, I couldn't even if I wanted to"

You pulled her in for a kiss but before actually kissing her you whispered "I love you too Natty" and finally allowed yourself to kiss Natasha with the same love as she was giving you.

[cherrylgc]

lgcareum

" as if i can afford to sleep these days, " areum snorts, only half-joking. it's not exactly true, areum's pretty sure she's keeping up. pretty sure, at least. then again, she still hears the lingering echoes of not enough, never enough after future dreams ... thoughts of inadequacy that have followed her throughout her time at legacy, and never quite going away. she's getting better about it, or at least she keeps saying she is – whether or not she actually is ... well, that's another question for another day. " i'm just going over some pronunciations before i go to bed ... " she says, her head quirking to the side as she considers what she's written down again. she promptly scribbles it out again, and rewrites – content with what she's written this time. " practice, this late ? " areum asks, eyes flicking to the digital clock flashing with a bright red am rather than pm, night already turning into morning without her noticing. that wasn't exactly like cherry. don't get her wrong, her girlfriend was talented – areum could sing the other woman's praises for hours ... but working this late wasn't exactly typical for her. " did you take warm bath ? or maybe use some warm compresses ? that's what i've usually done, with muscle aches ... " areum comments, setting her pen down and propping her head up with one hand. she frowns. " i'm doing fine, " areum says; it's not a complete lie. she is, she's doing fine. but for some reason, areum's pretty sure this conversation shouldn't be about her. " are you sure you're okay, cherry ? " she asks, instead of elaborating. " i know when i was in team unknown, it was ... hard, to say the least, " she says, a short chuckle at the understatement. " but you ... sound discouraged ... " areum comments, losing her smile. " that's not like you. " she points out. " you know you can be honest with me. "

it’s been a while since cherry has had so much problems with falling asleep. when she moved out at eighteen and left her parents behind, sleep could be difficult, it was weird knowing she was all alone in her apartment, and the feeling of missing her parents made her heart ache. but time had passed, she got over it, not seeing her parents anymore, she learned to sleep peacefully again. cherry was quick to fall asleep, but lately she wasn’t, she was twisting and turning, scrolling on her phone to distract herself. sometimes she wanted to call her dad, hear his voice now that he was back in her life, but she didn’t want to brother him. one person though, who always made cherry feel like she couldn’t bother her, was areum.

“sleep is important” which is as much said to areum as it is said to herself. “i’d like to help you with japanese, but i barely know korean and english” she chuckles, “are they really still making you practice japanese? you’ve been doing it since almost the start of team unknown, haven’t you?”. cherry knows, if there’s one thing she wishes legacy won’t put upon her, it’s learning languages, she already knows english and korean, and she’s pretty sure there isn’t space in her head for more languages.

“i’m not… used to practice so late, it’s a struggle, i have to practice late to keep up with the others on the team, i’m a slow learner” she turns “but i don’t get enough sleep because i practice till so late” she sighs. “a coach told me i’ll get used to sleeping less, but if i’m truthful, not sure if i want to get used to it, i like sleeping” she hums. “i’m” she takes in a breath “it’s hard areum”. “i know i always say being positive is the most important, but i have to find time for school, and i have to practice harder than i’ve ever done before, i don’t get enough sleep, and i forget to eat” she sucks in a breath. “i don’t know what to do” the tears press on “i wanna stay positive, but i’m in pain and tired”.

[chateautae]

saudade | kth. (m)

saudade ; “a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something/someone that one cares for and/or loves.”

➵ summary : a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.

➵ pairing : idol!taehyung x choreographer!reader

➵ genre : angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 16k

➵ warnings : sexual content, swearing, dom + sub dynamics, dom!tae, fingering, oral (f. receiving), lots of dirty talk, t e a s i n g because let’s face it this is tae, big dick!tae, cock sliding, marking, restraint (with his own hands), unprotected sex (wrap it up peeps), rough sex, mushy i miss you sex, lots of feels, tae undresses reader (it’s hot i promise), praising, name kink, slight body worshipping, slight brat-handling, forced orgasm, creampie, one spank, tiny impreg kink, aftercare

➵ a/n : wow, my first fic on tumblr!! i’m beyond excited to finally be sharing my stories and writing, hopefully i can let you escape into a whole new world and enjoy my works! comments and feedback are always appreciated <3

2:27AM. 

He still wasn't home. 

Texts on delivered, calls unanswered, radio silence on all social media. 

And it wasn’t just tonight, it was every night. 

Everyday. 

And it’s been a month. A long, grueling month.

A month where he only acknowledged your presence just once and called it a day. A month where he returned so late and left early enough the following morning you didn't see him. Somedays, he never even came home at all. You made suggestions to hang out together, and he declined them on the premise of 'too busy'. 

It hurt beyond comprehension. 

It's like he wasn't even there.

But you knew he was. 

He was the one who moved your sleeping body from the couch to your shared bed every night, a sweet gesture of his that gave you hope maybe everything wasn't so bad. Sometimes, though, you woke up on the same couch the next morning, knowing he most likely stayed the night elsewhere. 

You tried to remain indifferent to the treatment, figuring he was just stressed with his tightly-packed schedule that didn't always include you. 

But it was beginning to feel heart-breaking, disappointing, but most of all, so lonely. It was starting to feel like he was slipping away from you, like you were losing him, relationship tearing at the seams. It left you nothing but heartbroken and afraid. Afraid of where your relationship had gone, afraid of whatever happened to the never-ending love you two shared. You both harboured an array of feelings for one another that infinitely tethered you two together, kept you madly in love and nearly impossible to separate.  

So where was that now? How could it have all changed within the span of a month? 

You’ve survived comebacks with him before and he never entertained this kind of behaviour. Maybe you had a fight or two about someone cancelling on a plan or working too hard but nothing as excruciating as this. 

Your relationship began to feel empty, so meaningless. And the more he was distant, the stronger the pain grew and your love seemed to be losing its vitality.

Why would he do this? What's gotten into him? Did I do something wrong? Why doesn't he care anymore? you asked yourself repeatedly for weeks.

You’d think work was the issue, where your relationship had to be purposefully low-profile and subdued. But ever since the inception of your relationship, Taehyung never found any of that difficult. If anything, he loved it the most. You could easily leave it to the 'forbidden’ or 'looked down upon' stigma of you two dating to make everything 100x hotter, more exciting, and fuck, did you and especially Taehyung enjoy fiddling around with the concept as if you were some modern-day remake of Romeo and Juliet. 

The sneaking around, the thrill of moments only you two shared, the promises you kept, the secret kissing or displays of affection, your romantic status like classified information some were only privy to. 

But you didn't have to worry about suddenly losing your 'Romeo', though, because Taehyung wasn't as stupid as he was (no offence, Shakespeare). 

Taehyung remained business-like whenever he needed to be and tended to his work accordingly. He was always cautious of the consequences your relationship warranted, and worked hard to prove your love was worth it despite his chaotic life and the challenges everyone warned you of. 

Taehyung has also always been mischievous, a little rebellious, someone who doesn't always like following whatever he's told; so this relationship was just his cup of tea, making it hard to believe he would grow tired of it considering his well-precedented admiration. 

But now, you weren’t so sure. 

Now he seemed practically devoid of the fact that you two were even dating. He didn’t naturally gravitate towards you anymore like before, instead increasingly gravitating away from you. He didn't linger around to catch a moment with you anymore, didn't come looking for you, didn't spark conversation whether it was important or not, even stopped looking at you as a whole. It seemed like being in your presence was something he avoided rather than just didn't do, like he wanted to fill his time elsewhere and sometimes… you swore it felt intentional. 

As if he didn't want to be around you. 

You sought communicating with him about everything, pinning all the blame on his mountain-high stress and how busy he was thinking you could help ease his mind; but he stayed firm on the notion he was just fine. You obviously knew something was up and wanted to confront him, but you feared pestering or nagging him, never wishing to add to his stress.

And you get that, you really do. He has this demanding, grandiose life that you should understand is incredibly stressful and time-consuming. But you're going to be honest... you fucking missed Kim Taehyung. A lot. 

Granted, you saw him at work, even more so now with a comeback dawning on the group, but it wasn’t the same. 

You missed being home with him. You missed the way his big arms cuddled you when you watched a movie together, you missed 'attempting' to cook dinner with him, you missed your snuggly mornings where he wouldn’t let you go until he laid at least a hundred kisses on you. You missed him tickling you when you least expected it, randomly playing any track of jazz or slow music, swaying you until he made you giggle and you missed him never forgetting to kiss your forehead whenever he parted from you, even if he had to be discreet where work was concerned. 

The cute, couply things you missed, sure. But the one thing that consistently clouded your mind and bothered you nearly every second of everyday... 

Sex. 

That active as hell sex life you two had, you missed every damn detail about it and your body desperately yearned for its revival.

After a month's dryspell, you craved Taehyung so badly it wasn’t funny anymore. From all the times he eyed you suggestively, to the way his large, touchy hands ended up all over you, to the way he eventually laid you down, lost himself in his torturous but pleasurable teasing, maybe even tying you up or handcuffing you in the process, getting you dripping wet before he eventually fucked you just right simply out of his own desire.

Nope. 

You can't do this, it only made you hornier than you already were and fuck, did anything you try on yourself not work at all. You were feeling greedy. Going from doing it nearly three times a week during quarantine lockdown with him to suddenly having gone a month sex-free left you losing your mind. 

There used to be so much fire, so much love, so much passion between you two. It was intoxicating, so ardent that you could feel yourselves aching for each other in your bones.  But now, all of that felt either non-existent or buried so deep underground you couldn't feel much of anything. And of course, the absence of sex and the cute stuff collectively sucked, sure. But what scared you the most were your own thoughts. 

What if he's finally tired of you? What if he wants to focus on his career? What if he's found someone new, someone that isn’t staff, someone much easier and less burdensome than you..

You stopped. 

A dark web of assumptions swarmed your head, all seeming completely plausible and welcoming a dull, daunting sadness to loom over you. Your chest constricted at the thought of your fickle importance to him, wincing at the possibility it could be true. You sat in silence in your lonely home, leaving you to ponder when the apartment began to feel so forlorn in the first place.

The photographs he took framed the walls, the old albums he owned littered your shelves and even one of the many jackets he owned was currently sprawled across your couch. You noticed the way his presence was so deeply rooted in the home, yet he felt as distant as ever. 

You settled in on your couch, cradling his jacket at the thought of how much longer this would continue, forcing yourself to sleep in hopes of ridding the feeling of emptiness from your chest.

But you couldn't.

Your mind drowned struggling to sleep, giving up on shut-eye as a whole until eventually you began swimming, swimming through your emotions and one particular thought stood out to you; this wasn't fucking fair. 

It just wasn't, none of this was. You can't let him continue this, can't remain on the fence about doing something and you certainly cannot just let this go. It was your duty as one of the active partners in this relationship to fight for its life, so that's exactly what you were going to do—with one conclusion you were convinced would work. 

You should give him a taste of his own medicine. 

You decided to be upset, ignore him and see how he reacts. Respond with the same curt responses, not give him the time of day, 'naturally' gravitate away from him. Hell, you could start tomorrow by waking up earlier than him and seeing how he responds to your empty side of bed for once. 

That's if he even comes home tonight. 

This seemed like the only sure-fire method of gaining his attention. Maybe if you acted unreasonably, far from how you usually do he would finally pay you any mind, have to approach and confront you. You’d always let him off the hook on the account of him being an idol, but now he’s taken it too far. 

Your mind grew hazy somewhere in between thinking and shuffling on the couch, only the sight of a vacant apartment and the scent of his cologne lulling you to sleep. 

You groaned as your eyes fluttered open, the reality of last night resurfacing as you remembered the impromptu plan for today, cursing how early you had to wake up to avoid him. 

You lazily rubbed at your eyes as they landed on the clock on your bedside table, suddenly registering you were in a different room altogether. It was then you felt the softness of your pillow, the silk of your sheets, the familiarity of your room's walls coming into view—all of it blissful until you froze at the feeling of weight around your waist, a quick glance confirming it was an arm. It was then you felt your neck being fanned by hot breaths, your back flush against someone's bare chest and you felt your heart speed up. 

Is he...?

Thinking you're getting ahead of yourself, you're proven just right when you turn around to a face you knew all too well. 

Taehyung's soft figure rose and fell as he slept soundlessly next to you. 

You instantly softened, in a bit of shock because he was right there, angelic as ever as he breathed calmly and cuddled your smaller figure into him.

He still held you to fall asleep, huh?

A smile found your face at the thought as you admired the details of his; thick, pretty lashes pressed against the skin underneath his eyes, his large, veiny hand tucked under his cheek as the other draped you, his pink, pillowy lips sealed together in an adorable pout. You shifted onto your side and nuzzled closer into him, listening to his rhythmic breathing and watching his broad chest rise and fall. You melted into his presence, soaking in all the glory that was Kim Taehyung. 

You then remembered he was always here, he did give you his personal time; you just didn't see him. You knew he moved you at night, tucked you in, maybe kissed you goodnight. Maybe he had moments where he felt terrible for being away, whispered sweet apologies and promises into your ear.

But then again, you wouldn’t know, you didn't spend enough time together for you to know. 

A sudden movement of his arm and that eerie thought snapped you back into reality, instantly scolding yourself for getting distracted by him. You had to focus on how you felt, hone in your emotions and refrain from doting on your precious boyfriend. 

You wouldn't be able to ignore him later if you didn't start now.

You were forced to leave his warmth, having to ready yourself for today's rehearsals and resolving numerous things for however long this would continue; you needed Taehyung to feel what you've been feeling all this time, needed him to feel the absence of your presence just as you had felt his. 

And you'll be damned if you were going to be easy about it. 

A couple hours had passed as you stretched, yawning after revising a rehearsal video, the murmurs of staff keeping you awake. Stretching for what felt like the millionth time, you slightly jumped at the sound of the studio doors opening just before the scheduled time. You watched it mindfully, your heart speeding up at the thought of suddenly seeing Taehyung so soon. 

Don’t let it be him first, don’t let it be him first, don’t let it be him first. 

You calmed down once your eyes set on 5 of the members ambling in, watching them greet people until you eventually spotted Jimin and Taehyung trailing behind, thankfully too occupied with giggling to see you. 

You rejoiced in the lack of eye contact until you decided to sneak a peek at Taehyung, mortified when you found his eyes suddenly locking with yours. The shock made you turn away instantly, swallowing what felt like your heart down your throat. 

Your ears were welcomed to the boys making conversation, playfully teasing the 95's for apparently being late and in the midst you managed to shyly greet everyone... except Taehyung.  

And this didn't go unnoticed by him, who already felt worried since he woke up to your cold, unoccupied side of the bed this morning. Taehyung instantly found it off-putting, since he usually knew your schedule and left him wondering what reason you had to disappear without informing him. 

Curiosity flooded him as the thought continued to bug him, what did she have to do so early in the morning? His inquiries turned into actions when he began passing through the boys, immediately stepping towards you. 

"Morning, Y/N. Everything alright?" Taehyung innocently reached for your shoulder once he settled beside you. You almost let him do it, making you reminiscent of when he actually gave a shit about you, but you remembered your little scheme and swiftly pulled away.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Taehyung immediately froze up, disbelief riddling his handsome features. You've never once rejected his touch so blatantly. 

You would never do that, he thought.

Taehyung paused his hand at the point he would have touched you, tugging at his bottom lip uncomfortably before rubbing the back of his neck. You internally winced at the hurt you could see on his face through the studio mirrors, forcing yourself to stand your ground as he feebly spoke again.

"You don't seem fine. Why did you wake up so early this morning? You didn't tell me about it..." He scratched his neck awkwardly, a hint of a pout in his tone.

"I don't know, I just couldn't sleep. I don't need to tell you my every move, Taehyung." You responded curtly.

"I know..but you could've told me, Jagiya. We could've spent the morning together in the apartment if you were up so early." Taehyung looked at you in protest, lowering his voice so others couldn't hear. 

The use of your pet name after a long time instantly ticked you off, even more so his proposal, he could say all that cute shit but couldn't act upon it? 

Irritation nestled its way under your skin, causing you to whisper dryly, “Just get to stretching, Taehyung, we have a lot to go over today.”

His jaw clenched as he swallowed, a troubled expression painting his face. He managed a small 'okay' before he unwillingly stepped away.

Taehyung was beyond confused; something was wrong, seriously wrong. It wasn't just your harsh tone or icy aura, but even in the way you addressed him so plainly as Taehyung. 

He didn't understand, he's seen you mad or annoyed before, but nothing along these lines and he couldn’t piece together the reason for your attitude. It seemed like nothing would ameliorate your mood either, leaving Taehyung cursing whatever evil thing was making you so upset. 

Despite experiencing that bitter demeanour, however, Taehyung was forced to watch you act friendly with everyone else during practice.. except him. 

And what was even worse, he watched you do so for the rest of the week. You had gone a whole week with your (what he found to be) ridiculous behaviour, everything about you so different with him he was left consumed with frustration. 

He watched as you continued to treat everyone else the same, getting a little too close to them than he liked. It was something he noticed in the weeks previous to this, but now silently pissed him off even more because this time you decided to purposefully exclude him; and he hated it. You barely spoke or tended to him over the course of the week, Taehyung's envy blooming in his chest at the way you acted so close to everyone yet treated him, your boyfriend, like a stranger. 

He didn't understand why he was the only one, you talked to Jimin about what he did on his days off, pretended to box with Jungkook, danced around with Yoongi and Hoseok and goofed around with Jin and Namjoon. Hell, he even found you socializing with other staff and dancers more than usual. 

Taehyung couldn't fucking stand it, what in the world was wrong with you? Not only did he figure something was clearly wrong, but that he clearly did something wrong. 

He was beyond confused, annoyed, but more so worried as to what was fuelling your actions. Taehyung didn't know what he did, and he couldn't manage not knowing anymore, most of all despising the feeling that he was suddenly losing you. 

He quickly resolved after a gruesome week he wasn't letting you go after rehearsals tonight, giving a fat fuck you to his evening plans and trading them in for confronting you. 

Your eyes stung from a week’s worth of waking up at the ass crack of dawn to avoid Taehyung, rubbing your eyes as you slung your purse over your shoulder to end another day at the studio. Thinking you were alone, you swiveled around to an empty room and surprisingly spotted Taehyung.

You jumped a little, not expecting him to still be here when you knew he had dinner plans tonight. 

Did he cancel them? 

Suddenly realizing this is the first time in over a month you’ve been in a room with him, alone, and especially after the week you've spent purposefully dodging him, anxiety flooded your chest. 

Your eyes flittered around, nibbling on your lip awkwardly as you pretended he wasn't there. You eventually met his eyes and he returned your hesitant gaze with an intense one, nearly peering into your very soul. He remained unbothered with his hands tucked into his pockets, and now that you were finally viewing him, couldn't help but swoon over his look for the day. 

He really chose to wear that damn grey hoodie with matching grey sweatpants that makes you weak, hair styled in the messy curls he's been sporting ever since his perm and wearing that one silver hoop earring you found incredibly hot. 

He looked like a fluffy puppy but also a full-course meal crafted by God himself. 

This isn't fucking fair at all. 

He noticed you staring at him and his head cocked to the side, studying you with a hint of a smirk. He raised an eyebrow tauntingly, like he wouldn't let you go after trapping you in what felt like shackles around your ankles. You could only swallow dryly, averting your eyes and reminding yourself you had to get out of his trance

His power over you was immense, especially when he flipped his curly fringe from his eyes, examining you with such a fiere, unreadable expression you shifted nervously on your feet. 

How is he so dominant when he's standing a whole 15 fucking feet away from you?

You watched a self-satisfying grin play onto Taehyung’s lips, loving the way you squirmed under his undivided attention until he suddenly began stepping in your direction, sheer panic overtaking you. You weren't ready, you didn't really think of the result of this plan and now that it's worked, you knew you were in trouble. 

Taehyung is unpredictable as hell, you never knew what was running through his mind and which idea he’d pick to entertain. You malfunctioned at the thought and your flight response kicked in, making you step towards the door at light speed. 

"I..uh.. I have to go." You stuttered and purposely ducked around him. You felt relieved once you passed his deep stare, until you felt his slender fingers suddenly grapple onto your wrist. 

Shit. 

"You're not going anywhere." His low voice reverberated in the room, sending currents through your body. You refused to look at him, knowing it would make you squeal, but you stabilized your voice to speak. 

"I..", you swallowed, "don't think it's your place to say." 

You felt his hold on your wrist tighten, knowing that pissed him off. 

A small moment of silence passed and you thought he'd given up, relaxing until he suddenly yanked you towards him, your smaller figure crashing into his chest. He held you against his tall body as his eyes locked with your timid ones, forcing the confrontation of your obvious issue with him. 

You took a stubborn step back instead of giving in, arms crossed. Taehyung had enough of you evading his look and gently lifted your chin with his index finger.

"My place? It's been a fucking week and you haven't even looked at me, Y/N. What is your problem?" He emphasized with annoyance, but his soft eyes gave away he was just desperate for an answer. 

"Nothing's wrong, Taehyung, I'm just tired."

"Oh really? Tired? Y/N, don't think I didn't notice you ignore me for an entire week. I thought something was wrong in general but clearly you have a problem with me and only me. What's your deal?" He vented in frustration, tone utterly displeased.

You only scoffed disbelievingly, looking towards the ground in search of something to hold back your piled-high emotions. 

Taehyung grew tired of your silence and sighed with dejection. He cupped your cheeks and looked at you seriously, "Look at me, bubs, what's so wrong? Did I do something?" the newfound frailty in his voice left you sucking in a breath of guilt. 

You really wanted to voice how you felt, teetering on the possibility until you suddenly became aware you'd be requesting demands from one of the busiest people on Earth.

 Your tongue habitually tied itself. 

"It's just.. It's not important, Taehyung. Let me go." You abruptly turned out of his hold, locking your jaw tightly. 

"Why in God's name would I let you go? Something's wrong, Jagiya, and that's always going to be important to me." Taehyung squeezed your arms affectionately, suddenly warming you to him. 

You could instantly feel your emotions conflicting inside, flooding your chest with regret yet frustration so heavy you needed air. Your eyes were beginning to reveal your vulnerability, trying to blink away threatening tears. 

"Taehyung, just let me go, it's absolutely nothing." Your voice sounded shakily unconvincing and yet, you were tugging yourself away as if he would believe you. 

"It's not nothing, I can clearly see something wrong. Why won't you just tell me?" 

"Because I don't want to tell you, Taehyung. It's really just nothing." 

"You keep saying it's nothing but I can see it in your eyes, you're upset, Jagiya. I know you." Taehyung spoke matter-of-factly, his grip and tone growing desperate.

"I'm not upset, I'm just exhausted." 

"Exhuasted..” Taehyung trailed, licking his lips. “Of course, because now you're waking up earlier than you usually do in the morning and on top of that without even fucking telling me why." His tone grew irritated as he scoffed, looking away from you.

You instantly grew annoyed. 

"And I told you I don't need to tell you my every move, Kim. Why are you even so pissed about it?” 

"Did you just.. family name me?" Taehyung narrowed his eyes

"So what if I did?" You deadpanned. 

Taehyung let out a deep sigh. 

"I’m pissed cause I got worried, okay? Not everyone has a situation like ours where anyone could do shit to you because of me, so I like knowing where you are." Taehyung stressed with a serious tone. "And listen, I’m not letting you go until you tell me what's wrong. I'm fucking serious, Jagi, you did not just ignore me all week only to tell me nothing's wrong." 

"And I'm not gonna say anything. I'm fucking serious, Taehyung." You mimicked him, hoping he'd let you go. 

Taehyung dragged his tongue along the inside of his cheek and chuckled dryly, your impossibility unbelievable to him. He pursed his lips before slowly releasing you, his hands up in mock surrender. 

"Fine, you can leave then." 

You took his words without a second thought and immediately turned for the door. You had just cracked it open before Taehyung’s hand suddenly smacked it shut from behind, making you turn around startled. 

He abruptly pinned you against the door with the weight of his body, locking you in with both arms. He leveled himself to your height and peered directly into your eyes.

"And I told you, I'm not letting you go, Ms. Y/L/N." Taehyung now mimicked you as you felt him dominate you with a degree of alpha-male that left you entranced and unable to move. He drew himself closer to your face, so close that he granted no room for you to breathe. You could only stand in defeat, your doe eyes wide as you flashed them to his lips and back to his eyes. 

Taehyung couldn't resist how much he wanted you anymore.

"I always forget how challenging you can be." He spoke in his deepest, sultriest tone, that damn bass paired with his dancing eyes causing you to bite your lip. 

