#but i said there my sadness often brings a pain to my chest and left arm

[froggiewrites]

Bloody Hands

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You're struggling with horrible period cramps, and luckily, Law has the perfect solution. Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Period Sex, Fluff Word Count: 2.1k Notes: Did I write this in one sitting instead of just taking ibuprofen for my cramps like a normal person? Maybe. Anyway, this is my first time writing for Law, so I hope I did him justice!

This is going to kill you.

You say that every month, of course, but you really, truly mean it this time. You’re practically immobilized, laying in the fetal position on your bed trying not to let out pitiful moans every time another wave of pain hits. You fail every time.

Several members of the crew had come to check on you, bringing offerings of heating pads, ibuprofen, and various other remedies, but they hardly helped. After the fifth visit (Penguin bringing you more water while anxiously checking you over), you couldn’t even thank your friends, only letting out a sad whimper to acknowledge their presence before once again squeezing your eyes tight and trying desperately to ground yourself.

Your captain had been noticeably absent from these visits, probably burying himself in work as he always does, and you’re torn between being grateful he hasn’t seen you in such a sorry state and hurt tearing through your chest that he didn’t care enough to check on you. You would have gone to him in a heartbeat if he was doing as poorly as you were. He wouldn’t want you to, of course, would lock his door and burrow so deeply into his bed he wouldn’t see a single speck of light until his illness had passed, but you would come anyway. You would at least try.

You regret the thought the moment you hear a familiar hum at the doorway. You should have known he would never leave you alone when you needed him. “I almost didn’t believe everyone when they said how bad it was.” You whine, and you hear a sympathetic chuckle. “I know.” The heels of his shoes click softly against the ground, and suddenly Law’s warm hand has slid under your shirt, warm and gentle as it rubs circles onto your upper back.

“Everything hurts.” You’re so lost in the pain you can't even bring yourself to hate how pathetic you sound. His other hand comes to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzle into it, welcoming the affection gratefully.

“I know, sweetheart.” He doesn’t often call you pet names, and it makes your heart flutter when he does. Usually when you hear them it means you’re going to be taken care of, cherished in a more tender way than the quiet and understated (but no less wonderful) way he normally shows his love for you. His lips ghost over your forehead, and you finally open your eyes to see his own staring at you with undisguised concern, bags under his eyes more pronounced than usual. “Can you describe it to me? Is it just the cramps, or is there something else?”

“It’s just cramps. And a small headache, I guess.” Another wave crashes over you, and you pull yourself in even tighter. “They’re…they’re not normally this bad.”

“And the pain meds haven’t helped?”

“Not enough.”

“Hm.” You can see the exact moment he flips from lover to doctor, racking his brain for any knowledge he can use to help you, and the moment he finds his answer. The light flickers on behind his eyes, and he carefully looks over you, assessing the situation, before your lover is back, sly grin slowly creeping over his face and a quiet excitement makes its way into his voice. “I think I know something that could help. If you’re willing.”

“I would do anything for this to stop,” you whimper, and his amusement once again fades into fondness as his eyes soften with pity.

“I’ll do my best to help, sweetheart, I promise.” His lips brush against your forehead again before the bed shifts and his warmth has left you. You cry out, but he gently shushes you. “Just a minute. I’ll be right back, really.”

He probably is only gone for a minute, but it feels like hours. You don’t relax for even a second until you hear a quiet, “Shambles!” and find yourself in the familiar dim light of Law’s room. Your back is pressed against something rougher than his usual blankets, and you turn your head to see you’re laid out against a mismatched array of towels, clearly stolen from the shared bathroom the rest of the crew uses. His pair of towels are separated, one lying directly under your lower half while the other sits folded and ready at the end of the bed. Law is staring at you, unblinking, directly next to it.

“Hi.” Your voice is weaker than you want it to be, barely a whisper, but he slightly smiles when he hears it anyway.

“Hi.” He leans forward a bit, eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light, looking almost like a predator stalking his prey. It makes you tense despite yourself, causing another flash of pain in your abdomen. The vulnerable noise you make causes him to grin, showing just a bit of sharp canines through his parted lips. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“Your treatment, sweetheart.” He maintains eye contact with you as he slowly pulls latex gloves over his tattooed hands, covering the letters on his fingers. Once they’re fully on, he lets the material go, making a small thwap as it snaps against his skin. He repeats himself. “Are you ready?”

“Yes?”

“I need you to be sure.”

“Yes.” You repeat, more firmly this time.

“Excellent. I promise you’ll feel better soon.” With that, you can feel the cool latex against your skin as he slips off the loose pajama pants you were wearing in a single fluid motion. You then feel his hands against your thighs, forcing them apart and leaning forward. You let out a soft noise of surprise, and he gives you the same predatory smile as before before muttering, “Just relax.”

