#but at the same time i feel completely unnoticed and unheard

[parallaxabomination]

my brain is so full of stress it might explode. but ill do my best to keep putting out my best and stay kind to myself and others. but man, is it hard

[ssahotchnerr]

one more aaron hc: if you're someone who constantly needs to be playing with something (hair elastic, jewelry, etc) but you have none available, he would let you play with his fingers.

not even in a sexual way-- more like he would let you trace his palm, touch his fingertips, even let you pick at his fingernails.

here and now

okay i'm putting an anxious!reader take on this🥺 cw; established relationship, description of anxiety, so much fluff i want to cry

your quickened breath. that was the first thing aaron noticed.

as subtle as it was- extremely quiet as you were attempting to keep it maintained and discrete- it didn't fail to invade his ears. it also helped that he was seated right beside you, and besides, he knew you and all your tells.

and so, his eyes shot downwards to your lap, to your hands more specifically. as he expected, you were repeatedly clenching your fist, while attempting to hold your focus to the conversation at hand. every so often you changed tactics, your thumbnail pushing into the side of your index finger for a second or two, and then your knuckles would constrict again. more so, you were trying to hold onto something.

aaron's eyes lifted back to reid, who was going off on a tangent on how a mathematical sequence related to the geographical profile and to the unsub's comfort zone as a whole. keeping his gaze forward, his hand snuck below the table, easily finding the one that was his perfect fit.

as his hands were large, twice the size of yours, his palm completely enveloped your hand as a whole. quickly, he slipped his fingers under your own, resting between your fingers and palm.

at the contact, you nearly pried your hand away, glancing at aaron and widening your eyes in slight alarm. while in the field and to both your agreement, pda was kept to the absolute minimum. there were the rare occasions the rule was broken, in instances of high concern or danger, but it rarely happened. so aaron crossing that boundary, was almost unheard of.

you met his eyes, your own full of question and confusion.

what are you doing? here? now?

aaron shook his head briefly at your silent words. the two of you understood each other so well, there were times you didn't need words to communicate. loaded looks, variating different meanings appropriate to whatever the situation may be, did all the talking. it was more than enough.

his gaze softened deeply, those brown eyes you loved dearly expressing so much you couldn't put an accurate word to fully summarize it. all you knew, it made you feel safe. loved.

it's okay. i know what i'm doing.

you instantly relaxed at this, your shoulders dropping from the tension plaguing them. you hadn't even realized how much they had stiffened. or quite honestly, you hadn't recognized your anxious tendencies either until aaron had addressed them.

your fingers relaxed in his instantly this time.

at the touch his hand was rough, yet so incredibly gentle at the same time. it was a signature you only knew as aaron's. likewise, they offered you a familiarity that immediately grounded you, beginning to rebalance your raised heart rate.

still unnoticed by the others in the room, you pulled his hand further onto your lap, granting yourself more access. aaron even scooted his chair a few centimeters closer to yours.

your fingertips began to lightly trace his palm, falling into a cycle between moving to his fingers and back again. as you did so your clouded mind began to clear, the discussion at the table beginning to make more sense as you slowly refocused.

next, your fingers grabbed ahold of aaron's. your fingertips danced along his, playing with them gently before folding your hand into his.

once fingers were intertwined together, aaron lightly squeezed your hand. he longed to bring a kiss to your knuckles, and was disappointed the setting prevented him from doing so, but that was a matter he could easily solve later at the privacy of the hotel. or even sneakily attempt once everyone rose from the conference table, distracted.

this time when you peeked at aaron, his lips were raised into a small smile. it would go unknown amongst the others, but you recognized it. again, a subtle characteristic of aaron's only you would know.

just as he had, you returned the gesture and tightened your grip on his hand for a couple seconds, relaying your thankfulness and how much love you held for him.

again, the two of you didn't need words. he knew.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Are your requests open currently? Wanting to submit something but i’m not sure if it would go unanswered if not! I love your work <3

Hi beautiful!!! Sorry it took me 7 business days to respond to this, life has been insane lately. As for me and my requests… that’s a complicated relationship 😅 I never want to close my requests, because I adore hearing all of your ideas and I am honoured that I could be trusted with any of them. At the same time, I have quite a few requests sitting in my inbox that I am trying so hard to get to.

The bottom line is, I will never turn down a request unless I really feel as though I can’t write it or do it justice. I’m always accepting new ideas and input, because as a writer, it’s always helpful. At the same time, I can’t guarantee when it will be completed, but I can say that at some point, it will be done unless I state otherwise.

I have docs started for every request in my inbox that i chip away at when I have the time and motivation. They never go unheard, unseen, or unnoticed by me. Although it may feel to some people that I ignore requests, I swear on my life that I would NEVER. This is such a valid thing to ask, and I wish I could give you a more solid and concrete response.

In short, yes my requests are open. Submit to your hearts desire, and I will read and write to the best of my ability, but I just can’t promise when. If this is a request that you would like completed sooner rather than later, I completely understand if you choose to submit it to one of the other talented and amazing writers on here and in some cases, I would encourage you to do so 🤍

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

The Cliff

Content Warnings: merman whump, storms, washed ashore, trouble breathing, injury, bruises, heat whump, exhaustion

Blue’s Tag List: @deluxewhump @midwinter-wump @briars7 @0idril0

Author’s Notes: I’ve been sitting on this one for a while...it was sitting 99% finished in a google doc that I forgot about. :’) Not my best but hey...I wrote, right?

It was loosely inspired by this image (CW - image contains gore and partial nudity) but changed a lot once I started writing.

----

Weak keens fill the misty morning air over the ocean.

They go unheard. Unanswered.

The water is fairly calm, waves lapping gently against the rocks that jut out here and there, starting small and growing larger the closer they get to the cliffside.

But the night before they were anything but calm. The hurricane had raged for hours, stirring the sea and whipping the trees on land about. By morning debris was strewn across pebbly beaches and floated on the water’s surface.

Some creatures did not make it, a handful of unlucky fish and birds. But most had seen it coming and sought shelter.

One unlucky creature, though, had neither found shelter in time nor been killed. Either one would have been more merciful than this.

Blue is strong, and a good swimmer. His confidence in this was his downfall; he stayed too close to the surface for too long, even when the skies above grew dark and every creature around had fled. By the time he started to head for home it was too late. The churning water picked up speed and force. He tried and tried to swim away but was no match. Soon he grew exhausted, until he had no choice left but to give in to the surging ocean.

The waves lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped, tossed his body mercilessly about, his tail a flash of blue against ominous gray. In their relentless course towards land, they brought the half-conscious merman towards the rocks.

The first violent slam of his back to hard stone knocked him out cold. This was at least a small mercy. He slid with a moan back into the grip of the waves only for them to lift and slam him again and again and again, battering his limp body.

As the storm picked up, the waves grew higher and higher until they crashed against the side of the cliff. They carried the merman with them, and with one roaring wave, threw his body into the hard, uneven surface.

When that wave subsided, Blue was not pulled back down with it. Instead he had been thrown into a crevice between large chunks of rock, wedged at his hips where his tail is thickest. The force of each new wave only served to keep him there until he was firmly stuck.

The storm raged on.

And then it slowed, and slowed some more…

And then dawn came.

And then Blue woke.

----

The first thing he registers is the harshness of daylight even through his shut eyes. He groans and tries to turn away from it, only to find himself unable to move. The attempted motion sends a sharp twinge up his back.

One by one each ache makes itself known; his back, his horribly bruised chest, ribs, one shoulder, one side of his face, his hips, all along his tail. The scrapes and cuts that sting in the open air...

Air...

He forces his eyes open, flinching with a sharp gasp as one swollen eye only opens partway. The throb in his eye and cheek spreads to his head, making it pound relentlessly, and the sunlight isn’t helping.

But why - why is he in the air, not water…

When his blurry vision clears he feels a terror he has never known. Not only is he out of the water, but he is high above the ocean.

The merman panics. His gills - barely damp by now - flare wide and retract, searching for something they will not find. After a moment of terror as he starts to suffocate, he remembers to breathe through his mouth and takes a ragged gasp.

His squirming and labored breathing set his injuries ablaze. Opening his mouth hurts his battered face; expanding his lungs sends sharp pangs across his bruised ribs and chest.

Stuck and scared and hurting, completely helpless in the open air, he keens. His cries are sorrow, regret, a call for help.

Of course no one hears him. No merfolk would be near the surface when they could be hunting in the aftermath of the storm. Even if someone came, what could they do for him? But it doesn’t stop him from wailing until his throat is raw.

Soon the sun is above the horizon and beating down on the merman. As if his bruised and broken skin hadn’t been through enough, the light and air dry away what little moisture the final waves had left him with. He draws shallow breaths no matter how they hurt, fighting to survive.

Blue gets a small reprieve in the form of clouds blocking the sun. He is still far too dry, his skin aching fiercely, but the absence of blinding light doesn’t go unnoticed. He opens his weary eyes and tries to look down, to see how badly he is stuck, and how far away the ocean is…

The first thing he sees is his own battered tail. Each slam against the rock scraped and tore at scales, leaving raw, bloody patches of skin here and there. He whimpers at the sight.

At the upper part of his tail, just below where skin ends and scales begin, he is pressed between the rocks - tight. The pressure is a pain all its own, breaking the scales and bruising the skin beneath them, throbbing dully and making him shudder.

He got in, so he should be able to get out...right?

But still there is the matter of the landscape below: slivers of ocean wrapped around jutting rocks. He can hear the sloshing waves, smell the salty air, it’s all so close and too far. His dry skin longs for the cool touch of water.

Exhaustion threatens to overwhelm Blue. He’s still worn from fighting to swim against the building storm the night before, and now on top of that are his injuries and the suffocating heat. His head lolls, his eyes drifting shut and popping open. The pull of unconsciousness, of an escape from constant pain, is so tempting...but the merman fears if he falls asleep he may never wake again.

Trying to free himself from the crevice is his only option. At the same time, moving is the last thing his sore body and weary mind want to do. And if he gets free, there is still the risk of falling onto one of the rocks below.

Blue takes a few wheezing breaths of dry air. His chest is tight with fear, but he has to try. He begins to squirm his hips and push against the rock with his elbows.

Immediately injuries that had numbed down to a dull ache flare up with a vengeance. His head spins; his body trembles and throbs.

He can’t give up.

It takes several more squirms and pushes and shifts of his weight. The pain threatens to overwhelm him. His breath nearly gives out. His movements become weak and desperate.

One final wriggle does it - his body is freed from where the rocks pinned him.

For a moment the only things holding him up are his wobbling arms. They quickly give in and the merman drops.

Blue passes out before his battered body crashes to the waves below. He’s tossed about before finally sinking down into the water.

New dangers might find him here, and he’s badly injured. But for now he drifts carelessly, rocked by the shifting currents, cradled by the ocean’s cool embrace.

[mf-despair-queen]

Partners in Crime - Lee Taeyong

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Pairing: Lee Taeyong/Reader - Mafia AU

Word Count: 17,864

Summary: Y/N meets the man of her dreams one day randomly on the street. Little does she know - he is the boss of a mafia in town. But does she care? No. They were partners in life - and partners in crime. 

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, I am too lazy to put more to this. 

Notes: April Fools - I’m actually posting! I’ve only had this sitting in my drafts completed for over 3 months. Be warned - I didn’t really proofread this. But it’s fine. everything is fine! Enjoy! 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

“Excuse me!” The young man called, though his calls went unnoticed. Heavy footsteps fell along the concrete as he attempted to catch your retreating figure, clutching the book you dropped while rapidly making your way down the road. When he finally caught up and tapped your shoulder to get your attention, he understood why you ignored his calls. 

With a jump in shock, you turned to the red haired man in awe. Earbuds were tucked deep in your ears, soothing jams filling your mind as you moved. Time stood still when your eyes met his deep brown ones, your heart jumping slightly. Before you stood a handsome man, mid-twenties if you had to guess, with sweet, angelic eyes, fluffy hair draping across his forehead and shielding the small slit in his eyebrow, and the sharpest jaw you had ever encountered. 

He wore a simple red wool shirt that hugged his neck and lean torso, a thin black hoodie and a puffed gray vest that was decorated in red designs. Black jeans hugged his slim waist, a black belt wrapped through the looks, and black vans covered the white socks on his feet. Three sparkling earrings dangled from his left ear, a ring adorning his left helix and one single stud rounded out his jewelry. 

Realizing that all you were doing was staring, the man awkwardly smiling and uttering mumbled words through your music, you tugged the earbuds out. “I’m sorry about that,” you whispered sheepishly. “Music.”

“I get it,” he chuckled deeply. His voice was smooth and sweet, the underlying rasp making your heart jump a second time. “I don’t mean to bother you, but I saw you drop this earlier.”

He extended the book towards you, your eyes widening at his gesture. Carefully, you took the book from him, glancing into your small bag to find it empty. “Oh my god. I didn’t even realize it fell out. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem at all,” he laughed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It’s the least I could do to help a beautiful girl.”

A blush spread along your cheeks, a shy smile growing on your lips. Tucking the book safely back into your bag, you glanced at the handsome man. “Well, can I know the name of the lovely gentleman that returned my book and made my trip to the cafe to read not in vain?”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. “I’m Taeyong.”

You took his hand, finding it warm and soft. “Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N.”

“Same,” you chimed. “Well Taeyong, how can I ever repay you for this?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” he started to say, sealing his lips when you shook your head.

“Please, I insist! I really appreciate what you did. I would have lost it in the middle of the cafe if I found I lost this book. It’s my favorite and it was a gift from my sister,” you confided. “I want to repay you somehow. Please?”

“Well,” he started, rubbing his lips together. His eyes narrowed and his lips curled into a cheshire-like smirk. “You could let me buy you a coffee.”

You giggled at his suggestion, tucking some hair behind your ear. “I’d like that, but only on one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join me for said coffee?”

Taeyong chuckled, nodding happily. “I’d love that.”

A smile grew on your face, butterflies fluttering rampantly inside your stomach. You could feel a small blush spreading across your cheeks as your looked up at the handsome man. “Great. Shall we get going?”

Taeyong smiled back, his glowing smile infectious. “Lead the way, beautiful,” he uttered. You nodded, turning on your heel and leading him towards your original destination - Haru & Oneday - with Taeyong at your side. His hands were tucked deep in his pockets as you walked, a happy hum coming from the man. “So, tell me about yourself.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s a deep conversation. I hope you know that.”

“I have time.”

A skip inside your chest, a knot of excitement in your gut, a flash of heat across your face despite the chilled weather of December.

“Well…”

The entire afternoon was spent talking, tucked into a small corner of the cafe. The second you arrived, Taeyong asked what you wanted. While he ordered your coffee, you picked a secluded place to talk, knowing the book you planned to read that day would go untouched. You were more interested in the mysterious man that captivated you on the street, kindly returning your lost item. 

And learn about him you did. He was a kind soul, living in the same building as a bunch of friends that he worked with in business. He enjoyed singing and dancing in his free time, spitting a rap that made you laugh and clap in excitement. He liked to cook, but you figured out that he had a massive sweet tooth more than anything from the way he devoured a whole slice of chocolate cake by himself. The smile that lit up his face as he ate the decadent treat made you smile happily. 

You told him your story - where you were from, growing up in Busan, your love for cooking and reading. You even told him about the boring desk job you worked to pay for the small apartment you had. You lived an ordinary, boring life in your opinion, but Taeyong listened intently, taking interest in the little things that made you happy. 

Just as the sun was setting and his phone was ringing, presumably from his friends asking where he had disappeared to, did you agree to wrap up for the day. Taeyong slipped from his seat first, but not before sliding a folded napkin in your direction. 

“I enjoyed spending the day together, Y/N,” he mused, pocketing his hands. “I’m glad I was able to meet you today. It really made my day better. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

He waved before walking off, leaving you to gather your stuff. Just as you were finishing, you glanced at the napkin he left. Your stomach flipped and your heart raced, finding his phone number written on the paper, a cute doodle of himself, and the simple words of Call me? printed underneath. Tucking the napkin in your bag, you left the cafe, thanking the owners on your way out.

It was dark by the time you arrived home, closing the front door with a soft click of the lock. Your shoes were left forgotten in the doorway, headed straight for a shower to wash away the day’ odor. Finishing your nightly routine, you returned to the bag you left on your bed, sitting on the plush mattress. Your fingers tugged out the napkin, your lip tugged between your teeth as you contemplated shortly.

Your fingers moved without much though, grabbing your phone and typing the number into a new contact. The message you sent him was simple.

To: Taeyongie - Hey. This is Y/N. I just wanted to thank you again for today. It was great meeting you and getting to know you. I hope we can do it again sometime. 

His response didn’t take long.

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad you messaged me. I was worried for a bit that I wouldn’t get to hear from you again. 

From: Taeyongie - I’m glad I got to meet you too. You really brightened up my day, so for that, I have to say thank you.

From: Taeyongie - I can’t wait to see you again.

Your heart was aflutter, sinking into your bed and rereading the message a few times. You were glad you decided to brave the cold and travel to your favorite cafe, even if you hadn’t intended to almost lose your book and meet a gorgeous gentleman that seemed to steal your heart from under your nose already. After many failed relationships through school and early adulthood, you didn’t think you’d find someone like him that would sweep you off your feet so easily. 

When your phone buzzed again, making you jump slightly in shock, you reread his last message three times before your eyes grew wide.

From: Taeyongie - Though next time, I hope you’ll allow me to take you out for a proper first date.

Your fingers shook as you tried to type a coherent response, 

To: Taeyongie - I’m looking forward to it.

He really was one of a kind.

~

Nearly four months after meeting Taeyong, you were head over heels for the man. You talked to him daily, waking up to sweet messages wishing you a good day and falling asleep to messages bidding you sweet dreams. You had learned much about the man, finding yourself falling deep into the abyss of his chocolate colored eyes. You were wrapped around his finger, though not in a bad sense. He had stolen your heart, and you were willing to let him keep it.

Every other week, you found yourself going out with the man when you weren’t at your house together. When you chose to stay in, you would be wrapped up on your couch or in your bed watching movies while his fingers ran through your hair soothingly, or the tips of his fingers ghostling along your arms. You’d make dinner together, play games together, and even go out to walk Ruby together when he brought the small dog over for your amusement. You’d occasionally find yourself dancing together around the house, singing whatever song he decided to play for you, but you never once hated these moments. They were some of your favorites.

But he would insist on taking you out to dinner, treating you kindly to a romantic date that consisted of expensive dinners or trips to random places - the arcade and the beach being recurring destinations. He’d never let you pay, sometimes making you wonder how he could afford the expensive meals - he never did clarify what his job was - but you wouldn’t decline the dates if it meant you could see him. After the second date, he would always tentatively kiss you goodnight, the connect short and sweet, leaving you craving more. You never shared more than that - though you wished you did.

Tonight was one of those nights. Taeyong had sent you a sweet morning greeting, telling you that he was going to take you out for dinner that night. He didn’t specify where - only to dress elegantly, finishing with a cheesy remark that you always looked fabulous. He planned to pick you up at six sharp, leaving you the rest of the day to clean around the house and prepare for your fancy date. 

At five, you jumped in a shower, dressing in a lacy set of red lingerie before doing your hair and make up. You picked a sleek black dress from your closet - an expensive present you had gotten from your family one year but never found reason to wear - that would accentuate your curves, but not flaunt you in a promiscuous way. The skirt flared out against your thighs and the top hugged your chest, not being too showy around your cleavage. You wanted to impress the man, not make it seem like a slut. You finished with a pair of low heels and minimal jewelry consisting of earrings and a necklace Taeyong insisted he buy you on your third date.

Exactly at six, he was knocking on your door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. He smiled brightly, tilting his head cutely in greeting. The silver earrings swung with the movement, a few loose strands from his slicked back hair flopping loose. He wore a red and black checkered jacket over a black and white checkered button up shirt, tight black jeans with rips in the knees hugging his lean waist. 

“Hey beautiful,” he greeted, extending the flowers towards you. “These are for you.”

“You know you didn’t have to, Tae,” you giggled, taking the flowers from him and relishing in the delicate aroma they offered. “But they are beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I know I didn’t have to but they always make you smile,” he mused with a smile. He watched you rush to put the flowers in a vase before grabbing your purse, locking the door on your way out. His arms wrapped around you, hanging loosely at your side as he stared down at your smiling face. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you murmured with a light blush, running your hands up his arms, resting on his biceps. “You don’t look half bad yourself. Not that it’s hard for you with your face.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughed, taking your hand. “Shall we get going? Dinner awaits.”

“Lead the way.”

He led you to a car - which was rare - that took you to your mysterious location. The tall man in the driver’s seat introduced himself as Johnny, giving you both a smile before driving off. Turned out the man was one of Taeyong’s friends that he had told you briefly about before, and he had kindly offered to drive you both seeing as Taeyong didn’t have a license himself. Johnny kept to himself, allowing you to talk freely with Taeyong, the red haired man flirting carelessly the entire time.

You arrived at a tall building, Taeyong chuckling at the confused look on your face when Johnny parked the car and opened Taeyong’s door for him. Taeyong held out a hand to help you from the vehicle, thanking Johnny for the ride. The tall man simply pat his friend on the back and gave him a wink before returning to the car and driving off. Your hand slid back into Taeyong’s as he led you to the doors of the building, the doorman nodding.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee.”

The interaction with the doorman and Taeyong further confused you. This was different than your normal dinner dates where you always had a private room or balcony in the restaurants, servers catering to your every need. He wasn’t leading you into a high class restaurant where he could bypass the line and walk straight to a table without question. You were in a pristine lobby with a fountain and couches, a giant chandelier above your head. 

He led you to the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, snickering at your confusion. He didn’t bother to clarify what was going on. He simply ran his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to the music play above you. When the elevator dinged that you were at the top floor, the man led you out wordlessly, digging into his pocket for a set of keys for the door at the end of the hall.

“Where are we?” you finally questioned, watching him unlock the door. 

Taeyong hummed while pushing the door open, allowing you to walk in first. He witnessed you gawking at your new surroundings, the elegant living room of the penthouse you found yourself in leaving you flabbergasted. “Welcome home,” he chimed, shutting the door.

“This is where you live?” you asked, turning to the man. In the time you knew him, he had never once talked about where he lived. You had never seen his house, always spending time together in your tiny, cozy apartment. Now, you were staring at the large living room with multiple plush couches, art lining the walls, and a large kitchen and dining room in the distance. The table was decorated with candles and place settings, a bottle of wine being chilled in a bucket.

“Is it too much?” he asked, pouting slightly. 

“You just never mentioned you live in a penthouse!” you scolded, shoving him lightly before wrapping your arms around him. “But this is breathtaking.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered. “I figured that today is our fifth date, not counting our little cafe rendezvous when we first met, so what better date night than for me to make you dinner in my own home.”

“You’re making dinner?” you chirped, gleefully bouncing on the balls of your feet. “I love your cooking so much.”

“Well, go ahead and get comfortable and I will get cooking.”

You nodded, watching him make his way into the kitchen. He poured you a glass of wine before he started cooking, watching you sink into one of the couches to watch him. He caught you occasionally looking around to take in the impressive surroundings, laughing to himself. He told you that his friends lived in their own apartments in the lower floors, leaving you to wonder what exactly they did to afford this. You didn’t know his exact line of work - he always just said business - but he was obviously successful enough to afford the penthouse of the building.

Taeyong beckoned you over when food was ready, pulling out your chair for you. He poured you more wine before serving you a piping hot bowl of bibimbap. Taking his place beside you with his own glass and bowl, he tilted his glass towards you. “To the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You giggled, flushing brightly and tilting your glass to his. With a clink of cups, you responded, “to the most handsome man in the world.”

The meal was delicious, melting on your tongue. You made small talk as you ate, enjoying Taeyong’s giddy nature from drinking. The man couldn’t hold his alcohol at all, and one sip left him red faced and giggly. You helped him with dishes when you were finished, even though he protested it vehemently, finding yourselves flicking water at each other and blowing bubbles into the air.

You curled up on the couch together for a while before he would have to take you home, Your head on his chest and his fingers running through your hair. The silence was welcoming, the sound of his erratic heartbeat all you needed for comfort. He would sometimes hum a song for you, but mostly you just relaxed in his grasp. It was times like this that you enjoyed the most - being with him made you feel content. 

In your entire life, you never cared for someone as much as you did the red haired man before you. Never in your life did you like someone as much as you did Taeyong. He made you feel loved and cherished. He made you feel beautiful and wanted. 

You wanted nothing more than to be with him forever.

You frowned when he suggested it was time to take you home. Instead of calling Johnny to drive you back, you opted for a late night walk so Taeyong could sober himself up, treating yourselves to some crepes on the way. You walked hand in hand the entire way, the sway between you both making your heart jump in your chest. 

Arriving at your apartment, you sighed under your breath, turning to look at the man. “Thank you for tonight,” you told him, giving his hand a squeeze. “I enjoyed our date. I think this was my favorite date so far.”

“Well, there’s more of these to come,” he chuckled, tugging his lip between his teeth. He stared at you silently, moving his free hand up to your face. His fingers curled against your cheek, smoothing across your skin as you sank into his touch. “Y/N…”

“I should probably go inside-”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, tugging you into him. Your hand was dropped so he could cup your face in both hands, putting everything he could into the connection. The shock from the initial kiss wore off, your eyes fluttering closed and returning his kiss. It was deeper than any kiss you shared before. His head was tilted and your lips meshed together perfectly. Your hands gripped at his jacket, pushing up into him as much as possible. 

The world around you stopped. It was just you both in that moment, sharing the most amazing kiss you had ever dreamt of. This was what you wanted, this was what you had waited for. The way his lips dragged against yours as he smothered you with his lips left you eager for more. The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours left you gasping for precious air, yet a desire to return your lips to his.

“Be my girlfriend,” he rasped deeply against your lips. 

All you could do was nod in return before he was kissing you again, dropping his hands to your waist to tug you closer. Your hands moved up and around his neck, tangling into his hair, pulling him deeper into you. The kiss intensified, lips speeding up and parting for an entourage of open-mouth kisses to start. Your bodies were flush against one another, heat spreading along your limbs.

The moment was broken from the ring of his phone, the red-haired man pulled back with a scowl. He kept you against him as he fished the phone from his pocket, reading the message he had received. Low strings of curses left his mouth before dropping the phone back into his pants, tilting your head to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Something came up that I need to take care of.”

“Is everything ok?” you wondered, frowning at his for his reaction to the message.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine, I promise. Just some last minute work popped up that I need to help Mark with,” he tried to reassure you. Something was off about his tone, but you nodded at him anyway. He must have caught your uncertainty, pulling you into a light kiss. “I promise it’s nothing to worry about. Now, go inside and I will talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright, Taeyong,” you whispered, kissing him one last time before backing away to unlock your door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said, blowing you a kiss as he backed away, turning on his heel and stampeding away. 

You watched his form vanish around the corner, tucking yourself into your apartment. Leaning against the door, you let your fingers run along your lips, smiling at the thought of your new boyfriend. The questions you had about his late night business venture were pushed aside for now as you chose to trust the man. You rushed to your room to prepare for sleep, enveloped in happy dreams of the red-haired man.

Outside your building, Taeyong stared up at your window for a moment before a black car pulled up. He quietly filled the backseat, meeting eyes with Johnny and Mark. The blank tint of the windows kept the outside from seeing the gun passed to him by the young lad int he passenger seat, Taeyong checking the clip once over.

“How’d it go?” Johnny questioned cheekily.

“You know the rules,” Taeyong glowered. “Don’t touch my girlfriend and protect her from this shit.”

“What’s going to happen when she finds out?” Mark asked.

“Don’t worry about that. That’s my problem,” Taeyong hummed, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Focus on this deal for now. I can’t have you distracted if this goes south.”

“Yes sir,” both men spoke, the car going quiet as they advanced towards an abandoned warehouse where their deal was to take place. 

~

One year. 

One year since you started dating the love of your life. Six months in, you had been the one to say it first.

“I love you, Lee Taeyong.”

He didn’t hesitate to repeat the phrase multiple times while placing kiss after kiss to every inch of your face and neck before curling into you and cuddling you tightly. You didn’t regret saying it, especially after he responded the way he did, loving you just as much as you loved him. You knew you wanted to spend your life with this man; you knew he held your heart in the palm of his hand. But you were happier than you had ever been. This was the highest point in your life.

You started spending more time around Taeyong’s massive penthouse on your days off or after work, your routine with Taeyong nothing different than before. Everything just seemed to get better - especially as his friends started to migrate into your life as well. There were twenty boys living in the building that he worked with, but he had a group of eight others that were closest to the man and popped up most often. 

You had met Johnny before when he was your chauffeur for your date, so getting to know the tall American was different. He loved photography and fashion, sometimes spending his time with you on your days off by having mini fashion shows in Taeyong’s penthouse. Taeyong always had a good laugh when he walked in on your faux walking down a runway, planting himself on the couch to watch and take his own pictures.

Taeil was the oldest of the bunch, a quiet man that enjoyed singing with his friends Doyoung and Jungwoo. He was famous in the group for his dad jokes, becoming the butt of many jokes. He also had an equally bad alcohol tolerance to your boyfriend.