Taehyung watched you do so and grew hot, finding you irresistible when you were acting impossible yet became putty in his hands. You balled your hands into fists against his chest as he dangerously inched towards your neck, his proximity shooting arousal through your blood. 

His scent was intoxicating, resurfacing the numerous thoughts you had of him in his absence. He manifested butterflies in your chest,  knowing you had to resist him yet found yourself giving in.

He finally ducked into your neck, anticipating the connection of his lips until he only ghosted your skin. He breathed against you purposefully to elicit a reaction, gifted his desire when he felt your body lean into him and breath hitch. 

You hated that you wanted him to kiss you already. You craved him so desperately, so in need of his touch that just the feeling of his body pushing you against the door was enough to make you press your thighs together. 

And little did you know, a month and a week without you left Taehyung dying to devour you. 

As if noticing you getting impatient, he pulled you towards him by your waist and his lips finally crashed onto your neck, a silent groan escaping you as his plush lips began mouthing sensually. You let out a breathy moan but gathered the courage to speak up, knowing full well the high creeping up on you and you needed to get back at him.

"Maybe if you were home more often you'd remember." 

A small laugh escaped Taehyung, "So that's what this is about?" The sudden puff of his breath made you want to jump him. He deliberately pushed his hips into yours, shooting jolts throughout your core once you felt the familiar prodding of something hard. He began sliding one of his hands up and down your waist, almost in an effort to distract you. 

"Of course it is, Tae. You're never fucking home." You spoke with vexation, growing both sexually and emotionally frustrated over the way he was pressing you up against the door and inviting a stirring feeling to constrict your insides. He brought his thigh in between your legs, slightly grinding against you as he added pressure to your heat and sucked your sweet spot.

"I'm never fucking home, huh? Who do you think moves you from the couch to our bed? Makes sure you're comfortable and tucks you in? Kisses you goodnight?" He asked rhetorically, letting his teeth bite at your supple flesh and embellish you with his favourite purple marks.

"T-that's not the point, Taehyung. I'm not awake. H-how does that count as you being home?" You retaliated as best you could, snaking your hands to grab the nape of his neck, fingers trailing into the curly ends of his hair. He groaned so audibly that you grew shamelessly hornier.

"Because I do come home. I sleep next to you in our bed, even cuddle you." He began sucking underneath your jaw, wrapping his arm around your torso to press you flush against him. He kissed down your throat trying to bite and leave more hickies, pushing you back for support.

"I-I just told you, that doesn't count, Tae. You... come home when I'm asleep and leave before I wake up. I-I never see you." You tried to maintain your composure, hands hugging his head close to you. 

"But we already see each other here, don't we? You see me at practice, meetings, in the building... no?" He suddenly came off your neck and his hand flanked to your chin, advancing for a kiss. But immediate annoyance flooded you upon registering his words, pulling your face back. 

"Are you kidding me? You count that as seeing each other? All we do is rehearse choreography and work together. How is that 'seeing' each other?" You asked, baffled at his audacity. 

"Because we're at least together, aren't we? Isn't that all that matters?" Taehyung looked at you as if you were the ridiculous one, ignoring your concerns and trying to kiss you again. You immediately removed yourself from him and pushed him back, his hands letting you go.

"That's not the issue, Tae. The issue is that you're really busy and I get that, but we literally haven't done anything together in the last month. And the reason that sounds insane to me is because we work and live together, you'd expect that somewhere in that time we would’ve done something... but we haven't." You emphasized as you pled your case. 

"Princess, we've been over this. I told you at the beginning of our comeback that our time together was gonna be limited. I remember you agreeing to that and understanding. Why is this coming up now?" 

"So going an entire month neglecting your ‘princess' is what you meant? Your 'limited' seems more like 'nothing at all'.” You air quoted and crossed your arms, becoming annoyed with his ambiguity and sudden use of another pet name. 

"Okay, that's not what I'm saying. All I'm saying is that comeback season is busy, it's one thing after another and I can't always keep up with everything. There’s a lot going on; our album, company business, don’t get me started on the mountain of work with promotions, concerts, filming and photoshoots. I'm even making an entire fucking mixtape. I’m trying my damn best here." Taehyung vouched for himself, holding his hands up to defend against your accusations.

"And I'm not saying you don't try, I understand that you're busy but what I’m saying is I don't even feel important to you anymore, let alone a priority. We barely interact, you never do anything with me or talk to me, but for everyone else you’ve got all the effort in the world to spare. I get that you're an idol, I always see you working hard and I'm proud of that. But you somehow make time for everything else.. why can't you just make some time for me?" You felt like you sounded selfish, almost faltering from revealing anymore but you felt so neglected it had to be said. 

"Wh-what about you? Oh my God, Jagiya.. you're such a high priority to me. Trust me, you really don’t know what I'd do for us and you should know I’d damn well do or sacrifice anything. It may seem like I'm not right now but I promise it's not like that. You'll always be important to me, how could you think otherwise?" Taehyung was perplexed by your sudden outburst, never having known of these feelings before. He reached his hands out to you but you abruptly denied him, snapping at the question.

“Then what’s it ‘like’, exactly? Because it seems very much to me like you want nothing to do with our relationship.” 

“No, that’s-that’s not it at all. Don’t worry about this, okay bubs? Overthinking this won’t do you any good, just trust me.” 

“Trust you? You're not even answering my damn question, Taehyung, what is it then? Why aren’t you telling me? Are you fucking hiding something?” You began speculating, his repeated vagueness irking you.

“Jagi, no, just listen to me. Know that I mean it when I say you’re important to me, you’re the love of my life and you'll always be a priority. Why are you thinking like this? Where is all this coming from?” Taehyung asked incredulously, getting on your very last nerve. 

"I don't fucking know, Taehyung, maybe because you ignore me for hours on end? Maybe because you leave me every morning without considering just waking up together? I know we can't make it obvious we live together, but we’ve always found a way before, what happened to that? Your texts and phone calls are so meaningless. You make time for your friends and other people but don't make any for me." Your eyes turned glassy, tears escaping as you recalled your terrible feelings over the last month. 

"Do you know why you find me sleeping on the couch every night no matter how fucking uncomfortable it is? Because our bed literally smells like you and it constantly reminds me of you but you’re not even there. Do you know how many times I've wanted to talk to you but you're too distracted and I know you'd just push me away? Or how scared I am of bothering you? How many times I've wanted you to come home? How utterly empty and lonely the apartment feels without you even though everything about you is riddled all over it? You don't get it, Taehyung. You just don't fucking get it." You found yourself crying and clutched your chest where it felt like your heart was on display for Taehyung, the reality of everything hitting you like a 16-wheeler. 

Taehyung did nothing but blink at you for several seconds, shocked at what he just heard. Were you seriously.. that upset? His absence was that prominent? It didn't even feel like a month to him, but it seems to you it felt like an eternity. 

Taehyung unfortunately only knew his packed schedule and making sure he didn’t fall asleep where he shouldn't. A multitude of things ran through his mind on a daily basis with his chaotic life; discussing outfits with his stylist, trying to purchase that new serum his makeup artist always reminds him of, meeting with a producer to review freshly composed songs for his mixtape or finally going out for that one drink he always promised a friend or two—and he suddenly hated it all. 

He especially began to loathe his demanding life when he saw the hurt on your face; the way your eyes glistened with pain, the loneliness in your voice, the way you tried physically holding yourself together. He couldn't fathom he was the cause of such pain, wincing at how utterly stupid he was for not noticing this earlier.

I really did do something to her.

He searched for anything to say, beginning to form words but quickly stopping himself from starting a sentence each time. He only examined your crumbling state and regretted not having talked to you sooner, but suddenly wishing you informed him about your feelings preemptively.

"I.. I thought you would've said something, Y/N, but you didn't. How am I supposed to know you feel this way if you don't tell me? You-you seemed okay to me." He inquired softly, tone riddled with guilt, but his words only made a disdainful scoff leave your lips. 

"Told you? Taehyung, you have always made it clear that you're a busy person and I've always respected that. You also made clear the importance of this comeback and that I just had to understand how limited our time together would be. Of course I had to act okay. How could you expect me to come and beg you for your attention after you tell me not to seek it?"

Taehyung was taken aback, falling silent. You watched him angrily, finding it unbelievable he really had nothing to say for such a crucial argument. 

"I was fucking embarrassed, Taehyung. I thought you'd get mad at me for hovering around you while you were busy and stressed. I didn't want to fucking suffocate you." 

"What? Jagi, no, this is important. I wouldn't have reacted like that at all. If you were hurting this much you could've told me and I would've done something. You can always talk to me, how could you not know that?" Taehyung inquired with a hint of accusation and it was like every cell in your body had set off.

"Oh fuck you, Kim Taehyung. Don't give me that bullshit! Of course I know, but I also know that you just get caught up in your own world and your extravagant idol life and I don't wanna fucking bother you when you’re living it without me!" 

"Y/N, don't. I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, can you watch your tone a little?" Taehyung asked with a frustrated timbre.

"You know what? I won't, Taehyung, let's fight. Only way to get your attention, isn't it?" Your feelings had reached its peak as you decided to egg him on.

"Don't do this, Y/N. I'm trying to have a civilized conversation." 

"And I don't want a civilized conversation, it's only making you ask me stupid questions." 

"They're not stupid questions. Can you not understand my side of this?" 

"Nope, I won't because I don't care about your side, actually." 

"The fuck? And you just expect me to understand your side when you won't even try to understand mine? I’m expected to know how you feel? Well news flash, Y/N, I can't exactly read minds.” He humorlessly tapped his head for effect, quipping at you harshly.

"I'm not asking you to read my mind, I'm just asking you to fucking pay attention for once in your goddamn life." You rolled your eyes dramatically, arms crossed tight as ever. 

Taehyung noticeably grew angry at the remark, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "Do not tell me of all people I don't pay attention. You know I've changed over the years but how attentive I am hasn't. Don't ever say that to me again." Taehyung's stern voice warned you of the line you were crossing.

You immediately softened and turned your attitude down a notch, only by a margin since you knew he would never grow angry enough to do anything to you.

"Fine, you pay attention, but clearly not enough." You acquiesced, looking away from him. 

Taehyung tried his best to reason now that he sensed you yielding. "Look, this is my first time hearing about this, okay? I had no clue, especially because you seemed and acted fine with me. Of course I'm going to tell you you should've just talked to me, I'm seriously not asking stupid questions." 

"Well, I didn't want to talk to you." 

"And how was that going to help you? It's only making us argue over something so easily fixable." He indirectly accused you and you returned your eyes to his, narrowing them at his audacity. 

"Wow, easily fixable, huh? Do you really think it takes that little to earn my forgiveness after neglecting me for an entire month? Am I that easy to you?" You smiled to yourself miserably, turning away as tears spilled from you. 

Your assumptions were correct, he really just thought of you as some easy pushover. Part of this was your fault, wasn't it? Being so quiet and passive about everything. You voluntarily let him get away with everything, let him slip away without a fight, and the frustration of that realization came washing down on you, hard. 

"No, wait. That's not what I meant. I just meant that if you'd let me known earlier, we wouldn't be fighting like this." Taehyung instantly softened at your tears with regret, internally facepalming himself.

"I didn't want to openly tell you, okay? It makes me seem...like an attention-seeker, and I was so afraid of bothering you." You wore your heart on your sleeve as your voice wavered, more tears escaping as you attempted to blink them away. 

Taehyung looked at you with overwhelming worry. His heart was beyond broken now, his desire to fix everything growing stronger with every tear that dared escape your eyes. 

He needed to make this right, fast.

"It doesn't make you a fucking attention-seeker, Y/N. Stop being so worried about how you appear to me, I'm with you for a reason. I accept you in any way, especially after how much we fought for this, for us. Your feelings too, they're all fucking valid to me. I really would've done something if you’d just told me how you felt." Taehyung practically pleaded, his pouty lips and devastated eyes making it clear he just wanted to reach some sort of consensus with you. 

"But that's the problem, Tae." You sniffled, wiping some tears. "You keep saying I should’ve told you, when you should've noticed on your own in the first place." 

Taehyung felt like someone had slapped him across the face, his lips parting as a deep look of realization dawned on his gorgeous face. "I…" He trailed, but couldn't let words out. He was realizing how stupid he was, how unobservant and ignorant. He hated it all, hated that he was so busy, hated that he didn't pay enough attention and hated that he hurt you. 

You gave up when his lack of words warranted a tense silence between you two, cut short when you hastily left the room. You walked in the direction of the parking lot angrily. You just needed some air, needed to go home and cleanse yourself of him for the time being. 

You thought you were being quick enough, until you heard laboured footsteps and Taehyung's low voice echoing in the hallway, tailing you. 

"Y/N! Wait, wait! Please, don’t walk away!" Taehyung practically begged as he rushed to your side.

"I'm not gonna wait for anything, I'm going home!" 

"Stop! My manager's gonna take us home tonight, okay? We're gonna talk about this." He stated with solidarity as he grabbed your arm, eager to patch things up.

"No we're not, and I have my own car, I'm getting myself home." You snatched your arm from him and marched on.

"You can leave it here for fuck's sake, and I said stop. We're going home together and sorting this out because I can't leave you like this, okay? We need to fix this."

"Awh, all I'm getting from that is you'll finally be home for once!" You chirped sarcastically, never looking at him as you practically stomped away. You saw him falter from your side, knowing he had to have paused at the heft of your comment. 

You both eventually made it through the building’s doors, you needing to be pretty much dragged into his manager’s car despite your vehement protest, stupidly shut into the back with him.

You were turned away putting on an Oscar’s worthy performance of pretending he wasn’t there, and Taehyung was left to canvas his numerous thoughts as the car drove. 

He realized he had said nothing to your comment earlier because.. you were right. 

When was the last time he sat in a car with you like this? The last time you were both home together? The last time you both lazily threw your things onto the floor once you arrived home and immediately smothered each other after holding back all day? The last time he held you in his arms while you two watched a trashy movie? 

Holy fuck, when was the last time we had sex? Made love? 

He could only think of memories from weeks ago in quarantine, nothing recent. His solemn gaze fell upon you as he thought. He could feel the prominent tension between you two, the gut-wrenching distance, leaving a black hole swallowing his heart. He felt no ease, no affection, no love. 

When did it fucking become like this? 

He was still struggling to stomach the fact that he hurt you. He watched you regretfully, tears pricking at his eyes as he saw you attempting to hold back your own. 

He then felt the sudden need to hold you, to comfort you. You had been pulling away from him for so long that he wanted nothing but to feel his large, warm hand cradle your smaller, colder one. Reassure you that while he's stupid, he's still here. 

Taehyung looked at you and leaned over, deciding to gently slide a reaffirming hand atop yours, gripping your fingers with all the love and warmth he could muster. 

He expected you to reject him, nearly giving up on a reaction until he felt your tentative hand just barely grab his back. Surprised, he took a relaxed breath. 

I'm going to fix this.

Taehyung shut the door as you two sauntered into your apartment and you disregarded your things, heading straight for your room. You thought it would make Taehyung leave you alone, but he caught your hand as you began stepping away. He didn’t yank you; simply held your wrist, still and remorseful with your back to him. 

A long pause passed as he stood in place, silence piercing the air until you spoke coldly, "What do you want?"

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could manage, his once powerful voice so incredibly small. 

You searched for a response, the air becoming somewhat suffocating as you sighed. “I know.” 

“No, you don’t. Jagiya, I mean it. I mean it with everything I have. I'm so sorry” Taehyung insisted with meaning, like he was seconds away from falling apart if you didn't believe him. 

You could hear the sincerity in his words and you could feel how heartbroken he was, but your exhaustion amassed with all the emotions that had been attacking you all week were discouraging you from participating in any conversation right now. 

“You may mean it, but that’s not fixing anything, Taehyung. You really don’t know how it felt to have you ignore me. To see you unaffected by our time apart. It felt like you were pushing me away, like I wasn’t worth your fucking time anymore.” 

“That’s wrong, Jagiya. You are always worth my time.” 

“Then maybe you’re just a contradictive jerk, Taehyung, I don’t know!” You threw your hands up as you broke his hold, turning around vexed. 

"Because one day you're telling me to basically fuck off because you're too busy but the next you're saying I'm worth all your time? Where the fuck was that the last month then? All you had to do was spare me a couple hours a week, just a couple. I wasn't even asking for much, you could've made the time!"

“I'm sorry, okay! I’m a jerk, I get it, but I had a reason! I have a fucking reason but right now I want to apologize and say I'm sorry. I’m sorry I made you feel like that, I’m sorry I neglected you and made you feel alone, I never intended that!” Taehyung sincerely implored, eyes worried and persistent as he reached for you. 

“Then what did you intend? Saying sorry after the fact does nothing. If you didn’t intend to hurt me then what did you intend to do?!”  You shouted, evading his touch again. 

“I was doing it for you! The reason was all for you, for us!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as anger seeped into your blood, unbelieving of whatever excuses you thought he was making up. 

“For me? Us? Really? Wow, did you suddenly quit your job as an idol to become comedian of the fucking year?” You quipped venomously. "How the fuck is you ignoring me for a month 'for our relationship'?" 

Taehyung was trying hard to calm himself down, thinking twice about how he was going to handle this. "Y/N, please, just try to trust me on this." 

You scoffed disbelievingly, shaking your head as you quickly made your way further into the apartment and over to your TV. Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed as he watched you reach towards the shelf underneath it. It was adorned with cherished photos of the people you both held most dear; family, friends, the boys. Most of them consisted of Taehyung entertaining his love for photography, having snapped stunning photos of scenery, people or a combination of both he adored enough to frame. 

But many were of you two, either in front of gorgeous landscapes or adorable candids. You picked up a photograph of you two in Daegu—Taehyung's big arms enveloping yours from behind as you hooked onto them, all smiles in front of his family's strawberry farm after his camera’s timer snapped the photo.

“See this? This is something you did for us, you told me you only take and frame photos of the most beautiful moments in your life, and you gave this to me telling me it was your favourite moment.” You placed the frame down, opting to grab the gray Sherpa blanket off the couch in front of you. 

“This? You got this for me after I was diagnosed with anemia during Christmas and had been shivering for months. You told me not to worry because you’d always keep me warm and whenever you weren’t there I could use this blanket instead, think of it as you. You did that for me.” You disregarded the blanket and held up your wrist. 

“This bracelet? You got it for our anniversary and made it our equivalent of promise rings because you know I hate rings. You even made sure your bracelet matched in a way that other people wouldn't notice and was only special to us." You watched as Taehyung slightly lifted his left hand to look at the mentioned bracelet. "You did that for me, for us.” Tears were brimming your eyes as you spoke, voice growing shaky.

“Taehyung, you did all those sweet and thoughtful things for us, for me. Those are the kinds of things you should be doing, not fucking hurting me by acting like I don't matter to you, making me question everything. What’s wrong with you? How could you scare me like that? Treat me like I’m nothing and say it’s for our relationship?”

“You're not, you're not nothing." Taehyung's voice caught in his throat, trying hard to dry his glassy eyes.

"I get it, Y/N. I fucking get it, what I’m doing right now may not seem as sweet as all those other things, but I promise it’s as thoughtful, it's still all for you. I’m serious when I say that, this is all because I love you. Why can’t you just believe me?” 

"And why can’t you just say what it is? Why won't you tell me? Are you hiding something? Taehyung, what you did felt like anything but love-" 

"That’s not true. The reason is insignificant right now because I didn't mean to hurt you, I’m so fucking sorry.” Taehyung's voice shook with genuity, trying once again to approach you, gingerly, affectionately. 

Your anger couldn’t subside with the way he kept side-tracking, however, your emotions growing erratic again. "Are you kidding me? Insignificant? The reason is the most important! Just tell me, why did you ignore me for an entire fucking month?!” 

"I said it's not fucking important right now. I want to apologize first, I didn’t mean to do it!" Taehyung was desperate to reason, eyes begging you to believe him. 

“It is important! Tell me what you’re hiding.”  

“It’s not important.”

“Yes it is!”

“No it isn’t!” 

“Yes it is!” 

“No it isn’t! I'm trying to earn your forgiveness firs-Y/N, what are you.." Taehyung’s eye widened in shock.  

He couldn't finish his sentence because he watched you grab a cushion from the couch and suddenly launch it in his direction.

"What the fuck? What are you doing?!” Taehyung exclaimed as he dodged, his large hands instinctively catching the object, looking at you like a confused puppy. “Did you just throw that at me?!” 

“I did! And I'll do it again until you tell me what you’re hiding!” You challenged him like a child and started reaching for throwable things. Pens, notepads, books, even a stray plastic water bottle all went hurtling towards Taehyung. 

You couldn’t stop throwing out of frustration, his unfair gift of ambidextrous hands and incredible catching skills making you even more frustrated. 

Did he really have to be made so fucking perfect? 

He continued defending himself from your attacks until he grew annoyed, “For the love of God, Y/N, stop throwing shit! Just put everything down and listen to me, you have to trust me before I can even explain myself!” Taehyung shouted more so with concern for you, dodging a bottle of vitamins. 

Now why the fuck was that just lying around? 

You snorted condescendingly, "Again with that, trust you?" You mocked as the TV remote came into your hand. 

"You know what, Taehyung? Let me explain for you, you’ve just found someone new who's not fucking staff, haven’t you? Our relationship got too difficult and you’ve finally had enough. You’re hiding shit to save my feelings, aren’t you?” You accused him much to your dismay, angry tears pooling in your eyes.

"What-no! Fuck no I would never do or think any of that!" Taehyung vehemently denied, finally having reached you and wrestled you for the remote. He eventually pried it out of your hands, throwing it away and holding your wrists as you resisted him.

 "It’s none of that, alright? I was just so damn stressed and I had way too much work. There’s so much going on, it fucks with me and I didn't want to make you my fucking mental care, unload my idol life crap onto you. You're working just as hard and I didn't want to burden you.”  Taehyung desperately revealed trying to reach you, upset that you could even think such ridiculous, lowly things of him. 

"Don't you dare use work as an excuse. I know you were busy and stressed, but you were making time for everyone else in your life except me. Just say it, Tae. I know you're tired of us!"

"Fucking-Y/N, it's literally not that at all. I was actually busy, okay? What I said is true!" Taehyung pleaded, he knew he was only telling part of the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie.

"It can't just be that, there's no way. What are you hiding from me? I'm serious, I'll leave this conversation if you don't, I'll leave this apartment if you don't-” 

"No! Just-alright! You really wanna know so badly?” Taehyung inquired rhetorically, his jaw locking. “Fine then. You fucking got found out.” 

You stopped fighting him and blinked, confusion riddling all your features. Taehyung sighed deeply and continued before you could say anything.  

“We got too comfortable, okay? I'm still an idol and our team heard a shit ton of rumours spreading outside the company about me dating someone. They controlled most and knew any remaining ones would just turn into baseless gossip since nobody knew your identity. I’d just get talked about which I didn't care about. But people somehow started finding your face, your name, and your information was spreading fast. Management was scared you'd be made public especially with reporters and cameras so up our asses these days and watching us. I was terrified when they told me. I couldn't let anyone know you, not when they’d do or say shit to you just because we're together… so I had to do something."

Now it was your turn to stand in shock for several seconds, utterly wide-eyed at the bullet you didn't even know Taehyung was keeping from you. 

“What-what the fuck? What do you mean? When did this happen?" 

"The same time I started 'ignoring' you. Nobody pressured me to break up with you, but I was warned to dissolve the rumours asap. I took matters into my own hands by acting the way I did to get people thinking we were either broken up or never dating in the first place. I hated doing it.. but it started working. I didn't want to tell you anything because I knew you'd just say we could solve everything together when we weren't in a position to do so." Taehyung wasn't hiding his clear anguish, upset having to recall his awful memories of the ordeal.

You were still shocked at how little you knew, finding yourself at least understanding of his actions and reasoning, but crossed your mind better ways to have dealt with this; especially ones that didn't entail hurting you.

"But Taehyung, you should've let me known. If you had just told me I wouldn't have gotten hurt like this. Why would you keep this from me?"

"I just.. I couldn't tell you. It felt like I was breaking up with you and I couldn't handle it. Even when I finally had the balls to do it I ended up prolonging because I just got so busy and pushed everything away to focus. I felt like I could deal with it on my own, fix it all by myself. I didn't want to drop this on you when you were busy too." 

You exhaled harshly, hating how unfair this entire situation was. "You could’ve told me with something like this, Taehyung. I can't just let you carry the burden all on your own, this entire problem had to do with me. We promised we wouldn’t keep shit from each other especially considering the circumstances of our relationship. Why would you break that promise?" Your eyes welled up again, inhaling painfully. 

Taehyung paused, scoffing humorlessly. "Yeah? I broke that promise? Jagi...you broke that promise too." 