His gloved fingers slowly trace up your thighs, before he quickly removes your panties, depositing them somewhere nearby. He turns his attention back to you, fingers retracing their path, and you shiver as he runs a single finger down your slit. He lifts his hand closer to his face as though to inspect it, and you can see the blue latex becomes stained with blood. You can see his pupils dilate, black overtaking the normal steely grey of his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s fascinated or aroused. Probably both.

He allows his hand to find its rightful place again, slowly inserting his first finger into you. You gasp quietly, and he laughs under his breath. You feel yourself stretch around him as the slick of your blood makes it easy for him to slide himself knuckle deep into you. You let out a stuttering breath as you get used to the new sensation. Your pain hasn’t subsided, but this is certainly a good distraction.

“Everything alright?” His voice is low, thick with want, but he tries to maintain an even tone.

“Yeah,” you managed to squeak out. “I’m fine.”

“Only fine?” He lets out a displeased hum. “Next time I ask, I want you to be doing better than ‘fine’.”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” You regret the words the moment they come out of your mouth. As much as Law loves to pretend he is some even-keeled professional, he’s easily riled up by a challenge, and challenges relating to you are some of his favorites. “I mean–”

“I know what you meant. Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.” With that, he begins pumping, keeping a steady slow pace that isn’t nearly enough for you, before suddenly adding a second finger. He curls them, hitting a sweet spot that makes you sing for him, and he gives you an absolutely shit eating grin. “Sounds like we’re already well on our way, hm?”

He speeds up slightly, his other hand leaving the plush of your thigh and finding your clit. The material feels strange against you, but that thought is quickly shoved out of your head as he slowly begins to rub small circles against it. You let out a whine of, “Law!”

“Yes?” His voice is dripping with smugness. You can do nothing but let out another small cry of his name, and you can see the way his chest slightly puffs out with pride at the sound. There is nothing in the world he loves more than making you come unraveled, and he loves any reminder of that, especially those that remind him that you’re his and that he is the one making you feel this way. “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you. We’ll be there soon.” He adds a third finger, reveling in the way you clench around him. You see his eyelids drop slightly as he takes in the sight of you splayed out before him, blood and wetness covering his fingers as they pump in and out of you.

You finally, finally begin to feel something stronger than your pain as the coil in your stomach tightens, making every part of you begin to tense as you approach your precipice. Law leans over you, taking his eyes off of your cunt for the first time since he started  just so he can look you in the eyes and whisper, “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You gush around his fingers, crying out. He doesn’t look away from your face as your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, taking in every inch of your sweet expression. He works you through it, not removing his fingers until he knows for certain that you’ve ridden your high to the end, leaving you spent and relaxed against the towel below you. Once he slides his hands out of you, he quickly removes his gloves, dropping them into a nearby trash can. He grabs the towel at the end of the bed and uses it to wipe up any blood on your thighs, placing a gentle kiss to each thigh once he’s sure they’re clean.

“How are you doing?” His voice carries no challenge like earlier, only a genuine concern for you.

“I’m great.”

“No cramps?”

You close your eyes, taking in your current state. You feel a little sore, and there’s still a small pressure in your skull, but you realize your abdomen doesn’t hurt at all. “No cramps.” You can’t keep the pleased smile off of your face, and when you open your eyes you see his expression mirrors your own, if a touch more smug.

“Good.” He kisses your forehead before gently gathering you into his arms. You let out a soft noise of protest, but he pulls you into his chest anyway. “After a quick shower and some sleep I think your treatment will be over. …For now.”

“For now?”

“You’ll have to come see me if your cramps return, of course.” His eyes shine with a gentle mischief you don’t often get to see.

“Oh, of course, Dr. Trafalgar.” You expect him to roll his eyes at you, but he smirks further at you using his title. Interesting.

For now, he carries you into his personal bathroom, setting you down and beginning to fuss with the shower. Your eyes spy the empty towel rack, and you have a realization. “Law?”

“Yes?”

“Do you have any towels not covered in blood?”

“I–hm.” He leaves for a moment, returning with another clearly stolen towel. The crew is going to have a bad night once showertime rolls around, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much, still caught up in your sudden relaxation after your day of suffering. In the shower, Law pampers you thoroughly, refusing to let you lift a finger to do anything for yourself. His fingers are gentle as he washes your hair, your face, your body. He wraps you tenderly in a towel once all is done, even helping you dress once you’ve dried. He only stops pampering you once he’s tucked you tightly into his bed, heating pad and pain meds ready on his nightstand just in case. And in a very rare treat, instead of rushing off to work, he lays down next to you.