Doyoung was a snarky man that loved to pick on Taeyong, but you could tell he cared about him. He had rabbit-like qualities that you found adorable. When Taeyong was busy when you were around, Doyoung would make you delicious meals that left you in a food coma on the couch until Taeyong would return.

Jungwoo was a mischievous little brat, but you always found him to be funny. He whined childishly for attention and played around with the others. He craved long hugs that made Taeyong yell at him because he was taking his girlfriend from him. 

Jaehyun was your workout buddy. The fittest of the bunch, the man with deep dimples had offered to exercise with you when you complained you had gotten lazy in Taeyong’s house. You could never keep up with him or Johnny, who often joined you both in the gym, but having someone there to push you was worth it. 

Yuta had the most infectious smile. He would always play games with you and make you smile. But the thing you did most often was watch soccer together. The man loved the sport, having grown up playing in Japan, so watching games together was always exciting. He got so captivated by them that he wouldn’t realize he was jumping around wildly.

Haechan was a brat, but he was skilled in dances. He had this innate ability to watch a dance on tv and perform it. His time would be split between the main group of nine and the younger boys in the building. Even with his evil personality, you loved the young boy, happily failing by his side when you would dance together.

Mark was probably your favorite. He was the one around most often, caring for you when Taeyong was working. He had quickly grown to be like a little brother that supported you through everything. He told you about his life in Canada while you told him about your life in Korea, sharing the littlest things with each other. He would play the guitar for you in his spare time, often lulling you to sleep with the beautiful melodies.

You didn’t expect to meet such a rowdy bunch, but they made your relationship with Taeyong even sweeter. And though you still often had dates with Taeyong, you also spent a lot of time with the group on outings. Going out for meals or going around the city was more special with your hand clamped in Taeyong’s and the bundle of males running around you.

As much as you have enjoyed your one year anniversary alone with Taeyong on a romantic date, eating an expensive dinner that you knew Taeyong would insist you have and finishing the night together tangled in the sheets, you were glad you went with the current idea. When the group found out that it was your anniversary, they insisted on taking you both out for a good night.

What started with a fun meal of barbeque that they paid for completely, not a single cent paid by you or Taeyong, turned into a drunken mess at a nightclub. Hesitant at first, you barely took a shot or two of soju with the others. Taeyong was wrecked just from those couple shots, beginning to drink more and more. Watching him enjoy himself let you relax, beginning to down your own drinks.

The night slowly became a blur of flashing lights and loud music, but you knew Taeyong was always by your side. Either his hand was in yours or resting somewhere on your body - the small of your back, wrapped around your waist and hugging you to his side, and resting on your thigh as you sat at a booth, drinking and playing games together. 

You danced together, your body rolling against his. He was obviously more skilled than you were, but even in his shrunken state, he led you confidently and naturally, grinding against you eagerly. Your back pressed against his chest as his hands sat on your hips, fingers splayed against bare skin from where you shirt rode up. When you faced him, you arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his fluffy red threads. 

Hot kisses were left on your mouth, your lips left puffy and swollen from the multiple attacks he left on you. You were already warm from the club and the plethora of people around you, but your body was searing against his. Each taunting kiss he gave you, lips parted and tongue slipping into your mouth, left you craving more. Your hands wandering against his form, trailing up and down his arms, let him panting, the man tugging his lip between his teeth.

“We should get out of here…”

That’s all he had to mutter once for you to find yourself escaping the heat of the club and back in Taeyong’s penthouse. It was past midnight when you stumbled through the door together, your lips latched together in a sloppy kiss. Your arms were wrapped weakly around him, trying to kick off your shoes as you pushed into the doorway. Taeyong kicked the door shut with his foot, struggling to lock it and discord his sneakers before entering the house. He couldn’t focus with your lips connected to his, your tongues swirling together eagerly between your cheeks.

He picked you up with easy, a squeal of shock lost to his throat. His steps were uneven as he moved forward, supporting you with one hand on your ass, the other following the wall to guide him through the darkness. The kiss broke when he tripped over the rug and bumped into a table, a bruise bound to form on his knee. Low curses left his lips, the man rushing into the bedroom. 

The door slammed shut behind you, Taeyong turning to trap you against the sealed entryway. His lips found home once more on your own, igniting another fiery kiss between you. You happily returned it, tasting the vast amounts of alcohol that lingered on his taste buds. A subtle swipe of his tongue against your lips told you to part them and let him inside, which you willingly complied. The taste of the bitter liquid from the evening was heavy on his tongue as it roamed your cheeks.

Your moans were muffled, mind foggy in the midst of the kiss. It didn’t occur to you that his hands were traveling up your sides, pushing at the bottom of your shirt until it was resting underneath your breasts. The skim of the pads of his thumbs against your sides and ribs sent shivers up your spine, more mewls of delight lost to the sensual lip lock. Taeyong pushed harder against your, his hips rutting against your clothed core, both sets of jeans blocking what you truly desired in that moment. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, letting out a groan of his own.

The first time you separated, chests heaving for precious amounts of air, he uttered two short words. 

“May I?” 

You knew what he wanted, even in the blur of words that met your ears. You nodded at him, arching off the door long enough for him to rid you of your top, the cotton fabric strewn across the floor carelessly. Lips back to yours for a single second before disappearing south, searing hot kisses leaving a wet trail along your neck and clavicle. Your swollen lips parted with delicious moans for him to savor, trembling fingers lacing through his locks on the back of his head. 

His teeth toyed with the strap on your left shoulder first, playfully nipping at your skin in his futile attempts to drag the strap down your arm. Your mewls of delight mixed with short giggles before taking the opportunity to rid yourself of the pesky garment. Taeyong pouted without a doubt - he always hated when you did it for him - but didn’t bother to argue. 

His lips found home on your bare chest, lips wrapping around the pert nipple on your right breast. A content sigh left your mouth, back arching into his touch. Your hands twisted through his red strands, giving him a tug whenever he found a sensitive spot on your chest. You tried to watch him through the haze, but your eyes were blurring too much. 

Was it the alcohol still present, slowly wearing off? Or, was it the pleasure of him suckling at your nipples, giving them short tugs with his teeth, and pulling away with short pops that rang in your ears?

You didn’t know, nor did you care. You were in heaven.

Taeyong spent several long minutes pleasuring your chest, red marks lingering on the mounds and between them when he swaps between them on occasion. With each kiss he left, and each bite he left, his hands holding you up against the wall grabbed at your backside. His hips ground against yours, becoming more frequent and harder against your covered core. The bulge in his tight jeans was obvious, growing more prevelant by the second. His cock was stiff, and his actions just solidified what he wanted.

Placing you on unsteady legs, his nimble fingers made quick work of your pants, the man kneeling long enough to tug them down your legs. Your panties came with, leaving you naked before his eyes. The red head toppled slightly, nearly falling on his ass in his tipsy state. A mixture of the alcohol and his awe at your body left him speechless and wobbly, slowly standing while working at his own jeans.

Your hands were quick to replace his, struggling to undo the button of his dark skinny jeans. Taeyong had to place a hand on the wall to keep himself upright, his other hand massaging his face a few times before pushing his hair back. Low groans and swears escaped, staring down at you when you grew frustrated and collapsed to your knees, stumbling just as he had. 

“Dammit,” you growled, tugging angrily at the jeans when they wouldn’t unbutton. Taeyong chuckled deeply.

“Need a hand?”

“No. Fuck you. I can do it myself.”

The man let out a hefty chortle at your frustration, repaying you for what you did earlier. His fingers made quick work of his own jeans, the button unsnapping and zipper slowly lowered before your eyes. With a short huff, you tugged the dark denim down his legs, leaving them around his ankles so you could rub at his covered cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned loudly. The hand he had on the wall slowly curled into a fist, pounding against the wall lightly. You smirked up at him, biting at your lip. He rarely cursed, but when he did, you knew he meant business. “Don’t tease me.”

You clicked your tongue at him as you tugged his boxers down, letting him spring free. The fabric was left to pool at his feet, you focus turning to the large cock staring straight at your face. It twitched with anticipation, the tip red, swollen and oozing precum. It pulsed as your fingers grazed along the shaft. The sight made your mouth water, tongue tracing your lips slowly.

Taeyong’s fist pounded harder to the wall, a loud grunt exhaled when he felt your lips on the tip just before taking the entire length between your cheeks. He struggled to focus, blinking repeatedly to clear his vision to watch you bobbing your head along his cock. Your hand gripped the base firmly, pumping it in time with your bobs. Your tongue trailed along the underside of his shaft as you moved, the tip traveling along the pulsing vein that protruded out. Your other hand toyed with his balls, juggling them between your fingers and giving them light squeezes.

“Shit,” he cursed again, earning a small smile from you. Taeyong leaned forward, placing his head against the wall, heavier pants starting to leave his lips. He could barely form words with the overwhelming ecstasy of your mouth around his cock. “Please, baby. Give me more.”

You kept your motion steady, not giving into his plea entirely. You wanted to savor the taste of his salty sweetness that seeped onto your tongue, overriding the bitter drink from the early evening. Taeyong didn’t seem pleased; his hand gripped at the hair on the back of your head, his hips jutting forward suddenly. He halted when you gagged once, knowing his abrasive stunt was a bit much.

When you were situated, stilling your movements but keeping his cock resting on your tongue, he thrust forward against. He leveraged the hold he had on your hair to push you forward, your nose meeting his pelvis. His cock met the back of your throat repeatedly as his timed thrusts met your forced head bobs, a slobbering wet gurgle of him fucking your mouth filling the air. Taeyong moaned loudly, unable to keep his voice down - not that he needed to. 

He didn’t stop until he was groaning loudly, his wild thrusts that had grown sloppy ceasing and he was spilling his salty seed down your throat, the white ribbons of cum filling your cheeks and swallowed happily. He pulled out at the end, hand wrapping around the base and giving it a few final pumps. The last few shots landed on your face and chest, your tongue extended to try and capture them. You let out a hearty giggle, tracing the cum along your face and chest with a finger.

Taeyong huffed when he watched you suck the finger clean. The man, fed up of waiting, hoisted you up by the hand before lifting you bridal and turning towards the bed. With the fabric still bundled around his ankles, he stumbled forward, kicking anxiously at them to discard. 

You were thrown careless on the bed with a light yelp and laugh, Taeyong pouncing on top of your bare form. His lips instantly met yours, furious open mouth kisses shared. Your bodies were grinding against each other rapidly, hands eagerly tracing each other’s forms. Your legs twisted together, feet playfully nuzzling against one another. Your arms looped around Taeyong’s neck, fingers curling through his tangled red hair. 

Taeyong pulled away, glancing between your forms long enough to align himself with your core, sheathing himself inside you with one quick thrust. Your eyes closed, moaning and groaning from his size. He wasn’t the largest man out there, but it never ceased to amaze you whenever you were intimate how well he could fill your pussy up. The man stilled, peppering your face with kisses and uttering sweet nothings until you gave him the signature tap on the shoulder to let him know he could continue.

His thursts always started slow, pulling back until he was about to leave you empty and then pushing back in completely. The pace would be slow and steady, soft moans leaving you both. But as time went on, he would gain momentum, hips starting to snap into yours hastily until he was slamming into you, pressing you into the mattress. The sound of clapping skin grew louder, the moans became screams of his name, and your body trembled under his. 

You were quick to orgasm, feeling his thick cock sliding in and out of your tight core quickly, pounding at you quickly. The tip pushed against your g-spot every time he pushed into you, earning himself a breathy pant from below him. Your walls would hug around him, making it harder for him to concentrate on his thrusts. It grew worse when he felt you shudder, back arching and toes curling. Your pussy squeezed him, spilling around his thick shaft and soaking it completely. 

Taeyong stopped moving, not wanting to fill you up so soon, watching your twitching form relax after a minute. Leaning back on his knees between your legs, he pulled himself out, satisfied at how wet his shaft was. HIs fingers toyed with your sensitive entrance for a moment, hearing you groan and watching you twist in subtle discomfort.

He placed a longing kiss on your lips before turning you on your side, laying behind you. His fingers ran along your sides soothingly, drawing different shapes on your stomach and chest. He carefully draped your leg back over his hips, jutting his forward to slide himself between your pussy lips. A low mewl escaped, turning your head back to him to share a loving kiss just as he pushed into you once more.

His hand gripped at your breast, lips pressed to your shoulder. His thrusts picked up steadily, pushing himself deeply into you from behind. The new angle allowed him to hit deeper inside you, his already moist length sliding with ease between your tight walls. He collided with your backside with each thrust, groaning happily with every smack he heard. The bed squeaked with his quick thrusts, jostling with the movements of your bodies. 

Despite his hard and fast repetition of his cock pushing into you, his lips placed kisses to your ear. You could hear his pants and low grunts in the buzz of your ecstasy, enjoying the way he felt thrusting into you furiously. Every slam into you made your head spin, the feeling of his length sliding against your walls causing your heart to beat faster. The way his lips felt against the side of your head at the same time that his cock pushed deeping to and pressed against the most sensitive spot to make you quiver was causing your stomach to burn.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured into your ear softly, nipping at your earlobe. When you moaned in response, his lips curled upwards. His hand grasped tighter to your breast, burrowing his face into you. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I-I love…” you started, panting quickly. 

Taeyong knew what you wanted to say. It was clear. He also knew that you were close again - because so was he. His thrusts were growing sloppy and he could feel your walls tightening sporadically around him. You were both chasing the final high of the night as exhaustion was becoming apparent.

He pulled out, leaving you whining and empty. It wasn’t for long because he pushed you once more on to your back, sliding into you quickly and roughly. Every time, Taeyong had a thing for finishing in a way where he could see your face. He loved to watch you ascend into heaven, feeling blissful from sex. He leaned on his knees between your legs, one hand pushing your leg back and resting on the back of your thigh so your foot rested on his shoulder, and the other pushing your other leg out to spread you wide for him. His eyes were cast onto you body, swapping between your breasts bouncing with his quick snaps, to your heavenly face, swollen lips parted with moans.

“Come on,” he whispered, feeling the sweat running down his brow. “Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded. Rule number one with Taeyong: he always wanted to make sure you were pleased before he was. He always made sure to make you cum before him, and if he didn’t he would work extra hard to please you. It wasn’t uncommon for him to beg for you to snap under him.

“Tae…”

“I know baby,” he let out, heaving for air. “Come on. We’re almost there. Just let it go for me.”

“I love you…”

He grit his teeth and dove in for one last kiss, both of you breaking at the same time. Your bodies trembled together, your juices spilling around his length and his thick seed filling your core completely. Your inner walls were painted white by the strings he spewed, letting them decorate your core in warm stickiness. You moaned into his kiss, too weak to hug him close. 

You were limp when he pulled out, half-lidded eyes watching the satisfied man. His fingers danced along your core, spreading your pussy lips to watch your combined juices trying to escape. One slick finger carefully pushed the juices back in, causing you to shutter and mewl his name. Content with the pleasure, he collapsed beside you, two sweaty bodies sticking to his silk sheets. A thin blanket was dragged over your bodies, one of his arms draping across your stomach. You curled into his side, letting out a long breath.

“I love you so much,” you whispered again. Taeyong didn’t reply, making you glance up at him. “Taeyong?”

“Move in with me,” he whispered. you almost felt like you didn’t hear him right. You blinked a few times before sitting up slowly, groaning in pain. You hugged the blanket to your chest, turning to the man. 

“What?”

“Move in with me,” he repeated, louder this time. “You’re already here all the time, and you shouldn’t have to be paying for the dingy apartment. I love you so much, baby, and I want you to live with me.”

The room grew quiet, the air thick. You repeated the offer in your mind. The alcohol had worn off at this point, so there was little chance that he wasn’t thinking straight. Taeyong stared at you silently as you thought, biting at his lip. Only when you carefully took his hand in yours and placed them laced together in your lap did he let out the breath he had been holding. 

“I will,” you mumbled before turning to him and kissing him passionately. “I will, Taeyong. I love you so much. I will move in with you.”

“Wonderful,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “You just made a man very happy today.”

“Well, you always make me happy,” you told him back.

“Yeah. I always will…”

~

You awoke to the sunlight streaming through a small crack in the curtains, the light hitting your face directly. A low groan left your lips as you turned over, finding the bed cold and empty beside you. Since moving in with Taeyong, you had become accustomed to the morning he was gone when you woke up. He had work to do, and he hated to disturb you when he left. 

When your eyes fell on a small box on your side tab and a folded note, you smiled. Carefully sitting up, blanket to your chest, you grabbed the two items, looking at the note first. It was short:

A beautiful present for a beautiful woman. I will be home for dinner, so I will see you then. I love you. Have a wonderful day babe.

You shook your head, looking into the box. It was a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings that would dangle and shine from your lobes. You shook your head, letting out a short laugh. 

“That man,” you scowled playfully. “He just doesn’t know when to quit.”

He always bought you presents, especially after you moved in months ago. They were always expensive, and you would yell at him for wasting so much on you. He said it wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you. It left you wondering how much money he had. You never fought him hard about it; the gesture was always sweet and made you smile because he thought of you so much.

Climbing out of bed, you grabbed an outfit from the closet, showering and dressing quickly. It was the early afternoon when you stepped out of the penthouse, leaving the large building with a pep in your step. You walked down the road to a small market store on the corner, a place you would frequent when you had small cravings or needed mild groceries. With the thought of Taeyong returning in time for dinner, you wanted to return his generous gift with a homemade meal of his favorite items - complete with a chocolate cake.

The only issue was you were low on groceries. The last of your groceries went to a large group dinner a few nights prior, the pair of you opting for take out after that. You figured you would only get a few groceries for the time being until Johnny could take you down for a full grocery run. 

The door jingled when you walked in, the street oddly empty. You paid no attention to the lack of people around, waving at the store owner who sat at the register behind the counter. You grabbed the small reusable bag and disappeared down the aisles, humming to yourself as you searched for what you needed. 

“Let’s see. If I make kalguktsu, I will need more noodles and vegetables. We have stock still, and I could pick up some prawns for it too. Maybe grab some snacks and something for lunch. Maybe some kimbap…”

You talked to yourself as you placed the desired items in your bag. Making it to the last aisle for your snacks, your eyes ran over the items, searching for anything that sounded good. You kneeled to the floor to look at the lower shelves, placing the bag aside, when the door jingled again. Initially, you paid no mind to it, figuring another customer walked in.

Until you heard a gunshot. 

You collapsed to the side in shock, watching the water canister in the corner get pierced, water leaking onto the ground and flooding it. You covered your mouth in shock, afraid to make a noise. 

“Well, well, Dohyeon,” someone spoke, causing you to shake. “Is anyone else here?”

Your breathing stopped. you glanced towards the end of the aisle, afraid they would hear you or find you. You could feel your hands shaking, tears starting to leak from your eyes. With bated breath, you awaited the owner’s response. 

“No,” he responded confidently, no waiver in his voice. “It’s been slow today. But I guess I know why.”

“Yeah,” the person responded. “Come on in, boss. Coast is clear.”

The door jingled, two pairs of footsteps tapping against the floor. You waited to hear what they would have to say, but what you heard made your heart stop for reasons other than fear.

“You should have known I would find out.”

Through bleary eyes, you glanced up, finding a reflective mirror in the corner of the store. In front of the counter stood four men - four men you knew too well. Johnny and Jaehyun held guns at the owner - Dohyeon - while Mark stood behind the man with familiar red hair. You wanted to cry and sob, but you couldn’t. You were appalled to find Taeyong there, staring down Dohyeon with his own gun.

“You knew those drugs were mine. You were supposed to sell them for us. But no. You had to go and doublecross us and sell the stock to Stray Kids? What kind of profit did you make off that.”

Dohyeon was quiet.

“Yeah, you know I’m fucking pissed. You know better than to cross me. But you did anyway!” Another shot fired, making you jump as a counter behind Dohyeon collapsed. “Now, you’re lucky I’m willing to give you one last chance. I could easily kill you here and now, but you haven’t done us wrong until now. 

“But, it won’t come free. I want you to hand over all of the cash you received from them, plus interest. And I expect the next time we give you something, you make sure to stay selling for us. Your cut will be reduced until you are back in good faith, but it’s better than being dead, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Dohyeon whispered bitterly. 

“You don’t sound very grateful,” Taeyong growled. “Would you prefer I just shoot you here and now? I can make that happen.”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” Mark threw a bag on the counter. “Put the money in the bag. All of it.”

You watched Dohyeon load the bag with money from under the counter, as well at the money from the register to satisfy Taeyong’s demands. The bag was zipped shut, Mark taking it from Dohyeon’s grasp. The owner sat back down, watching the four men.

“Think of this as a warning,” Taeyong sneered. “You agreed to this. You work for me and if I find out you are pulling some shady shit again, I will have you killed in the most gruesome way possible. No one fucks with NCT. Am I clear?”

“Yes…”

“I say am I clear?!”

“Yes sir!”

“Good. And if anyone asks what happened here, we were never here. Some kids vandalized you, or something of the sort. You’re a smart man. That’s obvious by trying to sell to Stray Kids, but not smart enough if you didn’t think you’d be caught.”

Taeyong made his way to the door, Mark in tow. Johnny and Jaehyun followed behind them both, never lowering the guns. Taeyong sent one last glance at the man behind the counter. 

“Pleasure doing business as always.”

When the door closed and the jingling stopped, you dropped your hand, feeling your entire body trembling. After a minute passed, and you were sure they had left, you stood on shaky legs, grabbing the bag from the ground. You stumbled out of the aisle, slipping in the pool of water on your way to the door. Dohyeon said nothing as he watched you slap money onto the counter and rush out the door. You ran down the street with bag in hand, disappearing into the sudden sea of people that flooded the previously vacant area.

Sitting at home awaiting his return was nerve wracking.  The second you got home, you threw yourself into another shower, collapsing to the floor and wailing loudly with sobs. The remainder of the afternoon was spent replaying what happened, and pondering how to confront Taeyong about what you had witnessed. You watched the time tick on, curling into yourself with a blanket on the couch.

Taeyong walked through the door with a smile, dropping his keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his red jacket. “Baby, I’m home,” he called happily, making his way into the living room. He expected to find you cooking or watching tv, but let his smile fade when he noticed the silence and you curled up on the couch staring at nothing. “Babe?”

You didn’t respond, worrying the red-haired man. He rushed forward, taking a seat at your feet. His hand ran along your blanket covered leg, pausing when he felt you flinch. Taeyong frowned, tilting his head at you. “Y/N, what’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I saw you…”

“What?” he questioned. “What are you talking about?”

You finally looked up at him. He could immediately tell you had been crying from your red and swollen eyes. “Tell me honestly - what is your job?”

“I…” he started, but stopped, turning away.

“I saw you at the little corner store you took me too and we always shop at.”

He stayed silent.

“Taeyong, I want the truth.”

“I think you already figured it out,” he rasped bitterly before sighing. “If you want out now, I won’t blame you. I won’t hold it against you. And I will make sure that no one comes after you for it as long as you remain quiet about what you know.

“But I… I have lied to you many times. And I’m not proud of that. I honestly should have never dragged you into this, but I couldn’t help myself. I have lied about many things, but I have never lied about my feelings for you. I love you with all my heart, Y/N, and I will do anything to keep you safe.

“But I understand that I have made mistakes by keeping this from you. I never wanted you to be involved, but I should have seen this coming one day. And I’m sorry.”

His gaze was on the floor as he talked, but shot up when your cold hand took his, lacing your fingers together. He stared at you, nervously holding his breath. “I don’t like that you lied about this. That you kept this from me for so long.”

“I know…”

“But, I’m also in too deep,” you murmured. Taeyong gave your hand a squeeze. “I fell in love with you the day I met you and I’ve only gotten deeper since then. I… I don’t want to leave you. I love you too much to leave you.”

“You know I live a dangerous life, right?”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” you told him. “But, we are in this together. I will support you and help you where I can. We’ll just be partners in crime.”

Taeyong bit his lip, running a hand through his red hair until the strands were tousled and sticking up in random directions. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this? I don’t want you to feel pressured to join this lifestyle because of me.”

“I’m sure,” came your meek voice. The man could tell you were scared of the answer, of the path you were agreeing to, but the solid grip on his hand and the fire behind your blown orbs gave him your resolve. “I want to stay by your side. I will help you no matter what.”

“Partners in crime, eh?” he chuckled weakly, smiling weakly at your own giggle in return. 

“Yeah. Partners in crime. If you go down, I go down with you. I’m not leaving your side in this. I know I may not seem like the best candidate for this, but I am a quick learner for whatever you need. Train me for whatever you think you need me for. 

“But going forward, you can’t keep things like this from me. If you want to make this work - to make us work - we need to have this trust. If you are as serious about us as you say you are, and I know you are because I have felt your love and passion, then we need to be open. Which means no lies, no deceit, and most of all, standing by each other’s decisions. We are partners in life, in death, and now, in crime I guess.” 

You paused briefly to let out a breath, watching the man nod at your words. “I won’t deny that I am scared of what I am agreeing to, but I will do what I have to because I want to be with you. Until death do us part.”

Taeyong didn’t say anything. The leader silently crawled onto the couch with you, your body shifting slightly so he could nestle himself between you and the back cushions. His head rested on your breast, one arm looped loosely around your waist. Your hand ran through his ruffled locks, feeling his tense form starting to relax at the soothing motion. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was scared too - not for the work he did, but for your inevitable involvement. 

“I love you. So much…”

His voice was low and muffled, but his words were clear.

“I love you too…”

It made you wonder how a man as soft as the one curled into your side was when you were alone could be so ruthless. You heard him that day threaten the owner of the store, and the thought alone still sent shivers up your spine. But it was just another thing you were going to accept about the mysterious man. 

You were serious when you said to death do you part. You were determined to stand by his side in every situation. He loved you and you loved him. Even though he was a dangerous man, you knew you couldn’t escape.

He had your heart in his hand after all.

Hours later, long after the sun had set and the clock struck midnight, you sat on the same couch, listening to Taeyong pace around behind you. After your confrontation upon his return home, you prepared dinner and had an emotional discussion about everything. He revealed everything to you in that time, laying his life on the table before you. 

He led a small mafia group called NCT. They were one group under a larger organization, and their group controlled the area you lived in. There were twenty-one boys in their unit, breaking into smaller units to manage their territory. Taeyong mentioned there were rival groups that tended to do business in their area, but for the most part, they didn’t clash too much. 

Taeyong, though he led all of the boys in the building, worked mostly with the eight other boys you had spent so much of your time with. The other two groups, Dream and WayV, had members who lead them when Taeyong couldn’t. The building they lived in was owned by their organization. 

And as he spilled everything, including his background and how he got involved coming out of high school, everything seemed to click more given everything you had been through with him since you met. Yet, it didn’t change your feelings for him. It just solidified his trust in you and his desire to have you in his life. 

Now ame the hard part.

“What’s going on boss?” a loud voice chimed as the front door opened widely, eight chipper boys filing through the entryway quickly, led by Mark. “Did something happen with that weapons… call…”

Mark’s voice faded away when the group saw you sitting on the couch and their leader anxiously walking back and forth, his thumb nail in his mouth as he nibbled at it. All of the boys gaped at the sight, unprepared for your presence. Mark seemed the most uncomfortable, seeing as he was about to talk business, assuming that was what they were being called for given the cryptic message they had received that simply said “we have something to discuss. It’s important.”

“Y/N…” Mark stuttered out, panic laced in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here…”

“She lives here,” Yuta pointed out lowly, only to receive a jab in his side from Mark’s elbow.

“Well, just ignore whatever I was saying! It wa a joke really-”

“It’s fine,” Taeyong said, cutting the young boy off. He stopped pacing to face the group, still biting at his nail. “She knows.”

The boys stared at their leader for a minute before bursting into a loud mixture of questions and concerns. Taeyong stared blankly at them until he got fed up with their loud noise, motioning them to silence. The room grew quiet in an instant, all eight of the boys finding places to eat to listen to what Taeyong had to say. 

“She saw us earlier today when we went to handle Dohyeon. She knows who we are and what we do. We’ve already talked about it,” Taeyong muttered.

You stayed silent, waiting for someone to react. But the last thing you expected was Jaehyun, your trusted workout buddy, to stand from his seat across from you and point a gun at your forehead. His eyes narrowed on your form, your stare on him unwavering. Deep inside, you were quaking with fear. You barely registered the remaining boys behind him yelling at him to stand down.

The leader wasn’t having this action. Taeyong was swift to react himself, grabbing a gun he kept in a drawer near the couch and aiming it at Jaehyun. Taeyong’s glare at his friend was sharp, eyes darker than normal. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping completely. “Stand down, Jae.”

“She knows, Taeyong,” Jaehyun retorted, never moving his gaze to his leader. “What’s to stop her from spilling this to the cops? What’s to stop her from leaving when we least expect it and turning us in? We aren’t the good guys here, and now your little girlfriend knows our secret. I knew this wasn’t a good idea when you started bringing her here. It was only a matter of time. So now, we need to make sure she isn’t going to turn.”