You blinked again, his eyes piercing yours poignantly as you could only look back at him in defeat. 

He was right. 

He was entirely right, you hid your feelings from him and never told him anything, a clear violation of that promise on your end. But you couldn't let his wrongdoings go either, not on this; the hurt, the doubt, the thoughts he made you think. That pain was making you fall apart and the reality of it all came crashing down on you. "An apology still can’t fix this, Taehyung. I want to go to bed, we'll talk about this tomorrow.” 

You pulled away and moved towards your room until Taehyung rushed in front of you, grabbing onto your arms.

“Wait! This isn’t over, baby please, just listen to me.” 

“It is for today, Taehyung. I can't do this right now.” 

“No, I don’t want tomorrow. I want this now, I want to talk to you now.” Taehyung insisted with what seemed like his entire being. He didn't want to spend tonight like this; he didn't want you to sleep upset, and neither did he. 

“Taehyung, you’re making me repeat myself. Let me go, please. I’m exhausted.” You choked on your words, swiping your tears. 

“No, I told you I’m not fucking letting you go, especially not now.” He gripped you stubbornly, searching for your eyes.

“Taehyung, for the love of God just let me go-”

“I said no!” Taehyung's volume suddenly pierced the room, his intense aura stilling you. 

He didn't sound angry. rather in need, like he was calling out to you with his entire heart and the tight hold on your arms gave it all away. 

You finally decided to pay attention to him. His tone beyond serious, his eyes swimming with worry. His miserable face and refusal to let you go regrettably softened you. You understood him, saw the desperation and concern behind all his actions. 

But he chose to neglect you. He made you feel alone, made you overthink numerous possibilities about your relationship and even question his feelings for you.

"You.." You exhaled with agony, swallowing hard. 

None of this was easy, the nights you spent curled up on the couch overthinking, lying to everyone that you were okay, working in the studio alone to get him off your mind, blaming yourself. The accumulated pain of all those days now manifested in your chest all at once, making your heart ache. 

"You made me feel like I wasn't important to you, like I wasn't worth your time. I.. thought you found someone better, easier.. that I wasn't enough for you." Your voice crumbled by the second, your mind jumping to the one conclusion you tried to avoid the most but couldn't any longer. 

"I thought you weren't in love with me anymore." 

Taehyung's heart shattered into a million pieces, overwhelming hurt piercing his chest so violently that tears instantly betrayed his eyes. 

He couldn't bear any of this anymore, the tension, the distance, couldn't bear that you ever thought such an awful thing. Small tears escaped him as he gently placed his hands on your face, looking into your eyes with insurmountable pain before colliding his lips with yours. 

He kissed you tenderly, passionately, like his mouth was dying to express how much he'd missed you, and trying harder to prove how utterly wrong your last words were. Before you could even reject him, you found your own lips mirroring the same longing, the same need after a painful month apart.

Your eyes fluttered shut as tears stained your cheeks, the sheer love you could feel in his kiss suddenly brightening any parts inside you that had grown dark because of him. He began working against your mouth hungrily, trying to commit every inch of your lips to his memory. 

The kiss was fervent, utterly desperate, your harsh breaths mingling together as his hands on your cheeks wiped your tears away gingerly and yours clutched his hoodie tightly.

It's like he was consuming all of you, attempting to deepen the kiss with every second that passed by as he pulled you closer. And for once this past month, you didn't feel like questioning his feelings for you, because he was now serving them on a silver platter, making it blatantly obvious he had never once lost his love for you and will never do so. 

He kissed you like he wanted you and only you, he kissed you like you were fleeting and could disappear at any moment, he kissed you like you were his home, like you meant any and everything to him, like you were the only galaxy he believed in and it did nothing but set you both ablaze.

His tongue swiped your bottom lip impatiently, wanting to taste you after so long and you permitted absent-mindedly, damning every emotion except love and lust to hell, welcoming him. 

His tongue entangled with yours sloppily as you slid your hands up his sculpted neck, a soft groan escaping Taehyung's lips once you tugged his hair. 

It wasn't until Taehyung caught your bottom lip between his teeth that you felt something ignite inside you. You both panted as you disconnected, gazing at his dark eyes for a mere second before impatiently crashing your mouth onto his again. 

This time you caught him for a heated make out session, pulling his hair aimlessly as Taehyung pressed you against him with his arms snaking around your waist, both of you moving perfectly in sync with one other. The feeling of your bodies so close ignited your arousals, currents running through both your veins.

Taehyung pushed you back against the nearest wall, hard. You nearly yelped at the contact but Taehyung swallowed it with his eager kisses, getting rougher, sloppier, growing high off the feeling of you wanting more, him wanting so much more.

He brought his thigh in between you, pushing his hips against yours and you felt his hardness through his sweatpants. Your panties practically soaked at the contact, your moans devastatingly loud and hot and only making Taehyung harder. 

He brought his hands down to cup your ass momentarily as he kissed you, sliding them to the back of your thighs. You kicked yourself off the ground into his hold, legs grappling Taehyung's waist as he forced you back up against the wall. Your hands grabbed his jaw tightly, wanting all of him as your tongues moulded together. 

Taehyung felt his urges to touch you overwhelm him, utterly dying to hear you desperately say his name and moan breathlessly into his ear. He had gone too long, far too long without feeling you lose yourself to him that he needed you now. 

One of Taehyung's impatient hands moved up to fumble with the button of your jeans, disconneting to look into your eyes, his pink, swollen lips irresistible. 

"Have you been touching yourself?" He breathed hard and asked mere centimeters your mouth, forehead leaning on yours. 

"B-barely. I couldn't get myself off the same way." You exhaled harshly trying to calm down, mind woozy from the sheer adrenaline he was pumping through you. "You?" 

"Tried, but nothing felt like you." 

Taehyung returned his lips to yours breathlessly and unzipped roughly, sliding his hand inside and finding your already sopping wet heat. His fingers made contact through the soaked material and you let out a satisfied moan, throwing your head back against the wall. Taehyung chuckled proudly, pressing his lips to your exposed neck as he began lewdly rubbing your folds. 

Your walls clenched around nothing, begging for something to fill you up. You shamelessly rode against his fingers, desperate for more friction and Taehyung absolutely adored how needy you were. 

He smirked to himself as he pushed your underwear aside, his fingertips suddenly touching your bare pussy and you automatically felt sparks, gasping. 

Taehyung felt your delicious wetness and a satisfied groan left his lips. He couldn’t stop rubbing you, playing with your folds like it was a game he mastered ages ago. His digits spread you all over yourself, teasing you. He purposefully brushed over your clit multiple times and you felt nothing but fireworks, the heat between your legs growing so hot you clutched onto his shoulders to stay sane.

"Fuck.. Taehyung fuck! If you go inside.. I can't.. I'll fucking lose it." You stammered out, trying to relax but Taehyung eyed your panting figure with a smirk so evil you wished he'd just fuck you against this wall right now. 

Taehyung brought his lips to your ear and spoke lowly, the bass in his voice sending chills down your spine. 

"Then fucking lose it." 

Without warning, Taehyung shoved his two fingers inside you, a smug grin decorating his gorgeous face as he watched you nearly cry out, gripping harder into his hair and shoulder for dear life. His fingers began sliding in and out, your walls welcoming him greedily as he pumped you, milking out every beautiful sound you could make for him as he relished in them. 

Taehyung was already the hardest man on Earth, his cock painfully tucked away in his pants and aching to be inside you. You brought your forehead against his for support as he went harder, your breaths melding as you panted fucked out moans from the sheer bliss of his long fingers, just something of his dragging inside you. 

Your body moved up against the rougher thrusts of his fingers, practically fucking you open and the delectable sting certifying you’d lost it for Kim Taehyung. 

You suddenly felt your insides beginning to stir around him and you panicked, not wanting to let go just yet, just on his fingers. 

"T-Taehyung.. shit.. I can feel but- but not just on this." Your head was so gone a coherent sentence seemed impossible. Taehyung's fingers curled up inside you as he pumped a little harder, faster, making you whimper against his mouth and he used every ounce of strength he had not to swallow them with kisses, just so he could hear you. 

"Taehyung, please.." You moaned loudly and held onto him so desperately that Taehyung finally snapped, his dick throbbing to have you wrapped around him and hear his name just like that.

"Fuck this." Taehyung pulled his fingers out and carried you straight into your room.

He threw you down onto the bed hurriedly, his eyes blown out as he positioned himself above you. You breathed unevenly as you looked up at him, his body rising and falling quickly as he tried to control himself and his hungry look made you push your thighs together. 

The sight of your flushed cheeks and panting body underneath him made Taehyung's dominant side thrive. He drank you in greedily, registering this as the first time in a month he had you all to himself. 

"You don't fucking know, Y/N. All those times I had to hold back. When you walked around the studio looking sexy as hell, moving your body like pure sin, and I couldn't do a single thing to you." Taehyung's dark eyes indicated something had awakened inside him.

"What do you mean?" 

Taehyung scoffed, "You just don't get it." He mimicked you from earlier. “I was putting on a front and none of it was true. Every fucking time I saw you I wanted to lose it. Every time I saw you concentrating with that look, working, seeing your exposed skin, all the times I caught you practically eye-fucking me and I wanted to eye-fuck you back." Taehyung breathed out, voicing his pent up tension. 

"But you know what was worse? The times I saw you laughing with fucking Jungkook, screwing around with Jin-hyung, the guys acting so close with you. Watching back-up dancers eye-fuck you, hearing all their fucking comments about how hot you are, people asking if you’re single now, and I couldn't do shit because everyone was always around, watching." Taehyung breathed frustratedly, dangerous eyes locked on you.

"You know I don't get openly jealous, but my blood still boils under my skin when I see or hear those things, especially when I can’t do anything about it. I wanted you.. so badly, just wanted to take you right there in front of everyone if I could.." Taehyung nearly growled as his head hung low, entangling his hands with yours and squeezing them on the bed. 

"Then why didn't you?" 

Taehyung's eyes flashed up amusedly, "Why didn’t-you wanted me to do something in front of everyone?” His confusion softened into a little smirk. 

“You wanted to be watched, huh?" Taehyung lowered himself to your ear.  "Wanted everyone see the way I fuck you? See the way I make you mine? Fuck you open for me?” Taehyung was setting your core on fire and you had to bite your lip. 

He noticed and hated that his lips weren't on yours, quickly planting them for a kiss. 

The weight of Taehyung's leg pushing against your throbbing heat started compromising your sense of control, wanting to rile him up so bad he'll have no choice but to give you what you want. 

"Fuck, this is what I've been waiting for. Teasing you under me, cumming just from my fingers and tongue, fucking you senseless until you’re cumming again." Taehyung's words were filthy as ever and you loved every syllable. 

"Then do it." 

He smiled smugly as his mouth moved to the one spot on your neck he knew leaves you squirming. Curses left your mouth the second you felt his teeth, Taehyung adamant on leaving deep, purple marks. 

“I'm gonna show everyone you're mine, only mine.” Taehyung’s authoritative voice came out breathy as he kissed and bit in between, obsessed with seeing the art he was creating. 

"Shit… Taehyung yes, I missed you, I missed you so fucking much." You desperately stammered out.

"I fucking missed you too, baby." He smiled, his dark eyes glancing from your zip-up sweater and back to you. "But first, off."

Your hands moved for the zipper until Taehyung caught your wrists and forced them back against the bed, obsidian eyes scolding you. 

"That's my job." Taehyung spoke dominantly, hot as fuck as he stared at you while bringing his mouth down to your zipper.

His teeth caught it and slowly zipped down your body, pronouncedly breathing against your bare skin that made you hiss, arching up into him as he held your hands down. 

Taehyung was welcomed by your bra-cladded chest, basking in the glory of seeing your body after so long. He began laying kisses in between your breasts, his every contact electric. 

"Taehyung, please.. don't tease. It’s been so long." 

"We'll see about that."

He reached a hand underneath your back to unclip your bra, practically ripping the clothes off you and chucking them. 

Taehyung was heating up drinking you in, cursing at how even the sight of your naked top was making him somehow harder. 

"Shit, Jagi. You're so fucking gorgeous." Taehyung stated with haste as his large hands found your thighs that rested either side of his hips. He then slowly slid them up your abdomen, cupping your breasts and fingering your nipples. Your hands reached out to hold onto him as you exclaimed but he roughly pinned them above you, restricting you. 

He lowered himself to your chest for hickeys, kissing, licking, nibbling the flesh of your boobs. You arched and groaned as he held you down, sexually frustrated as he torturously teased you. 

"Taehyung, please… you know what I want." You breathed out, your hands resisting but he kept denying you. 

"You’re so fucking hot like this, so impatient and needy for me." Taehyung groaned, lapping his tongue over the flesh of your breasts until the tip of his tongue finally glided over your perched nipple.

You gasped at the contact, whimpering as your walls clenched around something non-existent and you bucked up into Taehyung. You could feel heat pooling at your core, begging to be battered as he sucked on your nipples, tongue doing wonders.  

Marks now embellished your chest as he kissed down to your stomach affectionately and neared your lower half, exciting your opening. 

Your eyes darted down and suddenly caught his length, poking out from his sweatpants and practically begging for attention. 

He instantly took notice. 

"No, princess. It’s about you tonight, not me, no touching." Taehyung ordered seriously, looking at you with a sense of dominance that only left you more aroused. 

You made a whiny noise, "Why not? I want to make you feel good." You retorted, wiggling your hand out to touch him until Taehyung locked you down harder. 

He clicked his tongue as he began pulling your pants and panties down your legs with one hand, his dark eyes chastising you, "We'll get to me another day." He disregarded them and let his hand feel up your thighs, bringing his face to your entrance.  

"But right now, having you like this, begging-” he nipped at your inner thigh, “making those sounds-” he licked the marks, “wet as hell for me-” he sucked your flesh, “that's all I need." His tone dropped an octave, letting your wrists go and nearing your cunt inch by inch. 

"Taehyung, fuck-don't do this. Please, it's been too long, don't tease.." You pleaded, hating the way he was shamelessly working you up.

"Do you need me, baby?" Taehyung watched your breath hitch as he kissed around your nether lips. "Need to feel me inside you? Stretch you out? Fuck the shit out of you?" His low, dark tone made butterflies fill your abdomen and all you could manage was a light nod.

"Tell me, Jagiya. Tell me what you want from me, where you want me.." Taehyung breathed against your soaked pussy and you shivered, beyond impatient. 

"Y-your tongue, your cock, Taehyung, you. Please..I can’t do this.. just fuck me, make me come all over you.." You rambled and looked at Taehyung through hooded eyes. You grabbed one of his hands and brought him directly to your dripping heat, rubbing him against your slit unforgivingly.

Taehyung groaned proudly, "Good girl. I'll fuck you so good you’ll feel me for hours, so hard I’ll have to carry you to rehearsals myself." Taehyung's filthy words rang in your ears. 

A loud moan escaped you once Taehyung's pillowy lips and tongue pressed onto your pussy, your breath hitching as his muscle began licking into your folds. Taehyung hooked onto your thighs from underneath, parting your legs wider for him. Your hands found his broad shoulders for support and you tugged at his hoodie frantically, whining. 

"Taehyung, off.." 

Taehyung drew away from you to slide his top off. He threw the sweater mindlessly as he returned, deciding to sink two fingers inside you as his tongue began licking. His newly exposed skin made you feel more aroused, tugging his soft curls to manage the bliss he was supplying you. 

His tongue licked you like he was starving, sucking and flicking your clit occasionally as his fingers curled up inside your velvety walls. You felt like crying, after such a long time the pleasure was already building up inside you and so intense you needed to let go. 

"Taehyung-Tae.. I feel it. Don't stop..." You moaned weakly, your orgasm dawning on you as Taehyung quickened his pace. His dark eyes watched you through his fluffy fringe and it was intoxicating, had you throwing your head back against the pillow just to contain yourself. 

"Come for me baby, come all over my tongue and fingers. I wanna hear you.” Taehyung cooed at you as he pumped and the tip of his tongue played with your clit faster, soothing your thigh and adoring the wet mess in between you. Your loud moans and groans sent shivers down Taehyung's spine and blood straight to his cock. 

The familiar sensation of something coiling came to you, gripping Taehyung's hair until you saw stars and felt a fierce snap, the unholiest of noises leaving you as your back arched. You panted hard, bringing an arm up to shield your eyes, the pleasure of your high dizzying as Taehyung watched you, tasting and fingering out your orgasm. 

He kissed your entrance multiple times before he decided he was done. He straightened himself up and wiped your juices off his chin, licking your essence off him. Feeling you come undone on his mouth made him go feral, needing to feel your walls hug his cock just the same.

He positioned himself above you, gently moving your arm from your face. 

"Don't hide from me." he spoke softly, intertwining his hands with yours against the pillow to adore your fucked out expression. 

You admired him innocently in the moment, his honey-coloured skin kissed by the moonlight radiating through the windows. The expanse of his broad chest and shoulders looking more bulky now that he was working out, his thick neck, the beautifully visible veins in his arms that all created the art that was Kim Taehyung. 

Your eyes scanned over him greedily until you landed on his lower half, the tent in his pants looking so painful you again ached to relieve it.

Taehyung eyed you as you licked your lips, boldly reaching out for his dick. You touched sparingly, Taehyung instantly letting out a pleasurable groan until he caught your hand.

"What did I say? You never fucking listen, do you?" Taehyung brat-handled you, his alpha male on full display. 

“What if I don’t want to listen?” You disobeyed and reached out again, gaining full contact until he grabbed and forced your hand against the sheets. 

“I’ll make you regret that." 

Taehyung quickly shuffled his pants and boxers down and past his hips, disregarding them and leaving him bare before you. 

Your eyes began ogling the angry, red tipped cock that had sprung out, looking painfully uncomfortable and leaving you wishing Taehyung had just fucked your mouth just watch him suffer. He was already leaking precum, making you whimper at the thought of him coming inside you. 

Taehyung positioned himself in between your legs, bringing his dick to your entrance. He tried to bite away a mischievous grin before sliding his cock against your folds to mix your wetness with his.

"Shit, Jagi, you're so fucking wet." Taehyung moaned with you at the pleasurable feeling. 

"Fuck, Taehyung…I can’t, I need.. inside." Your sentence was mangled, his hot flesh against you heavenly. 

"Shit, saying my name like that..I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll feel me in your throat." Taehyung growled, gripping the base of his cock and aligning himself with your entrance. You readied yourself until Taehyung stopped, a thought suddenly popping into his head. 

"Wait, you got your shot this month, right? You're okay with raw?" He asked with no particular haste, concern glossing over his eyes. 

Taehyung's chest suddenly tightened realizing he didn't even know something as simple as you getting your shot, important to him since your phobia of needles was so bad you usually needed to hold his hand or talk to him on the phone. 

But he was so busy this month he couldn't do either.  

"Of course, Taehyung, of course I did." You breathed out erratically, trying to calm down after his tormenting cock sliding. You gave his hand that held yours against the bed a squeeze, wishing he would begin battering your insides already. 

"Fuck, I know how much you're afraid of needles.. I should've been there." Taehyung became disappointed in himself, eyes faltering from yours. 

You immediately grew soft, "Taehyung.. it's okay, if it's for you then I'm not so scared. Don't worry, bubs." You said as you let go of his hands to cup his cheeks, searching for his eyes. 

"But you get them just for me..even though you're so scared. I love you for that." Taehyung doted on you as he tucked your hair behind your ear, completely contrasting his cock about to abuse you. 

"Taehyung, baby it’s okay, I'm okay. I'm with you right now. I want everything you thought of, everything you want with me… I want you." You looked into his doe eyes tinted with guilt, offering him a smile. 

Taehyung returned a light smile of his own, pressing a feathery kiss to your lips before he grabbed the base of his cock again. He gripped your hand hard as his dick compromised your opening. 

He hissed once he sank in, the feeling of your pussy opening up for him eliciting a drawn out 'fuck' to leave his mouth. 

Taehyung could feel how tight you were after a month without him; you weren't as stretched out and he felt drunk. The way your walls hugged his rock hard dick so snug, so intoxicating he wanted to completely lose control but refrained with you in mind. 

You thought you were used to the pleasurable burn of Taehyung's gifted size, already aware of how well-endowed he is but you suddenly felt a harsh sting and forced your hands against his chest, exasperating. Taehyung immediately stopped, widening his eyes in concern. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Just-just give me a second." He nodded, feeling your breaths calm down as he soothed over your arm, your walls relaxing

"Y-you can move." You voiced weakly. 

Taehyung complied and moved in considerately, failing to suppress the low groans that left him. He finally bottomed out and hit your cervix, both of you letting out satisfied grunts at the feeling of him buried so deep. He could feel the way your walls pulsed around him to adjust, adding to his lists of reasons he was insane for you. 

Taehyung kissed you as he began fucking gently, slowly, wanting to feel the way you wrapped around him, craving for you to feel every inch, groove and vein of his cock. 

The feeling of him slowly and languidly thrusting inside you felt otherworldly, the longing, the care, the love in his movements so apparent you grappled the back of his neck to hug him closer. Taehyung rocked himself against you, laying deep kisses to your mouth.

"Fuck, baby.. you're so tight." Taehyung breathed out, unable to hold back his sense of control, gradually fastening his pace to fuck you better, feel more. 

"How does it feel, princess, tell me." Taehyung cooed into your ear, now kissing underneath your jaw. Your lewd noises grew louder as he began pumping faster and Taehyung looked at you. 

"Shit, Taehyung. I-I feel so fucking good. You fill me up so good… want more.” You practically whined, head spinning at his intoxicating pace, wrapping your legs around Taehyung's torso to feel him deeper. 

Taehyung weakened at the feeling, kissing your lips with fervor and now thrusting faster as his need to come undone racked his balls, but aching to treat you first. His skin was imprinted with your scratches, him only fucking you faster in response. 

"Harder, Taehyung, fuck me harder..!" Your voice trailed with a mewl, kissing him sloppily as your desire for more of him grew unbearable. 

Taehyung smirked against your lips, "You want it harder, huh? You like that? Want me to fuck up your insides? Batter this pussy up?" 

"Y-yes, Taehyung, please." 

Taehyung already felt fucked out, wrestling with your tongue as he wrapped his arms around your torso and pressed you flush against him. You both groaned louder as his pace turned unforgiving, 99% sure your neighbours could hear every lewd sound. 

"Taehyung.. fuck. I missed you. I missed you so much!” You spoke without a thought, light-headed but hyper aware of just how much you wanted him, needed him, not only with his cock buried inside you but just him, so close to you. 

"Shit, baby.. I missed you more. So much. So fucking much, you don’t even know." Taehyung growled desperately as he fucked deeper, kissed harder, his tone coated with sincerity. 

Both your confessions made for rougher fucking, nasty tongue kissing, tighter grasps on each other. You rutted against one another shamelessly, movements faltering in precision and more so in desperation as Taehyung shoved himself inside you. 

And he watched as he did, seeing the way he disappeared into you between your bodies and enjoying the way you bounced in response. 

"Taehyung, fuck, Taehyung.." You moaned out his name breathlessly as you gripped his shoulders, feeling your abdomen flood with heat as his cock kissed your cervix. 

"Jagiya, fucking-watch it, say my name like that again and I'll fuck the living shit out of you." Taehyung warned with a growl as he rammed into you. 

"T-Taehyung.."

“Such a bad fucking girl." 

His arms suddenly locked you down in place, holding you tight as he began the roughest, hardest thrusts you've felt all night. Taehyung deliberately pulled all the way out only to smash back in as he felt your body jerk up in response, swallowing your whimpers.

Your moans were loud, ringing in your own ears as you felt yourself losing your sanity. He snapped into your gut, filled you up so good all you could feel was him. Your orgasm was bubbling in your stomach, begging for release now. 

"Taehyung, I'm gonna- fuck, I'm gonna come!”  You warned him with a pitchy yelp, the tingling feeling unbearable as his body rubbed against your clit. 

"Come for me, baby, all over my fucking cock, Let me feel you." Taehyung encouraged as he desperately tried to hold his own load, wanting nothing but to witness the way you came underneath him.

And out of nowhere your second orgasm washed over you, barely noticing the snap as you ached from oversensitivity and protested him to a halt. Taehyung controlled himself as your walls continuously clamped down on him, watching you pant from fatigue. 

But he decided on your punishment and suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, instinctively settling on all fours as you felt him prod your entrance. He pushed you to arch your back and pulled your ass up, giving a nice smack before kissing up your back like the demon he is. He sank in with no warning and began drilling into you again, setting a merciless pace and angling himself to fuck you completely open. 

“T-Taehyung, what are you doing!”

“You’re coming for me again.”  

“I can’t- Taehyung I can’t!” Your hand quickly came down to entangle with his on your hip, his deft fingers boring into your skin as he mercilessly buried every inch of his cock into you.

“You can do it! Just one more time for me princess, let go for me.” He coaxed you as he felt your walls pulsating around him again, his arms hugging your body to his and mouth breathing unevenly near your ear. 

"Taehyung, Ah- fuck! C-come inside me, please!”

"Shit, I’ll stuff you with my cum, fucking give you my kids!”  Taehyung grunted as he continued bartering your pussy, reaching down to roughly rub your clit. You cried out, half from sensitivity but half from pure pleasure, gripping his hand hard. 

You felt the coil coming back for a third time and Taehyung’s encourgements were doing absolute wonders. "Taehyung-shit I’m gonna..fuck!”

Once he delivered a particularly hard, deep thrust with his hand on your clit, you gasped out his name as another orgasm released through your body, temporarily blinding you with bliss. Your legs grew weak as you buried your face into the pillow, trying to catch your breath. 

“Just like that, baby, just like that.” Taehyung spoke supportively as he thrusted one last time before finally coming inside you, helping you ride out your climax. He groaned into your ear as he spurted hot stripes of cum inside you. You squeezed his hand on your stomach that still held you up, feeling him milk himself of every drop he had racked up just for you. 

Once Taehyung felt completely vacant of his seed, relief washed over him as he kissed your upper back, both of your bodies lax and panting for air. 

"You're amazing." Taehyung tried steadying his breathing, beaming as he hugged you from behind, cock still throbbing inside you. "I fucking… I held that back for so long."  

"You didn’t have to… I would've thrown myself at you if you just came home." You breathed shallowly.  "Could've done whatever you wanted.. I planned...on treating you cause you were so stressed." 

Taehyung rolled his eyes at himself, "Ugh-don’t remind me. I already feel dumb as fuck." 

You turned your head back and scolded jokingly, "Don't call yourself dumb, only I get to say that." A soft giggle escaped him as he let you go. Taehyung slowly pulled out and watched as he did so, viewing the mess in between your legs with admiration. 

Taehyung swiped the cum dripping down your thighs back into your core, completely stuffing you with him until he brought his fingers to your lips. He watched you lick provocatively, his breath hitching at the sight until needing to pull his fingers out. 

He then quickly made off the bed and ambled over to the bathroom, retrieving a damp towel and cleaning you up gingerly. He plopped down next to you after discarding it and threw an arm over his eyes. 

You turned to look at him, feeling the butterflies of him next to you flood your chest. You wiggled closer and propped yourself on an elbow to gaze at him, your other arm laying on his chest. 

Taehyung felt your eyes on him and spoke without looking. "Hi."

"Hi," you moved his arm from his face, echoing him. "Don’t hide from me."

Taehyung grinned at you, lifting his arm. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" 

"Like you're madly in love with me. Don’t do that, I don't really deserve it." He stated dejectedly, evading your eyes to rather view the night sky. 

"Kim Taehyung, what did you just say to me?" 

No response. 

You sighed, "Bubs, look at me." requesting with a softer tone and he returned his eyes to you hesitantly. You wagged your finger at him.

"Don't say that, okay? Maybe you should’ve told me, maybe I should’ve been more vocal about my feelings, maybe we both should’ve just communicated. It's not only your fault, it's mine too so please don't say that." Your bottom lip jutted out and your eyes implored him, upset that he was insulting himself. 

He deserved every ounce of love in this world. 

"Maybe.. I just..Fuck, you need to know I hated doing it, okay? Every time I saw you in that building I was dying to be with you, but I had to hold back to protect you. I couldn’t bear something happening to you, and please, please don’t think I don’t love you anymore. I do, I love you more than you’ll ever know. If I could throw all of this away for you I would." Taehyung spoke sincerely, remembering the way he saw you admit such an awful thought and he hated that he was the cause of it.

"You really don’t know how hard it was. I’m writing lyrics for my mixtape and they all end up about you. We're out at a photoshoot and I always wanted to send you pictures. I didn’t use SNS, call or text you because I knew it’d just be harder for me to create that stupid ass distance.” Taehyung ran a hand through his hair as he sighed, frustrated about it. 

“Even when I was shooting commercials I thought about your reactions if you saw them. I missed you the whole time, more than you know. I just couldn’t risk anything, there was so much on the line with you and I wasn’t going to give you up. Work got in the way and there was so much happening and I just-" 

“Shh shhh.” You calmed him down reaching for his cheek. “Thank you for that. I'm sorry you had to do everything by yourself, had to carry all that responsibility alone." Your lips quivered, catching Taehyung's attention. 

"No, it's okay. I'm the one who made you think all those shitty things. I do find you annoying, but I could never find you that annoying." Taehyung quipped to lighten the mood and you smacked his chest. 

"Hey!" 

"I'm kidding, Jagi." Taehyung chuckled before letting out a long, hard sigh. "I was just so swamped with this comeback, I’m working really hard for it and got too focused." He explained regretfully, tucking his hands underneath his head. 

"So you just thought fuck me for a little while, right?"

"Wha-no I didn't, I mean.. I did just fuck you but-not like that…shit, just come here!” Taehyung suddenly turned onto his side and threw his arms out, you scooted over to him instantly, giggling. He tightly wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close, pressing his lips to your hair and you kissed his shoulder.

Your hand absentmindedly found his and you intertwined them, causing a warm and comforting feeling to spread across your chest. 

You found yourself becoming smaller in his hold, clutching his hand to compose yourself because you didn't feel like ruining a passionate night with tears. 

Nonetheless, Taehyung sensed you growing vulnerable and pulled you on top of him, your naked bodies flush against one another. Taehyung immediately showered you with comfort, clutching you close to him.

"I’m not going anywhere, you’re with me for a lifetime, Jagiya." The smooth bass of Taehyung's voice eased you, reverberating from his chest as he senselessly soothed your back.

"Please, don't do that again. Please just tell me next time when there's a problem, I'll tell you too and we can work it out together." A hint of desperation tinted your tone, shutting your lips together to prevent yourself from crying.

"I won't, baby, I promise." Taehyung hugged you a little tighter, running a hand through your hair. 

"I love you, Taehyung." 

"I love you, Y/N." 

[calumxkisses]

Sweet Creature | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: i think implied smut?

summary: request - Heeyyy, can you do one, where they have a big fight and they are in quarentine, and they stop talking to each other, and the sleep in different rooms, with cal... kiss from brazil 🇧🇷

a/n: this is one of my favorite song! let me know what you think about it! i hope you enjoyed it ;)

you should read this imagine while listening to: sweet creature

➳

“What the hell is wrong with you?” a scream comes out of your lungs. Your face has turned red, your head hurts and you feel your heart pounding. Your throat is now dry and you feel your nails sticking into the palm of your hand.

What Calum notices, however, are the tears running down your face and the pain behind your eyes. What hurts him the most, though, is knowing he is the cause of your pain. He would like to hug you, tell you that he is sorry, that he loves you and that he doesn't even remember why you are fighting, but his pride prevents him from being the person he would like to be. The person you are in love with.

“All you do is whine.” he screams out, rolling his eyes and letting out a snort.

This discussion was the straw that broke the camel's back, filled by being forced to stay at home, by a canceled tour and canceled parties but, above all, by the concern of a world that is in chaos, with a fatal virus that spreads like wildfire.

He is worried, he feels the burden of not having to disappoint anyone, of being a good person who says the right things, of being a child who cares about their parents who live on the other side of the world and cannot go to visit, reassure, and that he can only see through a mobile phone screen.

“I have a right to be angry, you know that, right?” Your voice calms down a bit, but anger still runs through your veins. You walk up and down the room, with one hand on your forehead and being careful not to step on the broken glass of the fallen vase.

Calum has spent the last few weeks in the studio, out in the garden practicing, or locked in a room, anywhere but with you. He preferred to wake up early and go to sleep late, feel cold instead of holding you and skipping meals to avoid being with you.

For the first time in days, you get a good look at him: his hair has grown, as has the beard surrounding his face, he has terrible dark circles and the vein on his neck comes out prosperous, underlining how much he is screaming.

You felt abandoned, alone, left on the sidelines, and your feelings were amplified by the impossibility of going to someone, just to escape from that situation, to be held by someone else or just to talk over a coffee with a friend.

The only thing you could have done, was to ask him why, what you had done to deserve such treatment, and to spend some time together. And that’s where the scream started.

Tears roll down your face and you run your hand under your eyes to wipe them away. If you didn't notice them before, now the pinch caused by their wake has become hard to ignore.

“Are you going to cry now? God, you’re making me regret being with you. I really wish you weren’t born.”

Calum feels the pain it caused you before even reading the expression on your face. He puts his hand in front of his mouth in hopes of being able to block the words, but they have already left his lips and have come straight into your ears, getting stuck under your skin and breaking even the last pieces of the broken heart you have left.

His words hit you like a bolt from the blue. Arguing often leads to saying unthinkable words and among all the things you've been yelling at each other in the last hour, some bad words have certainly escaped, but nothing so terrible.

You feel a pain in your chest never felt before, deep and intense, and even the tears stop flowing. You inhale deeply, seeking relief in a breath of air and waiting for your body to react in any way, all is better than feeling full of pain. The room starts spinning, your head feels full and empty at the same time, and your legs struggle to bear the weight of your body.

Calum carefully scans your face, looking for any reaction from you to understand how much your mind has absorbed his words. His stress, his worries have led him to be a different person and the fear that you may leave him has terrified him, but his insecurities have done the opposite of what one expects, making he walk away from you and treating you coldly, and now he fears that he is really on the verge of being alone, with his broken heart in his hands, ready to mend every wound himself.

You didn’t deserve this.

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.” You whisper, lifting your face and looking him straight in the eye. The words he used, the coldness of his tones and the loneliness in which he left you have piled on top of each other on your chest, making it difficult for you to even breathe. You need time, space, whatever helps you figure out what to do.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a shaky voice. His eyes are glossy, his hands are shaking and his face has lost color. His heart carries so much goodness and you know it wasn't his intention to hurt you, but his words were like stab wounds and you need to take care of them now.

You don't want to leave, and not because you can't take a plane, but because Calum means too much to you and leaving is not an option to consider. If it ever ends up between you, after all you've been through, it should be in a more dignified way and not because of a stupid fight and insincere words.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room for a while and then we’ll see what to do.” Is all you can say and all you can do.

“So you’re not leaving?”

“I don’t think so, at least not now.”

Silence.

And that silence means everything and nothing.

You pick up the pieces of your shattered heart and, after casting one last look at the boy in front of you, you take refuge in a room that doesn't belong to you. The air in the guest room is different, you can't breathe the love that characterizes every corner of yours and Calum's and even the sheets seem different, cold, painful. You put a hand through your hair and lean on the door, slowly sliding towards the floor and letting go of your frustration.

Calum closes his eyes and puts his hands to his face as his body slumps onto the sofa behind him. The house reigns in silence, the only audible sound is your sobs in another room and, before he knows it, he starts crying too. He doesn't care about wiping his face or stopping the moans that come out of his mouth, he deserves to feel awful and humiliate himself like that, the guilt is devouring him and he just thinks about how he wishes he could disappear, to make your life easier.

When you first met, he knew you were the right person from the first look you gave him. Behind your eyes, deep in the irises, there was a whole world, made of kindness, love and joy. You had your demons, but the strength you emanated made it clear that you were able to overcome them, even without knowing it. A world that he wanted to discover, with delicacy and patience, and in which he wanted to live.

But what he feared most was bringing darkness into the light you emanated, turning your smiles into tears and your heart into a mass of sharp pieces.

He had told you, while you were eating some heated pizza on a rainy morning, your legs were on his and your face on his shoulder. And you had caressed his face, wiping away the dirt on his lip with your thumb, assuring him that you would have love him anyway and that you would have happily shared some of your light, and then you had kissed him, and that kiss tasted like tomato sauce and love, a combination you still love with all your heart.

And now, the only thing he can do, besides pitying himself, is wondering if you're regretting sharing your joy with him, if you'd rather stay full of light instead of welcoming his demons. And he fears your answer is yes.

Duke rubs his face on his leg, asking for scratches but also showing his affection. He doesn't know what happened and Calum wonders if the dog, who loves you more than any other person has crossed the threshold of your home, would look at him differently knowing that he broke the heart of the person he loves most.

If so, as his mind is trying to convince him, he couldn't handle it. He would not be able to live knowing that he has let down another being he cares about. Because he cares about you, but it is difficult for him to show it, the fear of rejection is stronger than he would like.

So, he lowers himself a little and gently strokes the dog, hoping to be able to receive that affection he is so afraid of losing.

As Calum's world shatters before his eyes, you take care to gently reassemble what's left of yours. You're still on the floor, getting up takes too much energy and a motivation that you can't find.

How you feel about the guy down the hall cannot be described in words, there is no way to describe what his gaze makes you feel, the way his words reassure you or how his love warms your heart up. It just works like this. Your love does not need big gestures or difficult words and never like now, it is better to absorb the silence and be lulled by the air.

Perhaps it would have been better to remain silent, let the cold of his words slip on you and learn to live in the loneliness in which he left you, but you couldn't go on like this. Not fighting would have meant not caring about him or your relationship and that's exactly the opposite of how things are. He had to know how you felt and what you were missing.

The sweet sound of his voice or the warmth of his skin are essential for you, not only on a love level, but in the daily routine of your life. A routine that had changed, which was no longer full of joy and smiles, light and perfume, but of demons that wandered undeterred around the walls of your home, ready to bring the cold into your souls.

And that routine, once full of love, was now non-existent. No more words had been said between you, no meal had been eaten together and your bed had forgotten what love meant. The stars, ever present witnesses of the passion that surrounded your bodies, were now always absent, covered by gray clouds and black skies. Even the moon, which guards all lovers, shone with a paler and more blurred light.

The moon gave way to the sun, the grass grew and the days alternated on the calendar. And yet, it seemed to you that you were still still that afternoon. Sure, breathing had become less difficult and the tears had stopped flowing on your face, but even in the middle of spring the coldness brought chills on your body.

You have no idea what he is doing, occasionally you see the shadow of his shoes behind the door of the guest room or you hear broken melodies coming from the studio, but his face becomes more and more unknown.

You spend your days studying, working, playing with Duke or reading your favorite books. You wake up late and go to sleep early, hoping to feel less lonely.

The truth, however, is that you miss him immensely, like water in the desert or milk after eating spicy food. You need to be able to get lost in his eyes or just hold his hand. The headache meds don't work like his kisses on your forehead, and no number of blankets could bring you the same warmth that a hug from him gives off.

You feel so pathetic to need him by your side, but after so many years of loneliness, he was able to convince you that you were worthy of being loved just like everyone else and, specifically, that he would love you more than anyone else. And he had done it, always and anyway, for the sake of the joyful news and the bad of your depression, he had always been there, ready to show you that you were worth it.

He wants to do it, he wants to continue to hold you and to tell you how beautiful you are, how honored he feels to be the keeper of your heart and the champion of your love, but he believes that no apology would bring serenity to your sky.

What is he supposed to do? No words would express the humiliation he feels whenever he thinks back to your fight and his behavior, no hug or kiss would bring love into your broken heart.

He spent his nights awake, the insomnia caused by his thoughts was making it impossible for him to live. The table seemed too big and the bed too uncomfortable, the bass was always out of tune even as he spent hours adjusting its strings and no melody seemed catchy enough to lift your mood in the other room. He knew that when you were sick, listening to him play brought some peace to your troubled world, but now no sound would chase the bad weather away.

None of his gestures would be enough to show how bad he feels. Nothing can express the pain he feels and the regret of his words.

However, 3 years of relationship is enough for him to know what makes you smile. There is one song in particular, in the immense repertoire that is your music library, that you love to hum and listen to when the silence is too loud.

So, wearing his best shirt and trying to fix the clump of his hair, he sits down at the piano in the living room and, after taking a deep breath, he tries to voice his thoughts.

Sweet creature

Had another talk about where it's going wrong

But we're still young

We don't know where we're going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

As you put down your favorite book after reading it again, Calum's sweet, broken voice spreads throughout the house, bringing a sense of comfort to your heart. You can hear the pain behind his voice, and even though you know your wounds will take some time to heal, the words he screamed at you lose their value. One part of you is still angry but the other, curious and in love, wastes no time getting you out of bed and walking towards the room.

The piano overlooks the garden, the sun shines above and illuminates all the plants. Duke is chasing a butterfly, its tail wags quickly and some leaves are stuck in its fur. Calum has his back to you, his back leaning slightly forward as he looks outward, but his mind wanders somewhere else.

You lean on the door jamb that separates the two rooms and close your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the music and breathing regularly, giving your body respite from all the accumulated stress.

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

Sweet creature

We're running through the garden

Oh, where nothing bothered us

But we're still young

I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

Calum watches the garden as the lyrics of the song automatically come out of his mouth. He was never good at playing the piano but, during the nights spent away from you over the years, he promised himself to learn all your favorite songs so he could sing them to you whenever you needed them.

And while Duke rolls around in the grass, he can't help but think about the thousand picnics you had on that same lawn, the laughter you shared and all those moments when he always fell in love a little more looking at you.

And even if the song doesn't belong to him, he can still feel every single word and a small tear falls down his face.

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

I know, it's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You take a few steps forward and, after taking a deep sigh, sit next to him. Calum winces at the contact but his face turns into a big smile after seeing you. He doesn't know if you're still mad at him or if his singing worked, but being able to see you again after so many days spent in agony brings a sense of peace to his messed up world. He knows that this song is not enough, that he will have to prove a lot more to you - even if you will probably forbid it - but knowing that he has you there, frees him from a weight that he carried inside.

And as usual, there is no need for words, he just needs to feel your head resting on his shoulder to know that you have come back to him. And when your hands touch his, he feels at home again.

Almost automatically, your hands begin to move to the rhythm of the music and your fingers touch the keys of the piano, accompanying Calum in the melody, just as he taught you.

Duke is rolling in the grass, the butterfly now forgotten, and his happy face is illuminated by the sun. It seems that the sky has returned to shine too, not just your eyes, and the pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly again.

I know when we started

Just two hearts in one home

It gets harder when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You'll bring me home

There was no need to talk to him, or to explain, risking losing you was necessary for him to understand that something was wrong, that he had to find the right path, that you can risk skidding, the important thing is getting back on track.

“I am grateful to your mother for bringing you into the world, but even more grateful to you for being a part of my life. I'm sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. I love you and I always will.” He whispers, placing his hands on his thighs, as soon as he finishes singing the last words. His words are sincere, you can perceive the displeasure behind his tone and you know he believes what he says.

He kisses you on the forehead and, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, he rests his face on your head, closing his eyes and absorbing the silence, a cautious silence, full of peace and fresh air.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, closing your eyes in turn and letting yourself be lulled by the peace and serenity found. You know that everything will be fine, that even if you’ll have other fights, you will always find a way to get back to each other.

-

[s-brant]

The Endless Summer (2/?)

(gif: @beccs) (PART ONE) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: A day out on the water goes awry and puts JJ, John B, and Y/N in danger. With tensions rising and the stakes higher than ever, JJ finds it difficult to control his feelings.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, graphic violence, and JJ being an emotionally confused asshat.

A/N: Welcome back! Thanks for the love on this series, I’m so glad you guys like it and I hope this part is just as good. Things get a little heated in this chapter, so buckle up. Let me know if you enjoyed this. Have fun!

JJ isn't sure why she did it.

He wasn't sure then and he isn't sure now, but he knows one thing for certain: there isn't any going back to how things once were now that the barrier between them came crashing down.

Sweat drips off of his skin from the relentless heat of the Caribbean that has made their recent lives hell with the painful tinge of sunburn atop their tans and heat exhaustion they must be careful to avoid at all costs. They were educated on both topics by Pope, their godsend of a survival encyclopedia in human form, who advised them to spend most of their day outside of necessary tasks like fishing and constructing stable shelter under the shady cover of the treetops.

The sole reason he and John B aren't hiding in the safety of the shade is that it's their day to fish, but he's not thinking about the sun. In fact, neither of them is. They're both wondering where their third fishing buddy is.

It took roughly ten minutes of spearfishing with him in comfortable silence for JJ to finally break and spill his guts about what happened last night. Though there was an unspoken agreement to never tell anyone that their hatred has turned into desire, he couldn't help it. He was going mad trying to unravel it in his head.

After all, he already had a conversation with JB about the recent shift in their behavior with each other by the ocean last night, so it seems fitting to pick up where they left off with the calm and clear blue water in front of them again.

He walks on the jagged outcropping of rock that serves as their perch to observe the fish without disturbing the pattern of the current they swim through with John B closely behind.

"One second she's pissed at me, the next she's all over me. It makes no sense. Then, she didn’t say anything to me after it happened," JJ says with his face hardened into a look of concentration at the fish he squints against the sun to aim at, "Not even "Fuck you, Maybank" or one of her weirdly creative threats. She just sat there all night and talked to everyone but me."

His gaze slips away from the water as his chosen fish disappears from sight before he can bother to throw the spear, eyeing up his friend's reaction to the news.

John B doesn't seem that surprised by it, because who else, aside from everyone else in Kildare who knows of their "hatred" for one another, could've seen it coming as much as he did? He considers it for a second, then props his arm up on the handle side of the spear he digs into the rock to lean against.

"I'm pretty sure that means she likes you."

JJ retorts, "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say."

Why would anyone ignore a person they like? It makes no sense to him. Every time he wanted a person, he'd simply walk over and make it happen. It's never been difficult for him to pursue the people he finds himself attracted to...Well, except for her. For a guy that also ignored her for the rest of the night and pretended their moment in the woods didn't happen, he has some balls of steel to be chastising her for the same things he did.

John B shrugs and says, "I'm being serious, dude. Sarah wouldn't even acknowledge my existence when I worked on the Druthers, and I thought it was some stuck-up rich person thing but it wasn't."

They shouldn't be talking at all right now as to not scare away the fish, but they do it anyway. They both know he won't let it go until it's out of his system for good. He wouldn't allow himself to forget it if he wanted to, so its better to talk it out than turn stir crazy from ruminating over it 24/7.

Though it's, as he worded it yesterday, hot as balls out, being by the sea lessens the feeling of it by a landslide.

The breeze they crave whenever they work on their huts or forage through the forest for wild berries, coconuts, or potential building supplies blows on them without pause for the time they spend here, which almost makes it more dangerous. They stand under the direct harm of the UV rays frying them without truly feeling it burn yet, and he dreads the next few days in anticipation of the returning sunburn he just peeled off of his shoulders the other day.

JJ walks down the side to get a better view of the water, balancing precariously on the sharpened edge with the spear clenched tightly in one hand. The breeze is strong enough to threaten his balance, but he holds firm and digs his toes into the sedimentary rock for traction. His body sways in the midday sun with the struggle for stability, or, at least he suspects its midday.

Since being stranded here, time is a foreign concept to them. With no phones, clocks, or any guide to go off of other that the position of the sun above to display the hours that pass, they've lost complete track of what day it is, let alone how long minutes or hours truly are in comparison to the endless summer they live within. They suspect it's been a month since they were left here, but, in all honesty, it could be two. None of them had the sense to mark the days in a tally until it was too late.

He says, lifting his arm to throw the spear, "Well, she is a stuck up rich person, so maybe it's just—"

"You know I'm right here, don't you?"

The sound of her voice from a few feet behind them startles JJ into turning around to look at her right when he lets go of the spear.

Unfortunately for him, the jerking movement throws off his carefully distributed weight and skews his balance, making the feet placed on the edge slip from underneath him and send him slipping down into the water. His calf is the first body part to hit the rocks, and the groan of pain he lets out at the feeling of the jagged rock slicing through his skin could make her heart stop mid-beat. But what truly scares her is seeing the back of his head hit the ground too.

Before he can slide the rest of the way into the water, two pairs of hands are grabbing onto his arms and heaving him up with all of their strength. She and John B grit their teeth with the effort it takes to pull him back up, their muscles burning from the strain, and once his feet are over the ledge, he pushes off the rock to help them the rest of the way. Drops of his blood disperse into the water off the edge from where he cut himself, dripping until there's hardly any left.

Once he's safely laid back down a few feet from where he slipped, Y/N is kneeling in front of him in a matter of seconds. The rock beneath her knees opens small cuts into her skin, but she doesn't pay it any heed. She sits on her heels to lessen the minor pain and lean forward to inspect the damage he took with nothing on her mind other than worry.

Soon enough, John B joins her to kneel at his feet as he sits up and watches them eye up his injury as though it’s some sort of ghastly, life threatening thing instead of a gash that won't need stitches. He watches them against the glittering ocean, waves washing up on the rocks around them to sting his wound with saltwater.