“Jaehyun-”

“I don’t plan to sell you out,” you spoke up, cutting off Taeyong. “If I did, I wouldn’t have come back here and confronted Taeyong about this.”

“So? That means nothing. You could be gathering evidence to bring to the cops-”

“I love Taeyong,” you cut in. “I wouldn’t do that to him, and I wouldn’t do that to you guys. You guys are my friends. We have spent so much time together and I love you guys to death.”

“How can I trust you?” Jaehyun snapped.

“You’ll just have to,” you told him.

“Put the gun down, Jae,” Taeyong told him, watching the man slowly lower the weapon and return to his seat. His own gun was placed aside, placing his hands on your shoulders instead. “We’ve talked about this all night. It hasn’t been easy. But you guys know I love Y/N to death. I don’t want to lose her. And her saying she is willing to accept this part of me, this part of us, means everything to me. I don’t want to lose her.

“So, after talking about it, I’ve agreed to let her join us. She said she wants to help us. But, we wanted to get your guys’ approval for her to join as well. We are a team and I can’t decide this on my own.”

You placed a hand on his that was on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you guys may be concerned, but I promise you that I am here to help. I don’t want to sell anyone out or see anyone get hurt. I just want to be with Taeyong and all of you.” You paused, feeling Taeyong lean down to kiss the top of your head. “Taeyong and I are partners. I love him with all my heart and I will stand by his side until death do us part. Now, we’ll just be partners in crime too.”

The room grew quiet again, your stomach bubbling with nerves. You weren’t sure what their response would be, or what would happen if they decided you didn’t belong. You feared you would be forced to leave the man you loved because of his occupation.

“So, till death do you part? Does that mean you guys are going to get married finally?” Jungwoo chimed happily, eyes sparkling. “I’ve been waiting for Taeyong to propose for so long. Can I be the flower boy?”

“You’re not even the youngest!” Haechan growled, Jungwoo giving him a smug smile.

“But I’m cuter!”

“Hey, no fighting!” Doyoung scolded the two boys. “They didn’t say anything about marriage yet!”

“We all know it’s coming,” Yuta chuckled, watching your cheeks instantly flush a bright red. You turned to Taeyong, flustered. Taeyong shrugged with an obvious smile.

“They aren’t wrong. One day, you will be mine. But, I plan to propose to you properly.”

“Taeyong!” you screamed, swatting at him. Everyone laughed, Jaehyun excluded. As everyone quieted down, Taeyong spoke back up.

“By a show of hands, how many of you are in favor or letting Y/N join? Before you decide, please know that we will need to train her in what we do.” His eyes turned to Jaehyun for a moment before continuing. “On a count of three. One… two… three…”

Four hands shot up instantly - Mark, Jungwoo, Haechan and Yuta. three hands were slow to follow - Taeil, Doyoung and Johnny. Everyone turned to Jaehyun, who had yet to decide. The man stared deeply at you, mouth in a tight line.

“If she joins, I am in charge of training,” his cold voice cut in. “I don’t trust her in this situation and if things turn south, I will not hesitate to end this deal.” 

You shivered at his words, but glanced up at Taeyong, giving him a nod. Taeyong sighed.

“Fine, but just know that if you turn around and kill her, I will kill you.”

“Deal,” Jaehyun said before raising his hand.

Taeyong smiled slightly before nodding. “That’s it. With everyone’s consent,” he hummed, moving to sit beside you. He kissed your cheek swiftly, your face heating. “Welcome to NCT, Y/N.”

You smiled, bowing to the boys. “Thank you for having me.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Mark hummed, everyone agreeing.

You knew he wasn’t wrong. 

~

If you ever thought you’d be good at something in life, it wasn’t your skill with fighting or with a gun. It wasn’t your natural ability to be intimidating on command. Maybe you thought you’d be good at sewing, or maybe drawing beautiful scenary on paper. 

But no. 

Under Jaehyun’s watchful eye, the glint from the darkness as he watched you punch at a dummy in the weight room before pushing it back completely despite being twice your size, or when your eyes narrowed on a target, the sudden jolt of the gun in your hands leading to a bulls eyes through the forehead of your paper victim, you had managed to fit right now with the mafia boys you had come to love. 

Jaehyun, naturally, still had minor suspicions of you, even after months of one-on-one training to get you in tip top shape to be a member. But, the day you managed to take him down in a spar, leaving you giddy with delight before hopping around the room ecstatically, he started to lay off on his threats to end you so willingly. When you hadn’t spilled the truth to anyone, even when your former boss asked why you were quitting so suddenly, he felt a bit more at ease. When you took training seriously, showing up early and staying extra late to master what he was trying to teach, pushing through pain to continue, he would smile just a bit at your determination.

Taeyong couldn’t have been more proud. He had told you that on many occasions. When he would pop in to assess your progress, he never found a second to be unimpressed. You had grown strong in your time with Jaehyun, making you a force to be reckoned with.

And he couldn’t lie when he said it wasn’t attractive. 

There were the days when he would join in on your hand-to-hand training, after Jaehyun was willing to allow his boss to intervene. There were days he would be in the gun range on the ground floor, hidden deep in the back in a soundproof room, where we would watch you fire shot after shot without missing your mark, sometimes joining for a small competition. He never lost, but you didn’t make it easy when he would get distracted by your beauty.

In those days, Jaehyun would dismiss himself early, trusting his boss and friend in case something were to happen. And he was right - in a sense. Those were the days you found yourself getting frisky with your lover, moaning loudly while he thrust into your wet core. He’d have you pressed against a mat in the training room, or sitting atop the table in the gun range where you’d place your unused weapons, pounding you like an animal in heat, leaving searing hot kisses along your face and throat. You’d have to clean up afterwards, but it was worth it to be with Taeyong in that way; night time was never the best for intimacy when you were both exhausted. 

Part of you was glad that no one ever walked in when you had those moments, but part of you was also convinced that Jaehyun knew what would happen when you were left alone together, and he would warn the others not to disturb you. 

He was cold, but you knew he meant well. 

When you awoke one morning nearly six months into your newfound profession, you found Taeyong dressed in a black turtleneck and tan trench coat, loose blue jeans hugging his slim waist, and his bright red locks slicked back the way he did when he meant business, you knew he was on a job that day. 

“I want to join,” you meekly voiced, catching him off guard. The man whipped around to face you, adjusting his necklaces.

“You’re worn out, baby. And this is a pretty big job today. I don’t want you to get involved,” he voiced, biting at his lower lip. “This jewelry store owner that we leant money to so he could start up his business hasn’t paid, but he’s not a pushover. I don’t want you there in case things turn ugly.”

“I’ll be fine, Yong,” you hushed him, slinging yourself from the bed and rushing to the closet. Taeyong pouted, following after you.

“Babe-”

“No, don’t start,” you huffed at him. “You’ve only sent me on small jobs. I’m ready for something more, Taeyong.”

“I know, but-”

“But nothing!” you yelled. When Taeyong recoiled slightly, you sighed. “I’m sorry, Yongie. But I think I’m ready. I agreed to do this, to join you guys. So, let me do my job. I can help. And if things go sour, I can handle myself. I’m almost as good of a marksman as you. I can sometimes take down Jaehyun in a fight and he’s not an easy target. Yes, I’m tired because of yesterday’s training, but I’m not too tired to go help you with this. So, please-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his plump lips sealing yours. Your body instantly melted into his, wrapping your arms around his torso. His hands were clasped to your hips, tugging you closer. When he pulled away, finding your eyes closed and lips puckered, he chuckled. 

“Shut up and get dressed. We don’t have all day.”

You were left alone, a silent cheer leaving your body before rushing to find an outfit. In a matter of minutes, you were bouncing into the living room, pulling on a loose blouse to go with the tight black jeans. Taeyong’s eyes followed after you from the breakfast bar, licking his lips.

“Do you plan to seduce someone?” he chirped cheekily. “Because I must say, it’s working.”

“Shut up,” you scowled at him, trying to hide the blush and smile on your face while trekking to the front door. You picked up a pair of sleek heels - ones that Taeyong gifted you one day - and turned to the red haired man, giving a sultry wink. “Now, shall we get going, big boy? We have a job to do.”

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to this. You’re gonna be the death of me before we ever get to the store.”

You giggled, pulling on your shoes and slipping out the door. Taeyong closely followed, taking your hand on the way to the elevator and to the garage. Johnny and Mark were waiting, as per usual for things like this, but the look of surprise on their faces when they saw you at their boss’ side made you chuckle. They didn’t question, Johnny simply opening the door so you and Taeyong could slide into the back. The tall man took his place at the wheel, Mark bouncing in the passenger seat as the car rolled from its spot onto the crowded street.

On the drive, you were briefed more in depth about what was going on. Mark, who was busy loading ammo into an arsenal of guns, passed two back, Taeyong tucking one into his jeans and handing you the other. Your heart pounded, looking down at the gun in your hand. It felt heavy in your grip. Despite the training, and the few things you had done for Taeyong, you had not actually used the weapon on someone. Would today be the day? You couldn’t say, but something in your gut said today wouldn’t be a good day. Bile rose in your throat at the worrisome feeling that lingered inside.

The street was near desolate when you arrived, the four of you sliding out of the car and approaching the jewelry store. No one was inside when you entered, a small bell ringing upon your entrance. The store owner, an older man named Youngjae, sitting behind the counter turned his head up with a smile that quickly vanished when he realized who had entered. Taeyong approached him confidently, you and Mark on his tail. The young blonde boy carried a large duffle bag in his left hand. Johnny guarded the door, flipping the sign to closed, securing the lock, and pulling down the sun visor so people couldn’t see what was happening so clearly. 

“Time to pay up, Youngjae,” Taeyong spoke clearly, skipping the theatrics and jumping straight to the point. Youngjae’s gaze on the young mafia leader didn’t falter, his lips sealed in a tight line. “Are you deaf? You’re lucky we waited until now to come collect. You are nearly six months overdue on that loan for this shop. And from what I’ve heard, you’ve been doing rather well for yourself.”

Taeyong walked around the store, picking up some necklaces on display that had diamonds that shone brightly, trailing some fingers along the sapphire bracelets, and finally stopping at the engagement rings. He picked one up that had a square cut diamond in the center, two smaller ones adorning either side of it. He seemed to hum in approval, grabbing a velvet box from a stand and turning to Mark. 

“Pack up some of the jewelry. We can use it as part of the payment.” Youngjae went to move when the younger male moved to collect from open stands, Taeyong quick to pull his weapon on the man. The older gentleman rose both hands, stilling in his movements, his stoic face unchanged. “Don’t even think about it.”

When Mark finished collecting what he deemed most valuable, he placed the bag in front of Youngjae. “Money,” the boy spoke.

When he didn’t move, Taeyong’s eyes narrowed. “You heard him,” the boss sneered angrily, narrowing his eyes. “All of the money in your safe deposit under the counter - I know it’s there because we installed it - and in your register. We’ll take that for now. If you continue to avoid payment, we will come back for the bank account. Sound fair?”

Youngjae continued to stay unmoving.

In a flash, you pulled out your own gun, clicking the safety off and aiming directly at his forehead. Your eyes were dark, making the older man visibly swallow. You were mildly thankful for your quick makeup job, making you somewhat more intimidating than your normal soft exterior. 

“I won’t say it again,” you huffed. “Put the money in the bag, or I will shoot you. I don’t have time to play this game with you, so if you value your life, i suggest you do what you’ve been told, pay up when you need to, and move on with your life. You made a deal with the devil for this, so it’s time to pay up. What do you say, sweetie?”

Youngjae silently nodded, opening the register and pulling handfuls of bills out. He followed by kneeling down on the floor to unlock the safe deposit box, pulling out more wads of bills that were all placed into the duffle bag. When he was finished, he backed away slowly, hands still in the air.

“That’s what I thought,” you smiled eerily, nodding at Mark to grab the bag. Taeyong smirked at himself, waving at Johnny to unlock the door. Mark left first, Johnny following to bring the car forward. “Pleasure doing business sweetheart. Don’t let this happen again.”

Blowing in a quick kiss, you made your way to the door, heels clicking and hips swaying. Taeyong followed after you, keeping an eye on the owner before slipping out of the door. You both piled back into the car, the vehicle quick to disappear down the road.

But what you had both missed in that moment was Youngjae pressing the small panic button on the underside of his countertop. His eyes traveled to the small tv on the side of his counter that showed security footage of the car you had gotten into, the man narrowing on the license plate. When his phone rang, police on the other line, he picked up.

“I’ve just been robbed by the mafia. I have their plate number. It’s…”

The events went unbeknownst to you on your way back to the penthouse, Taeyong’s hand on your thigh. He placed a kiss to your ear, nipping it lightly. “That was hot,” he whispered. “I never thought I’d be so turned on hearing you talk like that.”

“Is that so?” you hummed, turning to face him. His eyes were dark and lustful, making you wiggle in your seat. His lips curled up, giving a toothy grin.

“Guys, take care of the goods,” he voiced when Johnny pulled into the garage. You were nearly yanked from the car before it could come to a complete stop, Taeyong lifting you into his arms and carrying you away. Mark and Johnny watched you squeal loudly, cringing when they saw Taeyong smack your backside on his way to the elevator.

“I didn’t need to see that,” Mark mumbled, Johnny nodding in agreement.

The moment you were pushed through the penthouse door, you were dropped onto the couch, shoes and blouse discarded immediately. Taeyong went to pounce on your, narrowly missing your escaping form into your shared bedroom. His huff of annoyance could be heard as you ran into the bathroom, pulling off your jeans and undergarments as you went. You disappeared into the glass shower before Taeyong could join you, starting the hot water up. 

Taeyong’s eyes narrowed on your now wet form, watching you make faces at him through the glass. Your form was bare and dripping, and adding that to the memory of early, he was twitching already. The tan coat had been discarded on the bed before he joined you in the bathroom, but he didn’t hesitate to shed the turtleneck and jeans as well. The door was shut, and the glass door was opened, the man appearing at your side.

Immediately, you were tugged into a searing kiss, your body melting into his grasp under the waterfall of droplets that cascaded down your forms. He didn’t bother to ask for permission, his tongue bypassing your lips to attack the inside of your mouth. His hands gripped harder to your hips, veins running along up his hands and along his arms. His head tilted to the side to press perfectly against you, his mouth molding into yours without issue.

He pulled away for air, the steam from the shower making it harder to breath. Taeyong eyes were darker than normal, lust slated within the brown orbs. His tongue passed over his swollen lips, tracing yours slightly from the close proximity, earning a small whimper from within your throat.

“You were wonderful out there today,” he hummed lowly, nipping at your skin until he reached your ear. “I wasn’t expecting you to jump in the way you did. And you way you handled everything?” He paused for a moment, his breath hot on your ear. “It was pretty fucking hot.”

His words made you shiver, a mewl of delight piercing the sound of falling water. Taeyong pushed back his now wet hair, biting at his lip. 

“I should reward you for it. How does that sound?”

You didn’t even respond. His face was simply tugged back to yours, eagerly kissing his plump lips once more. Your hands cupped his cheeks, taeyong pulling you taut against his body. His steps moved forward; yours moved back. You found yourself pressed against the chillingly cold wall of the shower, grimacing in the midst of the sloppy connection and arch your back away from the steely frost against your skin. It only pushed you further into the mafia boss’ needy body, feeling the heat that radiated from his skin.

His lips traveled from your ear, down your cheek and to your neck, attacking it with suckling kisses that left dark red blotches ebbed on your skin. Your hands on his cheeks slid up to his wet red locks, scratching at his scalp happily. Your body burned under his light touches, feeling his fingers ghosting along your arms to your chest, fondling your breasts for a moment before his lips replaced his diligent digits to suckle at the hardened nipples, finally sliding down between your soaked forms to to with your moist pussy. 

The combination of his long fingers alternating between circling your clit and prodding at your core, and his gentle cites and kisses to your sensitive mounds sent your head reeling back, loud moans unceremoniously filling the air. Taeyong’s wicked grin against your chest was obvious almost as much as his increased actions, speeding up rubbing at your nub and popping his lips against your chest when he would tug at the buds.  

“Yong,” you whimpered at him, squirming in his grasp. Your stomach churned with arousal and delight, the feeling of his fingers sliding into your tight core adding to the stars you were already feeling. The thrusts of the two digits made you body jolt, his hand quick and nimble. His thumb pressed to your clit as he moved, the man grinning at your face that was twisted with ecstasy. “Oh god, baby. Yes.”

“You like that?” he mused, kissing his way back up to your face. “Or, do you like my cock better?”

“At this point, anything,” you managed to get out, breath picking up the closer you got to your end. “I love you so much, Taeyong.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, kissing you lightly. “I love you too, baby.”

He pulled his fingers back before you could finish, a whining groan escaping you. “You love me but you don’t let me finish? How dare you-”

In a flash, you were spun around, your eyes meeting the wall, barely able to make out the condensation dripping along the white porcelain. Your hands pressed to the surface to keep from falling over, fingers curling against it. The feeling stung against your palms, your hands cold in contrast to the wet wall heated from the water that rained around you. The heat of a body pressed against your back, searing kisses placed along your neck and shoulder, sent shivers along your spine. Strong but delicate hands roamed along your form, hips rutting against your backside slowly, before your right leg was hiked up swiftly. 

“Are you ready for me?” he whispered seductively into your ears, lips tracing along the shell delicately.

“Yes, please,” you mewled at him, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Please, Taeyong.”

The low hum heard amongst the shower left your mind blank, anticipation flooding your veins. The slow rut of his hips was agonizing, and it wasn’t until he finally slid into you with one swift thrust that you felt full. A loud moan left your lips, your forehead placed against the wall happily. His thrusts began quick, wasting no time with slamming himself into your tight center and shoving your body further against the wall. 

“Oh Tae,” you let out. The familiar curl of his grin against the side of your head was unmistakable at the sound you made. 

“God, you always feel so good,” he rasped lowly, jutting himself harder than before and grinding against you harshly. The deep grunt he let out was thrilling to hear. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“I think it’s me that got lucky,” you managed to say through plants, jolting when he resumed his rapid thrusts. “I’m so lucky:”

Taeyong seemed to speed up from your broken words, his cock pistoning in and out of you swiftly. His hips clapped against your ass, your leg hiked up bits at a time that made the angle deeper and his cock hit spots that made you shake. Every push into you, he found that one spot that had you moaning his name pathetically, chanting it like a mantra. 

The water was beginning to go cold by the time you were convulsing from his thrusts, feeling his hand wrap around your throat the closer you got to your high. You begged him softly to let you cum, the man commanding you to wait until he was ready to fill you to the brim with his own milky essence. His lips trailed down your neck nipping at the skin with his teeth and giving a gentle squeeze that made your sight go white with a rainbow of stars for a moment. 

“Yong, please.”

“Hold on, baby,” he kept saying, gasping the more he did. His thrusts were growing sloppy and forced the longer he went, his grip on your body hardening. With his forehead on your shoulder, he managed to utter a quick, “I’m almost there,” before grunting loudly.

THe last of his thrusts were the hardest and deepest, his cock lingering inside your wet pussy as he released. His milky seed spilled into you in bursts of warmth, painting your inner walls in the creamy white substance. His release sent your own into a fit of spasms, your walls tightening and convulsing around his length. They hugged at his thick shaft, coating it in your release while milking his own. Taeyong’s movements slowed to a gentle rhythm, letting your two forms meld into one against the wall and your cum mixing together deep inside of you.

Fingers pressed against the side of your face, tilting your head to the side. Your hazy gaze landed on the deep brown irises of Taeyong, a warm smile on his lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, remaining buried deep inside of you as he pressed a firm and loving kiss to your lips, conveying every ounce of love he felt into the connection. The frozen droplets of water did nothing to you against the heat of your bodies and the smoldering kiss you shared. 

And as his lips dragged down against yours, you couldn’t help but to smile.

With your body dried and dressed in onee of Taeyong’s baggy, long-sleeved shirts and a pair of jeans, you walked into the living room, headed for the kitchen. As you opened the fridge to find something to make for dinner, two arms wrapped around your form, a giggle erupting from your lips. Taeyong snuggled into your neck, lifting you off your feet and kicking the fridge shut.

“Taeyong, no! I’m hungry!” you scowled through a laugh, flailing in the man’s arms. Your actions proved futile, Taeyong carrying you to the couch and falling on his back atop it, placing you on his lap. 

“I know. But I wanted to spend some more time with you,” he pouted, the look adorable in your opinion. His fingers played with the hem of the shirt you wore, dipping under it to trace his fingers along your side. “Have I ever mentioned how beautiful you are?”

“Maybe once or twice,” you joked, leaning forward to place a butterfly kiss to his nose. 

Taeyong sent you a shimmering smile, pulling you into a harder kiss. His tongue bypassed your lips instantly, the kiss growing hotter by the second. Your eyes slipped closed, your body eagerly rolling against his. A deep groan was muffled in his throat, hands pushing desperately at your shirt until your chest was exposed. That was the only time he broke the kiss - so he could attach his lips to your perk nipples, tongue flicking them happily.

“Tae,” you moaned loudly. 

You pushed against his chest to sit upright, rolling against him harder and faster. Your jeans pushed into your aching core, feeling his growing hard on through his own pair of black denim bottoms. His hands gripped at your chest, hooded eyes watching you grind against him. Your eyes slid shut, head falling back as his name left your mouth.

“Tae,” you whimpered, cracking open your eyes and turning to look at him. But your movements slowed, much to his dismay. The male under you whimpered and pushed up into you, eager to continue. “Taeyong, what is that?”

The mafia leader ceased his movements, propping himself up on his elbows and turning to follow your gaze. His brow creased at the flashing blue and red lights that reflected slightly on the window.

“The fuck?” he murmured, moving you from his lap and rushing to the window. “Why the fuck are the cops here?”

“The cops?” you whispered to yourself, eying the man you love. Before you could question him more, muffled gunshots could be heard through the building. 

Taeyong was quick to rush to the door, grabbing a gun on the way and sliding on his shoes. You jumped up after him, stumbling as you pulled on your own shoes and following after him. The noise in the hallway was louder than in the penthouse, screaming and shouting growing louder as your bounded down the stairwell. Exhaustion was setting in from the numerous stairs you rushed down, but neither of you stopped.

“Taeyong, wait!” you called at the man who refused to slow down. “Don’t rush in there! You could get hurt!”

Seething with anger, he didn’t listen, pushing open the door to the ground floor as soon as he hit the bottom step. You barely could register someone yelling Taeyong’s name and a shot being fired before he was stumbling back, a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fuck!” he yelled out in pain, pulling his hand back to see the crimson blood coating his fingers. 

“Baby, are you alright?” you asked, pulling him further from the door and seating him on the steps of the stairwell. Your own hand trembled, placed on his and feeling the blood slide between your fingers. “Shit, you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he grimaced, wincing while adjusting how he was sitting. 

“You’re far from, sir,” you told him, ripping off one of the sleeve of the shirt you wore and wrapping it around his arm. “This will help for now but…”

“It’s fine,” he said again. “We need to get out there and meet with the others. I saw them briefly when I opened the door.”

“But what if they shoot again?” you asked, your voice meek.

“I will protect you,” he said, letting out a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay low and you’re going to go left. Jaehyun and Yuta are behind the reception desk.”

“Alright,” you let out. 

“Don’t worry. I will be right behind you.”

Nodding, you cracked open the door, crouching low. The flashing of the police vehicles was brighter when you entered the lobby, finding the once beautiful area destroyed. Dead bodies of the staff that were employed by the NCT mafia to man their building were laid in various areas of the room, blood pooling around their unfortunate bodies after being caught in the crossfire. Furniture was ridden with bullet holes, upholstery exposed, and tables and desks having their wood flaked and chipped. 

Jaehyun was quick to aid you, pulling you behind the front desk before helping Taeyong over. Yuta, Jungwoo and Mark were with him, heavily breathing and reloading their guns with the limited ammo they had. 

“What the hell is going on?” Taeyong snarled at no one in particular. 

“The cops, obviously,” Yuta cheekily joked, his laughter ceased with Taeyong’s glare.

“Obviously,” came the leader’s retort. “Did the police say anything?”

“No,” Mark told him, leaning against the desk. “I can only assume we were ratted out after what happened earlier.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Taeyong yelled. “Shit!”

“Yong, calm down,” you told him, taking his shaking hand. This seemed to calm him slightly.

“Where is everyone else?”

“Already sent off to the escape tunnels,” Jungwoo mumbled, eyes darting to a wall to the right. Taeyong had told you of the secret passage for escape in case of emergencies. “We told them that we would hold them off so they could get to the cars and escape.”

Taeyong nodded, running a hand through his red locks. His mouth opened, only to be silenced by the squeal of a microphone outside.

“This is the Seoul Police. We have the place surrounded. Come out with your hands up, or we will be forced to fire!”

The boys seemed adamant on fighting, telling you to stay down as they opened fire at the door and windows, the police firing back with each shot. The ring of the shots made your head hurt, your hands cupping your ears in an attempt to shield them. Your eyes squeezed closed, curling in on yourself and only hoping that a stray shot didn’t hit anyone. 

When the firing came to a stop, and the boys ducked down, thankfully unharmed, they were all cursing. Jaehyun pushed at the desk, dropping his now empty gun.

“We’re fucked,” he growled, ruffling his dark locks. 

“No,” Taeyong said firmly. “You guys go and escape. I will keep them distracted.”

“What, no-” Yuta began to protest, but Taeyong shook his head.

“I’m your leader. I swore to protect you all. I will go down fighting for my family.”

Yuta, Jungwoo, Mark and Jaehyun nodded, Marking peering around the desk. “We have a chance now. They aren’t looking in that way. If we can make it to the passage, we’re fine.”

“Good, then go,” Taeyong ordered, turning to look at you. “You need to go with them.”

“No,” you firmly said. 

“That wasn’t an offer, Y/N,” Taeyong huffed. “Please, I need you to go. I need you to be safe-”

“I know it wasn’t an offer. I know what you’re thinking, but my answer is still no. I told you a long time ago when I learned what you do that I would be by your side until the end. I will be by your side until death do us part. I’m not leaving you to handle this on your own, Lee Taeyong. If you go down, I’m going with you.”

“Y/N,” he started, glancing at the others. They all held looks of concern, but chose to say nothing when their leader nodded hesitantly. The four men gave you a soft look before they darted for the passageway, the wall sliding open and closed quickly, their forms gone.

Taeyong sighed, leaning his back against the desk. He took the gun from his jeans that he grabbed on his way out of the penthouse, checking the ammo he had. “Not much left, eh?”

“Never thought this would be the end, did you?” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. Taeyong smiled for a second before becoming serious. 

“You should have left while you could…”

“You know that wasn’t a choice.” A hand slid into his.”We are partners in crime after all. If you go down, I’m going down with you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, and I will never regret it.”

A small smile graced the man’s face, lacing his fingers with yours. With a reassuring squeeze and the click of his gun in his right hand, he glanced to his side. 

“I honestly knew this day was going to come eventually. I knew I would go down one way or another,,” he rasped, tucking the gun once more into the back of his jeans. His eyes locked on yours before continuing, “But I’m glad that I have you by my side.”

You smiled at him before placing a tender kiss to his lips, your free hand carefully placed on his bandaged shoulder. His eyes closed, relishing in the feeling and taste of your lips on his. The screams from outside the building fell on deaf ears. The threats made went unheard. In those ten seconds, it was just the both of you, embraced by the calm emotions shared between your forms. Silent tears slid down your cheeks from fear and sadness, knowing your impending fate, but he wiped them away gently after pulling away. His lips dragged down yours as he backed away solemnly, wishing this wouldn’t be the end.

“I love you,” he mumbled just loud enough to be heard. 

“I love you too,” you repeated, taking his hand and preparing to stand and face the gallows of red and blue lights flashing through broken windows and bent blinds. “I always will, Taeyong.”

Together you stood, lifting your hands as you walked towards the door. You spied the barrel of guns aimed at you as you stopped at the door, staring down the cops. Their words fell deaf on your ears waiting for Taeyong to pull the gun and proceed with his last hurrah. Your heart was pounding, hands clammy.

This was the end. 

Just as Taeyong reached for his gun, smoke filled the area, shouts and screams and shots firing around the blinded area. Taeyong gripped your hand, tugging you back into the lobby of the building. He rushed towards the secret passage holding your hand tightly. As the wall slid open, he turned back to the doorway, spotting a figure in dark blue with a gas mask on watching them. You turned to follow his gaze, spotting the figure gesture before disappearing into the smoke.

“Who was that?” you asked quietly.

Taeyong pushed against the small of your back to force you into the passage, the wall sliding shut behind him. “Heechul.”

“Who’s that?”

“Our older brother mafia,” Taeyong hummed, smiling giddily. “Super Junior.”

“They came to our rescue?”

“Yeah,” the leader mumbled. “The others must have called them as soon as it was safe.”

“Well, I’m glad then…”

Taeyong chuckled, pulling you into a hug despite the pain he felt in his injured arm. His face nestled into your hair, a low sob escaping his throat. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“We’re both safe.”

“Well, not yet I guess,” Taeyong said. “We need to go. Now.”