"It's a scratch, not an amputation," JJ says.

She ignores him with a frown lining her pretty features and twists his leg by the ankle to get a better view of the wound in the sunlight. It extends up the entire length of his calf, almost from ankle to knee, and dribbles fresh blood onto her hands as well as the ground beneath them. From what he can tell, it doesn't look all too severe. No muscle or bone can be seen, so it's a simple, superficial scratch.

When he doesn't get a response from either her or John B while they're too busy checking out his leg, he says again, "Guys, I'm serious, it's fine."

This time, she doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Yeah, well you may not need stitches but you still have infection to worry about. This wilderness isn't exactly the cleanliest place," she says retorts with as much snark as usual, and he quietly rejoices in the fact that she's finally acting normal after what happened last night, "Not to mention, you hit your head pretty hard. There's no need to act all tough."

He shrugs.

"It's not an act, it really doesn't hurt that bad."

John B stands and smears the blood on his hands off on the front of his shorts.

"I'll be right back, guys, I'm gonna go get stuff to patch him up."

Just like that, they are left plunging into silence as he is running away down the peninsula back to the beach they've claimed as their own.

Silence has always been her least favorite thing to share with JJ. She'd rather anything over it—screaming, fighting, joking, friendly conversation, or even what they did together yesterday night. Anything is preferable over the tense and insufferable feeling of silence when they're alone together with none of their friends, or their playful hatred, between them as a barrier between them.

Instead of seeing the same pestering jerk she always used to when she looks at him, she sees the memory of how he looked at her in the woods. He didn't look at her like she was the worst person to ever walk the planet, or like she was his least favorite Kook "Princess", he looked at her like she meant something to him.

They sit together in uncomfortable silence in the time it takes John B to rush to the beach and back, careful not to slip on the rocks the way JJ did, with the supplies from the dinghy in his arms. It isn't much to work with, but at least it's something to keep the nasty wound on his leg protected from dirt and germs. She's sure he'd leave it uncovered and up to fate if he had it his way.

Before he can set them down on the wet rocks, thus ruining the gauze and bandages in craters filled with ocean water, she gestures at JJ with a stern command, "Take off your shirt."

His brows raise.

"Shit, Princess, take me out to dinner first."

She groans in frustration, "Can you be quiet for a second and actually listen to me for once?"

He catches John B's gaze with wide eyes, but complies nonetheless, reaching down to tug the tank off of his torso by the frayed hem until it's balled up in his closed fist to hand off to her. Her eyes only linger on his body for a quick second on accident before snatching it from him.

Her bloodstained palms lay the shirt out on the flattest stretch of rock she can find to act as a barrier from the small puddles of water to protect the supplies. One nod at John B has him setting them down atop the navy fabric as she glances up at JJ with a smug smile.

"Believe it or not," she taunts, unscrewing the cap to the disinfectant, "I didn't ask for it so you could sit there and look pretty."

The words throw him back in time to their conversation on the beach while they thatched the roof to their hut, and he wonders how long she's been waiting to throw that back in his face since he first said it.

He grins at her as he asks, "You think I'm pretty?" but before he can say more, she's pouring a generous amount of the hydrogen peroxide along the length of his cut without a warning for him to prepare himself. His leg jerks away on instinct to save himself from the burning sensation, but she grips his ankle tightly enough to force him to stay still.

His nose scrunches up with the urge to groan in pain, and he does a little. Through grinding teeth, he winces in response to the peroxide slipping into every cell of open skin and bubbling up like the white water of the waves as it kills the bacteria lingering in the gash.

"Does it hurt now?" Y/N asks.

She's looking up at him through her lashes with her lips curled into a smirk as she packs gauze onto the wound until it's covered to her satisfaction. And it should be the last thing he's thinking about right now after cutting up his leg and hitting his head hard enough to worry her about concussions, but he can't help it. Looking down at her like this, it's impossible for him to not think about the unfinished business they have.

Everything is the same as it was yesterday—the tattered white top, the red panties in place of a bikini, sunburnt cheeks, and a taunting look that he'll never get tired of seeing. But that's precisely why he's reminded of it. She's wearing the same clothes and looking at him the way she did on the beach before any of last night's antics occurred, and he can't keep himself from wondering if it'll happen again.

"Yeah," he finally responds.

Her smirk grows for a second before she gets back to work.

"Good."

JJ subtly eyes her up from where she shifts on her knees to set the open gauze wrappers under the peroxide bottle in exchange for the bandage wrap, but he isn't as subtle as he thinks. She can feel his stare no matter how sneaky he attempts to be. He may be able to evade John B's attention, since he dove into the ocean to retrieve the wooden spear that began to float out in the tide, but she never misses a thing. Not when it comes to him.

When he looks at her, he finds memories.

Her legs folded up beneath her bring him back to how smooth they felt on his palms when he lifted them up around his hips. Her rosy lips pressing into a line in concentration bring him back to the coconut flavor he tasted on them. Her nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt bring him back to when he lifted it up over her breasts to suck at the sensitive skin until he got a moan from her—There isn't a place he can stare without going back to last night.

Part of him hates that.

He can't stand that a girl who he spent the last five years hating has found a way into his daydreams. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Why did she have to lure him into her trap? He supposes there's nothing he can do about it now, though. After hours of stewing over it, he's reached the conclusion that it was likely a one-time thing, a mistake made in the heat of the moment that she won't make again, and he should get the idea of it out of his head.

When she has to adjust her grip to hold the gauze in place while she wraps the bandage around his leg, he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and jerks away again. She glances up at him with her best, "Are you kidding me?" face. Didn't he say he was tough?

"I'm starting to think you're a sadist, 'cause it's like you're trying to make it hurt," he says.

She gasps, feigning offense.

"Me? Enjoying this? It's not like we've hated each other for years or anything."

And though he may not realize it, this is her way of distracting him from the pain of having her apply added pressure to his cut while she wraps the bandage into place. It has to be tight enough to keep water and sand out, but not so tight that it cuts off circulation, and while it may have been tolerable without her touching it, the contact is enough to make it worse for him.

He asks, "Uh, speaking of, why are you the one doing this? Isn't it some kind of HIPAA thing to treat patients you've threatened to violate with tree branches before?"

The sound of her laughter makes his stomach flutter with butterflies, and he wonders what the hell is wrong with him.

"That's not what HIPAA is, genius"—her eyes crinkle at the sides with her wide smile while she wraps his leg—"and I'm the one doing this because I know way more medical shit than the rest of you."

Even Pope.

"Ohhh right, I forgot. Your dad is this hotshot surgeon and that makes you think you know everything," he taunts.

The casual mention of her father makes her chest ache with something not many of the Pogues, excluding Pope, have felt since being stranded on this island. With their parents either disowning them, absent, abusive, or dead, they have no reason to resist the allure of living here for the months or years it may take to be rescued, but she does.

She misses him.

For the longest time since her mom died, it was her and her dad versus the world. In everything they did, they did it together, and before she met Sarah, he was the closest she had to a best friend. Since they had no other family to help watch her as a child, she grew up in the hospital with him, drawing with crayons on his office’s printer paper with her babysitter and picking up small things along the way from watching him for so long.

He could've chosen to leave her at home, sure, but he didn't want to miss out on seeing her more than he already did, so she spent the majority of her childhood in offices, waiting rooms, and the indoor playground of the PEDs wing.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself after the sucker punch of being reminded of her dad and says, "Well, I know enough and, thankfully for you, I'm the one doing this instead of John B."

From far away, twenty or so feet offshore where their friend is paddling through the water with the lost spear held in one hand, they hear John B shouting an offended, "I heard that!" back at her. It draws a soft chuckle from them both, and she silently thanks him for distracting JJ one last time as she finishes and secures the bandage so it won't unravel.

She wipes her hands off on her water-soaked thighs one more time to get as much of his blood off of her fingers as possible before she reaches out with both arms extended to offer him help to stand. He takes them with a murmured, "Thanks," as they both try not to show how affected they are by the casual touch.

It makes them feel pathetic that something as small as holding each other's hands makes them remember what they did and desperately wish to continue it. Her throat bobs with how she must swallow the lump in her throat at their close proximity, barely breathing now that he's standing close to her with less than a few inches between them.

For a second, they don't move away. They stay face to face, and all she can think of is how badly she wants to kiss him again. But she can't do anything yet, not when she hears someone screaming from the water.

"There's a shark!" John B screams as he paddles back faster than he's ever swam in his life, already close enough to the peninsula that they can see the terror in his eyes when they turn to look.

Surely enough, there a tip of a fin too pointed to pass off as a dolphin cutting through the surface of the water to alert them of the fish's presence, but if that weren't enough, the water is clear enough for them to see its outline.

Thankfully for him, it isn't huge. It looks about as long as he is tall, but that doesn't change the degree of danger. Just because it isn't as big as other sharks doesn't make a bite any less lethal, especially when their only form of medical attention rests on her knowledgeable yet inexperienced shoulders.

For once in his life, JJ is frozen with no clue of what to do.

He's always the man with the plan, the one who jumps into action when others choke up and sit on the sidelines, but this makes him falter. What can he do to help other than stand here and pray John B can out-swim a shark? He's helpless, and now that he's faced with the prospect of losing his best friend for a second time, he doesn't know what to do.

It was his blood in the water that must have attracted the shark, and he was so caught up in his own drama with her and the pain of his cut that he didn't consider the danger of John B jumping in to retrieve the spear he dropped. It's his fault. His best friend is about to be eaten by a shark and it's his fault—

The blurred image of her rushing past in his peripheral vision rips him from his stormy thoughts, and right when he thought it couldn't get worse, it does. Water splashes up around her body and swallows her under the surface after she leaps off the edge of the rock with the aluminum spear from the dinghy raised in her dominant arm.

"Y/N!"

Before he even realizes what he's doing, JJ is screaming out her name, screaming it like he cares, and damns the consequences to dive in after her.

While he was frozen, she sprung into action without thinking of her own life first. She knew he was close to the rock, but not close enough to swim faster than a predator designed for the conditions of the ocean. It took one glance at the spear resting to the side for her to lean down, scoop it up, and get a running start to jump out as far as humanly possible. Various joints and muscles ached from how she strained to push herself far off the rock, taking flight with nothing but their survival in mind.

She sucks in a heaving breath upon breaking the surface, but she doesn't take a second to pause with John B paddling up to her so soon.

"Go back!"

The only answer she gives him is, "Use your spear!" before she brings hers out of the water in anticipation of the grey figure bolting straight for them.

It's a stupid plan, but it's the only one she has, and if one of them is in danger, they'd all risk everything they have to protect them. After all, they're already trapped here with the threat of death every day. Is there anything more worthy of dying for than your friends?

Neither of them is necessarily trying to kill it yet either, they're trying to keep it at a safe distance or hurt it enough so it swims away from them, but she puts all of her strength into spearing the fish between the eyes anyway. Her legs kick tirelessly to keep her afloat while she and John B stab as accurately as they can, choking down a mouthful of salty ocean water from how her head sinks at the surface without the help of her arms to keep her up.

Blood stains the water with a crimson hue spreading out around their bodies—whether it's theirs or the shark's, she doesn't know—and she must keep her lips clamped shut to prevent it from spilling into her mouth, breathing solely through her nose. She can tell her legs are soon to give out on her, but then a pair of hands latch onto her body. Call her irrational or stupid, but even with the clear distinction of human hands on her waist, her mind reacts in instinctual fear.

The touch makes her jolt mid-stab and sobers her feral mind back to reality for a moment until she realizes it's a human touching her, not the shark.

It's JJ.

His arms wrap around her thighs and hoist her up out of the water as much as he can while still swimming, effectively pushing himself underwater with one last gasp for air.

The sudden shift in view has her gaze shifting around to take in the new sights with a gush of red water rushing off of her onto the splashing surface: a light grey tail whips around in the chaos, the shark's head oozes blood from the multiple puncture wounds that didn't push quite deep enough, and its jaws snap right where John B's arm is before he yanks it back.

After a fraction of a second, it clicks with her that there's no time to waste watching her friend almost get his arm chomped off while she takes in the unbelievable sight. Her slippery grip on the handle remains as firm as possible, and she raises the spear over her head with an improved accuracy she never could've had from where she previously aimed it before. All of their shots landed well enough, but with the height advantage, she won't allow herself to fuck it up this time with her friend's life hanging in the balance.

She hardly recognizes her own frantic voice shouting at him, "Spear it in the gills!"

Her hands bring the razor-sharp tip of the spear down into its head repeatedly, and she isn't sure whether it's the splashing water or tears wetting her face when she buries the weapon down into it for a final time right when John B lodges his wooden spear in its gills.

Whatever she did, it must've hit its brain, because the animal halts its thrashing. Its teeth no longer snap at her friend, nor does its tail whip around in the water as violently as it did a moment ago.

As quickly as it started, it drops off into a sickening calm that leaves the white bubbles dissolving into a puddle of bloody water surrounding the trio and the fish that dies with no small amount of guilt on her part. There was no choice but to kill it. It makes her ache on the inside, but how could she regret it if she knows it saved them? The guilt might ravage her for the upcoming days, but she can't bring herself to regret jumping in after him.

She hardly has the chance to process it before she's being pulled away by both of the boys, her view of the scene shifting drastically once more with the abrupt drop of JJ letting her down in favor of guiding her through the gentle waves. His calloused hand squeezes her arm enough to cut circulation off on their journey back.

Time rushes past her in the next thirty seconds or so it takes them to reach the peninsula again in a paranoid sprint away from where the dead fish floats. One of them, John B she thinks, tosses the aluminum spear he dislodged from the shark's head up onto the rocks and clambers his way back up on his own. The waves closer to land grow rougher than the tender current out where they killed the shark, and she grunts in pain as one sends her and JJ straight into the rocks. His body hits her back with a solid ‘thump’ and forces her to wheeze with the wind getting knocked from her lungs upon impact, nails cracking on the black rock from the desperate grip she uses in an attempt to lift herself.

Meanwhile, JJ can't seem to catch his breath either, nor can he think of anything other than her once he sees that John B isn’t injured.

As soon as he sees his friend is unmarked from the teeth of the shark after he's out of the water, he positions himself behind Y/N to help her out first. He places his hands on her backside to push her up as quickly as he can. Knowing that the carcass in the water will soon attract more sharks in the surrounding area into a feeding frenzy, he'd rather it be him than her. It's a thought that shoots by too fast for him to fully acknowledge the meaning or weight of it at a time like this.

Somehow within his adrenaline-crazed mind, he is careful not to push her onto the jagged edge that sliced his leg open earlier, then climbs after her with little space left between them.

She's coughing up saltwater onto the rocks as he scrambles over to her, eyes wild with the petrifying worry of anything bad happening to her. They scan over her arms, legs, stomach, and back, and he doesn't even realize his hands are reaching out to inspect her as frantically as she had with him when he got hurt.

His hands cup her face, petting over her dripping hair and forcing her to look up so he can see if she somehow got hit in the face. Never has his mind been so void of rational thought, and, knowing him and his impulsive tendencies, that's saying a lot. The confusion of his contradictory feelings for her muddle his mind. Worry and hatred, attraction and anger—they battle it out, but only two manage to reach him externally.

Worry and anger it is. Worry for obvious reasons. Anger because—

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

She has never heard him sound so vicious since the start of whatever odd relationship/friendship/enemy-ship they have. With his worried expression and how he checked her entire body for injury after helping her out of the water, the last thing she would've anticipated from him was anger. Especially not after she saved his best friend's life. Considering what she just did for him, she thinks he should be thanking her, not chastising her.

Behind her back, she can hear a collection of yelling voices and splashing footsteps over the water dripping from them. It can only be the rest of their friends racing up the peninsula to them, but she can't turn around.

She stares at him with utter confusion flooding her at his unexpected outburst. Speechless.

"What was I thinking?" she asks incredulously with her face still cradled between his hands, "I was saving John B's life!"

Their emotional distance and disagreement are made up for in abundance by how physically entangled they've become. It wasn't intentional. It was a result of him needing to get close enough to scour her exposed skin for any bites, but now that they're sitting so near to each other, they forget to back away.

John B is too busy to engage with them.

He's doubled over on the ground with the compulsion to vomit the contents of his stomach into the ocean, but he doesn't dare get close to the edge again after what they went through. Instead, he positions himself away from them and their approaching friends until the half-digested food is forced back through his mouth. The acidic bile scorches his throat and nostrils on the way out.

JJ doesn't have the opportunity to retort back something about her being stupid, because Pope is the first person to reach them and ask, "What the hell happened?"

The rest of the group isn't far behind. It's Kie who asks the next question, then Sarah, then Cleo. They all pop off in rapid succession before either of the three of them can answer.

"Are any of you hurt?"

"Why is he throwing up?"

"Is that a shark?"

The last question draws everyone's attention over to the half-sunken mass of fish bobbing up and down on the breaths of the sea with a wooden spear sticking straight out of its gills. Though it isn't the biggest, most intimidating shark to roam the ocean, its presence doesn't fail to make everyone who looks at it shudder with the realization of what must have happened.

John B wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and points over at her with his trembling arm outstretched.

"She killed it."

The four of them whip their heads in her direction, jaws nearly falling off their faces in disbelief, but she doesn't say anything yet. Because as soon as they feel the eyes of their friends burning into them, she and JJ realize, as though they're returning to reality from the hazy layers of a dreamscape, that they're still holding each other.

She's slumped halfway onto him from when he hauled her body closer to inspect her, so she's essentially sitting on top of him at this point. Her legs, bruised and scratched up from when the waves crested to send them crashing into the rocks, are entangled around his enough that they look back and forth between them and where his hands cup her face in surprise.

JJ doesn't know what came over him.

Now that he snaps out of it at the same time as her, both of them separating and nudging each other away until their bodies are no longer entwined, he feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

When he saw her leaping past him to jump into the water, his mind shut off. He wasn't thinking about himself, or the possibility of getting killed, or anything at all. He was only thinking of the danger she put herself in, then he dove in and the rest of his conscious mind faded away into pure survival instinct. Yet, even after he knew the immediate danger was gone, the adrenaline kept him on edge, desperate to get her back to land and pray none of them were hurt.

"It was trying to attack him," she rasps. Her throat is raw from the saltwater she choked on, and every word burns. "But we did it together."

She pushes herself off the ground with an exhausted sigh.

Muscles spent from the struggle in the water, her legs wobble beneath the weight of her upper body as she takes a few steps to help John B up from his position on his hands and knees. From what she heard, he has thrown up all he has left in his stomach and hasn't gagged again in a minute or so, so attempting to stand again shouldn't be too strenuous for him.

His hand is cold in her grasp from the water soaking their bodies, but it holds firmly enough for her to help him into his feet without their palms slipping apart. No patches of blood are visible on his shorts, nor are there any puncture wounds on him from the sharp teeth that snapped at his arm in the quick but vigorous fight.

They were very, very fortunate to have made it out alive, and when he looks down at her face, he feels nothing but gratitude for the girl he previously saw as nothing more than his girlfriend's best friend. They went into the water as casual acquaintances, companions of convenience and the happenstance of being forced onto this island together, but they've come out of it differently. Now, they're friends.

Now, she's a Pogue.

He smiles at her, glancing up at their friends as their questions die down at the sight of his crazy grin, and says, "That was some real Pogue shit right there, Y/N." His eyes come back to meet hers. "I think it's about time we officially make you one of us. What do you think?"

She's opening her mouth to respond when Kiara cuts her off. The rest of them are staring at the trio as if they have ten heads sprouting from their bodies for not immediately surrendering more details of their near-death encounter other than saying she killed it.

"I'm sorry, can we please rewind to the part where you got attacked by a shark first?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, can I get a drumroll please for..."

The campfire is roaring with the abundance of sticks, leaves, and branches thrown onto the pile to fuel it as she feels a strong pair of arms looping around her thighs to lift her into the expansive, star-flecked sky.

In a flash of haunting memory, she relives the moment where JJ dove into the water after her and lifted her body above the surface to give her the high ground over the shark. She relives its thrashing hunger, the water splashing on her, and the cloudy hue of blood around them that she hoped wasn't either of the boys. For a second, as the world grows taller with her new perspective, she is brought back to the sudden shift she felt then and feels her stomach drop in panic, anticipating the danger.

But then the sound of her friends laughing, as well as the surging fire and crashing waves, comes back to her and forces the frightful flashback away. Her hip fits perfectly in the curve of John B's shoulder, and she lets her head fall back in giggling laughter at how he hoists her up in the air as though she's a holy figure of worship for the Pogues to kneel to.

His voice can likely be heard across the entire island when he shouts, "The Shark Conqueror!"

The group erupts into a triumphant mixture of cheers and laughter that fills the beach, everyone celebrating in their narrow escape earlier today...everyone except JJ.

After John B divulged the gory details of what happened, from JJ's fall to her picking up the spear and jumping in to save him from the shark, they made their way back with enough conversation to last the month. They all asked questions and took peeks back at where it happened in morbid curiosity, wondering how on earth they managed to come out of the situation without a scratch.

The rest of the afternoon continued on with the same buzzing energy that can only be created from the thrill of being alive. She's felt it many times since joining Sarah's group of friends that seem to find trouble wherever they go, but she has never felt it as vehemently as she does tonight. It's a mixture of euphoria, shock, and soul-crushing guilt for having to hurt another living creature, even one that was intending to make a meal of her friend.

No matter how much she grows up or discovers more about herself as a person, feelings never stop being as frustrating as they were to her as a child. You can get better at processing and hindering explosive reactions to them, but they never simplify. She doesn't know why she feels so much at once. She doesn't know why she feels simultaneously on top of the world and thrown off the edge of a cliff, but she thinks it has to do with him.

Since they walked back to the beach and talked about what happened until the day withered into night, which led them here to the “official” ceremony of her being named a Pogue for life, JJ hasn't spoken to her once.

Suddenly, the shoe is on the other foot.

Much like how she avoided him all night last night leading into this morning, he doesn't talk to her. He tries not to look at her too from where he sits on the log of driftwood across the fire, but it's somewhat inevitable with the spectacle John B is making of her at the moment.

Painted in the warm tones of the firelight like a goddess in her own right, Y/N is impossible to look away from, and it makes him angrier than he already is. A handwoven circlet crafted from the hibiscus and hippeastrum flowers growing in the forest around their camp sits atop her head. It doesn't fall to the ground with the movement of her throwing her head back in laughter. It stays in its rightful place against the rule of gravity until her face comes back into view for him to quickly look away from.

It dampers her laughter to see him avoiding her gaze so adamantly, taking a swig of water from one of the small cups they carved from wood and turning to talk to Kie to keep himself busy. The distinct sensation of being on top of the world slips away with the feeling of his cold avoidance and John B lowering her back to the ground until her bare feet sink into the soft sand.

Before she can start sulking about it for the foreseeable future, Sarah steps up beside her.

The familiar touch of a hand on her shoulder brings her comfort amidst her confusion and hurt over the way JJ is acting, and when she turns to see a pretty face looking fondly at her, a warm smile finds her lips.

"Pogue for life?" Sarah asks.

The three words bring make her smile grow the same way it had when she was talking to JJ on the peninsula. It crinkles the skin around her eyes with its unrestrained happiness to hear them because, as much as she pretends to let JJ's comments roll off of her, tonight marks one of the first times she's felt at home with them.

That's not to say they haven't made her feel welcome in the past, they did, but this isn’t the same. This is closer, this is the type of bond that's forged in situations like these where people have no choice but to rely on each other or let their worlds collectively fall apart, and she thinks, for the first time, that she could live here with them forever if she must.

None of them know how much time has passed since they arrived here, least of all her, but it sure as hell feels like an eternity. At first, she could barely withstand the idea of living here for months with the intention of being rescued as soon as possible, but now...

She brings Sarah into an embrace tight enough to force the air from their lungs.

"Pogue for life," she echoes back with her face buried into the salt-scented tresses of dirty blonde hair cascading over her tan shoulders.

Would it be crazy of her to think that this is where they're meant to be? That they're her family and this place she has fantasized about escaping is now their home?

After all, the lush island provides everything they need to sustain themselves with the rationing, scavenging, and hunting routines they adhere themselves to. Freshwater runs down the land in a stream from a water source uphill, plenty of different edible plants grow in the forest, and there's so much left of the expansive land to explore; it's perfect. Everything here is perfect for them, calling out to them to make it their home, but there's one little problem as of right now, and he's sitting across the fire behind her back.

Sarah's arms squeeze around her shoulders once to bring her in even closer.

"Thank you for saving him," her voice is so hushed, Y/N can hardly hear it with her lips brushing the shell of her ear to whisper into it, "I'm not gonna get all mushy with you right now, but I don't know what I would've done if"—Sarah's breath hitches in her throat, and she shakes her head—"I just wanted to thank you."

When they pull apart, Y/N is looking back at her with a knowing expression, one that says everything she can't in the presence of the others, and Sarah can't help but mirror it.

It isn't long before the blonde-haired beauty is whisked away by her boyfriend to help him cook the crabs they caught closer to shore after their encounter with the shark. Not wanting to swim out or risk slipping off the rocks again with the dead fish promising to lure more predators to their area for the next week or so, they settled for hunting for shellfish and making good use of the fruits they find growing in wild abundance in the forest.

The night ticks away in swiftly passing minutes thanks to the humorous company of the people around her.

She nearly chokes on a mouthful of banana as Cleo tells a story from before she met them, when she used to live in Nassau and work jobs with Terence and Stubbs on ships. For such new additions to the group, they both fit surprisingly well with the lifelong childhood friends that sit around and banter with such ease together.

They talk, laugh, dance, and eat together, and there are moments when she feels happier than ever. There are moments exactly like when John B lifted her up and made her giggle at how their friends cheered on her behalf in indulgence of the silly "ceremony" they did, half out of boredom and half out of gratitude for what she did. But then she is reminded of the man sitting on the outskirts of the group with his features hardened into an expression of contemplation she wishes she could decode.

The night breeze feels heavenly on her perpetually overexposed skin. It blows into the fire and allows it to swell from the oxygen supply, crackling and popping embers out every so often like the spark of the zippo lighter JJ fidgets with in his restless hands. The movement attracts her wandering eyes while they should be focused on Cleo and Kie dancing around the fire with boisterous laughter while Sarah and Pope sing for them.

She keeps herself honed in on the opening and closing of the lighter under the guidance of his ring-clad fingers for the next minute or so.

They may have been pitting themselves against each other since they met, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know him well. If anything, the keen attention that her old hatred for him forced her to keep on him made her memorize everything there is to know. And she surely has picked up on the nervous habit of him playing with the lighter whenever he's thinking, whenever there's something crawling under his skin that he can't piece together.

He sits with his back to her, facing out toward the ocean so all she can see is the hand he uses to flick the lighter open and shut with. With a quick glance at the rest of their friends to see if any of them are watching or wanting to speak with her, she pushes herself up from the log and dusts her sandy palms on her shirt.

The tracks of her footsteps lead around the corner of the driftwood he rests against until her feet appear, sunken into the sand in front of him. It takes a lot of control to not allow himself to follow up the length of her body, panning up along her legs until he sees that infuriatingly tenderhearted set of eyes looking down at him.

However, he doesn't have a choice in looking when her hand outstretches in a silent invitation. His first glimpse of her in the last half-hour shows her jerking her chin in the direction of the beach curving around the bend of the island.

This morning, he probably would've taken her up on the offer. He would've done anything to get a few minutes alone with her, but now he can't see past his anger and doesn't know why. He doesn't know why it hasn't calmed yet, but, in truth, it has more to do with him than it does her idiotic yet brave decision to fight off a shark today. Trust him, it still has a lot to do with the idiotic shark thing, but the rest is lost in translation for him.

"Not in the mood," he dismisses her.

Her brows furrow and form a crease between them as she tries to find something to say but comes up with nothing. At least not until it clicks with her what he thought she was trying to do by inviting him to walk with her.

The last time they went off on their own together, it ended in an explosive encounter they have yet to erase from their minds. It's what greets them whenever they close their eyes for a second too long, existing in their wildest daydreams and fantasies whenever they have a spare moment to themselves. Hell, he can't stop thinking about it even when he's already occupied. It was the reason why he didn't catch any fish this morning before the incident that made him pissed at her in the first place. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Oh," she murmurs and starts to kneel down until her knees are sinking into the sand the same way she did when patching up his leg. Her eyes peek over his shoulder to ensure the others didn't hear them—"That wasn't what I meant...I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about today. It must have been a lot to process, since he's your best friend and all, and—"

JJ snaps, unable to tolerate it anymore, and stands up from his spot on the sand to move away from her.

"You don't need act all therapist with me, okay? I'm fine, and I don't need you to fix me if that's what you wanted. Today was fine. Everything's fine, so let it go."

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish with a loss for words. For the second time in the span of a minute, she is grasping blindly for something to say in the wake of him shocking her to silence. He's starting to walk past her but she doesn't let him. Her hand shoots out to stop him and holds onto his arm to turn him back despite his rudeness.

Underneath it all, her concern touches him deeply. It shouldn't trigger a reaction like this in him, so why does it? What about today set him off? He hasn't been this genuinely angry with her since before the hunt for the gold began, before she started to blend into their friend group and establish herself as one of them.

"Woah, woah, woah," she says, "I never said that. I thought that you needed someone to talk to. You know, as a friend."

Their friends start to notice their interaction tensing up now. Before, they didn't pick up on her stepping away for a second to check on him. Now, it's impossible to ignore what unfolds hardly six steps from where they watch as slyly as they can. The two of them haven't had a conversation as cold as this one in months, and what he says next takes it to a place that freezes over the connection they made last night and shatters the warm place it held in her heart.

He scoffs.

"We're not friends. If you think you gotta act different 'cause you threw yourself at me last night, don't bother. You hate me and I hate you. That's how it is."

No nicknames, jokes, or anything to act as a buffer, just cruelty. Rejection.

Though they truly were trying to pretend like they weren't paying attention, every single one of their friends stops and stares. A chorus of hushed reactions sound off from across the fire, and the faint sound of Kie muttering, "Oh shit," is the first thing to reach their ears. It's needless to say that none of them could've expected something so callous to come from him, not after what they saw when they ran up to them on the peninsula this morning.

With the way he was holding her then, doting on her and cradling her face between his hands even in the midst of his anger at what she did, they sooner expected the pair to admit they're dating than have a blowout like this.

In the delayed seconds it takes for her to realize what the fuck he just said to her, he watches her face shift from a look of concern to sadness, to flush-faced embarrassment, then finally to anger. Her teeth grind together, nostrils flaring on her inhale, and in one quick moment, she comes to a conclusion within herself.

She reaches up to rip the handmade crown of vibrant flowers off her head with flames to match the camp fire flaring up in her eyes for him. Before she can do anything, he already knows he crossed a line, if not multiple lines. It's evident in everything he sees, from the hurt look on her face to the force with which she shoves the crown into the center of his chest to send him stumbling back a few steps. Just like yesterday, except it couldn't be any more different.

"Fuck. You." She spits the words as though they're venomous, and he almost shrinks away under the intensity of her stare, “Go find somewhere else to sleep tonight, 'cause it sure as hell isn't gonna be with me."

Petals flutter out upon impact against his solid chest and float peacefully to the sand around his feet as he watches her turn on her heels and storm off toward their hut. Though, after what he did and what she said to him as a goodbye, it isn't really theirs anymore, is it? At least not for tonight, tomorrow, or the next day until he finds a way to make her hear him out for an apology.

He stands there, frozen, the entire time he watches her leave. Nothing can move him from the spot, not even Sarah knocking her shoulder against his with a pointed glare on her way past to follow her into the moonlit darkness.

He doesn't even resist the disappointed looks he gets, or the shoulder check from Sarah. This time, he deserves it. He deserves every ounce of their judgment. All she was trying to do was make sure he was okay and he was too consumed in his unreleased frustration from today to see it. And, in a way, he's still frustrated over it, but it's greatly overshadowed by the guilt seeping through him.

The shadowy shapes of the two girls disappear into the small hut further down the beach, and JJ is left with nothing to do but look down at the flower crown clutched to his chest in regret.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, @krisphann, @astrydis, @k-k0129, @zarahsloves, and @stilesflannels.

[sningo-prompts]

A prompt for you, dear prompter!

“Ingo sleeps a lot. Sure, Emmett could understand that when he was still recovering from his injuries- but now, he’s almost fully healed. All that remains is some fading bruises and aches. The Ingo he knew was far more active (and the Ingo he didn’t know was as well, much more so than the Ingo that hadn’t yet disappeared.)

He hasn’t tried bringing it up, yet. He’s not sure if his brother could even answer the question, without a good way to verbally communicate.

Although perhaps that was the issue. He hadn’t given it much thought, really, but… perhaps his brother was. Upset? Ingo was always the better talker between the two, always knew just what to say (in his memories of it, at least, it had been… a few years, now, since he’d heard his brother’s voice last), and now he simply couldn’t talk the way he used to. Or was it more than that? He’d noticed Ingo struggling quite often with things like opening jars, picking things up… going from four fingers and a thumb to two clumsy claws seemed difficult. Did he feel like he couldn’t do simple things anymore? Did he feel like a burden, having to rely on Emmett for so many things he had done with ease in the past?

Emmett stays up late at night quite often, long after Ingo goes to sleep, writing in his little theory book that had slowly turned into more of a journal. He thinks too much, and he’s sure his brother would have told him as much if he’d been able to. And he thinks too much about that, too.

(Really, the reason Ingo sleeps so much is because he keeps trying to stay awake, waiting for Emmett to fall asleep too. He doesn’t really have access to things like coffee or energy drinks anymore (not for Sneasels, it wasn’t good for him), which leaves him quite exhausted.

But Emmett wouldn’t know this.

Because Ingo can’t speak.)”

Been looking forward to this since i got it tbh but work ughh. Its under the cut it got rather long and for a mobile user thats a bit to scroll past.

Emmet noticed how much Ingo slept and figured it was from fatigue because of his injuries and the meds. So he tried to remain calm about but it worried him. It wasnt really at the front of him mind though, considering all the other worries he had over his brother so he didnt think much of it. After all Ingo had a slew of injuries for Emmet to fret over. It was when Ingo was mostly healed up that Emmet was finally reminded of the problem. Ingo was sleeping quite a lot. Not most of the day sure but anytime Emmet was distracted for long he would find Ingo asleep. For a little while, right after he stopped having to take pain medicine, it seemed Ingo was more active. For some reason though it seems like hes just always napping when set to his own devices, which really wasnt that often. Now with Ingo off to bed and Emmets mind not occupied with his brothers injuries it wandered to this. Why did his brother sleep so much. It couldnt be a good sign. With a sign Emmet knew what was about to happen. His mind just wouldnt let it go so he set out to make a list. More like write down all his theories till his mind accept that he covered all bases but calling it a list made him feel better about it.

His first idea was because of his sneasel body. Maybe the breed requires more sleep? Though looking into sneasel habits he got to an article about living with one. Which spoke of them being very active and rather hyper pokemon. It also stated that if the sneasel was sleeping a lot then it doesnt have enough enrichment. So sneasels who are bored sleep more. Emmet didnt really buy into this idea since Ingo still had everything in the apartment just like before and he didnt nap 3 times a day then.

Then the idea struck him ‘Ingo is still a human by mind right?’ So he started looking for reasons why humans sleep more than usual. He didnt like what he found. Mild problems from a change in sleep schedule to insomnia or what Emmet would think is the worst depression. Sure Ingo probably did have a different sleep schedule. He hasnt been showing signs of insomnia, since his brother is asleep by the time Emmet goes to return. So that leaves the worst option. It doesnt take long for Emmet to come up with reaosns for his brother to be depressed. Hell Emmet is feeling down about the whole situation himself. He can only imagine what its like for his brother. Now his mind is wandering idea to idea. Ingo struggling with basic things. From opening a jar to using a phone. Let alone all the difficult things he used to do with ease. Emmet knows Ingo lived to cook for them both. Theres no way he can do that now. Ingo cant even go out on his own anymore. Even if he wanted to he cant reach the door handle, or use it. Worst of it all is he cant voice these problems to Emmet. It has been driving Emmet mad not being able to banter with his brother. Long conversations gone for both of them. Though if Emmet misses them deeply at least he can still talk to people Ingo cant. Oh no wonder Ingo sleeps all the time. Emmet probably would to if he had been so reduced as Ingo has. Every waking moment a reminder of what you can no longer do. Emmet can tell its a new change for Ingo just from watching his brother fumble to hold things. He was worried Ingo had been transformed he whole time he was gone but its clear he just got this new form. Which Emmet was relieved to realise. At least he hasnt suffered in silence the whole time he was gone.

How was Emmet going to fix this. Sure making the house more convenient for his brother was already on the list but how to make him feel less dependent on Emmet. Emmet didnt know. First things first he has to figure something out about the language barrier. He cant keep letting Ingo suffer in silence. He needs some way to voice himself. Emmets first thought was writing but after trying to hold any without moving his fingers he knew that would be out. Next was typing. Which wasnt easy but was way easier. It was slow but after a while he was about to get used to it. Ok thats something. At least then he could communicate with him. There was a small “sne” from behind Emmet. Nearly fell out of his chair from the jump. “Ingo why are you up? I did not wake you did i?” A shake of the head and a point to a clock. Its rather late 3:22am. Another but firmer, “SNE” It didnt take a genius to know what Ingo was trying to say. “Ah yes it has gotten rather late hasnt it. Maybe its time i retire.” Ingo trying to stifle a yawn but fails causing Emmet to yawn as well. As Emmet follows Ingo out and turns off the office light he has another though ‘has Ingo been up this whole time waiting on me?’

~liz sorry i know its not much i just lost the flow halfway in smh. It is 4:25 for me so maybe i should go to sleep xD the creator of the au @rosebloodcat actually also talked about Ingo sleeping a lot heres the post! I like to think its emmets second bit take on it. After all i sleep now when i cant do what i used to before the move. Simple things like going to walk to block or just cooking myself dinner. Cant do those where i live so instead i just get sad about it and nap it off. Luckily Ingo has a brother who lives him and makes sure he at least eats dinner xD thanks for the prompt btw i have been wanting to play with it sense you sent it but i got it right as i was walking out the door for work. Smh

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.22

Obstacle

04/08/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,413

Warnings: angst, jealousy, marital problems, pregnancy, allusions to cheating (no actual infidelity), fluff, smug Loki

A/N: It took me SO long to get this chapter down. I wrote literally like a few sentence a day for a bit and then finally got some good chunks out. This has been a tough week but this chapter makes it all worth it! I hope y’all think so too. A lot of good stuff happens in this chapter, as in stuff that I really like. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work!

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The shuffle around the palace as Loki escorts you through the front gate is overwhelming.

It’s safe to say that judging by your reception when you’d shown up in Heimdall’s tower located on the far side of the city, the Asgardians are happy to see you.

Armod is also happy to see you and you rush to get into your car before you can get swarmed by eager Asgardians.

Loki joins you in the back seat and lets Armod gush over his happiness at seeing you back home and healthy. And pregnant! More than anything, the people are happy to see the swell of your belly.

Many of the women are crying as you step out of the car at the palace gate, the men cheering enthusiastically.

Some of the children have found flower petals to throw into the air and it rains white, pink, and yellow blossoms.

It's the small waving hand of a little girl with ebony floor length braids that tugs too hard on your heartstrings and you give in to your impulse.

“Armod, stop the car, I’d like to greet the people,” you ask, swayed further by the eager faces of the young girl's siblings who flank her..

As much as being Queen had come unexpectedly and as much work as it's been, loving the Asgardians has never been a challenge and you've missed your people.

Their kindness has always been the best part of your day.

Armod gives Loki a quick look but stops the car just as the palace gates are opening.

He pulls over to the side, putting it in park before hurrying out to open the door for you.

“Are you sure?” Loki checks, reaching over to place his hand over yours on the seat.

“Of course. I owe them this. I’ve been gone for so long.”

“If you’d rather go in, we can find an excuse.”

“Loki,” you laugh once. “Is something wrong? Is there a reason I shouldn’t get out of the car?”

“Not at all,” he assures you. “I just don’t want you to force yourself. I know this pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy on you.”

“I’m okay. And I’m sure they wanna see the proof that they have an heir coming. Really, Loki, I don't mind.”

Loki sighs, but gets out quickly to move around and take Armod’s place and offer you his arm.

Taking it, you pull yourself out, and after a long moment to steady yourself on your feet, you turn to face your people.

A large number of Valkyries suddenly pour from the open palace gateway and you wait as they line themselves in front of the gathering crowd. A simple border of control to keep you safe.

The people don’t seem threatened by the guard either and they continue to cheer until you raise your hand and call them to silence.

It only takes a few seconds for the noise to die, leaving only the ambient sounds of the city, wind, and the shuffling feet as more Asgardians and visiting humans gather.

“Hello,” you begin, voice a little shaky from nerves. “I’m...I-I’d like to start by first apologizing for disappearing. And then for being gone so long.”

The people watch and listen attentively, hanging on your every word. As your hands drop down to your belly to stroke it anxiously out of habit, their eyes are drawn to it and they seem to rattle with excitement again.

Looking down at your tummy, you contemplate the little one inside and the kicks he gave you earlier in the day.

He's really in there.

“It’s been a long journey to do what’s been expected of me. Difficult, actually. Giving you and Thor what we’ve all been hoping for is a privilege though. It's important that you all know that.

"However, I'm not as strong as all of you. I'm not as resilient. As soon as I knew that I was expecting the future prince or princess of New Asgard, I knew that I had to take precautions. I had to stop thinking like your Queen and just for a while, think like a mom. I told Thor that I wanted to take some time away from my duties as Queen if only to make sure that my pregnancy would take. In order to ensure the health of this baby.

“Im so very sorry if I caused any of you any worry or pain by disappearing. That was never my intention and it makes me...I can only say that I'm sorry. I hope that you all can understand why I left. The The thing is I’m happy to say that my efforts weren't wasted, clearly."

There's a rumble of gentle laughter that flows through the crowd and breaks the slightly somber mood your speech is causing. You give them a smile and they smile back.

"And while that does make me very happy, it has not been easy to carry this baby. I have been sick and weak but after some rest I'm now feeling stronger than ever. With the constant and careful care provided by Doctors Wilson and Alric, I’m finally able to resume my duties as Queen with the knowledge that this baby is strong and healthy and my body can take the strain of bringing him-or her into this world.

“I’m so happy to be back among my people, my home. You all are my family and it fills me with such joy to know that I have made you all proud.”

The people cheer, more and more gathering along the street so that it’s now clogged and impassable. Others have taken to peeking out of windows from the surrounding buildings or finding balconies and roofs to stand on to get a better look at you.

Their excitement changes to trepidation at the look on your face as you realize that now is the perfect time to address what happened yesterday.

They’re so attuned to your mood that they quiet down again and wait nervously for you to speak.

"On a more serious note, I know that many of you must have been shocked by the lies spewed onto the pages of the Watch. And I'd like to be as clear as I possibly can about my absence from the palace.

"I only left because of the concern I had for our future prince or princess. There was absolutely no other reason for my absence in our great city. While it is true that something did happen between Thor, Jane, and myself--well, I will only say that now I know that His Majesty the King of Asgard is wholly devoted to me and our family, just as he has been from the moment he accepted me as his wife.

"Not that I ever doubted it," you lie. No one needs to know how bad things are and it is true that now you know Thor is devoted to you.

So, it's not completely a lie.

"As a people," you continue. "We'll need to be vigilant about the people we choose to trust to come into our homes. We will be more cautious now, and as a woman…"

You swallow hard, thinking about the words itching on the tip of your tongue to tumble forward and make your heart clear. Maybe it's not right to say it? Maybe it isn't the queenly thing to do?

You don't care.

"As a wife and a soon-to-be mother, I will say that Doctor Jane Foster is not welcome in my home. She has proven to be unworthy of the trust we placed in her and while her expertise is an invaluable commodity that I am sad to lose, I would rather have the second best than risk the stability of my family."

To your surprise, there are a flutter of approving nods and smiles, wives and husband's looking scandalized by the confirmation that something went down but clearly it was Thor that had Jane kicked out. A few cheers come but they quiet down quickly.

"My love for His Majesty is unwavering. As is his for me. No marriage can be without it's struggles but Thor and I are as united as we have ever been. Both in love, devotion, to each other and you, our people. Together we will strive to protect this kingdom to the best of our abilities and with this child, I hope we can begin to lay down proper roots for us so that everyone on Earth will know that New Asgard is here to stay."

The crowd cheers. It's deafening and your hands are trembling so terribly even clenched into fists they shake.

"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!" someone shouts and the others fall into the chant as it's picked up by what sounds like everyone in the crowd.

A cool hand presses against the center of your back and you lean towards him as he whispers in your ear.

"That was beautifully done, Y/N," Loki admires. "Now come along. You need your rest."

You cradle your bump and the crowd cheers louder as you wave while Loki leads you back into the car.

As it pulls away from the curb, the Valkyrie turn to follow behind you. Faces full of stern pride. Their gleaming armor shining bright in the late afternoon sun.

The large wooden and steel reinforced gates of the palace close with a thundering clatter and you lean back, heart suddenly clenching painfully. Your stomach turns and you feel like you might throw up.

You shut your eyes and open the window allowing the cooling air to help drive your nausea away.

"Y/N? You alright?" Loki checks, putting his hand on your arm.

"I'm fine," you assure him, unwilling to open your eyes.

"Are you sure? Only, you're looking a little green."

That doesn't actually happen does it? Do people look green when they're gonna throw up?

You assume he's exaggerating, but as the last bit of the swirl in your belly passes, you look at him with fearful eyes.

"I'm nervous," you admit.

"To see Thor?"

"Mm," you nod.

"He's missed you. He will probably try and hug you. Might even kiss you."

"I don't know if I can handle that, Loki."

"You'll have to. The guards around the palace are sworn to secrecy about anything that happens in here, but with the amount of information that magazine was able to get we're pretty sure there's a mole amongst our number."

You look away from him, frowning because the last thing you want is to hug and kiss Thor.

Well, that is, you really want to do those things. Which is why you shouldn't. Not until you can be around him with some kind of rational thought and control over your feelings.

You need to get a grip and come to terms with the reality of your situation before you can let yourself love hum.

You have to protect yourself.

It turns out that you have nothing to worry about.

Estrid who had come before you with your things is there to greet you. A few others of the palace staff come to see you and you're welcome back with fondness.

Because you know you have to play the part, you look for him.

"His Majesty had a sudden summons from the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, my Queen. He apologizes for missing your arrival but he's had the small dining room filled with all of your favorites.

"When you are finished with dinner, he has asked that you wait for him in his study."

Estrid's tone tells you she's wary for you. She wants to make sure you're okay.

The disappointment you feel gives you away not only to yourself, but everyone there to see your face fall as you caress your belly.

"A blessing in disguise?" Loki suggests in your ear for just you, but the smile on his lips says he knows better.

"He'll be back before it gets too late, Your Majesty," Estrid assures you, trying to soothe your sadness. "He promised. There’s nothing more he wants than to see you."

"I know," you smile at her, then the others before you head for the dining room, your stomach grumbling in anticipation of the foods you know are waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~

Waiting is torture. You keep trying to read your book but your attention is pulled back to the door of Thor’s study every few seconds.

You groan, dropping the book onto the desk before throwing your head back with scrunched up eyes.

How is it possible to be desperate to see someone while also dreading it?

It feels like you'll die if you don't lay eyes on Thor but also like it'll tear you to shreds if you do. There's no winning here.

You gasp as the door opens and get to your feet in the same breath.

Thor's body is rising and falling heavily with his own labored breathing. He'd been running.

To get to you? No. You can't be swayed.

"I'm here."

His declaration is soft but heavy with meaning. More than just him announcing his arrival.

"Oh, aren't you a vision," he gushes.

"Hi," you whisper, only because you can't catch your breath.

He's wearing jeans, a plain black t-shirt stretched across his bulging chest. He's even more massive than you remember. Three months away has deprived you so fully that suddenly being in his presence leaves you hungry for him.

You want him so much.

"I've missed you, desperately," he confesses. "May I greet you properly?"

You frown, so undecided.

"Or not," Thor relents. "Forgive me, I just got caught up in the moment."

Why is this so hard?

You want to feel him.

"You can greet our baby properly," you give in.

A big part of you needs to feel him and this is the only way you can give in and feel like you're still doing your best to hold strong in your resolve to get some distance.

Thor’s eye lights up and quickly finds the swell of your tummy with recognition.

"Really?"

"I will never keep you from our baby, Thor. Even if I'm not ready for things to go back to normal between us just yet."

Thor takes a half step towards you and watches you carefully for any indication that you're not comfortable with his proximity.

You sigh, head tilted to the left slightly before you hold out your hand to him, beckoning him closer.

In three long strides Thor takes your hand and stops when he's only a foot away.

"Here," you gasp.

Your heart is in overdrive. Thor’s touch is doing things to your body. There's an initial rush of butterflies in your stomach and quickly you pull Thor’s hands to the spots where your baby is kicking in response.