“Alright…”

Taeyong took your hand once more, the two of you running down the darkened hall, hoping that nothing would find you at the end.

~

You hummed a song softly, staring out a crack in the window at the barren road in front of the motel. Your fingers ran soothingly through the dyed black locks of your lover, who was curled up in your lap. Turning to look down at him, your own dyed locks fell against your cheeks, ticking his nose. A smile grew on his face, eyes remaining closed. 

You had taken refuge in a small motel far from the city, waiting for things to die down. The boys were scattered and in hiding, just like yourselves. Disposable phones were the only way to keep in contact to make sure everyone was safe still. There was no telling how long you were to live like this, but you didn’t mind it. 

“Y/N,” Taeyong sang, finally opening his chocolate colored orbs to look up at you. “I love you.”

He took your hand that was previously resting on his chest into his, playing  with the square cut diamond ring you wore. It was the same one he took from the shop that day. A few days after your escape, after Taeyong had been patched up for his injury by the Super Junior mafia and everyone separated for protection, going into hiding, he pulled out the box from his jeans pocket. 

“I was going to propose with this that night. I had everything planned - a nice dinner, a big speech, and a night to make love to you - but it all got fucked up. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me,” he had said while laying in bed, fiddling with the box. 

“You’re stupid if you think after all of this that I would say no and leave you. Till death do we part, remember?”

You happily wore the ring still, never once taking it off since he slid it on your finger. It wasn’t your ideal proposal, but you weren’t going to argue if it meant you got to be with him. Watching him fiddle with it now, a grin on his soft, handsome features, left your heart fluttering. 

“I love you too, Lee Taeyong,” you hummed. “And remember, I will always be by your side.”

“Partners until the end?” He asked. You smiled leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Naturally.”

[skylarmoon71]

AU Blind Murdcok Reader x Leonardo (TMNT 2014/2016) Chapter 2

The good thing about being blind was no one ever questioned when you walked in with a bruised eye or swollen cheek. You’d simply say you walked into something, or someone, and the person questioning you would immediately get uncomfortable and drop the conversation. This particular someone being your homeroom teacher.

“W-Well please take your seat.”

So you did, sitting quietly. The little murmurs always sounded so loud in your ear, you’d long learnt to shut it out.

You grimaced when you reached under the desk to get your book.

“Damn it.” you’d managed to completely cover your arm, you didn’t need anyone asking why you were bleeding. Worse yet, realizing you had a bullet wound.

You encounter last night was still fresh in your mind. You barely believed it.

~Flashback~

“She’s waking up, step back!”

“What? That's impossible she should be out for a couple days.”

“Guys let her breathe.”

The number of voices around you wasn’t helping, especially since you had very little recollection of what happened, or where you were.

You took a few calming breaths, getting worked up wasn’t going to help. If you panicked, it would be harder to focus on anything.

“Leonardo.”

That was the name you recalled, the one the others kept calling. The leader, he had to be.

“Leonardo.” your tone surprised them all, and they took a step back. You supposed they didn’t expect you to be so calm. You felt a little more relieved at the steady beats of their hearts. So far so good, no threat.

“I’m Leonardo. I’m surprised you remembered, you were pretty out of it. “

“You helped me..” Saved you was more like it. Your senses were slowly coming back. You could feel the cloth on your arm. They’d thoroughly covered the wound in gauze. From the feel of it, they got the bullet out too.

“Of course we did, I’m Mikey by the way. We’re always down for helping a fellow vigilante!” That same excited voice from before. So you didn’t imagine it. Their weapons or their size. The one behind you kept shifting, you could feel the unease just oozing off him.

“Is there something bothering you, I can feel you squirming. It’s distracting.” 

He huffed. Didn’t need sight to know you’d struck a nerve.

“You’re lucky we didn’t just leave you out there for the police!” you could understand why he was upset, you did hold a blade to his brother.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” If there was one thing you weren’t, it was ungrateful. Whoever, or whatever they were, they didn’t just save your life, but also your identity. You straightened from your spot on the bed. “Thank you for helping me.” The little grunt was an indication that the angry one was still mad, but Leonardo sounded relieved. “You’re welcome. I have to admit, you took us by surprise. Usually we’re the ones leaving others speechless. But you..are you really..”

“Blind? Yes.”

It was always uncomfortable for others. You figured they didn’t like asking, maybe as much as you liked being treated like a cripple. Something else you appreciated is the fact that your mask was still intact. You finger glided over the top, and Leo caught the action.

“We didn’t move it, I swear.”

“I believe you.” you didn’t even hesitate, slipping your fingers under the dark fabric as you pulled it off.

You could physically feel the stillness in the air.

“I’m (Y/N) Murdock, but everyone seems to like the name Daredevil. Nice to meet you.”

~Flashback end~

It was weird, but you really hope you’d get to see them again. You memorized the route to their lair, so it wasn’t like you didn’t know where they lived. The smell of the sewers were a dead give away. You didn’t want to go searching though, it felt a bit intrusive. If you were lucky, you might run into them on your nightly ‘walks’.

All you could do was wait and see.

“Heads up.” you didn’t even flinch when the book knocked into the back of your head. Laughter filled the room, and your teacher started yelling at the students responsible, and you rubbed the area, unimpressed.

That was the third one this week. Your head should have been strong as vibranium by now. Usually it was just paper, or plastic. They were really stepping up.

“Are you alright Ms. Murdock.” you nod at your teacher’s question. “Maybe you should head to the nurse.” She rounded the corner to check your head, and as she reached out to survey the damage you flinched, grabbing her hand. She froze, and the students were quiet.

“I’m fine.” you said stiffly. You released her hand, and she pulled back. “Y-Yes, I apologize.” you could tell she didn’t expect it. Sometimes it was hard to turn off your other half. The stronger half. More guarded.

“Freak!” the yell echoed, and the laughter continued. Poor woman was back to trying to regain order.

It would surely be a tedious day.

~~~~

“Murdock, wanna come to the party tonight, might be some brail you can read.”

Little snickers, snide remarks, did they ever get tired. You would have liked to say that you were numb to it, but it was more like you’d grown used to it. The teasing, the menacing statements. You considered doing something about it too. But you figured it was a wasted effort. A few more years and you would be out of there. Hell, from the looks of it, you might even run into a couple of them in the future, hopefully not though.

As you exited the school, you tapped your stick along the concrete. It was still a bit of a task to move around. With how much blood you lost, it wasn’t unheard of. You figured you would need a few days to recover, so no strenuous activities for the time being. Only problem was, crime didn’t exactly care about your schedule. As you rounded the corner, you made an abrupt stop at the light. The conversation of the men behind you didn’t go unnoticed.

“Did you hear, apparently that daredevil guy was seen close to the docks last night. Place was a wreck when the police got there.”

“That’s crazy, thought he worked in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Maybe he’s on vacation.” the two males laughed, lifting their heads when the light changed. You were about to take a step forward, but someone behind you went rushing past, you evaded easily, but panicked when you heard the aggressive honking not too far ahead.

Dropping your stick, you dove forward, crashing into the person and successfully pulling them out of the way. The both of you hit the ground with a harsh thud, and you could hear a few yells from onlookers. The car that rushed passed didn’t even stop and you moved your head, sighing when you heard the rapid heartbeat of the young boy under you.

“Johnny!” From the sound it was his mother. She ran over and you moved off so she could get to him. He was now crying, probably realizing what could have happened.

“Thank you so much you saved my boy!” You assumed her eyes were now trained in your direction, and a few other people moved over, someone helped you to your feet, and another picked up your cane.

“That's some good reflex you got there.” A man said handing you the rod. You took it gratefully, dusting off your shoulder.

“People really have no conscience, the dickhead ran a red light and he didn’t even stop to see the damage. “

There were a number of other comments, you could understand their dismay. It made you smile a little. In Hell’s Kitchen everyone probably would have just gone on their way. Maybe take a few pictures.

“Thank you.” you say softly to the individuals you helped you out. The fall didn’t exactly help with your already battered body. You were grateful you made it in time. With your injuries you realized that your response was a bit delayed, luckily no one was hurt.

“Johnny, you should be more careful when you cross the street, you almost gave your mother a heart attack. You have to look out for her okay, so be careful. “

“I-I will! Thank you Miss.” you smile, nodding your head.

“You’re welcome kid.”

[yinses]

red velvet | gustave ‘doc’ kateb x reader

this wasn’t a request but im trash for doc and really any combat medic. its my sin and i refuse to repent for it. amen. some good ole mature content for my man. 

“it’s-it… still feels degrading.”

you held back a laugh, still finding humor in the absolute seriousness the combative physician took in such a casual display of sexual dominance. frankly, most of your concern had been geared towards him berating the unprofessionalism of your offer in a public setting . but you should have known the frenchman would be more attentive to the unequal power display. 

but in a way you needed this, craved the opportunity to lose sense of the world for once in your chaotic career. upon trading the cushion trauma position at an esteemed center in paris, you had in turn given up the freedom of careless actions. it was imperative to your very existence to always be on guard and conscientious of your environment. 

so yes, at the expense of your reverence, as gustave seemed more perturbed by than you, literally nothing would please you more than the simple act of resting comfortably under his desk for a few hours with your lips sealed firmly around his cock.

with effort, you managed to work the exasperated smile off your face. “i want this because i trust you. you’ll enjoy it too.”

his lips curled downward, but he didn’t deny that obvious fact. still managing genuine resistance, the frenchman reluctantly allowed you to corral him behind his desk and into his chair. you knew for a fact that he had a long day of sorting charts and micromanaging the wellness profiles for the incoming recruits. it was a long, drawn out, and mundane task that could use some liveliness. truly a mutually beneficial arrangement. 

eventually you won out, a small liberty he granted you over his authority when not under direct supervision as the attending. your heart warmed at the sweet gesture of his offered pillow that you used to cushion your rump as you leaned into his thigh. gustave continued to be characteristically doting as he cupped your face and drew circles against the corner of your mouth with his thumb. your lips parted easily, tongue curling around the appendage and suckling firmly. pleased with the full body shudder that vibrates against your chin propped against him. 

you parted with a kiss against its pad,”just relax, gus.”

with his nod of consent, you finally began the task of losing the fastenings of his issued pants and drawing out his cock. the earthy musk was already comforting as your nose brushed against the darker skin. fisting your own hands at your sides, you fed yourself the length of him with the ease his flaccid state permitted. this wasn’t meant to be a blow job but a similar ode to your oral fixation. 

above, gustave groaned softly as you rolled the flat of your tongue against the underside to wet it properly so that it wouldn't stick uncomfortably to the sides of your mouth. you continued to mouth sloppily until a collection drool threatened to seep from the corners. 

likely combined with the hazard of doing this while at work, it only took a few kitten licks to transition him to a half hard state. but you planned for this to last in the long run and not make it uncomfortable for either party. so while you still had the ability to, you swallowed him down until the tip nudged your throat. settling into a near meditative state to even out your breathing came almost second nature to you now as you leaned into his thigh. 

unable to truly unwind without assurance, gustave checked in once more. “are you sure you’re alright?”

your eyes crinkled as you hummed, giving him more than what was asked. 

this was what you wanted. a world lost behind the heavy weight of your lover filling you and stretching your mouth wide. this close and intimate it made it difficult to think about anything other than the scent and heat of his person. occasionally the scratch of pen or rustle of paper would rouse you out of your pensive state but before alertness could trickle in, his fingers would curl into your hair and scratch at your scalp. 

time escaped you without effort as the two of you relaxed. past worries melted away, gustave began to derive a thrilling enjoyment from the leisure of your warm embrace without the usual vigorous movements. it surprised him how less strenuous it was for him to read through file after file. by this point, he would have been near ready to nurse a migraine but within this sort of proximity he found himself working through most of his workload without the strain. you provided to be a welcomed distraction, just active enough with an sporadic undulation of your tongue or languid swallow to pull him from the depths of his thoughts. he felt as though he could survive the entirety of his day like this. 

of course, that all shattered at the echoing knock against his door. startled, gustave all but tried to shove you off but by the time you drowsily submerged from the depths of your mind, the door was already opening. the perpetrator had taken gustave’s quiet hiss as permission to entrance and you silently thanked the person who decorated his office for choosing a well enclosed desk. as long as you remained soundless, your presence would remain unnoticed. 

unable to roll back and stand, gustave's only option was to tuck his chair towards the desk. a thoughtless act that forced his cock further down your oriface. squeezing your eyes shut, you fought the urge to choke and tried to tug back the strings of tranquility. 

overhead, you were pleased to know you had been interrupted by one of the office staff and not a fellow operator. a civilian with enough clearances to handle sensitive documents was nothing compared to a vigilant agent. 

“dr. kateb, i just need your signature for the next supply order.”

the hand not curled in your tresses, apparently waved attendant forward based on the incoming steps. his voice was pitched deep, heavy under the influence of lust as he did the best to interact without alluding to the inappropriate actions being conducted. 

“thank you, sir. is there anything else i can help you with? some tea or coffee perhaps?”

the strength of his grip began to tease the threads of pain and you wondered what his face looked like now. certainly not too frightening if the person had enough gall to continue to ask questions. turning your head the best you could, you burred your nose into his apex and let out a quiet hiss.

not completely unheard, as gustave caught on and loosened his hold. “no, that’s all. i'm about finished up now. thank you.”

the second the door closed, gustave was rolling back eyes widen with thinly veiled panic. you really shouldn’t have found the sight so humorous on a man who’d faced worse in battle. 

“i can’t continue with this,” he shrilled under his breath. you figured as much given his solemnity, but that didn't speak for the desire still glossing over his gaze. it wouldn’t be fair to put all your work to waste. 

you agreed yet your hand still came up to stoke at him. he was nothing like his past disposition, now hard and leaking considerably. you couldn’t just leave him so vulnerable after he’d been so considerate to your needs. you got what you wanted, now it was only fair to return the same courtesy. 

you gave the head a quick lick in concede. “sure, just let me-”

you didn't offer a window for complaint, already rolling into a shallow bob. it didn't take much to encourage him to start thrusting in turn, the way your hands cupped the backs of his knees gave more than enough instruction. the salvia you meant to utilize in your favor, spilled messily out of your mouth as gustave pressed forward again and again. it truly was the best approach as the aged gentleman came shortly after, timing it almost perfectly to when his cock reached the deepest, cum shooting straight down your throat without needing to swallow. 

what you assumed was his elbows, hit the desk above your head as he sagged into his seat. you cleaned what you could of the softened cock before yielding. you scuttled from underneath the desk, one hand wiping the excess mess from your face.

breathing heavily, you leaned back against the desk and gave him a cum stained smile. “see, told you it would be worth it.”

gustave was certain that you had managed to pin yet another nail in his coffin.

[moondustaeil]

interlude _ lee taeyong

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ⋅ interlude

⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ about  

⋅  genre : mafia + soulmate au 

⋅  characters : taeyong x fem!reader

⋅  word count : 2.7k 

⋅  note : you can leave feedback (even if it sucks) and send in ideas! ⠀

⠀ summary

⋅ One more step until you meet your soulmate, zero steps and there’s a gun aiming at you. 

A long day of work had finally ended for you, luckily the late shift meant that it wasn’t busy anymore, but it did mean coming home more tired than on other days. Today you had no other choice but working late, seeing the co-workers all had home duties such as their own families or events they had to go to. You were kind enough to say yes when they had asked you to work a late shift and afterward clean up a bit as well. You had done as you had been asked, even though you had wished to be home with each hour of the day that had been passed.

The way home was calm and slightly uncomfortable, the streets being so empty was something you could never get used to, especially not with the recent big circumstances in the city. And the darkness made a horror movie scenario seem more likely than you had hoped. Your steps were fast, something that would make you seem suspicious if other people were around, but you were just in a hurry. You wanted to get home as fast as possible.

Once you were inside the apartment building, you made your way to the place that you called home. You got the key out of your bag only to find that you had somehow left your door unlocked, you didn’t know how you managed to forget that, but blamed it on the tiredness that you had been feeling even before your shift had started. After a second of hesitating to go on, you decided you had no other option than to go in.

“I’m home” You announced to no one in particular as you got into the small hallway: leaving your shoes and jacket behind in their place there before you walked further into the place that you were renting. The lights were off, making it dark aside from the street lights that shone a bit of light through your window. Without turning on the lights, you made your way towards the windows to close the curtains, as you wanted that bit of privacy at this late hour of the night.

Once it was pitch black inside, you realized your stupid mistake and roamed your hand around in your bag until you had found your phone. And rather than turning on its flashlight, you let the lockscreen provide you with the slightest bit of light to get you through the nearest light switch. Your heart was beating fast as you went through the dark, even if you were in your own house right now. Your hand reached out once the light of the phone brought the light switch against the wall in sight, the little sound the light switch made came synchronously with the light in the middle of the living room. 

Your eyes scanned the familiar surroundings as if they weren’t so familiar after all, but seeing everything left the way it had been before, made a sigh of relief push itself past your lip. These days it wasn’t easy to live here: a lot of criminalities happened and it wouldn’t be new that the mafia hid for the police in the nearest house they could break in to. Luckily, that was something you didn’t have experience with, yet it was something that brought a spark of fear each time you came home. 

The silence of the place was broken when you turned on the tv and afterwards guide your bare feet towards the fridge to get yourself some water before you would go to bed. A voice was heard through the living room, making you hear what once again was the local news: the same local news each day, with once again the subject of the infamous NCT mafia. Your ears didn’t want to hear it and yet you were fast to sit on your sofa to listen and watch at the same time.  “According to international sources, the mafia group NCT has spread out to countries as far as China and are planning to grow even larger.” The host spoke as some undercover pictures of the mafia group seemed to appear on the screen: how could they even get away unnoticed when some of them had the weirdest hair colors? 

The host went on to the next subject of the news that you were no longer interested in, making you switch through the channels. But at midnight not much was on television anymore: aside from programs that weren’t made for the eyes of innocent children. After swapping back and forth between some channels, you turned off the tv and got up, leaving your bottle of water on the coffee table as you headed towards your bathroom to wash up a bit.

The house seemed quieter without the television but you did your nightly routine without focusing on the eery feeling you had in your own home. Your clothes were exchanged for your nightwear and your face was ready to hydrate and rest for the night without feeling the air from the outside blow upon it. A look in the mirror revealed how tired you were after today, but it wasn’t as if anyone would ever notice or speak up about the eyebags that rested underneath your eyes. 

Your feet took themselves to your bathroom after you had cleaned up the slight mess you made in there. The lights again had turned off but you were quick enough to turn the one in your bedroom on so that it wouldn’t be pitch black for the second time that night. “Let’s sleep” you mumbled to yourself as you made sure the curtains in your room were closed and that your phone was really charging itself on your nightstand. Without noticing anything else in the room: you laid down in your bed and pulled the little string that hung against the wall, turning off the light which automatically left your eyes to close themselves. 

Falling asleep took a little while as your mind was still occupied with the busy day you had today, and wondering if tomorrow would be the same kind of busy day as well. Thoughts didn’t seem to leave, not even when you tried to imagine the vocals in your favourite song, and not even when all you tried to think of was falling asleep. Maybe it was too warm in bed, which caused you to rest your legs upon the blankets instead of underneath them. Maybe you had been staying up too late which caused you to be so tired that you just weren’t able to sleep at all. 

Your thoughts never seemed to stop wandering and it seemed to last hours, even if you knew probably only half an hour had passed in reality, but you were too stubborn to check the time on your phone. Slumber eventually started to take over your body, although it was as if you were still conscious of the non-existent surroundings. At least, that’s what you thought. 

A few sounds were heard in the bedroom but sleep managed to lie to you and say that it was just nothing at all. Your closed eyes didn’t see the other presence in the room, neither did your body feel it. The room slowly filled itself with the scent of chloroform as the person that had crawled from underneath the bed, applied a generous amount of the liquid onto a rag he had found in your home. 

“Sorry doll, had to hide in here so I gotta take you now” The voice spoke as the rag was pressed against your nose and mouth to make sure that you were completely gone within minutes. Because of your sleep: you hadn’t noticed anything, not even your own coughs or the horrid smell of the chloroform woke you up. Something that made it only easier for Ten: the guy that brought you under an even deeper sleep. 

After a few minutes, Ten was sure that you were completely away from the world and called out for Winwin who immediately came from your closet. The two them carried you out of your own apartment and into the basement, where Winwin had found access to a car of one of the other inhabitants of the building. “Put her in the backseat” Ten said and soon enough you were laid on the backseat by the two mafia members. After both of the guys got in the front of the car, they drove away and back to their hideout. You would probably never return to this place, but that was something they didn’t care about.

During the entire drive, your eyes stayed closed and you were still asleep, probably caused by the heavy doses of chloroform that had spread itself through your nose. The laughter of the two guys in the front of the car was unheard, the silence after their leader Taeyong had called was eery but not to you. You were out for the rest of the short night.

Just like they would in the morning, your eyes opened themselves just slightly. Although instead of waking up onto your soft mattress, you woke up on something that felt like the cold hard floor. And once your eyes had adjusted to the light, you saw that your senses were right about the floor part. 

“Fuck” you cursed softly to yourself as your head felt odd right as you were able to realize it, you felt as if you were on another planet and yet able to realize that you were on the cold floor. You didn’t remember drinking last night, neither did you sleep in the garage of the building.

Your body slowly moved to set itself up more straight so that your eyes had a broader view of where you really were. It was cold here which was something you realized when you saw your short-clad thighs and the rest of your bare legs. Only after that, your eyes scanned the rest of the room; which really wasn’t even close to what they could call a room. It was just a floor with four walls built around it: simple brights and no windows around you at all, only a door to break the endless wall of brights. 

Another thing that you realized was that you were alone in the room, no one else that accompanied you here, but most importantly was what you were here for and how you got to this place. Even though your limbs were still and cold, you managed to stand up on your bare feet and head towards the door first. 

The door was locked and you could hear no noises from outside the door, it was as if you were alone on this world and no one was alive to save you. A scream for help left your lips and even though your scream was loud, it felt as if you went unheard by everyone. Defeated, you slumped against the roughly-textured wall, the place where you waited and waited.

What felt like two eternities later, the door opened up again. Instincts made you get up without realizing it as you pushed yourself past the person that stood in front of it. You were quicker than you had expected to be, which probably was because your body reacted when your mind couldn’t. As you ran past the person, you heard something that sounded like metal collide with the floor. But it didn’t stop you. Neither did the unfamiliar way around the place stop you.

You ran as fast as you could, taking the steps that went upstairs as fast as possible but you still had to be careful so that you didn’t stumble over the steps. The presence behind you was quicker than you were, but each time you had a little joint of energy that kept you a step in front of him. The door at the top of the stairs had luckily still been open, which allowed you to run into an even more unexpected place. It looked like an abandoned place made into something better, yet you had no idea of what it really looked like because you were too occupied.

The last bit of energy that your body provided allowed you to run whatever way, near the end of the energy rush it combined with your mind to find a small hiding spot in the middle of the place. Your breathing stilled even though you were sure it was still heard after running up the stairs and away from the guy behind you, but at least your body was out of sight for a little bit. 

“Do you know what NCT stands for? It’s New Culture Technology” 

The voice was loud through the almost poorly-decorated place but the words ran even louder through your mind as you heard the words. The footsteps came closer to you and soon another pair of footsteps did the same, surrounding you in without them realizing. The voice still sounded so young and yet you immediately knew where you ended up.

“It’s Neo Culture Technology”

The other voice rang in your ears a second after, the tone sounding as if the person was smiling just a tad but judging the other guy. Some laughter from the two of them and other guys filling the emptiness in the room. You tried to keep yourself quiet through their small, joking talk: because even if they were joking, joking time would be over when they saw you.

The laughing was over when you heard the same gasping as you did once you ran from the basement of the place. “She’s gone. She escaped” The voice said hurriedly but kept it shushed for some reason, probably because he assumed that you were somewhere in this room. The words seemed to cause everyone to start pacing around, looking behind every single object that they occupied in the abandoned place.

As they were too busy looking in particular places, you had the chance to silently slip back towards the place you came from. No one was able to catch you as you practically crawled back towards the basement. And even when you silently put the door against the lock: they just guessed it was another member of their gang coming into the room to help them look for you. The footsteps surrounded everything, but each time you heard them coming into the direction of where you were, they disappeared just as soon once again.

After a couple of minutes, it seemed completely quiet. You rested your head against the door to check if you really didn’t hear any more footsteps or talking in the abandoned place. You counted in silence, gathering your courage before you opened the door.

Your eyes cautiously wandered around to see if you were correct about no one being here anymore, and a sigh of relief left your lips once you realized that you were right. A hand went to your face and rubbed through your eyes as you just needed some extra courage to just run and get out of this place as fast as possible. The timer on your wrist came to sight which revealed that you were only five steps away from your soulmate. A romantic cheesy plot about it being your savior filled your mind and your mind was stupid to believe in such a little untrue fairytale at that moment. 

The eyes never left your timer as you took slow steps and watched the digit change with each step that you took. You had forgotten about being captured by the most well-known mafia these days, you had forgotten about walking around in their hideout spot, and you had forgotten about the fact that you were trying to escape. Once the timer claimed that it was one more step, you felt joy running through your body, because you finally were going to meet the one you were destined to be with forever.

Your feet shuffled as you took the last step towards your soulmate, suddenly feeling something cold straight against your forehead. You had expected to bump into something, but rather than that, when you looked up, you saw the leader standing in front of you, his gun pressed against your forehead. Taeyong’s eyes were intense, a devilish smile on his lips. 

His eyes went towards his own counter for a second, making the smile widen once he had looked back at you. You belonged to him now, and you always would. 

“that was your last step, darling.”

[hallowxiu]

Love, Late Nights, & Black Coffee

Pairing: Julian x gn!mc

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Fluff

Summary:  Julian admits his feelings for you over a cup of black coffee.

There’s silence in the air as you drum your fingers along the surface of the counter. Your eyes are heavy with sleep as you drowsily stare ahead. It was a quarter past four in the morning in Vesuiva and you were currently watching the plague doctor anxiously pace around the front of yours and Asra’s shop. “Julian,” you muffle a yawn as you speak, “what’s wrong? It’s four in the morning.” He stops pacing momentarily and casts a glance in your direction before returning to his original pace. A sigh forces its way past your lips and you push yourself away from the counter and towards the distraught man.

“What is with you tonight, huh?” Although you want to be annoyed with the man, you still feel a smile grace your lips as you step in front of him, effectively cutting off his pace. “Who shows up at four in the morning, banging on the door and demanding they be brought inside, only to then go completely mute and pace around like a lunatic.” You take his hands in yours, only to then notice that they were trembling. Your curiosity is piqued at this and your eyebrow quirks upwards. “What’s going on? You’re actually like you actually killed someone this time.” You pause if ever so briefly, “You didn’t, right?”

Julian looks appalled at this and pulls his hands from your grip. “I-- why you don’t actually think I’m capable of something like that, do you?” He takes a moment to ponder it before a sly grin forms on his lips. “Well, I guess you could say I’m strong enough to, and possibly charming enough to trick someone into a trap. I guess it’s not a complete reach, but--”

“Okay, you definitely didn’t kill someone.” The sly look on his face falls and you have to stop yourself from laughing. “Now, now, don’t get so dejected over it.” You gently take his hands in yours again and pull him towards the small kitchen. “What’s got you so worked up? Are you lonely again? Nightmares?” It was nights like these that you were glad Asra was out of town so he wouldn’t be forced to stay up all night too. That and you doubted that Asra would be as kind to Julian in this scenario as you.

“Can’t a guy just come to visit?” His smile is weak and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Still, you know better than to pry if your relationship with Asra was anything to go off. At four in the morning, you wish to say, but keep it to yourself.

“You must be tired though. Your sleeping schedule continues to baffle me. How are you alive?” You sit him on a stool at the counter. “I’ll fix you up some coffee.” You weren’t sure if drinking coffee this early would be a good idea for anyone involved, but you were both already awake and it was unlikely that you’d both be going back to bed any time soon.

Silence stretches over the two of you as you silently get started on his coffee. You don’t want to intrude, so you wait for him to pick up the conversation and go with it where he pleases. If you were being honest, you could listen to Julian talk forever. He always had something interesting to say and even if you had no idea what he was going on about (which was something that happened often), you had no problems getting lost in his voice. It was a little unnerving, the effect he had over you. “I actually… I wanted to speak with you. I missed your voice.” Your eyebrow raises once again from his words. You can feel your heartbeat starting to pick up and you force yourself to stay quiet. Was he finally going to confess his feelings to you?

For the longest time, you and Julian had an unspoken thing between each other. Most of your time together was filled with flirting and fleeting touches, both being too shy to do anything more. You knew he liked you as much as you liked him, but you always thought that Julian needed to be the one to make the first official move. It just seemed right, and you didn’t want to impose yourself on him. He did this a lot though, begging to speak with you and act as if he’d confess before completely losing confidence and changing the subject of conversation all together. You were patient though, and you were more than willing to give Julian all the time he needs.

You keep your eyes trained on the coffee in front of you, trying to make it seem that his words weren’t getting to you. Oh, if only he knew. “I couldn’t sleep. I tried to, but I just wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to be in the same room as you. Everything’s always better when you’re by my side.” Julian’s voice is just above a whisper as he speaks, but the words don’t go unheard. You can hear them crystal clear, almost as if he were shouting them. There’s a ghost of a smile on your lips as you try to keep yourself from getting too hopeful. Even if he didn’t end up confessing, his words are true and they mean a lot to you. “Why do you think that is?”

“Hmm?” You turn around with two mugs of black coffee, your eyes landing on him curiously. “Why do I think what is?” You place a mug of steaming coffee in front of him before turning back around so you could add milk and sugar to your own. “Why do I think you enjoy my company?” He goes quiet again after your question and you don’t need to look to know there’s a deep blush on his cheeks. “I think you already know the answer to that if you’re asking me.” There’s a blush on your cheeks as well, but Julian doesn’t need to know that.

Once you’re content with the amount of sugar and milk in your coffee, you take the empty seat next to Julian. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him staring at you and you find yourself holding back a giggle. He’s flustered and immediately looks away when finding that he’s caught. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” You raise the mug to your lips, blowing gently to cool down the drink. “About us.” You nearly spill the coffee. The last time he said something similar to that, he had dragged you around the village all day in attempts to break up with you, if you could even call it that. Your slip up doesn’t go unnoticed by Julian, who instead laughs in response. “Relax, I’m not going to jump you. I just mean…” He takes in a deep breath before the words tumble out of his mouth. “IthinkIloveyou?” It sounded more like a question than a statement, but even with how fast the words came spilling out you knew what he had said. Still, that didn’t stop you from wanting to hear him say it again.

“I’m sorry, what?” You play coy, turning to the side so that you were completely facing Julian. “I don’t think I heard you right.” Your heart was swelling up as Julian looked everywhere but at you. He was completely red in the face now, sweat on his brow as he tried to rephrase his confession.

“I said that IthinkImayloveyou.” His face is somehow a darker shade of red now and you decide to end the poor man’s suffering. However, before you can intervene he speaks up again. “No, no. That’s not what I wanted to say.” His hands are clenched into fists as he murmurs a few words of encouragement to himself under his breath. “Iaminlovewithyou.” His eye is nearly twitching at his own incapability to confess his feelings aloud. “I SAID I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU.” You weren’t surprised that he tripped and fell over his confession, but you hadn’t expected him to shout it. It was cute though.

You both sit in complete silence, Julian opening his mouth to say something every few seconds only to close it when he decides not to make the situation any worse. You blink a few times before a lopsided grin forms over your lips. “I know.” You finally break the silence and Julian nearly topples off the stool. “You had me waiting forever for that confession. I knew you’d be a blushing mess but I didn’t think you’d scream it. That was a cute surprise.” He watches you with wide eyes before quickly masking his expression with that of confidence. “Oh, and I love you too.”

“Well-- well I mean, of course, wait-- what?”

“Did you really question if I felt the same? After everything we’ve been through?” You laugh under your breath before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re silly, but I expected nothing less.”

“You love me?” He sounds completely floored, as if he didn’t expect it. His eyes are wide as he stares at you, searching your face as if you’d suddenly confess that you had been joking. Neither of you thought you were that cruel, but Julian did have a tendency of overthinking things.

“You really think I’d let you wake me up at four in the morning if I didn’t?” Julian blinks several times as he leans forward on the counter, the widest smile on his lips.

“Touché.”

[ayatosmlktea]

hey! this is gonna be a bit angsty but could you do a little thing where the reader is from the underground, and like levi, she was taken away but she left behind this little kid she was taking care of and levi and whoever else has to escort her and she finds the little kid dead and she breaks down and blames herself, and neither of them have ever seen her like this and levi asks the other person to get out and they have like an intimate moment? sorry if this is stupid haha, i love your writing!

TW: Child Death 

𝑨𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 

Y/N had watched as Levi had evaded the scouts with ease, she had high hopes that he wouldn’t be caught. He probably wouldn’t have if she hadn’t got in the way, it had been a stupid miscalculation on her part. She was usually good at keeping her cool under intense pressure which was the main reason Levi had allowed her to tag along with his group. 

Their bodies collided together painfully, his knee connecting with her stomach knocking the air out of her lungs. Her reflexes were good but nowhere as fast as Levi’s and the weight of her body falling on top of his prevented him from being able to make a getaway. The grimy taste of dirt filled her mouth as they both hit the ground, the residual force of their odm gear sent them hurtling across the dirty floor of an alley. Y/N was covered in dirt and her clothes were wet with a substance she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the origin of. Two swords were held inches from their faces before they could scramble to their feet and make an escape. Levi sighed heavily underneath her and she couldn’t help but feel guilty that their capture had been her fault.

Needless to say, Y/N had been shocked when Levi had agreed to join the scouts. She couldn’t judge his choice, a free ticket to the surface was something they’d been working for. Isabel and Farlan would no doubt be excited to see a world outside of their bleak upbringing but there was one thought weighing heavily on her mind. The heavy hand nudging against her shoulder blade urging her forward made her well aware that trying to escape last minute was out of the question.

In all honesty it was probably what had distracted her from keeping up with Levi’s maneuvering before. Y/N hadn’t seen Danny in a few days and the voice at the back of her head that he was in some kind of danger was eating away at her conscience. She had been looking for him all day through dimly lit streets with no sign of the blond boy. Levi had insisted he go with her, he knew she had been taking care of him long before she had joined their group. 

She never told anyone the details of how they had met, Y/N preferred keeping her personal life as private as possible especially where Danny was concerned. The less people who knew about him the better, but their capture provided a way for Y/N to get him to the surface if Erwin allowed it. It was a lot to ask of someone who had been intent on killing Levi mere moments ago but she knew without her Danny wouldn’t survive on his own. He wasn’t like them, the primitive drive for survival that had been embedded into Levi and Y/N was not in his nature. Her face remained impassive as they were led through the streets of the underground for the last time.

“Excuse me Erwin, there’s someone I’m...taking care of. They won’t get by without me, would it be possible to bring them too?” She blurted out, the lump of anxiety pressed against her ribcage making each breath burn in her chest. The uncertainty in her voice was unlike her typically calm and aloof persona, it had Levi casting a side glance her way. He knew who she was referring to, but he also knew that she was asking for a lot. The fact that they were bringing not one, but four people to the surface was unheard of.

“I’m afraid not. You four are a special case, I’m sorry.” Hanging her head in defeat she gives a curt nod. Y/N knew the chances of Erwin agreeing to let her bring Danny with them were slim to none but if she didn’t at least try and ask she would’ve beat herself up over it.

Not that she didn’t think about him everyday, Danny was her motivation to become stronger, faster. Better able to protect the people she cared about, she was not going to repeat the same mistake that had gotten them caught in the first place. It had been a couple of months since they’d joined the scouts...merely a few weeks since they’d lost Isabel and Farlan. Y/N needed something to distract her from the empty void in her heart, it crept up on her in the dead of night preventing her from getting any sleep. Levi was also taking it hard, shouldering the responsibility for their deaths alone despite her numerous attempts at telling him that it wasn’t his fault. 

Levi was shutting her out and the loneliness combined with her constant guilt over abandoning Danny was slowly breaking her. Erwin becoming commander gave her the chance she’d been patiently waiting for. Y/N was not one to shy away from authority, growing up in the underground had given her thick skin. It was late, insomnia was getting the best of her and instead of moping around in bed she decided to ask Erwin for a long overdue favour. The dim light under his door let her know that he was still awake. Y/N wasn’t surprised to find Levi in Erwin’s office, the pair had become closer since Levi had given up his mission of killing the newly appointed commander.

“Sir I’d like to request permission to go to the underground. Tomorrow.” Y/N steeled her nerves, fully prepared to be shut down but unwilling to give up so easily this time. Levi’s eyes widened the tiniest bit, surprised that she was still holding onto wanting to go back for the brat. Erwin said nothing for a while, the two of them in a silent stare down. Her efforts to push herself past her limits in training hadn’t gone unnoticed by Erwin. He figured that it was only a matter of time before coming to him with the same request that she had boldly asked of him.

“I have enough money to bring him up, he’ll live with me until I can find a suitable place for him to live. I don’t need anyone to escort me, all I’m asking for is your permission.” Erwin’s brow cocked at her plan. She’d clearly been thinking about this for a while. Levi had tried convincing Erwin after they had been brought to HQ, but it wasn’t in his  authority to bring up other citizens for free, even if they were young.

“Fine, but you will be escorted. Nothing personal, just standard procedure.” Y/N felt relief rush through her system, finally months of saving up would finally pay off. While she wasn’t thrilled about having to be escorted she would take it, not wanting to ruin a good thing. She only hoped that Danny would be able to forgive her for leaving him behind.

“Thank you sir!” Saluting him and turning on her heel she missed the way Levi’s eyes followed her across the room.

“I’m going with her” Levi stated once the door to Erwin’s office had been shut.

“I know”

♡    ♡    ♡ 

Y/N found herself unable to sleep, tossing and turning the entire night excited and yet dreading seeing Danny again. He’d barely been six years old when they had been separated and she could only pray that he had found a decent person to take him in. Despite barely getting a wink of sleep, Y/N was bouncing with nervous energy, although she wouldn’t show it on the outside.

“What are you doing?” She asked dryly, not entirely thrilled to deal with Levi’s colder than usual attitude.

“Erwin’s orders” He replied in an equally dry tone. He hadn’t meant to shut her out, it just happened to be easier than processing his own emotions and coming to the realization that he was relieved and grateful she was still with him. Levi knew that he couldn’t let her go back to the underground on her own, there were too many things that could go wrong. He didn’t want to deal with his feelings for her, call it what you would but Levi wouldn’t be able to survive losing Y/N. Especially after becoming romantically attached to her. 

Her leg bounced anxiously the duration of the ride, Levi knew he should have probably said something to help ease the anxiety she felt but the words in his head weren’t coming out right. So Levi settled to staring out of the carriage window trying to suppress the heavy lump of dread that had made itself at home in his stomach.