Thor’s body freezes. He goes rigid. He even stops breathing.

For a moment you begin to worry that maybe you've broken him, until he suddenly drops to his knees.

He swallows hard, eyes pooling as he stares at the swell of your stomach as the baby continues to kick.

“They’re really in there,” he’s so choked up about it that his voice cracks around the words.

As he speaks, the baby kicks more.

Thor laughs but then leans in to kiss your stomach over the fabric of your dress.

“We really made her,” Thor gushes.

“Her?”

He looks up at you, confused for a second before he smiles wide, “Or him. It doesn’t matter. What matters is our baby is coming.”

Your heart swells, and you’re so happy that you could float away like a hot air balloon with the warmth flooding your limbs.

This is the moment you’d dreamt of. This is the moment that had been stolen from you by Jane and her lies. This is the moment that you and Thor had both been yearning for.

He’s so caught up in it, floating through the glow of this perfect moment that he presses his lips to your tummy again two more times before he’s rising, his hand hooked behind your neck as he meets your lips as he gets to his feet.

You’re so unprepared for it, so utterly lost in this sweet exchange between him and your baby that your lips pucker on their own.

He opens his eye and yours, already open, stare into his. He looks slightly shocked to find himself kissing you but he doesn’t stop.

Instead, his expression shifts into a pained look of desire. He pulls back, his hand dropping to grip your bicep.

“I would say that I’m sorry but I have been wanting to kiss you since the moment I left you three months ago.”

You say nothing, watching him, listening. You’re searching your soul to see if this is okay with you because it feels okay. Despite the sirens blaring in your mind about the restrictions you’d set for yourself when you’d decided to come back home, your body is telling you it needs this. Your heart is painfully aching at Thor’s touch.

You’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. 

“Is this alright? I can go.”

The idea of him going now feels like the end of the world. Rationally, you know that isn’t an appropriate response to his offering to leave you be, especially when you know you asked him for space for specific reasons.

“No,” your hands grip the sides of his t-shirt tightly, holding him in place without any actual strength since compared to him, you’re as mighty as a little mouse.

You refuse to look up at him, despite the crumbling of your resolve.

“No, don’t go.”

It’s an almost involuntary shy response to your diminishing shame at losing all control after his touch. After one kiss. You should be disappointed in yourself. And part of you is. However, that part of you grows increasingly small as Thor gently takes hold of your chin and guides your gaze up until you can meet his.

“I’m sorry, cherub. I will try and be worthy of you again.”

“I know,” you admit, knowing how sorry he’s been from the moment he realized that he’d done something that hurt you badly. “I know you are.”

“Can I kiss you, cherub?”

His voice is so deep, so alluring and coaxing that you drop your gaze again, fixing it on his collarbone before slowly you nod.

His arm winds its way around your waist and he pulls you to him before dipping down and catching your lips with his again.

He pulls away after a second because the swell of your belly gets in the way, but he laughs and looks down at it.

The pleasant sound of his happiness gives you too much joy.

As you begin to smile, Thor reaches down to press one hand to the side of your stomach while he pulls you against him again and kisses you this time with more fervor.

The longer he has his lips pressed to yours, the more enthusiastic he gets until finally you’re breathless and you pull back but instead of pulling away, you wrap your arms around him and fist the back of his t-shirt,

You bury your face against his wide chest and Thor brings his hands back up to caress the sides of your face, his lips kissing the top of your head.

“I know I may not have a right to say this, but thank you for coming home. Thank you for coming back to me. I thought I’d lost you."

His arms grow a little tighter, his heart is in an absolute stampede.

You turn your head sideways so that you can listen to his heartbeat.

"This is what I'd wanted," you whimper, starting to be overcome with the emotion of being reunited with Thor and things falling into place more easily. "This is how I'd wanted us to share this moment."

Thor sighs heavily, giving you one more squeeze before he pushes you back a little so that he can look at you.

“I’m so sorry that I robbed you of that. I was a fool,” he nods, his eye intense as he stares into yours with wordless declarations piercing into you.

The memory of your speech with the people when you arrived pops into your head and now with Thor’s arms around you it all feels a little like an overreaction. The past three months feels like a distant nightmare.

Or does this feel like a dream?

“Thor,” you begin but Thor’s lips are on you again, drowning out your words.

“Oh, to hear you say my name,” he declares and kisses you again.

Your mouth opens for him and you absolutely melt against his chest as he nearly dips you in passion.

He pulls back again, “Is this real?”

He kisses you.

“You feel so good in my arms.”

He kisses you.

“Your skin is so…” but then he hums and kisses you.

He dips down and with his arms tight around your waist but also careful with the swell of your stomach, he lifts you so that you’re level with his eye.

“I love you, so much, my cherub. Thank you, thank you for coming home. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I stayed away,” you sigh. “I need to be strong without you, Thor. I was hurt but I never stopped loving you.”

His face goes through shame, understanding, and then elation.

In a burst of subdued anger and aggression for what he put you through, you reach up and grab his shoulder. You dig your fingers in against the taut muscle then reach up to pull one of his ears.

You’re clearly not hurting him but he allows you to move his head, understanding the need to express your anger even if you’re not doing any damage.

“Never do that to me again,” you growl. “Never say that you’ll leave me. Why would you say that? Even in passing? You were so damn sure.”

“No, Y/N, I wasn’t. The moment I saw you, I knew that I could never leave you. I’m sorry. I could never even think those thoughts again.”

“You better not, or I won’t come back next time. I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again.”

Thor takes your threat for what it is. A promise. Truth.

He shakes his head as he leans forward to press his forehead to yours, shutting his eye.

“I swear,” he begins. “On my life.”

He keeps you there, hovering over the ground with your heads together for a few minutes before he slowly lowers you to the ground. You realize it’s because he wants to stroke your belly and you take a slight step back so that he can.

He smiles, happy. It reminds you of the look your people had when you’d arrived only a hundred times as possessive and joyful.

Again, your speech intrudes on your reunion and this time, you won’t let him distract you.

“Thor,” you coax, placing your hands over his where they rest on the sides of your stomach.

“Yes, my cherub?”

He’s excessive in the affection he puts in his voice but you know that he must be floating on cloud nine after what you both went through when you made him leave you at your house.

“I-I did something and I’m not sure if it was right of me to do it,” you watch his brow wrinkle and for a split second you almost lose yourself in the beauty of his face.

Has he always been this handsome?

“When I got back I kinda made a speech? Everyone was so happy to see me and to see me carrying our heir and I wanted to apologize to them for leaving and for making them worry. I wanted to share in their excitement for the baby and with that stupid tabloid having come out yesterday-”

“Right, the article,” there’s guilt in his voice despite there being no truth to the rumors it printed.

“I wanted to put their minds at ease and I...I did confirm that something happened with Jane but not what they were thinking.”

Thor’s expression hardens just a tad and he pulls backs towards a large armchair. He grabs your hand though and pulls you along with him until he can sit and then carefully attempts to offer you his lap, unsure if you’ll sit.

You do, because you’re tired and because you’re not eager to be away from him again. Now that you’re touching him, you’re not in a hurry to change that again.

“What did you say exactly?”

Swallowing hard, you lick your lips nervously, “Um...I told them the truth. Not exactly the truth, but enough of it that they’ll understand that Jane isn’t welcome here. I said that the only reason I left is for my health and the health of the baby, which is true. I didn’t want them to worry about us because even if we didn’t reconcile, I want us to be united for them at least.

“But I don’t trust Jane, Thor. Not after what she did. Not after how she treated me when you weren’t looking, and the people need to know that I will protect them from anyone, no matter who they are to you or me.”

Thor’s face grows pained as you speak, his arm wrapping around your waist as his other hand caresses the side of your stomach. You’re starting to realize that it’s going to be hard to get his hands off it, but that doesn’t seem like a terrible problem.

“I wish you had told me that she’d been rude to you,” Thor sighs, taking his hand off of his stomach to stroke your cheek. “If I had known-”

“She wasn’t rude to me Thor, she dismissed me. I wasn’t even worth acknowledging to her and now I know it’s because she was jealous and wanted you back because what? She saw what we had together and suddenly it was good enough for her?

“I was in her way. That’s all I was. Even if in the end she couldn’t go through with it whether it was because she felt guilty for doing this to us or for lying or for having second thoughts and knowing that she doesn’t want to be Queen or a mom, she’s a bad person to me. And I have every right to protect myself, my baby, and our marriage from her. She’s not welcome here Thor. I never want to see her again. Ever.”

He’s cradling you now, holding you close because the intensity with which you're telling him that Jane is not welcome in your home is transferring to him.

“And if you’d known, you wouldn’t have done anything, Thor. You’d probably have talked to her and asked her what was going on and she would have lied to you and you would have believed her.”

He doesn’t deny it. He does look like it hurts him to know that you know though. That’s enough for you.

“I think it took her lying and doing this to us to make you see what she’s capable of.”

Thor shuts his eye, resting his head against your chest as he wraps his arms around you again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Thor. But you weren’t the one who lied. I mean, you didn’t tell me what was happening, but you weren’t the reason that this happened. If Jane hadn’t lied-”

“But she did,” Thor says, his deep voice anguished. “And I failed to honor my vows. You are my Queen and I should have come to you the moment she told me she was pregnant.”

You both fall into silence as you reach over to stroke his bicep. His skin is so soft. Touching it gives you comfort in a way you weren’t aware you needed. The more you touch it the more you need to feel it.

A finger stroking his skin turns into two, then four, then your entire hand is running up under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

With the way his hand curls around your thigh, you know that both your bodies are responding to your touch. Both of you are heated but instead of giving into that because you aren’t ready for that yet, you lay your head on his shoulder and curl in closer to his chest.

Thor sighs heavily, wrapping you up in his arms as he cradles you close.

“Now we know better,” you whisper.

“Now I know what losing you will do to me,” Thor agrees. “I’ve missed you so much, cherub.”

You don’t respond. You’re too choked up to say anything without your voice cracking so both of you stay like that for a while.

The cocoon of Thor’s arms is toasty and from the exhaustion you’re feeling plus all of the emotions that have drained you, your eyes are heavy and difficult to keep open.

“What about you?”

Thor’s chest rumbles with a chuckle.

“We can talk more tomorrow, cherub. Sleep.”

“I’m not sleepy,” you lie.

“Very well, then. What about me?”

“You’re sleepy?” you look up at him, full of concern.

He chuckles again, “No, cherub. What were you asking?”

“Oh! I just wanted to know if you’re okay. What Jane did to you can’t have been easy. Despite what she did to us as a couple, she said she was pregnant. You’ve been wanting a baby for so long and she dangled that in front of you like the rat that she is. And then she wasn’t even pregnant?”

Thor’s arms constrict around you as he pulls you up towards him to kiss you.

It’s slow and full of emotion.

“Even after all of that, you’re still worried about me?”

“It took time,” you admit. “Once I wasn’t so angry and I thought about what Jane really did. I hate the idea that your heart broke over her lies. I can’t believe she ever loved you if she was willing to make you feel that way.”

Thor just stares at you, searching your eyes before he rubs his nose gently against your own. When he speaks, his voice is so low, so deep, an intimate whisper. It burrows into your chest and settles right there underneath your ribs and makes you breathless with missing him and desire.

“That’s why you’re my Queen, Y/N. And she is not.”

You’re not sure if it’s an Asgardian ability or if maybe it’s something specific to Thor, but he has a way of making you swoon.

“I missed you so much,” he confesses again, that whisper sinful. “Did you not miss me?”

You nod because you can’t speak. There’s a lump in your throat made of both sadness and want.

“Was your bed as frigid as mine was in your absence? Did you miss my breath on your neck as I did yours? Or the steady beat of your heart when you pressed your breast to my back as you held me while I slept?”

Fuck, he’s making this so impossible.

“I hate you so much,” you counter, but his lips stretch into a small knowing smile as you take a tight hold of the neck of his shirt and pull him up to meet your lips.

He exhales heavily into you, tasting you, relishing in every pulsating touch as both your hearts ache and yearn almost in disbelief as if both of you can’t believe that these wants, these needs are finally being met.

As he pulls back to tilt his head the other way, he takes hold of the sides of your face again, his lips grazing yours, “I love you.”

Before you can reply or yank him back into that torturous yet blissful kiss, a voice at the doorway clears their throat.

“Well, that was fast, what happened to keeping him at a distance?”

Loki’s voice pulls your gaze and you can feel your cheeks and neck burn at how easily it seems you’ve crumbled when finally face to face with Thor.

You frown at your brother-in-law, while Thor ignores his brother and leans up to press very non-chaste kisses to your neck, “I told you coming back was a bad idea.”

But Loki’s smile is blinding and with one chuckle he backs out of the room, shutting the door quietly as Thor turns you back to him so that he can get back to kissing you.

[robininthelabyrinth]

LXC offhandedly says something about his relationship with NHS that would be totally innocent from *anyone* else, but sounds scandalously filthy coming from *him*. Bonus points if it's around LWJ and/or WWX and they are floored. Double bonus points if he did it on purpose for revenge over having to listen to *them* all the time. - 🦇

Petty - ao3

The first time was an accident.

No, that wasn’t right. More accurately, the first time was entirely Wei Wuxian’s fault.

(Lan Xichen sometimes thought, not very kindly, that many things were, more than Lan Wangji would necessarily admit to. He had not yet settled with himself if those were his actual thoughts or if it was merely bitterness about everything that had happened and in which Wei Wuxian had played chief role, but that was one of the things he was working on, for himself.

After all those years of being deceived, it was important for him to get to know his own mind, his own thoughts, and to be sure about them.)

“It’s good to see you out and about,” Wei Wuxian said warmly to him when they met again, as if Lan Xichen had only been confined at home with a brief illness rather than in strict seclusion for over a year.

Lan Xichen thought, perhaps, that Wei Wuxian was attempting to translate for Lan Wangji, standing beside him, practically radiating welcome and hopefulness and other such things that Lan Xichen honestly wasn’t equipped to deal with at the moment and had been purposefully ignoring. If so, it was not a very accurate translation, and unnecessary – no one knew his brother better than him.

Certainly not his brother’s long-dead lost love, who hadn’t even known.

“Indeed,” he said, not smiling, and Wei Wuxian’s own smile faded a little, as Lan Wangji’s own hope already had. “Nie Huaisang will be coming to visit me, and I plan to host him at the hanshi.”

That might also have been at Lan Wangji’s request, although only obliquely, if at all – even when he had appeared at his weakest, his most fallible and pathetic, Nie Huaisang had always been as stubborn as an ox (as stubborn as his brother), and no one could make him do anything he didn’t want to do.  This included running his own sect, no matter how much they had tried, and it also included actually listening to the people he’d just begged to solve problems for him. Lan Xichen could remember all the countless times Nie Huaisang had sobbed on his shoulder, and Jin Guangyao’s, too, until they’d given him advice, at which point he would thank them effusively and merrily go along and do whatever he felt like doing regardless. He was very good at getting his own way in the end.

As subsequent events had shown.

Lan Xichen could tell from the expression on Wei Wuxian’s face that he didn’t understand why Lan Xichen would choose to break his seclusion to host Nie Huaisang of all people, especially when he had declined all similar efforts by Lan Wangji, but he wasn’t especially inclined to explain.

If he even could.

How to explain that contemplation had shown that he had been the one to fail Nie Huaisang and not the other way around? Long before they’d ever sworn brotherhood, he had promised Nie Mingjue to watch over Nie Huaisang and aid him whole-heartedly in all his endeavors. Nie Mingjue had always worried, first and foremost, that Nie Huaisang not be lonely, knowing that his brother, born with a weak body, had long struggled with finding his place in his martially-inclined sect – everything else was secondary in Nie Mingjue’s mind, even Nie Huaisang’s personal safety. He’d always said that Nie Huaisang was a proper Nie in that fashion, that he would devote every part of him to the things he loved no matter if it meant death, and there was nothing anyone could do about it; all he’d ever wanted, instead, was for Nie Huaisang not to be alone as he did so.

Lan Xichen had sworn to be there for him.

He hadn’t been.

He’d sworn to stand beside Nie Mingjue, too, promised it in his heart and in the eyes of all the world, and he’d even meant it when he’d done so. And then, despite it all, he’d spent nearly half his life supporting and shielding his murderer – he’d broken so many promises. To the Nie, to himself. The only thing Lan Xichen could do to atone for those failures was to try to do better: to learn from what he’d done, to teach himself what he’d lacked, to make up for his deficiencies. To live up to what little remained of those promises.

And so, if Nie Huaisang wanted to see him, he would see him, even if he had seen no one else.

Wei Wuxian didn’t understand that.

Couldn’t, maybe.

Wei Wuxian was his brother-in-law, he made Lan Wangji happy, and Lan Xichen was grateful for that. He was even grateful, in a painful, agonizing sort of way, for Wei Wuxian’s help in revealing the truth about Jin Guangyao and his dark deeds. But Wei Wuxian forgot pain as soon as it happened and believed everyone else ought to be the same: they were together now, so never mind about all those years Lan Wangji spent alone and in mourning; Jin Guangyao had been a murderer, so never mind about all the good things he’d done or the good times they’d shared; Lan Xichen was out of seclusion, so clearly he’d gotten over everything that had happened.

At least for Lan Xichen, pain did not work that way.

“Well, that’s nice,” Wei Wuxian said after a while, when the silence had gone from merely familiar to actively awkward and Lan Wangji was staring at the ground, his hopes dashed to bits, even though that had not been Lan Xichen’s intent. He loved his brother very much, but he couldn’t heal himself fast enough to assuage Lan Wangji’s guilt at winning his happiness at the expense of Lan Xichen’s pain, nor did he intend to try. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

Lan Xichen did not point out that he was Sect Leader, not Lan Wangji, and that his word was final regarding who did and did not have the right to enter the Cloud Recesses at any time. It would be petty.

He was trying not to be petty. It was very hard.

“I hope to spend some quality time together with him,” Lan Xichen finally said, some meaningless filler designed to let them get out of the current conversational impasse, and was bewildered when Wei Wuxian, possibly inspired by the high tension of the moment, burst out in raucous laughter, reaching out to elbow Lan Wangji in the side.

“I bet you will,” he said, his tone almost jeering. “Quality time, yeah? Just the two of you together in the hanshi and everything.”

It wasn’t until Lan Wangji’s ears reddened slightly that Lan Xichen comprehended what Wei Wuxian was implying. That he had left a year’s seclusion because, what, he wanted to hop into bed with Nie Huaisang?

The mere notion was so puerile that it could barely be considered as rising to the level of a joke, the implication not only crude but actively cruel and disdainful of all the work Lan Xichen had done to put himself back together over the past year, and Lan Xichen had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to respond.

He glanced at Lan Wangji, wondering if his brother would say something – apologize, maybe – but he was clearly unable or unwilling to help. Finally, he shook his head and walked away.

That was the first time.

-

The second time – and many of the other times thereafter – were not accidental at all.

Talking with Nie Huaisang had been wretchedly painful but cleansing, necessary, just as his silent and extended contemplation in seclusion had been. They had not wholly forgiven each other for everything that had happened, whether the harms they had knowingly or unknowingly inflicted or for the agonies they had each suffered, but they were on a path to get there together – each one of them agreeing to learn from what had happened, to try to extend trust to each other, real trust, so that neither of them had to continue on their lonely roads alone.

It might be nearly two decades late, but Lan Xichen was determined to make good on his promise to Nie Mingjue, and Nie Huaisang equally determined in his own way to live up to what his brother would have wanted now that it was an option.

One unexpected aspect of this, interestingly, was how the clash between their values – Lan sect rules, Nie sect principles – gave rise to any number of very interesting analytical conversations. Nie Huaisang was a poor scholar for rules that required rote memorization to learn, but he understood his sect’s moral code down to his bones, well enough to be able to fashion himself a path within it. When pressed for his thoughts on any given subject, his arguments were well-fashioned, logical, and difficult to refute.

Lan Xichen had not enjoyed himself so much in years.

Even in the days when he had wholly believed in Jin Guangyao, his former friend was simply too facile to have a proper back-and-forth with: he would always yield, or seem to, or else dance around the main subject until they were on another on which they could agree; he had always prioritized good feeling over intellecutal growth. He’d never understood what enjoyment could be gotten out of standing your ground on some theoretical or philosophical issue.

At any rate, one of the points Nie Huaisang had won, curiously enough, was in regards to the subject of pettiness: bad in large doses, but acceptable in small, in his view. He compared it to venting frustrations or to understanding and indulging oneself in the positive sense – if you’re a petty person, he said matter-of-factly, you can try to improve yourself, but you’re not going accept yourself unless you just admit it. If that’s the sort of person you were, you wouldn’t get anywhere constantly resisting the urge to fight things out in petty, stupid ways.

Sometimes you just wanted to get into it over something stupid because otherwise you’d get into it over something important, and that was, in Nie Huaisang’s view, not a bad thing: if someone got in your face, get back in theirs.

Lan Xichen was, in many ways, a petty person.

“So, how is Nie Huaisang doing?” Wei Wuxian asked when lunch was not entirely over. Etiquette dictated that Lan Xichen had to respond, and family rules that he knew Wei Wuxian knew made clear it was impermissible to talk over meals: the only acceptable solution, therefore, was for him to consider his half-eaten meal as already complete, respond, and wait until dinner to fill up. And all because Wei Wuxian simply couldn’t wait another half-ke to blurt out his question, because he was too free and unrestrained to honor the rules of the family he had married into just because he personally didn’t think they were important. “Where is he, anyway? I would’ve thought he’d be here with us.”

Lan Xichen put down his bowl with just a little extra more force than he should, enough to make it clink against the table, and Lan Wangji’s eyes tightened a little at the unusual display of irritation.

“He’s still in bed,” Lan Xichen said mildly. “I’m afraid I rather wore him out last night.”

Wei Wuxian choked, misunderstanding, just as Lan Xichen had intended him to.

They’d gotten onto an interesting subject of conversation and had ended up talking most of the previous day’s afternoon and evening, as it happened, and Nie Huaisang was still a sect leader, with important business to attend to; Lan Xichen was fairly sure that after he had retired at the usual time for his sect, Nie Huaisang had worked until nearly dawn. Anyway, Nie Huaisang wasn’t much for set meal-times, not even by Wei Wuxian’s lax standards; he’d shared an early breakfast with Lan Xichen before going to sleep.

“Perhaps you can speak with him later, if you need him,” Lan Xichen said, folding his hands in front of him. “I will pass along your regards when I return to the hanshi. Which I should do now, in fact: I have some correspondence I need to attend to.”

Lan Xichen wondered if Wei Wuxian even noticed that his words signified Lan Xichen’s graceful removal of the work of sect correspondence from Lan Wangji, returning it into his own hands. Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji had managed sect business between them during Lan Xichen’s seclusion, and both had recognized that even though he had emerged from that seclusion he was still very much in the midst of his recovery and neither had tried to push him back into the role of Sect Leader. His announcement that he needed to attend to correspondence indicated that he was shouldering that burden once more – moreover, it was, by Lan sect standards, a rather vicious snub to make the announcement of the transition a public one, however subtle the wording, especially when he did not similarly make any sort of announcement regarding the work his uncle was managing on his behalf.

Petty.

Unnecessarily petty, really – it wasn’t Lan Wangji’s fault that he’d married a man who couldn’t even after all this time comprehend that sometimes you valued something because someone else did, even if you yourself didn’t care for or understand it.  

It was, however, his fault in not putting a stop to Wei Wuxian’s rudeness.

It wasn’t actually hard for a grown man to at least try to respect a rule as basic as do not speak during meals, or for that matter the one about not making tremendous noise late at night when you knew everyone else was sleeping. Having previously been in seclusion, Lan Xichen wasn’t aware of how bad it had gotten, with disciples rearranging their living quarters further and further away from any place Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian might be found breaking the rules against excessive promiscuity – and really, Lan Wangji should know better. No one was asking that he refrain from being in love, even extravagantly so, but they did live in a community, and he ought to have basic respect for others, even if it meant occasionally saying no to his beloved long-lost and miraculously reunited lover.

Lan Xichen knew how hard it was for him to say no, of course; he suffered from the same generosity of spirit as his brother. But hadn’t everything that had happened a year ago shown the folly of always saying yes?

-

“Ah, Wei-xiong,” Lan Xichen said a few days later when they crossed paths in the middle of the day. “Are you on your way to the apothecary? Could I ask you to pick up a few items for me?”

Wei Wuxian shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, presumably still aching from the bout of early afternoon delight that he and Lan Wangji had been indulging in over by the cold spring – which was meant to be a place for cultivation for all, not a private garden in which the young master of the sect could frolic like one of his pet rabbits. It would have to be cleaned before anyone else could use it, and Lan Wangji was undoubtedly back there giving those orders now, his forehead ribbon no doubt askew from having been utilized in private activity before being hastily replaced.