Levi’s nose crinkled in disgust at the familiar smell of the underground. Nothing had changed since they had left, their scouts uniform caught the attention of several onlookers. Y/N’s face remained void of emotion but Levi could see something change in her eyes. They held hope and anxiety.

 The escorts Erwin had sent with them followed Levi and Y/N closely as they weaved their way through familiar streets. Y/N and Levi had gotten the escorts to agree to letting them split up in order to cover more ground with one guard following each of them. Y/N was beginning to grow worried, she had checked all of Danny’s standard hiding places with no luck. There was one last place that she was going to check, she had hoped that he was smart enough to use their old house as a hideout until someone was able to take him in.

Walking along the street that led to their abandoned house filled Y/N with a sense of nostalgia she didn’t want. Holding her breath, her heart was pounding in her ears as she stepped inside the dimly lit building. Y/N wasn’t surprised to find their house completely ransacked. She resisted the urge to run her fingertips over dust coated countertops, knowing full well the lecture Levi was going to give her about germs was sure to follow.

Anxiety and fear were rapidly building up in her gut as she pushed open the door to her bedroom, heart jumping into her throat at the sight before her. Y/N wasn’t sure how to react, her feet moved on their own accord towards the small body lying in her bed. Ripped up shreds of paper scattered around Danny’s body.

“No no no this isn’t happening” she whispered, hot tears pricked at her eyes blurring her vision.

“Danny? It’s me...I came back” her voice came out strained against the lump in her throat. Y/N tried to bite back her sobs but it was futile, covering her mouth with one hand she used the other to pick up the pieces of paper. They were all scribbled with messages. Hungry, cold, sad, sleepy. The guilt that tore through her body was unbearable as she sank to her knees unleashing an inhumane cry of grief. Levi’s footsteps came bounding into the bedroom, grimacing at his gut feeling becoming a reality.

The soldiers stared on in a mixture of horror and stupor, Y/N had never been so emotional before. Not even Levi had seen her shed a single tear until now.

“Get out, I’ll handle this” The two escorts glanced at each other before nodding, the pained cries coming from Y/N were too much for them to handle.

“It’s my fault! It’s all my fault!” Y/N sobbed into her hands which were now covering her face. Levi’s heart ached for her and Danny. Approaching her cautiously, he knelt down on the ground next to her and pulled her into his chest without hesitation. Her hands gripped the material of his jacket burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s not your fault.” Levi let her cry against him, his hands rubbing comforting circles on her back until she eventually passed out from exhaustion. He knew it was going to be a long time before Y/N recovered from this.

[peantutbutter]

⭐ For the prompt thing? (Idk if that's how this works)

🌟 : A secret wish headcanon

The Fakes are a team of dreamers. Of achievers. They’re a team with unbridled ambition. What the Fakes want, they get. If it isn’t given to them, they take it and don’t look back. Guns. Cars. Money. Power. They want it all.

But they all have things they secretly wish for. 

For Gavin, it’s to be himself. Not the Golden Boy. Not the Hacker. Just Gavin. Gavin Free. His entire life has been spent pretending to be someone else. The prefect son for his parents. A proper English gentleman for everyone else back home. It was the worst. He hated it. But it’s what he was good at. His ability to change masks on a dime made him a skilled conman, and when he came to America, it was amazing just how many people trusted him just because he was well spoken and had an accent. He’s had so many names, been so many people, but none of them were ever really, truly him. He’s tired of the acting. The facades. He’s tired of hiding who he is. Problem is, though, he’s spent so much time as other people, he’s left with one, baffling question. Who am I?

For Michael, it’s responsibility. He was always the baby of the family back East. His brothers were entrusted with the family’s dealings. Running the various cover businesses, the gambling rackets, getting a seat at the various meeting tables, all those opportunities passed Michael by in favor of presenting themselves to his brothers. His wild and reckless behavior, the same behavior that got him booted from New Jersey, was all an attempt to prove himself. Prove that he could take matters into his own hands and deal with them on his own. But his parents never listened. They just got angry, and when they weren’t angry, they were disappointed. He wasn’t good enough for them, but he’ll be damned if he can’t be good enough for Geoff. The heists he’s planned were successful. He’s always the one picking up slack, and the best driver after Jack. Geoff trusts him more than his parents ever did, but there’s always that nagging feeling in the back of his head. What if I’m still not enough?

For Jeremy, it’s (not-so-secretly) to be heard. To be seen. Everyone jokes about how he dresses and the way he paints his vehicles. About how the oranges and purples are horrendously garish and they stick out like a sore thumb. Piss poor as escape vehicles, but damn good at causing a distraction. But he’s spent far too much of his life overlooked and ignored. Neglected and abused as a child, he carved what little space there was for him in the shadows. Passing unseen was better than getting beaten. He became a thief, proficient at getting in and out of spaces quickly and unnoticed. But he was always a tool for someone else to use. A means to an end. Never acknowledged as a living, breathing person. But Geoff was different. He asked Jeremy’s opinion on things. Worried when things seemed too dangerous. For so long, Jeremy’s voice was silenced, gone unheard. Things are different now. Look at me! he says. I am here! This is my voice! I am a person!

For Jack, it’s to learn. To go back to school and finally get the degree she was unable to achieve in her early twenties. It’s not that she doesn’t think the crew would approve. Quite the opposite actually. She knows they’d encourage her to pursue her dreams. And it’s not like they don’t have the money for tuition, and online classes make remote learning easier than ever. Online degrees are common nowadays. But that would take her attention away from the crew. She’s under no illusion that completing her degree would be easy. For as good as she is at managing her time, the sudden emergencies that are the nature of her job just don’t lend themselves to free time. She’s careful not to mention wanting to go back to school. She knows they’d want her to do it. They love her and want what’s best for her. But she loves them just as much and also wants what’s best for them. And that means being there for them whenever she can. Sometimes family requires sacrifice, she reasons. What if something went wrong? she worries. What if something happens and I’m not there to save them?

And for Geoff, it’s to retire. When he says the only way out of the Fakes is in a body bag, he includes himself. From poor man, honorably discharged from the military to Kingpin of Los Santos, he built his empire from the ground up. An empire he cried tears and spilled blood for. An empire that cost him almost everything he held dear. He’s in too deep now. He has to hold on what he’s earned, because the second he shows some kind of hesitance, some kind of weakness, the vultures of the city will swoop in and pick him and his crew apart. But that doesn’t stop him from daydreaming. He watches the Travel Channel and imagines what it’s like to live somewhere in the Italian countryside. To spend his days tending to a garden, sipping coffee, and not having to worry about the target on his back. To die of old age, in peace, rather than the flurry of bullets he’s sure is going to be his untimely end. There’s too much at stake where he is. Too many people count on him. He can’t just disappear and let them down. The crew needs a leader, he thinks to himself. Who would take care of them if I were gone?

[ethereaiin]

Comfort | Boku no Hero Academia

synopsis; as the wife of the number one hero in Japan, you realized how much he was relied upon and how tiring it could be. even if all of Japan rested atop his shoulders, you wished he knew that he'd always have you to depend on.

features; you and midoriya izuku.

[au]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

       Exhaustion weighed heavily on him, to the point that it looked as if he struggled to stay awake whilst standing. From her seat on the train below his towering figure, she could see his green eyes drooping and occasionally sliding shut before fluttering back open with every shake of the train.

       It was clear from his fatigue alone that he once again spent the night at his desk rather than sleeping like he promised. The phone call they shared the night before, one that she was used to getting nowadays, was one filled with assurances from himself of his well being and her worrying about him overworking. The only way he could quell her concerns was with the promise of actually getting a full eight hours of rest even if it wasn't at home with her. But from one look at his swaying figure and dazed countenance, she could safely assume he didn't keep his promise.

       The midnight train they rode on was one she rarely ever found herself on. The emptiness of the train car paired with the eerie silence was one of the few things that kept her from ever traveling to his agency at the dead of night, but tonight was an obvious exception. For the past week, she's been swallowing down her concerns with his health in hopes that he'd come to the realization of its importance himself. She knew how essential his work was to him and like his predecessor, he valued the safety of society that was placed on his shoulders the moment he was declared the number one hero.

       She didn't wish to restrict him in that regard, which is one of the many reasons why she hoped he'd come to appreciate his health more, but now that a week has passed and he seemed to have been getting worse rather than better; she decided it was time to do something more than just voice light concerns.

       The screeching halt of the train was loud enough to jolt her half asleep spouse up. Despite his insistence on standing during the whole train ride in hopes of keeping himself awake, he ended up doing the exact opposite. With an amused smile on her face, she lifted up from the cushioned seat before linking her arm with her husband's and guiding him over towards the train's doors.

       "Have a nice nap?" She asked as they stepped onto the train station's platform.

       He tiredly laughed in response, his scarred hand travelling down the length of her arm until it reached her own hand. He intertwined their fingers, sighing happily at the more intimate contact than the linked arm they shared moments ago. "I've missed you. . ."

       His admission was quiet and if she weren't so close to him as she was now, she was sure she it would have gone completely unheard by her. Peachy lips were quickly pulled into a smile, dazzling [eye color] eyes glancing up at the man next to her who looked back at her with unconditional affection. She missed him as well, that much she wasn't afraid to admit.

       "Miss me enough to skip out on a few days of work?"

       There was a bout of silence that fell between the two, her gaze trailing ahead along the sidewalk in quiet wonder. She could feel his grip on her hand tighten slightly and the feeling of his frequent glances toward her had not gone unnoticed. She could sense his uneasiness with the subject, a feeling he often experienced due to his own aversion of confrontation. Although she said it in stride of being light hearted, it ended up holding the slight edge of sincerity within the words which was quickly picked up by her husband.

       "You know I can't. . ." He speaks softly, his thumb rubbing comforting circles onto the skin of her hand as if that would be enough for her to drop the subject completely.

       She knew it was true, yet she couldn't help but wish he'd say something different. She sighed, a puff of white escaping her lips and entering the frigid cold air of the night. She pulled herself closer to the body next to her in hopes of retaining any heat she possessed. Her free hand was gloved but against the bitter element, she felt as if it weren't enough.

       "You've been overworking yourself. . . again." She stated matter-of-factly, [eye color] eyes glancing in his direction to scope his reaction. "You need a break. You deserve one."

       He hadn't said anything, only continuing to guide the both of them on the familiar route home and occasionally glancing around for potential danger. She knew his silence meant one of two things. He either wholeheartedly agreed with her, but couldn't find it in himself to admit it; or he simply didn't think what she was saying was correct.

       He, like his predecessor, held such a strong sense of heroism that they couldn't ever find it justifiable to put a halt into their work. Even if that meant neglecting their own health and wellbeing. Every single hour of everyday, there was someone somewhere in Japan who needed saving and Izuku was determined to be there for all of them. To him, a break meant allowing those helpless people succumb to the harm they may be faced with and that would be his failure as a hero.

       It was an impossible feat. She's told him before that he couldn't save them all, but her words only seemed to have placed more drive into proving her wrong.

       The jingling of keys and the sudden departure of the warmth against her side was what drew her attention back into reality. Her eyes was met with the sight of her husband's broadened back. It took her a second to realize the both of them were standing in front of their apartment door and she heaved another sigh at her failed attempt to coax him into taking a break from work. Despite being the more outspoken one between the two, she still struggled with getting her point across someone as stubborn as the man before her. He normally relented to anything she suggested, but when it came to his job; he was surprisingly adamant in his decisions.

       It would be endearing if it weren't for the fact that he was unintentionally harming himself from the very same thing he was passionate about.

       "Don't you feel exhausted?" She pressed on as he walked into the apartment with her following shortly behind him. Ears perking at the sharp sound of the door shutting behind them along with the familiar sound of their automated lock clicking into place. Her hand reached towards him once she stood by his side, clutching at the sleeve of his jacket as he moved to take off his shoes.

       Her voice held a soft inflection as her fingers curled tighter around the fabric of his clothes. Her heart dipped with uncertainty, eyes watering at the prospect of him walking away from her in annoyance. She was being persistent, she realized, but she felt as if there was no other way for him to actually listen to her unless she stuck herself to the topic.

       "Of course I do." His own tone of voice matched her gentleness and he peered down at her with concerned green eyes. She refused to meet his gaze, making him aware of how uncomfortable she was with the conversation but her relentless tenacity was purely driven by her worry for him. "We've already talked about this before. . . Taking a break would mean allowing people—"

       "—To get hurt. I know." Her gaze suddenly snapped up to his, [hair color] brows drew into a tight knit as her eyes burned with an unfamiliar ferocity. "But what will the people think when you suddenly fall ill due to your own negligence?" Her grip on him tightened to an uncomfortable degree as a shaky frown overtook her features. The tears which lined the rims of her eyes began to fall and he blinked in surprise at the sudden display of raw emotions. "O-Or worse, what if you die? Who will you save then?"

       He would be lying if he said he never thought of the possibility of dying. It was a risk that came along with being a hero, one that he'd rather not dwell on for the fact that it made him unbelievably anxious. But he no longer had just himself to think of anymore. The woman who clutched onto him with a sense of desperation, was the person who he decided to spend the rest of his life with. If he were to die, he would not only be leaving the people of Japan without a savior, he'd be leaving her.

       Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist as he gently pried his other from her grip in order to cradle her head against his chest. He could feel her body shaking with light sobs and he felt a stab of anger for being the reason his wife was crying. With striking realization he understood how selfish his desires were. While it wasn't his intention to force [name] into submitting to his decisions, he didn't think about the outcome of essentially forcing her to watch as he worked himself to the bone and his denial for her concern must have deeply hurt her.

       "I. . . didn't realize." He admitted, his fingers tangling in tresses of [hair color] as he pressed her against him even tighter. His cheek nuzzled against her hair and when he felt her soft sobs begin to die, he continued his sincere apology. "All you've been doing is worrying about me and I've been pushing you away."

       He slightly pushed her away, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. He tilted her head up towards him, forcing her to look him in the eyes as his thumb idly swiped at the remnants of tears. They acted as reminders of his careless mistake and he resented ever being so dense as to not notice her pain.

       "I'm sorry, [name]. You didn't deserve that."

       Through her sniffles, she smiled. It looked genuinely happy and laced with a tinge of relief that made him wonder just how long she'd been waiting for his acceptance of her suggestion. When he felt her lean into his touch and her delicate fingers wrapping around his wrist, he couldn't help the flush that naturally bloomed across his freckled cheeks. No matter how many years they've been together, he still finds himself caught off guard by her return of his affectionate touch.

       "So, you'll let me help you?" Her brows knit curiously together, [eye color] eyes still shining with unshed tears. She gently pried his hand away from her face, opting to hold it between both of her own slightly chilled hands. "You'll let me take care of you?"

       He nodded in affirmation at both of her questions, green eyes slightly drooping after the excitement of their serious conversation died down. Noticing his dive into sleepiness, she simpered lightly as she dropped his hand from her grasp before reaching up to grab his face. His eyes shot open at the sudden firm contact and he was once again met with that same fierce look she used when she scolded him.

       "That means you're taking a break, right dear?"

       He gulped at the term of endearment. She rarely ever called him by pet names, they were mostly used as a way for her to convey her irritation with him without ever explicitly telling him. He nervously laughed as he gave another nod. "O-Of course!"

       Satisfied with his answer and with herself for finally getting through to him, she applied a tender peck to his lips before pulling herself completely away from him. "Good. I just want you to rely on me more, Izuku. We're in this together, so I don't want you to feel like you have to carry the whole world on your shoulders when you've got me around to help you out."

       He stared at her form, green eyes wide and blinking with astonishment. Her words were sincere and as unbelievably sappy as they were, they didn't fail to make his heart swell with an overwhelming warmth. The sensation was one he found himself familiar with that followed her appearance in his life. He felt it the day she agreed to go out with him, then it was the acceptance of his proposal, and most recently it was their wedding day. It was bubbly, fuzzy and filled him with a unique sense of happiness and content. He could never specifically label the emotion, but if he had to call it something; it must have been the accumulation of his love for her.

       It was so fiery and he felt as if it would consume him whole at any given moment, but he found himself not minding the burn.

       "I know."

       He steps towards her, eyes softening with unspoken passion. She didn't need to hear him say it to know that he loved her, it was evident in the return of her own silent affection that came in the form of loving touches and genuine care. It felt as if the both of them were on the same wavelength, speaking to each other not through words, but actions and gentle looks.

       "Now, are you ready for bed?" She grinned as she held out a [skin tone] hand towards him. He grabbed it a little too eagerly, prompting her to giggle.

       "Very."

[edelwoodsouls]

all roads lead - ch. 6

When his mother dies, Stiles runs away, straight into danger - only to be saved by Peter Hale. Seven years later, after burying their alpha, Stiles and Malia return home.

Word Count: 2,397 | Also on Ao3 | Other Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

Chapter 6: FLINCH

It takes less than an evening for the pieces of Beacon Hills to begin to fall together in Stiles' mind.

The four teenagers kill time until dinner watching television in somewhat awkward silence, passing around a bowl of microwave popcorn. Stiles still can't figure out what they were watching, his senses too overwhelmed by the two unsuspecting werewolves sitting so close on the sofa beside him, the beta leaning into his shoulder, his father shifting back and forth in the kitchen next door.

Dinner is an even more tentative affair. Melissa arrives just as John sets the shepherds pie in the centre of the table. She stinks of hospital cleaning fluids and that distinct floral perfume that hangs around his father's scent, but her smile is just as warm as Stiles remembers, and when she hugs him without hesitation it feels a little too much like memories eight years gone.

Melissa and John are sickeningly good together. They move around, between, with each other in a perfectly synchronised dance. They touch, and laugh, leaning into each other with the effortlessness of certainty.

They're good for each other, and Stiles is surprised to find any lingering bitterness begin to fizzle out inside him.

But whilst John's cooking has, in fact, come on in leaps and bounds since the last meal he gave Stiles - frozen waffles and ketchup - it's not enough to dissipate the thick tension in the air, like the pressure of clouds before lightning.

Scott manages to carry the conversation practically single-handed, with regular interruptions from Malia. He tells them all about sports practice, about the pretty cool new english teacher, about the cute puppy he treated at the animal clinic.

The topics are noticeably inane. More than once, Scott stumbles over a word, glances sharply at Stiles and Malia, quickly changing the subject. Stiles almost pities him. If he didn't know anything about the supernatural, he'd be more than a little suspicious by now.

Stiles stays quiet for the most part, watching this choreography of a normal life that he has never had the chance to witness so closely. Even in a half supernatural family, real life holds dominion. They worry about how to keep their grades up to stay on the lacrosse team. The fact that the local ice rink didn't get enough funding to stay open. The flashy new rich kids with bikes much better than theirs. Random, normal things that completely pass Stiles by.

He wonders how much he missed in New York, holding himself above the rest, writing them off as petty teenagers who knew nothing of the world. Was it just jealousy the whole time? That they could care about the things Stiles had to leave behind?

He cringes away from this realisation- and finds Isaac is staring directly at him.

Where Scott is a waterfall of movement and sound, Isaac is a silent, watchful stone. They balance each other well - Scott's open sunshine, Isaac's caution. He watches the room the way Stiles does: looking for the exits, assessing the threats. Flinching at any movement too sudden, any voice too loud. The clatter of cutlery against plates, a sharp bout of laughter.

He recognises the signs of trauma - no, the signs of abuse - far too well. The mystery of this strange boy his father and old best friend have adopted unfurls a little more.

Stiles meets his eyes, surprised when Isaac doesn't look away. He may behave like a shrinking violet, but Stiles gets the feeling he would do anything for Scott. The way he leans towards his alpha, instinctively, protectively - the same way he leans towards Malia, a gravity built on years of weight. He wonders if this boy filled the vacuum Stiles left when he vanished. If Scott attracts broken, darkened things like moths to flame.

Maybe magic and werewolves are an inevitability in this town, not the result of an ill-wandered youth.

"Are you gonna start coming to school?" Scott asks out of nowhere, and the tension ratchets up a thousand volts, breaking apart the unnoticed staring contest.

"Uh," Stiles starts. Stops. "I'd like to, yeah."

"I'd rather jump off a skyscraper," Malia all but snarls into her mashed potato. "But yes. I guess."

"Awesome," Scott grins. "It'll be great to have new people who're actually nice." Stiles has to stop himself from snorting. Never did he think someone would describe him as nice. "The new twins are dicks. Isaac got detention because of them."

"Detention?" John asks sharply, a father if ever Stiles heard one.

Isaac flinches a mile. Folds even further in on himself, eyes lost in his lap. "It wasn't what it looked like," he says, so softly the words are almost lost in the sudden silence of the kitchen.

"It wasn't his fault!" Scott leaps in vehemently. "The twins riled him up, got him angry, then framed him for beating them up in the halls-"

"Isaac, we're not angry, honey," Melissa says suddenly, yet gently as ever. "We absolutely believe you. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Right, absolutely," John stumbles to follow, face drawn in panic. "Even if you did have detention, it's honestly nothing. What's one detention? Stiles had detention every day for a year when he was nine!"

"In my defence, Miss Clarke really hated you because you arrested her brother for kidnapping," Stiles says. "So really I think I was entirely innocent on that front."

The tension in the room eases, air let from an overblown balloon. Isaac uncurls, slowly, like a sunflower as the dawn breaks over the horizon. Scott's hand rests on his arm, not taking any pain but clearly reminding him of comfort, of pack. Stiles knows very little about Isaac, and yet he finds himself wanting to do anything to alleviate his discomfort.

He's not used to allowing himself to care about others. About anyone, really, except Peter and Malia, and- the one or two people who wormed their way into his heart by sheer force of will. Maybe he looks at Isaac and sees a possibilty of his own future, if he had remained trapped in a house of ghosts and overboiling temper. He'd like to think that's all, that his carefully guarded heart isn't beginning to crack more than it already has.

The rest of the meal passes with an added, wary undercurrent, everyone dancing around their words like cracks in the pavement.

Plates cleaned away, Scott stands up. "Mom, can you help me with dessert?" There's a strangled note to the alpha's voice, as if the words have been trying to force themselves out for too long. Stiles watches them leave.

"So why are you here?" Malia asks Isaac, so abruptly Stiles doesn't have time to anticipate damage control.

To his credit, Isaac barely seems phased. "Freezer related incidents," he shrugs, as if this is a perfectly sensible answer. "Why are you?"

"Coyotes."

Stiles leaves them to trade snide remarks at each other whilst his father referees; they seem impressively evenly matched. Instead, he has no qualms about focusing his hearing towards the other room, the murmured voices and distinct lack of movement.

"What happened, hun?" Melissa asks, voice soft as ever, yet firm, prompting.

"The alpha twins," Scott starts, stops, and Stiles has to school his expression to hide his shock. Twin werewolves are rare, believed to be incredibly powerful. Alpha twins are unheard of- except a single pair, blood-soaked and vicious. Why would they be in Beacon Hills of all places?

"The alpha twins?" Melissa prompts.

"They've really gotten under Isaac's skin since they... killed the others. They know exactly how to rile him up, and so they've made him a target. And I got a call from Derek on the way home - he and Cora were attacked at the loft. He almost bled out. I just- I don't know what I'm doing, mom."

Stiles hears the moment when Scott's voice breaks, and finds his heart cracking a little more in kind. He of all people shouldn't have let all those sunshine smiles distract him from the obvious pressure of being an alpha so young. Scott's positivity, even when they were children, had been a result of his suffering, not evidence of its lack.

And he's still an alpha, Stiles has to remind himself. He still has blood on his hands, somehow, and that makes him a threat despite any deceptive kindness.

"You're doing everything you can, sweetie," Melissa's voice is muffled, as if by a hug. "You've only been an alpha for a few months, and it's not easy, being a leader even in the best of times. What you've dealt with? Becoming a werewolf, hunters, now the alpha pack? It amazes me every day that you even get out of bed."

"I really wanted this to be the year I got my life back on track. Getting my marks up so I can do AP classes and stay on the lacrosse team, y'know? And now Stiles is here again and I don't know how to feel about that at all..."

"Because he's been gone so long? Because this house is already lively enough with two boys under its roof?" There's a small smile in Melissa's voice.

"Because everything new in this town seems to be something twisted and awful and supernatural. He's been gone seven years. Why did he leave? Where has he been? Who's Malia? I want to trust him, I've missed him so much, but..."

"What do your magical alpha senses tell you? What does he smell like?" The kitchen goes quiet for a moment, and Stiles feels the uncomfortable itch under his skin of being watched.

"He's human," Scott sighs with a guilt-wrenching amount of relief. "But he smells like concern all the time. The way he and Malia move around each other, I can't help but wonder what the two of them have been through, where they've been-"

"Scott, the best thing about you is your big heart. I often wish you wouldn't give it out so easily, but don't let past burns close you off completely from genuine miracles. Stiles is human, and against all odds he's come home. The rest can come later, when he's ready. We have to give him time. I mean, we're hiding things from him too, aren't we? Unless you'd like to carry this trifle back in there in all your sideburns and fangs."

Stiles pulls his attention back to the dinner table, reeling. There's so much, too much, all at once.

The alpha pack were infamous in New York. They were a favourite horror story, passed between supernatural teenagers like an urban legend, a ghost story. For betas the meaning was clear: don't anger your alpha, or he might murder your whole pack and join the alpha pack. For alphas: don't be too good at anything, don't make yourself special or noticeable, or the demon wolf will stalk you from the shadows.

Peter had scoffed at the stories, but even he couldn't hide how they made his skin crawl.

If the alpha pack are in Beacon Hills, this is the worst possible place he and Malia could be. The blood of his own pack is fresh on Stiles' hand, the obstacle between him and them a singular beta. He is a wolf who has also been a fox, who still has a little magic left running through his veins despite no longer being human.

There is no guarantee they would care about him at all.

But the risk is there, a sliver of ice sliding towards his heart.

They must be here for Scott, but what makes him special? Or maybe they're here for Laura Hale, the current alpha of the prestigious if decimated Hale pack. Scott mentioned her younger brother Derek, so the two packs must be on tentatively good terms, at least.

Unless, of course, Scott McCall is the current owner of the Hale alpha power. Which is an entirely possible and unpleasant reality that leaves an awful taste in Stiles mouth. He tries to imagine Scott stood over a body, claws blood-soaked, eyes flickering from gold to red.

It feels so wrong. He shoves the image away as Scott and Melissa emerge from the kitchen, carrying a towering monstrosity he supposes is the aforementioned trifle.

"You with me?" Malia nudges him gently in the ribs. There's a question in her eyes - she knows his propensity for eavesdropping, and he can see how much effort it's taking her not to ask right here and now.

"Later," he whispers, turning back to the table with as much of a grin as he can manage.

There are too many unknowns in Beacon Hills. At least in New York, there was an obvious hierarchy, the etiquette between packs and other supernatural creatures rigorous and unchallenged. Here it seems like a mess of blood and confusion.

But leaving now would cause more problems thann Stiles has the energy to deal with. A reawakened search for a missing sheriff's son and an Eichen House escapee could make national news, especially now that Scott and Isaac know about New York.

And Stiles finds he doesn't want to leave - just yet, at least. Even in a house of wolves, he has a bed to sleep in, Malia by his side, his father in his life. He's laid the groundwork for friendship that he hopes will make people hesitate and listen before they try to murder him. Yes, there's risk, and the potential for blood in the near future.

But is it really so different? He ran from blood - who knows what would have happened to him and Malia if they'd stayed in New York?

The Argents are not a forgiving family, and Stiles has done the unforgiveable. They would have been hunted to the ends of the earth, and without the power of the nogistune he doesn't think they'd last long.

And whilst there probably isn't a standard punishment for betas who get possessed and murder their alpha and several other prominent figures in the supernatural community, he can't imagine they'd be lenient.

After all, no one particularly cared about Peter Hale, but everyone loved Noshiko Yukimura.

So they'll stay. Act human. Go to school, play lacrosse, hang out with Scott. Maybe even try to help out with the alpha pack, if they can.

And when the blood comes knocking, perhaps they'll stand a chance.

[shinglescat]

This is the end, yay.

Previous or  all stories at once. 

The voice of the Prince still lingered in her head. The bizarre time in his custody – something she could’ve never imagined to happen; not a single lesson from her grandmother ever prepared her for this. The Prince… was rather gentle towards her, caring even, as far as you can call a Daedra caring; she even thought this isn’t him, someone else, someone but Molag Bal, but the longer she spent her time keeping him company, the more she saw behind the friendly façade. He noticed, but never acknowledged it, sticking with this game of sheer politeness and kindness, still.

He never forced her into anything, always provided her with new things to do and discover. Upon her arrival, the Prince delivered her of the wicked illness of his own creation – she almost lost herself to the thirst for blood that she sworn to never sate. She must’ve been pathetic enough for him to take pity on her. A benevolent ruler of his own dark kingdom, treating her like the most esteemed guest.

She would lie to herself if she said this wasn’t an important time in her life, that she regrets it. Molag Bal taught her lots of things, most of which were so surreal even her psijic grandmother had no idea about. In between the lessons, they used to have normal conversations, and the man would usually tell her a story of a kind and give her his insight into various events that ever happened. The things he said – the really disturbing things – she had a hard time believing him, yet he made it all sound so right, so logical…  

She looked at the house down the street – the family’s that took her cousin in, their house. It was so tiny and so humble; she’s never seen them like that – too used to the comfort of the Sorano estate, too used to its hearth, its smells, its looks and the atmosphere of luxury; the cold and harsh climate made her look back at what she’s given up – the warm and ever sunny Isles. Will she ever see her home again?

“You are the only one I can trust with this,” the Prince would to tell her, “He needs you now the most he ever needed you, he needs your guidance”. What made him think so, she wondered, of all people to entrust this to her – to a scared and a broken girl. He saw the looks she gave him, the mistrust in her eyes, yet still… Livaen sighed, stopping in front of the door, pressing her forehead into the dried out wood. What makes her obey his… plea? request? order? She could’ve just stopped, abandoned it all and instead followed her heart on this one. Was she scared of him? Or was she scared of what may happen? It was so easier back home – she had servants to take care of everything, and Esmir herself would decide upon urgent and important matters. Now – it’s just her, her and her dearest cousin, both all grown up. 

She pressed the palm of her hand into the handle, pushing the door forward. A wave of smells rushed into her face, the sweet and meaty tones, warm and homey – so different from what she’s used to. It made her nauseous with nostalgia – it felt like home, but… it was an alien home, someone else’s but hers.

- ...They only have fifty years of time to do everything they want. They don't have a promise of a millennia like you, – Aspen argued, leaning against the wall. This quarrel again, Livaen sighed, they’ve been on it since they’ve returned from the Void a few days ago; it seemed like her cousin got bit in the ass about the dumbest thing in the world. He’s been quite vocal in his discontent about the girls’ departure in the nearest future, even with his strong dislike towards Visenya’s attitude. The girl used to say he just envied her and was jealous of them, the ashen haired man on the other hand was sure Mark was just afraid to lose them, yet it was only her that saw through it, Livaen thought. His usual phlegmatic nature, his temperament all of a sudden shifted towards that of a more choleric nature, making the elf unusually snappy and angry, reactive and irrational; almost a polar opposite of himself. And as another addition to that – the gold of his skin has completely faded, replaced with porcelain instead – it didn’t go unnoticed by anyone this time: the parents were concerned about his wellbeing, believing he might’ve contracted a disease of sorts that made him look and behave like this, yet… – Both Meltem and Visenya have their own lives now, they can't be forever at your side, – he moved closer to the elf, his palm touching Mark’s forehead. The kid flinched at that barely noticeable, but remained still, – You have a fever, – the man concluded, making Livaen cringe at that – the man was so over the top sometimes, it made the girl want to vomit.

- And will you stay with me for a millennia? – Mark asked, anger and poison leaking from his voice, tired of everything – he’s been so restless lately, – Of course you won't, – he smirked, – I don't even know how old you are, might just fucking leave me as well before you die too, – he threw his arm into the air as if to make a statement, turning around himself, his voice faltering – the last part of the sentence ended up being silent. The elf went straight for the door, only now noticing the witness to the argument, and the girl instantly felt bad about it – for not interrupting them beforehand. Mark stopped for a moment, as if deciding what to do next, and stormed out of the house as he made his mind.

Livaen looked behind her, the door closed with a loud thud.

- What was this all about this time? – she asked, going to the kitchen table with a small basket full of foodstuffs she got for herself at the market. The man loudly sighed and covered his eyes.

- He’s sick, – he replied, taking a sit on the ladder, – He’s sick, and he doesn’t want to do anything about it.

- He’s always been like that, – she nodded, sitting down on the bench. Meltem had told them that they – she, her now wife Visenya and half-sister Jacqueline – were leaving for Chorrol in a few days. The sisters had a house left from their shared father, no one’s been living in there for quite a few years since his passing, making it stay abandoned for just as long, – I wonder how much their marriage is going to last, – she said quietly to herself, but that didn’t go unheard by the man. He looked at her with a wordless question on his face, – Did he meet him? – she asked instead. Livaen knew the answer herself – the elf did meet the Prince and even had the talk with him, otherwise he wouldn’t have just… changed so much asudden. She asked about it nonetheless – to divert the attention and to avoid any more of the unnecessary drama her question might cause later. Aspen glanced at her, still puzzled, – You are always with him. Did he meet the father? – she repeated the question again, a little bit annoyed. He must have met him, he’s just a coward to do what he’s been told.

- Yes. Yes, he did, but we didn’t tell anyone…?

The girl brushed her hair.

- He.., – she started, trying to explain the thing, gesturing vaguely in front of her, – His blood… it’s acting up. It’s like… if you hold bad emotions locked inside, they will find a way out someday. And he’s got daedric blood in him. He’s… he’s just so confused. I don’t really know, he, – she implied the Prince, – didn’t warn me about the mood swings, – Livaen sighed, getting up from the bench. He did warn her though that she must guide him along this path and be there when he needs her; she must help him understand and reconcile with himself, – We need to find him before it gets worse. Wouldn’t want a psycho on the loose..

They’ve found him under the giant tree, sitting on the bench, facing the old statue of Talos. He buried his face into the palms of his hands, breathing heavily. This was the worst period in his life: the uncertainty, the separation, the revelation – it all hit him at the same time, making his existence insufferable. He had no idea what awaits him in future, he’ll probably have to carry on alone later, for all his loved ones are humans with a lifespan of a burning match… And him being a demi-prince didn’t ease the burden. It all just snowballed and like an avalanche buried him underneath, no way for him to escape this.

Livaen stopped in her tracks near him, observing: he was miserable, she’s never seen him so crushed, so depressed; it seemed like he was about to break apart. And there was nothing she could do on her own to help him, to ease the suffering.

Aspen came close to him, letting his hands into the jet black hair of her cousin. The girl grimaced, for the hundredth time today, it seemed: all these idle touches, glances – it was so disgustingly sweet, mawkish even; her cousin was so in love with the man – it’s going to hurt to bring him back on track later. Maybe she just was jealous, envied him – it was hard for her to think about it: she would banish the thought just before it surfaces in her mind – over and over again, and she didn’t want to admit, too pathetic to own up to her flaws. She never had a feeling just as strong as her cousin’s to this man – this thought about it made her anxious – she never had a chance to experience something like this – to fall in love and be loved in return. Yet her dearest cousin had it all, it seemed, from a caring bride-to-be to some… random hookup. It wasn’t fair; her entire life was planned out for her by their own grandmother – some Alinor nobleman already waiting to get his hands on her fragile frame. She had no say in this, but she just accepted her fate and patiently waited for when it’s time. Livaen snorted at her own thoughts inelegantly: after what she’s been through even arranged marriage would be impossible – who needs a wife that cannot bear children anymore in a society where succession matters most? She suddenly felt disgusted and repulsed: her cousin was so irresponsible to throw himself into someone’s arms like that, especially those of a man; it was selfish. Now that she herself won’t be able to bring a child into this world, he’s the only one who could continue the line, but he instead preferred lust and debauchery… it was her envy speaking – she couldn’t help but turn bitter at what her cousin had and what she’ll never have; it was easy to hate on him, easy to disregard the story behind them both.

- Shit, – she heard Mark swear. He shook his head a little to make the bothering thoughts go away, remaining silent for a moment and allowing himself to enjoy the gentle hands in his hair – a universal medicine for calming down, – I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me, – Livaen rounded the bench to sit near the cousin. He was shaking slightly, as if having a fever, face pale and sick, – I’m just… It’s all so fucking overwhelming, I can’t handle it all, – he grabbed the hands in his hair and pulled onto himself, throwing Aspen’s arms around his neck in an embrace, – It feels like I’m drowning, suffocating, and those cunts don’t help it a bit, – Mark hid his face in the man’s upper arm, letting out a strangled wobbling sigh, – I’m… so sorry, I can’t really control myself at the moment. I’m such an angsty asshole lately, – he laughed hysterically, squeezing Aspen’s hand. He pulled it closer to his face, placing his lips on man’s knuckles, – I’m so fucking sorry for making you see this shit.

This gesture – it almost made the girl gag.

- You need to return to the Void, – Livaen told him, fighting with herself to keep the face straight. She reached his hand, holding it softly but firmly in hers, – Bal told me, it’s going to… make it easier for you, – Mark snorted sarcastically and shook his head. Behind the sarcasm though was pure dread, – I know you are afraid of it. But we can always do it together, right? – she addressed the ashen haired man, and he nodded in agreement. Livaen smiled at her cousin, – You sure do love company.

...

They made their way up to the infinite pillars that were rising from below the water and stretching far into the sky, disappearing somewhere above in the impenetrable veil of mist. It welcomed them with a lone boat bobbing at the end of the platform – no walkway for them to get to the Heart.

The Void was the same today, same as before, yet different: a couple of plants managed to break through the stone and bloom under the ethereal sun: a field blossom and a tiny shrub of rowan. It was something new, but not unheard of – the Void brought leviathans into this world on a whim; it decorated everything with the violet silks… yet flowers? They didn’t look out of place, they looked like they belonged together with the obsidian of stone and the sapphire of waters; it was a strange time to have a spring here though; however, the plants brought hope with them, and thus – some inner peace for a change.

The boat set sail as soon as they got themselves comfortable – Mark sat at the very bow with Aspen just behind him in the middle, Livaen having her place at the stern – it took them farther away from the usual places they’ve been to, maneuvering in between the giant monolithic towers. From a distance a light breeze brought some rogue petals and flowers, making the girl wonder what was so exciting for the Void to start blooming all of a sudden.

It was curious for Livaen: as it turned out the Void is a plane of Oblivion, the girl thought, and the realms always reflect their masters, their emotions and feelings, their state of mind. Would it be possible for them to reflect something else, something the masters hold dear? She will never get to test this theory, but if it was true – something must be influencing the Void to change.

The veil ahead of them started to clear out, leaving patches of white clouds here and there, revealing a lone island in this sea of nothing. Stone thorns swirled all around it, cradling the Heart, creating an impenetrable shell to protect the insides; from behind the stone – a faint glistering – something flowed behind like a silk in the wind. This is the core of the Void – it was blooming in full, its blossom slowly spreading away from the Heart far beyond the thick shroud of mist.

As the boat docked with the island, the only entrance of the Heart opened the way, welcoming the guests with a complete darkness seeping from the inside. Within – the same dark stone with cerulean waters glowing from behind them, illuminating the place softly; in the middle – a basin with ornate smoke circling under the water; above them all – a myriad of suspended in the air crystals reflecting in the stone and lone silks hanging from the thorns. And all around them – flowers’ bloom.

Mark sat near the basin, the others beside him, holding him by his hands. He looked into the water, watching a black swirl of mist emerge from below, enveloping the people with darkness and silence…

...

A woman’s shriek, the one that could tear a soul apart; a pained cry of a baby – it was all covered with a cloud of obscurity – nothing could be seen but felt. “Get it away from me!” – the woman cried, her anger and fear leaking through her voice directed at the newborn soul. She asked for it, begged on her knees; she knew the price she had to pay. She thought it would make her stronger, thought it would open new prospects. She got what she wanted; now – she does not want it anymore, too scared of it. “Get rid of it!” – could be heard echoing in the darkness, voice decaying quickly.

A bright flash, and a white light engulfed it all, slowly fading to reveal a snowy forest in the middle of winter: bright setting sun lighting the snowdrifts, reds and oranges scattering through clear frozen crystals. Under a tree – a roll of fabric lied, tiny golden hands showing from under the thin blanket. The baby cried, loud at first, calling for its impending doom: if it’s not the frost to take its live, then wolves; its bright and cold umber eyes red from the tears. As the sun went lower – the cries turned silent. The gold of the skin faded, now sick and blueish, cold quickly creeping to clench its grasp around the tiny heart and claim it. “Here we go”, someone came over to rescue the child as if they knew it would be here at the mercy of the fate. A man held the child in his arms, gently stroking the frozen face until the red of blood started flowing again, bringing back the fading life into the newborn. “It is decided then”, a cold and quiet voice of a woman spoke, as she appeared before the man. She looked at the child with a genuine smile, stroking its forehead with her finger – the child already opened the eyes, beaming at its saviors – the man smiled in return too, too hard to resist, hiding the smile behind a frown the next moment. “Name the boy”, the woman commanded. “Markus”, the man said, “Now let’s get you home”, he finished, as the memory was enveloped into a dark cloud only to reveal another one.

There wasn’t a flash this time, just careful fade from black to the warm orange of a fireplace, candles that lit up the room, that lit up the two figures standing near a wall. One was the man from before, the other – an unknown woman… the mother, the cowardly mother. A strong grip on her neck prevented her from moving, as the man was looming over her like a menacing shadow, sparks crackling dangerously between the fingers of his other hand. “Try this again,” he said, the memory of the abandoned child in the snows too vivid to forget, “and you will suffer a worse fate”, he warned her. It wasn’t the first time the woman did this, and it won’t be the last – she hates the child, she dreads it with an unreasonable fear. The demonic child, as she called him to justify her actions; she never listens to the warnings, always does what she wants only to be severely punished in the end. “Do not forget, my darling, your soul belongs to me”, he said for the hundredth time already, as the mother couldn’t understand that there was no deliverance from this anymore. “The worse you make his life – the worse yours is going to become”, the man had to let go, as the boy creeped up to him, starving for attention. “Why don’t you take your damned spawn with you?” the woman spat, watching the father caress the son in his hands. “My spawn?” the man laughed wickedly, the child echoing him lightly – the complete opposite of his father, the innocence – kissing the boy’s head. “You begged me for it, and now the least you can do is to be a decent mother”, he finished, letting the memory drift away.

The next memory burst open, black mist leaking out of it, bringing the feel of dread and desperation, filling the place to the brim with pain and misery. The sharp smell of blood, the dampness of endless tears, a silent cry still lingering in the air. And there he was, still infant, lying on the cold stone floor alone and unmoving. It was the mother again – too much of a coward to put an end to his miserable life, to end the agony and torment of her own son; she hated the way he looked at her. He wanted to cry, but no sound escaped him, no tear left his eyes – there were none left, all wasted already to the never-ending woe. A gentle breeze, and from somewhere above a moonlight shone through, serving as the only beacon of light as the jet black shadows crawled towards the child only to be broken by the man appearing from the darkness. The boy couldn’t see anymore but feel, reaching out to the gloom man with his tiny golden arms; the father nestling him up into an embrace to soothe the pain. He stroked son’s face softly, lightly touching the fluff of the lashes – the kid would have probably giggled at the touch, yet not a sound came from him. The boy opened his eyes, slowly, revealing the wounds inflicted upon – no more the noble of umber, only crimson of blood. The man cradled the child, soothing the sore eyes; a moment later – and the moonlight replaced the gore, shining bright silver in the sea of darkness, gleaming still through the thickening mist.

“And what is it that you want, Stone-Fire?” a female voice spoke – the grandmother, sounding through the clearing memories. It was a surprise for her – to see such a guest in her home. “I could tell where your daughter is, and in return you would owe me a favor”, the man replied, holding the details a secret. He wasn’t desperate, just… considerate. What he had seen was the last straw for him – the mother would never change; it was the right time to change the players before something regrettable happens. “I’m listening…” Soldiers in black and gold armors dragged out a woman out of her house, throwing her in the middle of town’s plaza for everyone to see. The golden skin, pointy ears – it looked like a spectacle, a warning for any other that would want to become a renegade, a message to their own kin of the dangers of betrayal. A tall woman with a skin of bronze commanded the parade – it was her daughter lying there, trashing around and spitting out curses. Near the commander another man stood, wide in his shoulders, skin of copper, holding the child found in the basement – his bright silver eyes looking at the mother with dread and sorrow. “Mother! Please!” the woman plead, as the grandmother approached her, slapping her across the face. “You should have thought about your life before you made a run”, she told her daughter, holding her by her hair. The woman was scared, afraid for her own life; she didn’t want to die, not yet. She franticly looked around only to find her dearest husband making his escape with their firstborn; he didn’t even tried to free her, to help her, just left her at the mercy of these people. “Orlan!” the grandmother commanded to the copper-skinned man, “He doesn’t need to see this, turn around”. The man did as told, only tiny golden arms reaching out to the mother as he turned around – the last thing the woman saw, before the grandmother slit her throat, slowly. The blood rushed from her neck and onto the ground like tsunami flooding the land, painting it crimson.

The crimson mist swirled, forming the blood red poppies on a field of gold. Two girls ran around a tree: one with a skin of finest porcelain, hair of raven wing, the other with a skin of gold, hair dark as night. Under the tree the boy dreamed, blessed smile on his face. “Markus!” the raven-haired girl stopped by, taking his hands in hers, tugging the boy onto herself, “Join us!” she said, grabbing the other girl by hand, locking them into a circle and spinning as fast as they could go, red petals flying around softly, taken up into the air by the whirlwind of fun. They broke the circle then, falling on the ground – golden grass was their carpet, their joyous laughter ever so loud. A golden cloud descended from above, forming a male figure – the father; the kids squeaked, cheerful, rushing to the man. He caught the boy in his arms, raising him high into the air, cradling him up into an embrace.

“Markus!” the grandmother shouted – the memory flaring up to let another one in its place – running towards the boy. The kid, covered in bruises and scratches, was kneeling in the middle of a street. It was a mess: once a street full of children looked like a warzone now, destroyed completely by their own stupidity. She warned their parents, she warned them countless times to restrain their children, yet no one listened; now they paid for it, paid for their ignorance and arrogance, hopefully not with their children’s lives.

The grandson was burning, but the flames didn’t damage his body or his clothes. He was scared. It all happened so quickly he had no time to react. He just exploded, releasing it all that’s been held inside. The anger burst open with fires, sweeping away everything that stood in their way; flames burning flesh and stone, drawing the cries from the now victims. He was afraid of this; he didn’t want it to happen – he didn’t know it could happen; he thought he had no magic in him, yet…

The grandmother run to him, pulling him up into her hands. She wasn’t scared of the flames, she didn’t care about them. She could get hurt, but in the end it didn’t matter. What mattered the most was the child in her arms, and she would do everything for him to not get hurt again.

“I’ve… reconsidered”, – the grandmother’s voice was heard, erasing the scene and bringing another, “This... arrangement we had”, she addressed her general, “it’s not going to take us anywhere, I’m afraid. I do not desire to give away the boy, he is my blood after all, my grandson. We should do something about it”. She… got attached to the kid, acknowledged him as her offspring – her late daughter’s legal child. The kid was clever; it would be a shame to give him back to his father later. His blood, the heritage – it all made him even more interesting for her, and with the proper education he would benefit her cause. “Sire”, the general said, “Do you have an idea?” he looked outside of the window, there, where the laughter came from. “Indeed I do, Orlan”, the grandmother nodded, “It’s… quite ambitious, if I can say so myself”, she wickedly smiled, “These two fighting one another for as long as the world exists – they are going to help us. The Princes – they are so vain they will do whatever it takes to destroy each other”, the woman sighed, excited, “And they will have to obey me to get what they desire”. “Sire?” the man asked, her loyal henchman, the right hand. “Why bother with mere racial superiority”, she explained, “when we could bring down Gods and Princes? We could destroy the masters themselves. No gods or kings, only man”…

“He didn’t come, again”, the raven-haired girl complained lightly, as the previous reminiscence faded into a red sunset, girl’s emerald eyes shining softly in the setting sun. The father hasn’t visited the boy yet again, for another week straight. “Grandmother said he had to sail somewhere”, the boy replied, fidgeting with a poppy flower in his hands, “He’s going to be back soon, I’m sure”, he smiled at her. The girl smiled in return, leaning against the boy, her head resting on his shoulder. “Markus?” she called him, to which he grunted in acknowledgement, “Do you love me?” The kid cringed, “EW. No, you are gross”, he replied, which made her giggle. “But you have to!” she jokingly complained, poking him into his sides, “Ouchies”, the boy rubbed his skin, totally unimpressed. “You have to love me, we’re going to get married when we grow up”, the girl closed her eyes, envisioning the future. The other kid wasn’t really thrilled about it. “What if I don’t want it?” he asked, something unpleasantly twisting in his stomach, “You are my friend, and I don’t want to marry my friend. It’s… wrong”, he declared, still fidgeting with the flower between his fingers, “People marry who they love, not friends. I’m going to marry a girl I love”. “But I am a girl!” the young lady pouted. “You’re not a girl, you’re my friend. Gross”, the kid shivered, and they both laughed at that, careless about anything in the world.

A gray fog enveloped it all, fading out quickly to reveal a dark and shiny stone. Cold. Lone. Empty. It hanged up in the air above the obsidian of the water waving with the soft breeze like a black silk. The kids have never seen this place, but it seemed hospitable enough for them to stay. It… it was young, just like them, starving for contact, for living souls. It felt lonely and sad, but now – now it was in delight of finally meeting someone, of finally not being alone anymore, of having… friends. They’ve brought light and happiness to it, their laughter echoing from the stone, going up above into the air. Like a wave the glee washed all over the place, turning the desolation into peace.

“Do you remember those creatures we saw the other day in the sea?” the boy asked his friend one day. The mighty monsters, the behemoths of the oceans – they were so majestic, so noble, he thought, if only he could see them again… It heard the boy, it felt his emotions; as if from his memory the leviathans, gently flowing in the air above the stone, appeared from the thick mist; the lullaby they sang resounded in the very hearts and souls, so dreamy.

No boy was around this time, only the girl. Her raven locks fluttered in the breeze, as she herself eyed a regal woman standing on the other side of the walkway. The woman from before. She waved at the girl as if offering her to make her company, to which the girl did not refuse. They had a talk, a pleasant one at first – the woman seemingly wanting to befriend the young lady; then it shifted to something darker, until the woman took the girl by her arm and vanished. The raven-haired girl returned only after a while; her eyes glowed with gold, happy as never before.

The little noble elven girl cried, as the ship with her friend and her family sailed away. Her cousin on the contrary kept himself collected and serious, a lone tear sparkling on his cheek. They had no idea why the family of the emerald-eyed girl had to leave, but their grandmother knew. The old lady would never tell the children the whole story, maybe some mock up later. Oh, this lying Breton family – she had enough with their deceit. The shady market practice is one thing – it could be forgiven, but an attempt at kidnapping – it is something else. The grandmother was furious to know about this treachery – they already had this marriage agreement, but the breton lord decided to do it his way and kidnap woman’s only grandson. It was a miracle her right hand discovered it, preventing the disaster before it could happen. She should have beheaded them all, but the ruined reputation is worse than any death.

Warm hands awoke the boy – it was an old man, the grandmother’s old flame; silver moon shining through a window lit his dark gray hair tied into a high ponytail, his deep green eyes sparkling in the night. “Get up, get the things you need”, he told the kid, leaving him to look out of the window. It was now or never; the only chance he had to leave this place for good. “Where are we going?” the boy asked, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He did not want to leave, but it was of importance to get him out from the Isles, away from his ambitious grandmother. The man knew what she planned to do, her grandeur plans with the kid playing the main role. “Mark”, the old man crouched in front of him, “We have to leave. Now”. “But how about the grandmother, uncle Nar?” The old elf returned a year ago, pledged himself to serve the grandmother once again, loyal and obedient. It was hard to gain her trust yet again, but eventually – she opened up to him once more. It was all part of his plan – to deceive her and to thrust a knife in her back just like she did herself to him before; this wound, however, would hurt much more. “Uncle, I don’t want to go”, the kid said shaking his head. Right, the man thought, he didn’t have any reason to wish to leave this place, even after all the fairy tales of the north he told him. “Markus”, the old man started, smiling at how concentrated the kid got once he used this name, “There is no time for this. We’ve decided. The boat is setting sail in a few”, he had to take the boy away – for the sake of the future, for the sake of this kid’s life; he’d be damned if he’d let the woman use the child in her wicked schemes, “If you don’t like it there – I will bring you back, alright?” The kid nodded, sad and solemn asudden. The man felt sorry for taking him away, but a better and safe life awaits him once they make it from the Isles…

He didn't know the price he had have to pay – to be branded as a traitor by the one he once loved.

“Mom”, the boy said, suddenly shutting himself, eyes wide open as if he said something bad. The surrounding air filled with silence in an instant, and the awkwardness filled the kid to the top. He never had anyone to call a mom or a dad, and this one just… slipped. He felt ashamed; he didn’t want to look in the eyes of this woman anymore, face red from embarrassment. Instead of saying anything though, the woman just moved from her place, locking the kid into a loving and caring embrace. There was nothing wrong that he said; he finally felt safe.

The same girl – raven black locks, emerald eyes, almost a woman now – yet there was something different about her, something… not right. She seemed restless walking around the stone, like if she couldn’t find a place to stay. She brought a lot of things with her this time: many ancient books in a dead language; artifacts of a long gone race. The young lady always strived for knowledge, and the lessons she had along with her friends – it wasn’t enough, she always wanted more. Some of the things that she brought with her – they’ve been lost to the world, and some – hidden so deep inside the other realms it was impossible to recover them; where did she get them remained unknown. The lady would study them thoroughly, always returning to the beginnings to check the things she had learned. And this carried on for ages, it seemed, time stretching so much it fit hundreds of years into a single day. Yet she wanted more…

The woman from before came to her one day as if was called – their speech muffled, obscured by a primordial magic on purpose, impossible for anything to be heard. The girl bowed before the woman in the end, knelt, eyes close shut and brows furrowed. A fear lingered in the air surrounding her, but she was committed like never before – she would do whatever it takes to save the one she cares about even if the words the woman spoke scared her too much. A touch – and it all went ablaze with a brightness of thousands of suns. Regret, remorse, and anguish – all washed over the girl as she realized – she was deceived. It was too late to turn back now, no way for her to save her very self: her soul would be destroyed and absorbed, her body would become a living corpse following commands a few moments later. It reached out to the girl as her shadow imprinted on the place; it reached out and snatched a piece of her soul before the woman would consume it. It hid it in the deepest recesses no one would ever venture to. The girl is the part of it now, fused together into a single entity.

“Look!” a girl with chestnut hair and crystal blue eyes, skin of a cream – now the boy’s sister – pointed at something in the distance. A noble looking young woman, hair of the finest rye, skin of light gold, eyes of bronze; she moved with such a grace it seemed she didn’t walk but flied through air. He’s never seen anyone more angelic than her; she was the embodiment of everything beautiful in the world he has seen and he has yet to see. The woman glanced at him, half smile on her face, and it was enough to make his heart beat faster, blood rushing to his face, his lashes fluttering. “Why don’t you talk to her?” the sister asked, and that was enough for filling the embarrassment quota for today, making him retreat home.

“Aren’t you the one looking for a companion?” the kid came up to an ashen haired man sitting in the corner. He wasn’t a fan of approaching strangers – this one looked weird, sick and creepy, flower tattoo on his neck and a laurel around his ear – but there was no one else in this place who had the same route as him. The silver greatsword shifted on his back uncomfortably – damn be the day he listened to these old men saying he must wield a sword just as big as him. “Where are you heading?” the man asked not even bothered to look up. “Same as you”, it was dangerous to tell the destination aloud, but luckily, there were not many people around to overhear him. It was really careless of him to tell the bartender this, though, one never knows if they’re honest or not, but there was no other way around this: this area was too difficult to traverse on his own, alone, with each turn hiding behind a witch or a berserk ready to skin people alive. “Are you sure you can wield that paddle on your back?” the man smirked at him, getting up on his feet, and the kid sighed in frustration – this is going to be an adventure.

It barely made it in time, barely awoke the outsider the master brought here with him. The vestige, following commands from beyond, layered magic upon magic on the kid, binding him to the image of his long lost friend; he listened to the every honeyed word the vessel said, too enthralled to notice the deceit.

The outsider was right in time to disrupt it – it felt forever grateful to the odd looking man; and now that the effigy was gone, the kid is finally free from harm safe for the mournful melancholy and tears or relief.

It won’t allow this to happen again.

The last memory slowly faded, echoing in the darkness still. The veil of remembrance gradually lifted, sense by sense returning to the unmoving bodies, waking them from their slumber. Too exhausted…

- Shit, – Mark hissed, covering his eyes with his arm. The memories left an unpleasant feeling in his guts along with annoying anxiety playing in the background of his head, – Shit, imagine hating someone but being a fucking coward to do something radical about it, – he tried to stand up, but his own weight anchored him to the stone. So tired.

Livaen shifted on the floor, rising from the cold stone: her body was just as sore, so she just sat there modestly, watching her cousin gasp for air, squirming in his desire to get up.

- Mark, – she called quietly, afraid to scare him. He hummed in response, – I’m so sorry. Your mother, the aunt, I…, – she couldn’t finish the sentence, as he interrupted her with a gesture of his arm.

- Don’t. She got what she deserved, – the kid exhaled loudly, the arm falling limp on the stone. That woman – he wouldn’t even call her a mother; someone else but. His mother, the real mother that loved him and cared for him, waited for him in his new home.

- Do you… Do you need to talk?

The elf cringed painfully.

- Fuck no, I’ve seen enough, – he pushed himself off of the stone, sitting on the floor, – Fuck. Fuck me, – Mark shook his head, hiding the face in the palms of his hands for a moment. It was all so messed up, so twisted; how little idea he had about anything at all, and everything that he knew about his past – it was all lies, a pain inflicted upon him and his loved ones by the creatures more powerful than any mortal. He sighed, removing the hands from his face, looking up into the stone, – Cath? – he called, and the Void responded with a light breeze, strands of his hair waving gently as if someone combed through, – Shit, – he snickered, shaking his head: she’s always been here at his side, and he didn’t even know it, – imagine if I haven’t met you, – the elf addressed the ashen haired man this time that was already standing on his feet.

The soft breeze inside the Heart changed a little, sounds travelling differently.

- You’d be dead, – someone from behind announced, – She would have murdered you first – you would become a threat to her, – the Prince walked inside as if on cue – he must have listened in on everything, but then again – the Void was once a part of his realm, – Then she would have destroyed me. After – she would have claimed both your realm and mine, and for the final – she would have hunted down everyone who has or had any connection to me, good or bad. But, – he offered his hand to the elf. Mark looked at it with mistrust, but soon grabbed it, and the Prince pulled him on his feet, – she was too late, – he looked at Aspen, – Have you thought about that favor I owe you by the way?

Mark walked up to the basin, throwing one last glance into it. The whirlwind under the water calmed down, and smoke just leisurely floated inside.

- What happens now?

- You tell me, – the Prince replied, unmoving, – You could end this right here and now, or you could continue living on with this burden, being hunted by Meridia.

The girl moved from her spot.

- Mark, – she grabbed his arm firmly, reaching around him to look him into the eyes, – Please, don’t rush it. Let us think this through, – she lowered her voice, whispering, almost hissing at him, – He is the Schemer Prince, he may be lying about all of this. Even the memories – they might be untrue!

The kid stopped her with a gesture of his hand. He was so tired of everything. Mark moved past the Prince and through the exit, paying no attention to the three behind him. The air outside was so crisp and clean, like if a thunderstorm washed all over the place – the smell of electricity so prominent and liberating. He inhaled lungs full of air till they started aching, alleviating his mind and soul of the worries. Livaen was right, indeed, it was necessary to think this all through before deciding anything, yet he couldn’t wait anymore.

Was he the one to blame here? If it wasn’t for him, Catherine would be alive, Esmir’s daughter too, and Livaen wouldn’t’ve endured the horrible pain; Narandil would have his face intact – the scar serving him a reminder of the betrayal, and Visenya would have never known the grip of death. Was it his fault of endangering all of these people? Maybe he just shouldn’t’ve been born at all, maybe he was just a someone’s mistake. Right… A mistake. He was a mistake – the mistake of his mother and his grandmother; the payment for their ambitions; a scapegoat. If only they could have quenched their hunger.

The kid stopped at the crossroads, the entire walk absorbed in his thoughts, following the paths the Void laid down before him. He looked around: they followed him closely, not speaking a word, giving him space to breathe. It was now or never; with a heavy sigh he turned around, facing the Prince.

- I’ve decided, – he told him, the words coming off easier than he anticipated, – You have my favor.

The man only nodded in acknowledgement, and nothing else happened. So anticlimactic; he wouldn’t lie to himself, he expected a storm, a battle, an army of Meridia’s Aurorians – anything at all, but not this – just a nod of the head. But come whatever may, it just must end.

- Show yourself, – the Prince commanded to someone, voice like a thunder roaring through the air. The vestige appeared – the Catherine, her hair of pure gold this time, – Using the vessel still, I see? – the man smirked, drawing a low hostile groan from the woman.

- Just do what you have to do, Stone-Fire, – she replied, the look on the face solemn. She possessed the body herself, unwilling to come in person unlike numerous times she did in the memories, afraid of what’s about to happen. Was she trying to buy herself some time? Or was she trying to save herself using the image of the long lost girl?

- I was about to, – he told her, bowing slightly before her as a courtesy, – But I have something to ask first. Mark? – the Prince addressed the kid – he looked fatigued, eyes weary and sleepy, – What are you going to do about Esmir now that you know everything? She almost sacrificed her own child for her ambitions; murdered her daughter; wanted, most likely still wants to use you in her own devices; indirectly caused Catherine’s untimely demise; melted Narandil’s face; tortured your friends and almost killed Visenya… She was and is one of those behind Thalmor; she still bears the idea of bringing down the masters. What are you going to do about her?

Mark frowned, looking at the Daedra. A strange timing to this question, yet so weirdly right, he thought, as he forgot about the grandmother completely. It had nothing to do with the situation at hand, though still he decided upon indulging the man in this matter.

- Well, – he started, calculating every possible outcome for her and for them, – Esmir has to go, – Mark said, voice stern and confident. Livaen looked at him, a wordless question in her eyes, yet said nothing, – Livaen will replace her as the head of the house, – the decision earned an interested look from the Prince, but he didn’t interrupt the elf: he expected him to say he will seize the power for himself, like a child of his should, yet he didn’t. The kid took a deep breath, thinking: there was no denying of the crimes the woman has committed, and she would have to pay eventually for everything. But at the same time…, – She is also very valuable to dispose of, if that’s what you were waiting from me to comment upon, – Mark glanced at the Daedra. The man nodded in response, – She might be vile and cruel, but she’s one of the most brilliant people that ever lived. It would be a shame to lose her. So – she will stay by Livaen’s side as an advisor, nothing else, – a twisted glee flashed on the Prince’s face, and he applauded. It wasn’t what the man expected: he expected the son to give the woman to him to torture her endlessly for every broken deal they had; but this decision was… very prudent, to say the least, practical, and it made him feel really proud of the child. He would make sure himself the woman stays on track and serves the children properly.

- Now tell me, – the Prince asked in a curious tone, too excited with the previous answer. He moved closer to the kid, throwing an arm around his shoulders, – I’ll let you decide her fate, – the man gestured at the vessel, implying the person behind it. A fury crossed the vessel’s face, but died out quickly, – What should I do with her?

- Let her live, – the elf answered confidently, the answer final and definite. The woman looked at him, bewildered, not saying a word; the father just smiled wickedly – oh, the practicality of this kid: the woman was too… dear for him to get rid of, his very existence would become boring without his nemesis, and now that she’s defeated – she’ll try to avenge this embarrassment sometime later in future. It’s a fun game, a tug of war of sorts, and the man definitely enjoys it despite the lesser failures along the way. She must love it too… The Prince used the confusion of the woman and made a leap forward all of a sudden, getting close to the vessel in one big step and cutting its throat. The body went limp in an instant, no blood pouring from the wound; the man caught the finally dead Catherine in his arms, gently laying her down onto the stone. His finger stroked her face softly, closing her eyes forever now. After – he rose up, turning around to see the son one more time.

- She wouldn’t do the same for you. I hope she appreciates it, – and with this the Prince disappeared into thin air.

It was anticlimactic.

Later that day they placed her body onto a boat – the bed of roses – its material very similar to that of a wood. Mark set the float on fire, her body catching flames quickly – the blaze so hot and bright; the Void’s tide taking her away into the mists beyond. The breeze carried her ashes away as she burned, turning them into the finest crystals. It was sad, but he was also happy she finally has her peace – she finally reconnected with herself, he felt it in the air; she was gleeful about it, she’s been waiting for so long to become whole again. It was snowing after for a few days, snowing with sparkling in the invisible sun crystals.

...

- Hurry! – the elf girl commanded to a servant, – Please, don’t break it! – she looked all over the crates they’re going to ship back to Alinor – all filled to the brim with Skyrim’s treasures.

It was the end; they were boarding the ship to set sail back home – to Summerset. Esmir and her loyal bodyguard were already aboard, yet Livaen still lingered ashore for someone to finally show up and say farewells. She wanted him to leave with her, to join her and return home; she was dreading the time she’ll have to step in in her full rights as the head of the house with little friends by her side, she wanted him to share this power and ease the burden; he was adamant about staying up here in the North though.

- Livaen, – someone gently touched her elbow, soft and low female voice getting her attention, – Relax, don’t want you start spitting diamonds here, – Meltem smirked at her, making a remark about the tension in the girl’s whole body, pointing at two riders in the distance. Here they are, the girl smiled shifting her gaze onto the woman – she followed their path with her eyes before meeting Livaen’s. She’s bound to leave Skyrim with her, in so many years finally changing the place; it was heartbreaking to see her go, but hopefully it’s for the best. Everything happened so quickly; it happened just as quickly as they got married: just like Livaen anticipated their marriage didn’t last long, and they had to put a stop to it. Visenya – the girl’s head is full of wind, careless and childish still; their relationship was like a game to her, something unimportant and something she could disregard with ease. At least she doesn’t have an ache in her heart – she married the jarl’s brother the next day after the divorce. Maybe it was for the better… Meltem wanted to leave in the end, to leave Skyrim behind, wanted to go with her sister to Chorrol as they planned, but she couldn’t see herself as a housewife or anything like that. She is a warrior, and she will die with swords in her hands doing something that is worth dying for. She would’ve left, but Mark stopped her, suggesting she stays by his cousin’s side, being her shield and most importantly a friend for her.

- Hey! – the voice of her cousin returned her back to senses: he dismounted his horse, his companion following him closely behind, as always. They came closer, the elf locking the girl into an embrace – it was finally all over for him and for her, and she can safely return home as the new lady of the house, – You’re all ready? – he asked, firmly holding her by her shoulders.

- Yes, – she nodded, smiling, watching as he switched over to Meltem, their embrace so warm and everlasting; it was hard for both to let go. The ashen haired man followed the elf as he pulled away from the woman facing Livaen yet again. She sighed, a bit sad, – Are you sure you don’t want to leave with us? – the same old question, but it didn’t hurt asking.

- No, – Mark laughed lightly, shaking his head. He’s so different now from what he was a month ago – finally bright and full of life, – but I’ll visit you someday, – he leaned forward, kissing Livaen’s forehead, – I’m going to miss you both, so expect me, – the kid told both women, as an annoyed captain urged them to leave the docks and finally go aboard the ship. They hugged one more time saying their farewells and left the two behind ashore. Mark waved his hand, watching them set sail for the South – it was bittersweet to say goodbye, but this was life, and it’s unfair; he still has Aspen by his side, his parents in Whiterun too, and they’re going to visit the Isles sooner or later. With this thought, he smiled brighter than ever after them, his hand blindly finding the other man’s hand and squeezing in tightly.

[myforeverforlife]

familiar stranger (part two).

After losing the past six years of your life, nothing has been normal. But with the help of loved ones, you’ve been reacquainting yourself with your life, piece by piece. After your first visit with your therapist, you decide to reach out to the one person who would know you better than you know yourself: your husband. 

Trigger warning: Mentions of depression, panic attack

Masterlist

Word Count: 6,817

Series masterlist: ( 1 )  ( 2 )  ( 3 )  ( Final )

If there was one thing were still confident about, it was your ability to cook. Although maneuvering your everyday surroundings proved to be a challenge, being in the kitchen was as familiar to you as the back of your hand. Minseok had even watched in awe from the kitchen island as you flitted back and forth, hands just as dexterous as ever. While your mind had forgotten, your hands had managed to remember.

After managing to shoo Minseok out of the apartment and clean up the kitchen, the butterflies began to set in. They had gone almost unnoticed while you cooked, all of your attention focused on making sure the food tasted good instead of melting down at the thought of tonight. But now in the silence of Minseok’s apartment, there was nothing left but to wait for Jongdae.

You rushed over to the restroom, fixing any hairs that were out of place. Even though were sure that as your husband, Jongdae had seen you in worse states of dress, you still wanted to at least try to look like you had everything together.

A muted knock could be heard at the front door, the bobby pin in your hand slipping onto the floor as you flinched in surprise. “Crap,” you muttered to yourself. You picked the pin up and left it behind on the counter, your hair now the least important thing on your mind.

As you neared the door, you tried to take even, steady breaths like Dr. Suh had advised. Undoing the lock, you slowly eased the door open, peeking out from behind. “Hi, Jongdae.”