“Certainly, Xichen-xiong,” he said. “What do you need?”

“Some ointments of the sort used for stretching and to ease pain,” Lan Xichen said. “Huaisang has been complaining of soreness and stiffness as of late.”

He had, of course – among his misfortunes, Nie Huaisang had been born with something of a crooked spine, and his lower back would sporadically spasm, causing him great pain. Not that that was what Wei Wuxian was thinking of, of course.

“I’ve tried using my hands on him,” Lan Xichen added, allowing himself to sound regretful – which he was, as he hated to see Nie Huaisang suffering. “But he says it’s not enough, given the, ah, magnitude of the issue. I want to get him some relief and make sure he’s comfortable…I’m sure you understand.”

He was sure Wei Wuxian did not.

“Uh, sure,” Wei Wuxian said, barely bothering to hide the fact that he was giggling under his breath. “I’ll grab some for you, no problem…you should really ask Nie Huaisang to give you some, uh, books. To provide you with some guidance.”

“He’s provided several,” Lan Xichen said peaceably. Nie Huaisang was extremely fussy; naturally he would ensure that Lan Xichen was well supplied in guides on massage before allowing him to tend to him. “But thank you for the suggestion.”

Wei Wuxian nodded and saluted briefly, clearly ready to move on.

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, as if only just remembering. “And tell Wangji that he doesn’t need to come to the meeting this evening – I know the two of you have better things to do with your time than having him listen to interminable reports on agriculture.”

Wei Wuxian actually smiled at that, as if the quarterly agricultural reports from the farms that fed the entire Cloud Recesses weren’t one of the most critical duties for Lan clan members to attend to and one that Lan Wangji had been assisting with since the age of twelve.

That task accomplished, Lan Xichen returned to the hanshi, where Nie Huaisang was scowling over the initial reports that had come in from the furthest farms in writing – he’d already offered to supplement any harvest shortfalls with the excess from Qinghe’s own extremely productive fields, but any shortage in one area could lead to shortages in others; no one wanted another famine among the common people the way there had been during the Sunshot Campaign and the hard years thereafter.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked doubtfully when Lan Xichen mentioned that he’d excused Lan Wangji from attending that evening and would therefore be doubly reliant on Nie Huaisang’s recollection of the meeting afterwards. “Lan Wangji may think you’re punishing him for marrying Wei Wuxian, which you’re not.”

“I’m not,” Lan Xichen agreed, because he wasn’t. If anything, he’d encouraged them to get together, and no matter the cost to himself, he was happy that Lan Wangji had achieved his heart’s desire after wanting it for such a long time.

“He may also interpret it as you punishing him for failing to control his spouse.”

“I don’t want him to control his spouse,” Lan Xichen said. “I want him to have some self-respect. Wangji has always greatly respected the rules of our sect and, until now, has always thought carefully before choosing to break them, accepting the consequences for doing so no matter how harsh. If I believed that Wangji truly disagreed with the rules, I would be willing to engage with him on the subject in good faith, but that isn’t what’s happening. He still believes in the rules.”

“He just doesn’t have the balls to tell Wei Wuxian that he wants him to stop stamping all over them?”

Lan Xichen huffed lightly. “I wouldn’t have put it that way.”

“But it’s what you think,” Nie Huaisang concluded.

“It is,” Lan Xichen said. “They’re going to spend the rest of their lives together – is Wangji planning on letting Wei Wuxian to win every argument without fail, no matter the cost to himself? Is he even planning on informing with him what the cost of his actions is? To always give and never take is not an equal relationship.”

“And your increased sensitivity on the subject of keeping secrets from your loved ones for, purportedly, their own good is completely beside the point, I assume?”

“The fact that I’m sensitive doesn’t make me wrong,” Lan Xichen said. “If Wangji is keeping secrets from Wei Wuxian, if he’s unwilling to rely on him or share his troubles with him, if he intends to one-sidedly sacrifice everything for him without even consulting with him as to whether he would be willing to accept such a sacrifice, then what they have isn’t a marriage.”

There was a house filled with purple gentians in the Cloud Recesses that stood as the eternal reminder of what that sort of marriage looked like, a terrible sacrifice that eventually became as much of a shackle on the recipient as it had been on the giver. Lan Xichen wouldn’t allow Lan Wangji to make that mistake.

And as for Wei Wuxian...if he truly oved Lan Wangji, he wouldn’t want it, either.

Lan Xichen certainly hadn’t.

Nie Huaisang sighed gustily. “All right, fine, fine. You know me, I’m always in favor of people standing up for what they think is the right thing even when it’s hard –” This was an almost grotesque understatement, but the friendship they were forging now was in some large parts based on the gallows humor emerging from their shared traumas. “– so I will reluctantly endorse your actions and, even more reluctantly, attend your meeting with you to take notes for later.”

“I appreciate your help. And your endorsement, of course.”

-

“Nie Huaisang has gotten much better at playing the xiao,” Lan Xichen remarked to Wei Wuxian on the day he removed Lan Wangji from the teaching roster and disqualified him from accompanying the juniors in night-hunts. “He’s a very – hands-on learner.”

Wei Wuxian snorted.

“I’ve been demonstrating the proper technique for him. Breath control is paramount, naturally, but of course you also have to know what to do with your tongue…”

Wei Wuxian was full on sniggering. “Oh, I bet,” he said salaciously. “I’m sure you’re a very hands-on teacher, eh, Xichen-xiong?”

“I want him to excel,” Lan Xichen agreed. “And that means plenty of practice…oh, I’m sorry, Wei-xiong. I shouldn’t have interrupted you – you were running somewhere?”

Right in the middle of the main pathways, no less, where the quick footfalls and sudden movement had startled countless people into very nearly raising an alarm before they realized there wasn’t anything to worry about. There were too many of them that remembered the war.

They had taken comfort in the enforced tranquility of the Cloud Recesses, before.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Wei Wuxian said breezily. “Just had an idea and wanted to get back to my workshop as quickly as possible, that’s all.”

“I see,” Lan Xichen said. “I won’t stand in your way, then.”

He actually was teaching Nie Huaisang how to play the xiao, at his request – he’d made some comparisons to it while debating a matter of ethics, and Nie Huaisang was determined to learn just enough to argue back in kind.

Lan Xichen didn’t have any illusions that Nie Huaisang would stick with it any more than he’d stuck with any other type of cultivation – he’d first tried teaching him musical cultivation when he was a child without any success at all, and Jin Guangyao’s example had definitely not endeared Nie Huaisang to the concept – but it was rather nice to discuss music without necessarily focusing on the backdrop of cultivation within it.

Accordingly, he continued the metaphor with Wei Wuxian for several days running. He talked about how energetic a student Nie Huaisang was –“He’s wearing me out,” he said, shaking his head. “Draining me dry…” – and mentioned that they were having an interesting time going back and forth on the subject of fingering, despite Nie Huaisang’s claims that his weak fingers weren’t nearly as suited for quick, assured movement as Lan Xichen’s.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Lan Xichen had said, even as Wei Wuxian had nearly cried from laughter. “His fingers are very flexible, and I get a great deal of enjoyment from his enthusiasm. Skill comes later.”

“Definitely something you have to work on together,” Wei Wuxian said enthusiastically. “It gets better as you go, doesn’t it?”

In the past few days, he had brought alcohol into public places, rather than leaving it in the jingshi where the breach would be a minor one, and tried to encourage the juniors to share it with him, although they’d refused; he’d even tried to bully them into doing so using his superior age and the respect they’d owed him until Lan Xichen had intervened with ‘urgent’ tasks for the juniors instead.

He had loudly speculated regarding one sect elder’s marital affairs after the man had refused to speak with him following a disagreement, breaking both the rules against malicious gossip and those against disrespecting the older generation all at once. He had gone hunting and fishing right outside the boundary line of the Cloud Recesses in clear sight of the disciples, including several who were attempting to practice cultivation based on compassion for all creatures; several others were pulled from their usual tasks to go purify the ground according to their customs, including a careful check of their wells to ensure that the blood and viscera had not seeped into the groundwater that ran so high and near to the surface.

In return, Lan Xichen relieved Lan Wangji of his requirement to go patrolling – “You’re married now, after all,” he’d said to Wei Wuxian, as if it wasn’t a duty shared by adult every sect member, “I’m sure you want the benefit of his company at night. Isn’t that right?” – and revoked his access to the restricted areas of the sect, including the discipline hall of which he had had sole charge since before the age of fifteen. He asked his uncle to resume the full schedule of teaching, including the classes which had previously been shifted in part over to Lan Wangji – his uncle agreed, understanding his motives, although he looked sick to his stomach with anxiety the way he always did when Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji were fighting – and had publicly chided one of the juniors for “bothering” Lan Wangji with questions regarding his cultivation.

“Aren’t you so old already?” he scolded gently, a smile fixed on his face and his eyes firmly on the junior instead of his brother standing beside him. “You can’t go running to Wangji with every little issue that comes to mind. Reflect on yourself, and take pains not to be a burden to others.”

The junior appeared very nearly on the verge of tears, and he was not the only one. He, at least, understood the significance of Lan Xichen issuing the reprimand in public – if the junior in question had truly been pestering Lan Wangji with too many questions, it would have been a tremendous rebuke to him personally; as he had not, and everyone knew he had not, it was a clear order from the sect leader that no one was to bring any questions to Lan Wangji.

“Brother,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low and hurt.

“I know you must be tired, recently,” Lan Xichen said, looking back at him with a steady, unflinching gaze. “I understand that you and your husband have been taking long walks at night.”

Through residential areas, no less, and Lan Wangji knew better. Perhaps their sect was too strict with the rules about waking and resting, strict enough that the other sects laughed at them over it, but the rules were in place for a reason. Even if Lan Wangji himself was feeling restless enough to wander at night, there were places he could go that were designated specifically for that – gardens, mountain paths, what have you – where their wanderings would not bother others who had already gone to sleep.

Lan Wangji hesitated, his shoulders rising to his ears, but he dropped his gaze to the ground and nodded, conceding the point.

He knew better.

He knew better, he cared about doing better, and he let Wei Wuxian walk all over him anyway.

“It must be difficult to go walking at zi hour and wake at mao,” Lan Xichen said. “Perhaps waking at si hour would suit you better.”

Lan Wangji looked stricken. After over thirty years of waking at the appropriate time, he would have to be suffering from true bone-deep exhaustion for him not to rise at mao hour per their rules; Lan Xichen’s suggestion, if he enforced it, would do nothing but restrict him from leaving the jingshi until that later time.

Confinement was not a punishment Lan Xichen inflicted lightly on anyone, least of all his brother. His brother, who had suffered just as much from what had happened to their mother as he had.

“Perhaps you can use the additional time to talk to your spouse,” Lan Xichen said.

Tell him that you don’t like how he ignores all our rules like he’s trying to make a contest out of it, he meant. Tell him that you wince every time he puts his foot in it, every time he offends someone he didn’t have to, every time he disrespects our ancestors and all but spits on everything they cared about. Tell him that you’ll compromise on some rules, the ones that are genuinely hard for him, but that you want him to follow others out of respect for the fact that they mean something to you.

He would do it for you, Wangji. He loves you. You don’t always have to be the one to sacrifice.

Just tell him.

Lan Wangji’s lips pressed together.

Another refusal. It wasn’t that Lan Xichen didn’t know how stubborn his brother could be, especially in matters relating to Wei Wuxian, and he didn’t really want to match wills against him – he never really had, not in all their life. He loved his little brother so very much, and so Lan Xichen always been the one to yield, the one to give in, the one to make up the difference between them. The one to encourage him, the one to look the other way: whatever Lan Wangji had needed or even wanted, Lan Xichen had sought to give him.

Even the dreadful punishment with the discipline whip had been something Lan Xichen had sought to avert, and would have, if only Lan Wangji had not so self-destructively insisted upon it.

He had allowed it to proceed only because he thought that the physical pain would give Lan Wangji some measure of relief from the enormous emotional pain he was suffering from.

But now – this wasn’t just a temporary physical pain that Lan Wangji was trying to choose.

This was the rest of his life.

Lan Xichen was not going to back down over this.

“Si hour it is, then,” he said with a sigh. Nor would he revoke the instruction he had implicitly given to the juniors that Lan Wangji was no longer an acceptable advisor, unable to guide them in the Lan sect rules that he was constantly defying by proxy. “It’s for the best, I suppose. It’ll help habituate you.”

Lan Wangji looked up sharply.

Lan Xichen met his gaze head on. His brother, he reflected, was for once the one underestimating his stubbornness.

“I understand,” he said, his words very slow and very deliberate and very carefully chosen, “that rising at si hour is customary in the Lotus Pier, if a little late. That’s where Wei Wuxian picked up his habits, was it not?”

Lan Wangji’s eyes were wide as if he couldn’t believe Lan Xichen was saying what he was saying.

Perhaps he had become infected by Wei Wuxian’s obliviousness and needed things to be said flat out.

Very well.

“The Cloud Recesses is the home of the Lan,” Lan Xichen said. “Our lives are here, guided by our rules that are laid out on the Wall of Discipline for all to see. It is the life we have all chosen, freely and without coercion – but I know it is not the life for everyone.”

“Brother!” Lan Wangji exclaimed, and he actually looked viscerally upset, the expression clear enough on his face that even Wei Wuxian ought to be able to tell what he was feeling.

“You don’t have to follow them if you don’t want to, Wangji,” Lan Xichen continued, inexorable. He, like most of his sect, disliked this sort of straightforwardness, but he was Nie Mingjue’s sworn brother and Nie Huaisang’s brother by proxy; he knew how to wield his words with the brutality of a saber as well as the grace of a sword or the gentle lilt of the xiao. “But I will not allow you to continue making a mockery of them. Not here.”

Lan Wangji looked as if he’d been stabbed.

No – Lan Xichen had seen his brother get stabbed. He had taken that better than this.

“I will write to Sect Leader Jiang by the end of the week,” Lan Xichen said, and clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from trembling. Tell him before then. Please. “Between the two of us, I’m certain that we can find somewhere to suit both you and your husband, so that you may live as free and unrestrained as you wish.”

He did Lan Wangji the honor of not looking back as he walked away.

He knew his brother wouldn’t want him to see the tears.

-

It was, if anything, a pleasant surprise when Wei Wuxian burst into Lan Xichen’s home less than a day later. Lan Xichen had thought it would take at least three.

“What is wrong with you?” Wei Wuxian shouted, slamming his hands down on the table in front of Lan Xichen. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Is it me? If it’s me you have a problem with, say it to my face directly!”

Lan Xichen finished swallowing the tea he’d just sipped. “Not everything is about you,” he said, feeling tired. “This is about Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes were red-rimmed as if he, too, had been crying.

“You’re not seriously planning on kicking him out of the Cloud Recesses because I broke a few of your rules, are you?” he asked, biting off each word individually. “He’s your brother. He’s a perfect Lan – he ran your sect for a year!”

“Our sect,” Lan Xichen corrected. “Wangji will always have a place here, as will you.”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why is he convinced that you want him to go?”

Lan Xichen sighed.

“I’m sure his knees hurt,” he said.

“…what?”

“His knees,” Lan Xichen said. “From all the kneeling he’s been doing.”

Wei Wuxian looked truly bewildered now. “Are you – making a sex joke?” he said. “Now?”

“No, though I’m unsurprised you took it as one,” Lan Xichen said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m referring to all the kneeling in penance that my brother has been doing to atone for all the rules he has been breaking on your behalf. You wouldn’t have noticed it, as I assume he’s been deliberately hiding it from you.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him. “He’s been kneeling?”

“Wangji cares very deeply about our sect’s traditions,” Lan Xichen said. “He would never have been made the head of the discipline hall if he didn’t. He knows them backwards and forwards, better than anyone except for my uncle and the sect elders that specialize in it. They’re important to him.”

“But –”

“He keeps track of every rule you instigate him into breaking,” Lan Xichen said flatly. “Every single one, large and small, major or minor, and he tries to do his best to pay for what he’s done because he’d rather kneel all night without getting any sleep, rather hurt his hand copying out rules, rather endure a beating or two if it means he doesn’t have to tell you to stop.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth was slightly agape.

“Do you remember the story I told you about our parents? I shared that story with you for a reason, because I wanted you to better understand Wangji. We all carry the scars our parents left on us, and he’s no different. He’s so afraid of imprisoning you the way our father did our mother that he has decided to follow in our father’s footsteps by sacrificing everything for you.”

“I don’t – I don’t want him to sacrifice anything for me!”

“I know,” Lan Xichen said simply. “That’s why I said that this wasn’t about you. Yes, now that you live here, you should follow our rules, or at least respect them – and respect means respect, not playing around to see how many loopholes you can find in them. Do you think we don’t know about them? That no one in the history of our sect has ever figured out that ‘do not take life within the premises’ could be subverted by taking a life directly outside of it?”

Wei Wuxian was silent.

“We follow the rules because we want to,” Lan Xichen said. “They’re the rules our ancestors put together and handed down. They are meaningful to us, even when they are awkward or seem pointless. Even when other people laugh at us or belittle us or act like we’re stupid for choosing to behave the way we do.”

Wei Wuxian winced.

“Your conduct would be a problem if you were a guest,” Lan Xichen continued. “But you are not a guest. You are Wangji’s husband, my brother-in-law. You are family. If you do not wish to obey the rules, you do not have to, and you will still be welcome here. But Wangji wants to obey the rules – it is only that he fears losing you more.”

“How long have you been having this argument?” Wei Wuxian asked, because he wasn’t actually stupid, merely oblivious.

“I started taking away his responsibilities on the third day following my exit from seclusion,” Lan Xichen said. “I have steadily escalated it with every rule you have incited him into breaking with you since. And still, he refused to speak with you.”

Wei Wuxian’s hands were clenched into fists. He looked down at them.

“I know how much you love my brother,” Lan Xichen said. “If he had told you that it mattered to him, you would have found a way to reach a compromise with him – of that I have no doubt. But if it wasn’t the rules, it would be something else; some other thing that he would choose to sacrifice, another situation where he would choose to endure agony over having a mildly uncomfortable conversation with you. That was why I couldn’t just reach out to you directly. It had to be him; he had to be the one to tell you.”

“I understand,” Wei Wuxian said. “I don’t…I’d rather find it out over this than have him throw away his life instead of telling me I was being stupid.”

Lan Xichen nodded. That had been his fear as well, and the reason that one of his first moves had been to restrict Lan Wangji from going out on night-hunts.

“I’ll talk to him,” Wei Wuxian said, and scrubbed his face. His eyes had started tearing up again. “I’ll – I’ll talk to him. I’ll make him understand that it’s not – he can’t just do that! He didn’t even ask me if I wanted him to give all of that up for me; he knew I wouldn’t want him to, that’s why he didn’t ask, and he just went ahead and did it anyway. He didn’t tell me that he was suffering, that you were taking away his responsibilities! He didn’t say a single word, and I just blithely carried on thinking everything was fucking all right and all the while he was suffering, and – and he – he…oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”

Lan Xichen blinked.

“I did the exact same fucking thing to Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian exploded. He leapt to his feet. “I’m such a fucking idiot! Lan Zhan and me, we’re both – we’re really well matched, aren’t we?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll talk to Lan Zhan,” he said again, and he looked grimly determined the way he had in the war, the same expression shining through even with a new face. “Don’t worry, Xichen-xiong. I’ll make him understand.”

He turned on his heel and marched out of the room.

Lan Xichen watched him go, thinking to himself that he might have inadvertently done something good for Wei Wuxian as well through all of this. And perhaps it would help Lan Wangji’s own crisis to see Wei Wuxian going through the same – because Lan Wangji’s crisis had already taken place.

He could have lied to Wei Wuxian’s face over why they were leaving. He could have chosen not to tell him that Lan Xichen was forcing him out, cutting him off; he could have kept it secret, hidden, could have come up with some story or just left it all unsaid. If he was truly determined to never let any of his pain onto Wei Wuxian’s shoulders, he could have done that.

He’d chosen to come clean instead.

Maybe now they’d be able to move forward as equals, as partners.

(And, if they were really lucky, maybe finally reaching agreement to stop breaking all the rules all the time would mean that they’d stop having sex on every possible available surface and keep it to the jingshi and a few gardens. No one else needed to see that. Really.)

-

“I see that Wangji-xiong and Wei-xiong are now even more disgustingly in love than ever before,” Nie Huaisang said. “And that Wei-xiong seems to have finally gotten over his obsession with defying authority through violating each and every one of the Lan sect rules. I was only away at the Unclean Realm for three days, you know.”

“I work fast,” Lan Xichen said with a smile.

Lan Wangji had come to him, eyes red, and put his head in Lan Xichen’s lap the way he used to as a child, and they’d talked. For hours, they’d talked, in the slow and halting way they had – where each word was carefully considered, each emotion analyzed, and only a quarter of conversation was said out loud – and at the end of it, they were both completely wrecked, but stronger for it.

They’d talked about their parents, which they had never verbalized before; they talked about Jin Guangyao, and Nie Mingjue, and Wei Wuxian, both past and present. They talked about their ruined expectations, their hopes, their guilt; they talked about the rules that bound them both, the ones that served them as both strength and weakness, the foundation on which they relied in their times of doubt. They talked about love, and fear, and anger.

They’d promised to never to need to have to have this conversation ever again, and they were both very determined to keep that promise.

Lan Qiren had agreed to work with Wei Wuxian regarding which rules could be bent and which ones ought not be – finally giving him the full version of education he’d missed out on when he’d been returned home too early by Jiang Fengmian all those years before, because copying rules didn’t mean understanding them – and Lan Xichen had returned to Lan Wangji all the responsibilities and privileges he’d taken away from him, much to the relief of all the juniors that had been suffering through their fight.

(Lan Wangji confided in Lan Xichen that he was relieved that Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi had been away on a long visit to Lanling Jin throughout the entire debacle, and Lan Xichen wholeheartedly agreed.)

“That you do,” Nie Huaisang said. “Did being straightforward help?”

“More than expected,” Lan Xichen conceded. That had been one of the things he and Nie Huaisang had been discussing these past few weeks, the merits of straightforwardness against obliqueness, and they’d both argued both sides of the issue, given their personal experiences. “I will grant you that it served its purpose well in this situation.”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said, and put his chin into his hands. “Now tell me, what’s this I hear about you and me being the subject of a series of apparently godawful sex jokes?”

Lan Xichen froze.

Nie Huaisang grinned.

“It was…a metaphor?” Lan Xichen tried. “A means of communicating with Wei Wuxian while not acknowledging the ongoing situation, and a message about paying attention to underlying meaning.”

“Try again,” Nie Huaisang said gleefully. “You could’ve done that without invoking my name.”

“Who else could I invoke? I spend all my time with you!”

All the time he wasn’t being Sect Leader, that was. If there was one good thing that had come out of this entire debacle beyond his heart-to-heart with Lan Wangji, it was that Lan Xichen had been so anxious over Lan Wangji that he had forgotten his own fears about resuming his position, and now that he was back, it didn’t seem as scary as it had when he’d been alone in his room in seclusion.

Nie Huaisang did not appear especially moved by this eminently logical argument. He put his hands over his heart and fluttered his eyelashes, saying in an affected, almost operatic voice, “And all this time I never knew you felt like that, Xichen-gege –”

Lan Xichen choked.

“To think that all of this time that we spent cloistered together, pure as virgins, we could have been doing all sorts of things – using my, what was the term used, ample assets –”

Lan Xichen wondered if it would be possible for the ground to swallow him up at this very second. Failing that, a sect emergency would do.

Possibly an invasion?

“– and this, of course, refers to my extremely large…stock of picture books.”

“Huaisang…”

Nie Huaisang laughed at his face and settled down across from him. “I’m not ready to court or be courted,” he said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m not either, I don’t think.”

He was starting to think that he might be one day, though. That there would be a day – a distant day, far in the future, just barely coming into view – where his days would be more all right than not, where he could make decisions and be confident that he was making them for himself and not to cover up some mess of trauma.

And maybe, when that day arrived for him, it would also arrive for Nie Huaisang, who was himself digging himself back out of the deep pit he had made in his soul seeking his lonely vengeance.

“Still,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully. “Since Wei-xiong and Lan Wangji are on their way here right now to join us, and given that I’m already crushing your hopes and dreams…”

Lan Xichen foresaw a great deal of mockery in his future, and he was almost looking forward to it.

“…do you want to pretend to be making out on the table that they’ll have to drink tea off until they catch us and plead for mercy?”

Well.

Lan Xichen did always say that he was petty.