Jongdae greeted you with a bashful smile, one hand coming up to briefly touch the shell of his ear. “Hi. Am I too early?”

“No, you’re right on time! Come in.” You stepped back to let him in, closing the door after him.

As he slipped off his shoes, Jongdae brought his other hand out from behind his back, revealing a small bouquet, purple flowers interspersed with smaller blossoms of white. “Oh, I brought flowers.” He held it out to you, an awkward bit of laughter falling from his lips.

Immediately, you gasped in surprise, giving Jongdae a small thank you as you gingerly lifted it out of his hand. “Lavender! My favorite,” you cooed as you breathed in the bouquet of flowers. You took a closer look at the smaller flowers. “What are the other flowers?”

“Jasmine.” Jongdae watched you with a knowing smile, only looking away for a second as he slipped on the extra pair of house slippers by the door. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it! Thank you, really.” With another appreciative sniff, you gestured over to the kitchen. “Are you okay with fish?”

“Fish sounds great, I’m starving.” Jongdae followed after you while you looked for a vase to drop the flowers in.

You paused, eyes wide to look at Jongdae over your shoulder. “Do you have any allergies?”

“Nah, I’ll eat almost anything. Do you need help?”

“I’m fine, but thanks! Dinner’s already made, I just need to plate it.”

Jongdae shifted uncertainly from foot to foot, wanting to help out, yet knowing that you were more than capable. He wasn’t necessarily bad at cooking, but compared to you who did this for a living, his dishes seemed fairly basic.

The two of you sat down at the table, the new vase of flowers set in the middle. “Thanks for cooking,” said Jongdae. “Seriously, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It wasn’t any trouble at all! I just hope you like it.”

Without any hesitation, Jongdae took a bite of his food, humming in content as his face lit up. “This is really good, Y/N! Seriously,” he added upon seeing your skeptical glance.

“You don’t have to overreact,” you teased, digging into your own food. You were pleased to find that Jongdae hadn’t been wrong ⁠— to be honest, this was pretty delicious. In the midst of your self-critique, you completely missed how the corners of Jongdae’s mouth curled up in a grin. “You know, this is the most I’ve felt like, well ‘me’ all week. Weirdly enough, I feel more like myself when I’m cooking.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he spoke up after a couple of bites. “I know it’s been hard on you.”

You shrugged. “It hasn’t been too bad,” you replied unconvincingly, voice trailing off at the end.

Jongdae put his fork down, one hand about to reach out to you before he stopped himself. Although you looked exactly the same as you did a week ago, everything was different now. He couldn’t expect to be able to hold you, to comfort you the way he always had. “I’m sorry,” he consoled you.

Shaking your head, you tried to stop the pricking of tears in your eyes. “I can’t imagine its been easy for you too. I mean, to have something like this sprung upon you out of the blue, it’s insane. Sometimes I still feel like I’m not fully awake yet.”

Jongdae hummed in agreement. “I feel like that too, sometimes. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve already been really helpful to me.”

“I have?” Jongdae’s eyebrows lifted dramatically, drawing a small giggle from you.

“You stayed with me in the hospital, and you even brought some of my things over here. And you came over today too.”

“Y/N, that’s nothing. I would have done those for you, regardless.” Jongdae’s voice had taken on a more serious tone, eyes shining with an unspoken warmth.

“Because you’re my husband?” Your gaze dropped down to your left hand, still ring-less. You didn’t miss how Jongdae’s eyes followed yours as well, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Because I care about you. No matter whether you remember me or not.”

You sighed, shoulders slumping. “You’re too sweet. How did I ever find someone like you?”

Jongdae laughed aloud, even as his cheeks turned pink and he tried to hide his smile. “Thanks, but I think I’m the one who’s lucky here.”

“As weird as this sounds, this feels like a first date to me.” Now you were the one to become a flushed, embarrassed mess.

“I guess it kind of is.”

Dinner completely forgotten, the two of you shared giggles over the absurdity of it all. A first date with someone you were already married to? It was practically unheard of.

“Where was our first date?” you asked, chin resting on the heel of your hand as you leaned forward.

Jongdae’s face took on a far-off look, as if he could see it all right there before him. “We went to go see ‘The Winter Soldier’ together.”

“Who?”

“The second Captain America movie. Wait.” Jongdae’s mouth fell open in horror. “You don’t remember it. Oh my god, you don’t remember any of the Marvel movies since then.”

“How many have there been?” you asked, stupefied as to why he was making such a big deal out of this. “Isn’t Iron Man the only one everyone cares about in Marvel?”

Jongdae leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. “Wow. This is surreal, holy crap. You need to watch the rest of the movies. Like, now.”

“Now? Can it wait until after dinner?”

“Oh.” Jongdae had already jumped up from his seat, ready to pop in a DVD until you stopped him. “You’re right,” he added sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. He sat down, quickly getting over his embarrassment as he gave you the basic rundown of what had happened to the Marvel universe in 6 years. To be honest, you didn’t know who half of these superheroes were, but it was cute to see how Jongdae was geeking out about them.

In the midst of Jongdae giving you the basic rundown of “The Winter Soldier”, you frowned in confusion. “Wait, I don’t get it. Why is Spiderman here? I thought Tobey Maguire was Spiderman. Did they bring him back?” Your eyes widened. “Oh, wait! They made a new one with that one guy! Uh... Andrew Garfield? The British guy, right?”

Jongdae snorted, covering his mouth with a napkin. “Well, I mean, he is British. But no, this one is played by Tom Holland.”

“Who?”

“Another British guy. But trust me, you’re gonna love him.”

And as unorthodox as it was, Jongdae decided that instead of watching the Marvel movies in order, you two would start off with Spiderman: Homecoming. Of course, you were extremely confused as you sat watching it beside Jongdae on the couch, but he had been right ⁠— you loved this kid.

“I think he’s my favorite Spiderman,” you whispered as you leaned closer, shoulder brushing against Jongdae’s.

He chuckled softly, crossing his feet underneath him, socks rubbing against the couch. “You’ve said this before too.”

“Good. I didn’t think I’d be this interested. Is there another one?”

“Yeah, it came out this year. But Disney and Sony had some sort of contract conflict, so there’s no more Spiderman movies lined up.”

You gasped, and Jongdae barely fought back a laugh at your reaction. “No way! When did this happen?!”

“Pretty recently. A lot of people are pissed about it.”

“I’m pissed, and I just found out!”

At that moment, Minseok walked back in to see you completely dumbfounded and staring wide-eyed at the screen while Jongdae was still trying, and failing, to hide his giggles. “Alright, what did you do?” he yelled out.

“Min! Disney killed Spiderman!”

Jongdae was literally hunched over at this point, shoulders shaking with heaving laughter.

You scowled at him, reaching out to tickle his neck, Jongdae yelping in surprise. “Hey, this isn’t funny! I just found out about this, and of course Disney had to ruin it.”

It only took Minseok one glance at the TV to understand what you were talking about. “Really, Dae? You know how worked up she gets about Spiderman.”

“No regrets,” Jongdae choked out, wiping tears from his eyes with a last chuckle.

Minseok walked over to the TV, crouching down with one finger outstretched towards the DVD player. Immediately, you and Jongdae both shouted out in protest, Minseok flinching back as if he had burned. “What?!”

“You can’t stop it now! Tom Holland doesn’t even know who Vulture is!” Jongdae protested.

“I don’t even know who the Vulture is,” you piped in.

Rolling his eyes, Minseok stomped over to the couch, taking the empty spot on your other side. Soon enough, all three of you were fully immersed in the movie. And of course, when it was finally revealed who the villain really was, Minseok and Jongdae shared a high-five behind your back as you gasped loudly in shock.

But much too soon for all of you, the movie came to an end, and the three of you were reminded of how late it had gotten. Minseok yawned, stretching both arms out above his head. “I’m gonna go shower and head to bed.” He poked your cheek as he got up, along with a playful tug to Jongdae’s.

“Thanks for having me over,” Jongdae spoke up quietly, more to you than to Minseok.

“Of course. Thanks for enlightening me on the entirety of the MCU.” You had learned a lot more about superheroes in the last couple of hours than you had ever thought you would.

Minseok slipped away, proud of giving you two some alone time again while Jongdae shook his head with a smile. “It was nothing ⁠— especially since I got to see your reaction all over again.”

“Was it the same as last time?”

“Hmm, maybe better? You weren’t this worked up in the movie theatre.”

“Have we seen all of the Marvel movies in the theatre?”

“I think so. We might have missed a couple, but we have a pretty good track record.”

You thought for a second, fingers playing absentmindedly with a hole in your jeans. “Will you watch them with me again? Since I don’t remember?”

Jongdae was speechless, brows raising before he was beaming with that ever-radiant smile. “Of course! Just give me a call whenever you want, and I’ll come over.”

“That sounds good,” you replied softly, thinking back to the way both of you had been sitting side by side, sharing in the laughter brought on by a simple movie. “I’d really like that.”

Jongdae’s eyes had softened as well, knowing all too well what you were thinking. He had been with you for five years, after all. He reached out, hand initially going to cradle your cheek until he remembered that this was all still scarily new to you. Jongdae paused before poking your cheek mischievously like Minseok had. “I’ll see you around, then.” He got up to stretch, his hands high above his head as he yawned. “I should head home.”

You caught a glimpse of his stomach before looking away, clearing your throat as you got up. “Do you want to take some leftovers?” In your usual fashion, you had made more than enough servings than needed.

“Can I really?” Jongdae looked like an eager puppy, even in his tired state.

“Of course!” You went to search for some tupperware to put the food in while Jongdae looked for his jacket. He found it in a wrinkled lump on the floor, probably from having slipped off the couch earlier. As he picked it up, he noticed a few picture frames perched on the coffee table close by. One was of you and Minseok as children, wearing swimsuits and walking hand in hand as you played at the beach. Another held a family photo of your wedding day, you and Jongdae seated side by side with countless family members from both sides surrounding you. Jongdae picked up the frame, a thumb running over your face as he thought back to that unforgettable day.

You peered out from the kitchen, the silence in the living room making you curious. When you saw what Jongdae was looking at, you came over to look as well. “Minseok put those out,” you said. “He thought they might help me remember something.”

Jongdae turned around, half embarrassed at being caught, and oddly enough, a bit guilty as well. He placed the frame back down, hand much more unsteady than before. “Have you? Do you remember anything?”

Now you were the one freezing up with guilt. No matter how many times you thought about what Dr. Suh had shared with you at your first session, it was still hard to keep that ugly voice back at bay. That same voice came to haunt you in the dead of night, at your lowest when you were made even more aware of how alone you felt. Almost imperceptibly, you shook your head, unable to look Jongdae in the eye. “No, I haven’t.”

Jongdae couldn’t help the uncomfortable tightening in his chest, like all of the air had been sucked out of the room. It wasn’t your fault, and he knew that, truly he did. But it still hurt to know that while the two of you were making progress in the present, there was still work to be done on your shared past. “Do you want me to send you some pictures I have back at home? I don’t know what Minseok’s showed you already, but we’ve got a bunch of pictures and videos saved on the computers.”

“Really?” Minseok had done his best to fill you in on the missing years, even reviving his long-abandoned Facebook account to show you pictures that had been uploaded to the website. However, most of them had been of you and Jongdae from a third perspective. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Jongdae tried his best to put on a bright smile, and while you only had a week’s worth of memories of him, you could still detect the slight sadness lingering on his face. “I’ll email them to you, or something.”

He left soon afterwards, bidding you a soft good night while you told him to drive safely. Now alone in the living room, you were reminded of how much life the room had held not even an hour earlier. You had caught a glimpse of what married life must have been like: playful conversations across the dinner table and on the couch, sweet smiles exchanged here and there.

Switching the lights off and plunging the room into darkness, you walked towards your room, passing your bouquet of flowers that Jongdae had brought over. 

“The search for the perfect mattress continues. Mattress number 15.”

“Dae, stop. Vlogging isn’t your thing. And this is only like the fifth mattress we’ve seen.”

A loud gasp. “Hey, don’t kill my vlogging career before it even starts.”

The camera was lifted, showing an unfamiliar version of yourself perched on the edge of a bare mattress. Other shoppers walked back and forth behind you, each one on their own search for a mattress in the store. You shook your head with a smile at Jongdae’s silliness, even as he stifled his laughter from behind the camera.

“Well? How’s this one?” he asked.

You fell back against the mattress, hair splayed out beneath you as you closed your eyes. “Hmm,” you thought, rolling onto your side. “I like it. Come try it out, Dae.”

With a grunt, Jongdae flopped onto the bed beside you, the camera view going blurry for a few seconds. When it finally refocused, it was on your face once more, your eyes still closed as you faced Jongdae. “Ooh. I like this one,” he said.

Opening your eyes, you quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve been saying that about all of the mattresses.”

“Because it’s true!”

“You can’t like all of them, you need to pick one!” Now you were giggling, and Jongdae’s hand came into view, going over your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. The camera wasn’t even filming you anymore, only picking up footage of people’s feet walking across the wooden floor of the store.

“Grown-up shopping is hard,” Jongdae said.

“Wait until we get to the big stuff, like a refrigerator.”

Jongdae groaned. “Why are there so many kinds out there? Is there really someone out there who really needs a touchscreen on their fridge?”

“Shh, I’m sleeping,” you mumbled.

“You can’t sleep in the store.”

“Stop bothering me and go back to your vlogging,” you teased back.

“Oh crap.” The camera lifted once more before turning off, the screen going black.

In the present, you stared at your laptop screen, face reflected back to you in the blank square of the video player.

Jongdae had followed through with his promise, sending you email upon email of videos and pictures from the past six years. He had even brought your laptop over so that you could go through the ones you had saved as well. Thankfully, you remembered your laptop password ⁠— but only because you used the same five passwords on rotation. Good for your amnesiac brain, not so good when it came to potentially getting hacked. You had made a mental note to change the password later.  

For the past hour or so, it had been nothing but constant searching through files and emails. Nothing had managed to bring back any recollection of your missing memories, but you were still hopeful. A lot of the videos were taken by Jongdae, tiny snippets of your daily lives like the playful shopping trip you had just finished watching.

You clicked the video player closed, bringing up a file of clips on your laptop. Luckily, it seemed like all of your videos and pictures had been meticulously organized into files based on year, and then month. You had started off by looking at things in chronological order, but you were steadily growing tired and wanted to watch something that would have more meaning to you. Or rather, you if you could remember it.

Based off of what Minseok and Jongdae had said, you had gotten married in 2016. You clicked on the folder, going through each month until you finally found it ⁠— another file labeled “Wedding Day”.

You clicked on it, surprised to see how much content was inside. Immediately, you clicked on the first picture, one of you and Jongdae standing side by side. Jongdae had one arm around you, smiling down at you while you were busy fixing his tie. The next picture was of you, glancing over your shoulder with a smile while Jongdae spread out the fabric of your train. Your hand came up to trace the line of your dress through the screen. And yet still nothing, no spark of recollection.

Picture by picture, you made it through most of the content in the folder until reaching a video. Your hand paused on the mouse pad as the title caught your eye — “Wedding Vows”. With bated breath, you considered ignoring it and continuing your search for a less emotional video. But at the same time, you wondered if this would be the one to break through the block in your memories.

Upon first click, the camera was focused on you and Jongdae standing only a few feet away, both of you hand in hand. Your back was to the camera, while Jongdae stared at you with tears gathering in his eyes.

“Sweet Y/N, I am truly the luckiest person in the world because I have you in my life,” Jongdae spoke. “You keep me grounded, keep me from leaping before I think. But more than that, I’m thankful for your everlasting kindness. I’ve never met anyone who had a heart half as generous, as selfless, as beautiful as yours. You light up my day ⁠— you have ever since we first met. You’re also the stars in my night sky, watching over me even from afar. I still can’t believe that I get to be yours. I love you, forever and ever.”

Although you couldn’t see your face from this angle, you could see how your hand came up to wipe away Jongdae’s tears. It lingered on his cheek, and Jongdae closed his eyes, letting his face rest in your hand until you pulled it away.

You cleared your throat, and even through the video, you knew that your legs must have been shaking like crazy. “I love you, darling Jongdae.” You paused the video, struck by the sweet endearment you had given your husband. “Darling,” you repeated to yourself, the word surprisingly not as foreign to you as you expected.

“I love how full of life you are, how you always know exactly what to say. You encourage me to try new things, to take the risk. With you by my side, I’m never afraid. I love getting to be the one to fall asleep and wake up by your side, to comfort you when you’re feeling down and know that you’ll do the same for me. I’m so thankful for your everlasting support. You have been the light in some of my darkest nights, and I want to be the same for you. You have a heart of gold, and I will treasure it for the rest of my life.”

Someone in the video sniffled, and you watched as Jongdae kissed your forehead with a smile, even with your veil in the way. The video ended, and you searched for more clips of the day.

You watched as the next one showed you and Jongdae slipping your wedding rings on, and then Jongdae lifting your veil. He wiped at your cheeks with his thumb, whispering something that you couldn’t hear. The crowd in the video cheered as both of you kissed, your hands at the nape of Jongdae’s neck while he held you close to him in his arms. When you finally separated, you pressed another kiss to the tip of Jongdae’s nose, the two of you giggling to yourselves.

There were videos of the two of you dancing, of laughter over shared secrets as the night wore on. When the last video ended, you were left stunned, but thankfully with more answers than questions.

There was no doubt that you had loved Jongdae ⁠— you had even been able to tell after your dinner together. But seeing these videos gave you visible proof that you had been happy with him. It was hard to imagine you being unhappy with him, especially as you peeled back the layers in both your personality and his. Jongdae practically radiated joy, and this joy was extremely infectious.

But did you love Jongdae now? Could you ever love him the same way you once had?

Sliding your laptop off of your lap, you got up from where you had been sitting on your bed. Your wedding ring lay in the back of a drawer, still in the bag you had received from the hospital. Slowly, you took the ring out, gauging yourself every so often for some sort of natural instinct ⁠— an impulse to put the ring on. But just like the other time you had tried to put it on, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually do it. There was still no immediate reaction, nothing that told you that putting on this ring was just as normal as brushing your teeth everyday.

You sighed, shoving the ring back into the bag and slamming the drawer closed. Why weren’t you remembering things? You had waited as patiently as you could, always keeping in mind that it might take a while for your memories to come back. Now, you were forced to revisit the fact that maybe, your memories were lost forever. It seemed more and more likely that you would spend the rest of your life with a six-year gap in your mind.

You were terrified of mentioning this to Jongdae and the rest of your family. They were all confident that everything would turn out fine, that you would eventually have all of your memories back. If you didn’t make any progress, you would feel like you had let everybody down.

Dr. Suh was able to pick up on this during your next session, although it took some careful prying and a lot of patience before you opened up to her.

“I still think that it’s too soon to give up,” she said. “It hasn’t been a month since your accident and your mind will likely need more time to fully recover from the trauma. But,” her eyes softened, “Even if your memories don’t return, that has nothing to do with you or your efforts.”

“But I feel like I should have had remembered something by now. I keep looking through old pictures and asking Minseok and Jongdae about things. Nothing brings back even the tiniest bit of a memory. What do I do if I never get any of them back?”

Dr. Suh reached over to her desk, grabbing a folder and looking through the contents. “I was doing some research. There’s a man in America named Scott Bolzan who lost 46 years of memories — quite literally his entire life at the time.”

“His entire life?” you repeated.

“Everything. He couldn’t remember meeting his wife, having children. He even forgot what the concept of a birthday was.”

“That sounds horrible.” You thought it was bad enough to have no recollection of the past six years, but 46 years? Compared to this man, you had it lucky.

“It definitely seemed like it. He and his wife tried the same tactics that you’ve been using: looking through old pictures, talking about things that happened in the past. But no matter what they tried, nothing came back.”

“Is he okay now?” You were practically on the edge of your seat, praying for a happy ending for this man.

“He still doesn’t remember anything from before his accident, but he’s been happy living with his wife and family. He even wrote a book about his experience.”

“But he’s okay with that? With not knowing who he was before?”

Dr. Suh tapped the tip of her pen against her leg as she thought. “I believe he’s come to terms with what’s happened, and has made the most of his condition. That’s not to say that he isn’t happy — he’s said that he fell in love with his wife all over again. He cares about his children, and loves them like he did before. It was a hard and taxing journey to get to that point, but he’s thankful for having made all of this progress. Of course, I’m sure if he had the chance, he would want all of his memories back. But he didn’t give up on living his best life, even after he knew that he would never be the same person he once was.”

You picked up on what Dr. Suh was hinting at, but that was easier said than done. It was hard to imagine yourself being okay with the way you were now, your mind a blank slate and relying on everyone else to fill it in. “I’m still scared. I’m terrified to go around for the rest of my life with a huge chunk of me just missing, the part of what makes me, me.”

“But you’re still here ⁠— your personality, your current thoughts and beliefs. Even if you don’t have your past with you, that doesn’t mean that you can’t continue to live now, in the present. I can’t promise you that it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out, but I want you to try also focusing on what’s here now, instead of focusing only on what you may have lost in the past.” Upon seeing your hesitation, Dr. Suh gave you a knowing smile. “I’m not saying that you have to give up on trying to regain your memories, but I don’t want you to become so fixated on the past that you lose sight of what’s important to you now. It’s a blessing that you weren’t more seriously injured in your accident, and I know that this seems like the end of the world, but you still have so much out there ahead of you. You are the writer of your own life story, Y/N. I want you to be happy with yourself, with your life.”

Feeling a wave of emotion starting to well up inside of you, you took in a shaky breath before managing a tiny nod in agreement. “I’ll try.” Your throat felt dry all of a sudden, parched mouth making it hard to speak. “Do you have any water?” you rasped out.

The therapist got up from her seat, heading across the room until you couldn’t see her, a wall blocking your vision. She returned, water bottle in hand and held it out to you, lid already uncapped.

Barely managing to get out a thanks, you took the bottle from her hand, only taking a few short sips in between trembling gasps of air. You let the bottle rest in your lap as your closed your eyes, trying as best as you could to calm down.  

“Take deep, slow breaths,” you heard Dr. Suh say from beside you. She counted as you breathed in, numbers a flowing mantra to your ears. Dr. Suh waited until it seemed like you had calmed down, no longer gasping for air but taking steady, calming breaths to self-sooth. “Are you feeling better?” she asked.

Opening your eyes, you were surprised to see her crouched beside you, still a respectable distance away, but close enough to be of support. You nodded, all too aware of the perspiration lingering on your skin, how the dread that had filled you up minutes ago was now slipping away. “Yeah, thank you.”

Dr. Suh took her seat again, watching you carefully until it seemed like you truly were feeling better. “Do you have any exciting plans coming up soon?” she asked by way of distraction.

“Umm, well, I’ve made plans to meet up with some friends. I asked Jongdae to come with me.”

“Are they friends that you remember?”

“I remember Kyungsoo really well since we went to culinary school together, but I only know a little bit about Baekhyun. Jongdae told me that we kept in touch with them often though.”

“That’s good. How do you feel around Jongdae now?”

“I feel more comfortable around him. I asked him over for dinner and we ended up watching a movie too. I can see why I liked him so much. I feel safe and happy around him.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. You do seem a lot happier than the last time we met.” Dr. Suh glanced at the clock. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

Your eyes fell to your ring finger, thoughts going back to the times you had tried to put the ring back on, without success. “I feel guilty about not wearing my ring. Jongdae doesn’t ask about it, and I haven’t said anything, but I know that he notices. I just feel weird about wearing it, it’s just strange to think of it being my ring.”

“And that’s completely fine. You’re getting to know who he is, who you are. It would be unfair of anyone to expect you to wear the ring if you felt uncomfortable about it. This is your decision to make. Take your time, there’s no rush. If or when you feel ready to wear it again, you’ll know.”

“What if I’m never ready though?”

“That’s fine as well. You don’t have to justify the way you feel about this, Y/N. The ones who care about you, who love you will understand this as well. Even if you decide that the life that you had before isn’t the one that you want to live now, the people who support you will be there every step of the way.”

“Even Jongdae?”

Dr. Suh nodded, no trace of deception in her smile. “Even Jongdae,” she answered, genuine in her response.

Even more surprising was the fact that you knew this to be true. You might have still been learning about Jongdae, but everything about him screamed sincerity. You nodded in agreement, feeling slightly better. Standing up to leave, you gathered your purse and jacket. “Thank you. I’ll see you again next week.”

“Y/N?” Dr. Suh called out as you reached the door. “It’s not selfish to want to be happy.”

You hesitated before nodding once more, murmuring a soft goodbye as you left.

As you waited at the bus stop, you ruminated over Dr. Suh’s last words. You had been feeling better with each passing day, but still incomplete. Perhaps it was time to stop waiting for happiness to come to you, but to search it out instead. 

“Are you sure we’ll get there in time?”

Jongdae bit down on his bottom lip as he stared at the traffic ahead. “I hope so. I forgot how busy this road gets, even on a Tuesday.”

Currently, the two of you were on your way to meet up with Kyungsoo and Baekhyun at a cafe to catch up. You hadn’t had much contact with either of them since leaving the hospital, but you remembered that they had sent a bouquet of flowers once they found out you were staying with Minseok. Kyungsoo’s writing was the same as always: right to the point, letters written out in an elegant script. Baekhyun was much more effervescent in his writing, many exclamation points peppered here and there. Other than that, they had given you space until you reached out to them. It was through this simple act that you knew they really understood you and your need for time to heal, something you appreciated deeply.  

“I can text them and tell them we’re running late,” you offered.

Jongdae sent you a grateful smile, hands still tensed over the steering wheel. “Thanks.”

Baekhyun replied right away, assuring you that it would be fine — Kyungsoo was still weighing the merits of every drink and dessert on the menu and taking forever to order.

You and Jongdae both laughed over this, such a particular trait of Kyungsoo’s. Although you and Kyungsoo were both culinary experts, he took his job much more seriously and was constantly on the hunt for the best of the best.

“Kyungsoo seems just like I remember him,” you said with a giggle.

“Food obsessed? Yep, that’s him. And you, to a similar extent,” Jongdae replied with a grin.

“Me? When?”

“We went out for a fancy dinner when you got hired at April & Flower a long time ago. There was this strawberry matcha cheesecake that you fell in love with, and you tried recreating it for like a month.”

Your mouth watered at the mention of this heavenly dessert. “Was I able to?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought it was practically spot on, but you were convinced that something was missing. Although that didn’t stop me from begging you to make it every once in a while,” Jongdae joked.

“God, please tell me I saved a recipe.”

Jongdae gasped aloud, making you flinch in your seat. “Holy crap, I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“Your cookbook.” Jongdae was still wide-eyed, mouth open in surprise at whatever he had just realized.

“I have a cookbook?! Like Martha Stewart or something?”

This snapped Jongdae out of his reverie with a burst of laughter, his lips turning upwards as he chuckled. “No, although I think yours is better. You have this huge notebook of recipes you’ve written down. I mean, you only started writing in it a couple of years ago, but there’s a bunch of recipes in there. I can’t believe I forgot about it.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I forgot about it too.”

Jongdae shook his head with a smile. “Ever the comedian. Maybe the cookbook will help you out. Do you want me to drop it off sometime?”

You shrugged, glancing at the clock on the car console. There was no telling how long you guys would be out with Kyungsoo and Baekhyun, and you felt bad about making Jongdae come over just to drop off one thing. “Is it okay if I come over to pick it up today? Since we’re already out anyways,” you reasoned.

”Yeah, of course! We can get it after this,” Jongdae replied quickly. “You’re always welcome to stop by, it’s just as much your place as it is mine.”

“Thanks.”

The rest of the car ride was silent, neither one of you knowing what to say next. The midday sunlight shone through the car windows, sending panes of light across your legs as Jongdae drove.

“Have we been to this cafe before?” you asked.

“Yep. You’re gonna love it, they make really good brick toasts.”

“Brick toast?”

“Yeah, they’re these huge slices of toast with a bunch of toppings on it. Fruit, whipped cream, chocolate, you name it.”

You felt a rumbling in your stomach, a hand immediately moving up to cover it. “I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.”

Jongdae shot you a sympathetic glance. “We’re almost there.”

And sure enough, in a couple of minutes the car was pulling into a small parking lot. There were tables and chairs arranged under the yellow awning of the cafe, and you could spot a couple of waiters bustling to and fro inside. A shock of pink hair next to one of the windows caught your eye.

“Is that Baekhyun?”

Jongdae followed your gaze before grinning. “Yep, that’s him.”

“And that’s Kyungsoo? His hair is so short,” you exclaimed.

“He’s kept that same hairstyle for the past year because he says it’s easier to take care of. Maybe I should do that too, but then again, I don’t know if I can pull off that look,” Jongdae said wistfully, running a hand through his hair.

You turned to look at him, studying his face. “I think you’d look fine, no matter what hairstyle you have.”

Jongdae’s cheeks started to turn pink, his tongue caught between his teeth as he smiled shyly. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat, reaching for the door handle. “Come on, let’s go eat.” Jongdae stepped out of the car, and you followed suit. As soon as you had the door closed, you noticed that Jongdae had come around to your side of the car, an arm offered out to you. He raised an eyebrow, waiting with a smile.

You took it with a smile of your own, letting your hand curl around the crook of his arm. Walking together like this, it was easy to forget about everything that had happened to you, all of your worries that had been plaguing you for weeks.

To pretend that you were a woman, out with her husband.

Series masterlist: ( 1 )  ( 2 )  ( 3 )  ( Final )

A/N: the flowers in the bouquet that jongdae brings over have special meanings! lavender is meant to stand for devotion while white jasmine stands for sweet love. also, the case of scott bolzan that dr. suh mentioned is a true story! I was trying to look for real life cases to reference, and this guy just really went through the worst case of amnesia you could imagine. at first, I was going to mention the real couple that the movie “the vow” is based off of, but they divorced in real life so there was definitely no way I was gonna include that when I want the opposite for jongdae and y/n LOL

@khelmatic 

[goldenkookietae]

Saengil Chukahae, Jimin-ah

BTS One shot

Pairing: Idol!Jimin, Boyfriend!Jimin x reader

Word count: 1,079 words

Warnings: Fluff, cute

Summary: Where you’re Jimin’s girlfriend and are keen on celebrating his birthday with all the boys. However, with boys as chaotic as BTS, you just wish the event could happen with the least bit of destruction as possible.

A/N: I just HAD to do this for Mochi’s birthday. Had. To.

Disclaimer: This story is an AU fanfiction that I have created using the names of the members of BTS. I do not claim any ownership over the members of BTS. The plot and the personalities of the characters are entirely my own.

Do not plagiarize my work and do not repost.

“Is it time yet?” Y/N whispered, her eyes darting to every watch she could find, including her own.

Taehyung simply responded with a sigh. Y/N had been asking the exact same question since that morning, not because she actually needed to know, but because the question was just stuck in her mind. Often, she wouldn’t even bother to listen to the response.

“Well, there’s five more minutes and twenty eight seconds, twenty seven, twenty six, twenty five, twenty fo- Ow!” Taehyung hissed, as he glared at Yoongi, who returned the expression, not the least bit sorry about hitting Taehyung on the head. Cursing, he slowly rubbed the back of his head, mumbling silent profanities at his hyung, which did not go unnoticed.

“Shut up you brat! We don’t need you counting the time. You can’t even swear right,” Yoongi spat, before letting out a huge yawn, “When is this gonna be over?”

“How many times, hyung? I told you, in four minutes and eight seconds, seven, six, five, four-” Taehyung started as Jungkook leaned into him quickly.

“Hyung, you better not mess with Yoongi hyung right now.” he whispered, as their eyes travelled to an extremely pissed off Yoongi. While Taehyung widened his eyes in fear, Y/N had decided that it was time.

“Alright guys! Bring the cake!” she clapped excitedly, immediately putting on a party hat and taking hold of a streamer.

“Where’s the plastic knife?” Hoseok questioned, his eyes carefully set on the extravagant chocolate cake in his hands. Everyone in the room remained silent, their eyes following the cake with dreamy eyes.

“Well?” Hoseok prodded again, his eyes shifting to glance at each member, and going back to the cake once more. A loud cough echoed in the room, snapping everyone’s attention to the said person.

“I’ll have you know that plastic is not environment friendly and is in fact very dange-”

“Yah! Couldn’t you keep your hands off! Breaking fucking everything!” Jin scowled, his brows furrowing.

The surprised gasp from the maknae had not gone unheard. Neither did his little accusation that followed after. “Eomma said the f word!”

“Yah! You two! I might have used it but if I ever hear you two saying that, you’ll have to cook for yourselves for a whole month!” he panicked, pointing a firm finger towards Jungkook and Taehyung, while the two nodded vigorously.

“It’s midnight!” Y/N squealed suddenly, cutting off the small talk between the other members, and bringing it onto the lump of bed sheets in front of them.

She quietly walked over to the bed, bending over her boyfriend’s form and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Babe!” she whispered against his skin, as the sleepy head stirred awake slowly with the tingling feeling on his skin.

“Happy Birthday, my love.” Y/N smiled, watching his eyes fluttering in the light. And when those eyes opened, a beautiful smile spread on his lips.

“Thank you.” Jimin whispered softly, reaching upto peck Y/N’s lips.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JIMIN! SAENGIL CHUKA HAMNIDA~” The room erupted with joyful squeals, as the members of Bangtan sang louder and louder with every note of the song, Y/N soon joining the chaos.

Jimin sat up completely awake, beaming at the enthusiastic boys. “Thank you!”

“Our Jimin is so grown up now! Time flies!” Hoseok pouted, his voice quivering ever so lightly. Everyone turned their attention to the sensitive boy, as realisation of the same fact dawned upon them.

“Cut it y'all. It’s the same line every year.” Jimin shook his head, punching a teary Hoseok on the arm lightly.

“RIGHT! Time to cut the cake!” Y/N clapped her hands once, looking over to Namjoon placing the chocolate delicacy on the bedside table which had been dragged to the centre of the room.

“Use this!” Namjoon squeaked as he handed over a steak knife to a confused Jimin

“We had to make your birthday special. We love you the most.” Namjoon grinned nervously.

“He broke the plastic knife.” Jin sighed, while Jimin’s narrowed eyes crinkled into a crescent smile.

He didn’t waste time as he cut the cake, the knife going through the soft texture smoothly, and stuffed himself with a huge piece while the members laughed softly.

“Come here, baby!” He squealed, pulling up a piece of cake while both Jungkook and Y/N walked closer to him.

“Um, I meant Y/N.” he whispered, his voice going quieter towards the end, blushing a bright pink.

“Sorry. I thought so since everyone calls me a baby.” Jungkook mumbled, dropping his head low, while Taehyung reached out to hold his hand.

Jimin chuckled and reached out to feed the cake to Y/N, who had been eyeing the cake with heart eyes.

“I can take the cake myself, love.” Y/N smirked, bending over and licking the frosting on Jimin’s lips. A series of ‘Oooooooh’s erupted behind them, the members giggling at the couple.

“Stop it you disgusting peasants.” Yoongi glared, earning himself a smack from Jin.

“Don’t you dare.” Jin warned, as Yoongi turned away and bit back the string of curses he had planned on using.

“Thank you so much for all this!” Jimin cut in, jumping up and pulling everyone into a group hug.

“Well that’s the only nice thing you’ll expect from us today.” Hoseok swiped the chocolate frosting on Jimin’s face with a tissue. Y/N did not miss a moment, watching everyone playing around, feeding each other and clicking pictures with fond eyes.

“Alright now! Let my babyboy get some sleep! It’s already two in the morning, and he has to wake up early so he can enjoy his best tomorrow!” She shook her head as the boys whined about her being too bossy, but eventually listening to her. Hugs and kisses followed, greetings for the wonderful day and one by one, all the boys had gone back to their rooms.

“Good night, love.” Y/N kissed Jimin’s forehead softly, preparing to leave when Jimin caught her hand.

“What are you doing?”

Jimin only snuggled into the crook of her neck.

“Shhh. I want you to sleep next to me. It’s my birthday and you can’t say no.” He gave a sleepy smile and closed his eyes.

“You should’ve at least wiped off the chocolate frosting.” Y/N whispered, wiping off the teeny tiny speck of chocolate from the edge of his lips. Jimin breathed out a small puff of air, and a quiet snore followed.

“I hope you live happily forever, my love. Saranghae.”

13th October, 2019

Happy Birthday Jimin!

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