“You aren’t going to leave?” You can’t keep the tentative hope from your voice.

“Not until you’re asleep.” He pulls your head into his chest, and you happily make a home there.

“I’ll have to stay up to keep you here.” Even as you say it your eyes are drooping, and you can feel the rumble of his laugh.

“You can try.” He runs his fingers carefully through your hair.

You lose quickly, falling into an easy sleep, surrounded by warmth and care, and pain far away from your mind.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[uglypastels]

Okay, ya bean had a nightmare and then read a couple of your Logan fics again cause comfort. And I had an idea:

Reader has a nightmare and they wake up to Logan holding them and telling them they’re alright and he has them and the reader sees they hurt Logan but he’s healing and holding them and is soft and comforting and telling them it’s alright he heals and he’s had his fair share of claws out nightmares that readers helped him through.

Just soft Logan comforting his person like they do when he has hard times. Makes the heart warm and fuzzy.

I'm so sorry to hear about your nightmare hun but I'm glad that I (or at least my fics) could help ♥ hopefully this one can bring out a similar reaction.

warnings: slight angst but mostly fluffy comforting. nightmares. mention of wounds. reader has unspecified mutant abilities.

~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

It wasn’t the actual nightmare that woke you up or your own scream, but his. A wrung-out groan of pain that startled you out of your night terrors. Your cheeks had already been covered in a sheer layer of drying tears, but as you made his shape out in the dark room, more started to spill down your face.

‘Hey, shhh, it’s okay.’ Logan leaned across the bed to you, but you moved back, too aware of what you had done, not that he was having any of this. ‘No, it’s okay, Princess. C’mhere.’ It was hard to do anything against the strength his arms presented as he pulled you into a warm embrace.

‘I’m sorry,’ You sniffled out against his chest.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said hushed. One of his hands cupped your cheek, ensuring you kept your head where it was. You closed your eyes, letting the tears that escaped fall while focusing on his heartbeat. The steadiness of it certainly calmed you down. 

‘Where did I—’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he didn’t even let you ask about where you had struck him. ‘It’s all gone now.’ He kissed the top of your head, and you knew he was right. Whatever marks you had left had surely already healed, but it didn’t stop you from feeling guilty.

‘I’m sorry,’ you mumbled against him.

‘I know. It’s alright.’ For the next few moments, neither of you said anything; you just pulled each other closer in the embrace. Then Logan spoke up again as he wiped some hair from your face. ‘Another nightmare?’

‘Yeah,’ was all you could reply with, feeling tired of how often you had found yourself in this scenario the last few weeks. It had started to feel as if he had to take care of you on an almost nightly occurrence as the dreams had been getting worse and worse.

‘Wanna talk about it?’

  You just shook your head no against him. 

‘Wanna go back to sleep?’

Again, you responded to his question in the same, slightly childish manner, making him chuckle. 

‘Alright, bub.’ Maybe it was the way you were so quiet, but he could tell there was something on your mind you weren’t letting him in on. ‘What is it?’

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ you let yourself look at his face.

‘You could never hurt me, Princess.’ His thumb pressed lightly across your cheek.  The minimum light from outside hit just right, so you could see it reflect in his eyes. You could see the sadness in them.

‘But I–’

‘I’m telling you, you can’t.’ He expressed it like the most matter of fact, like you had not, just moments ago, woken both of you up by unconsciously attacking him in your sleep. But somehow, the way he said it made you believe it. At least that he meant it. 

‘I just…’ you sighed, trying not to overthink the images that had flashed before you in your sleep, ‘I keep having these dreams and you and— everyone I know really— everyone is in pain and agony, and it’s all because of me, and I feel so helpless.’

‘I know.’ And he would be the one person to know what you mean, having had his fair share of bad dreams. He had told you how bad they used to get as they had occurred before you had met, but even now he would still wake up in a cold sweat. ‘But remember, it’s just a dream. Everyone is okay. We’re okay.’

the end

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[seresinhangmanjake]

Hellooo. I hope you are doing well. If you still take drabble requests, could you write something about the morning after their first time together in Signed Away? Or if you are more in the Oh, Baby mood, something about the first night/morning after Honey returned to Jake with Eve?

Only if you want to do any of this, of course. No pressure.

Have a lovely day ❤️

Hello! I hope it's ok, I went with the first night after Honey returned with Eve for Oh, Baby.

Words: 827

First Night Home: Dad!Jake Seresin Drabble

That little thing belonged to him. 

And god, was she little. 

Much smaller than he remembered babies being. Tiny fingers. Tiny toes. Tiny bowed lips with a dot of a nose. Just a little thing wrapped up tight in her little crib. And she was his. His and yours—something lovely born of you both. 

He could watch her for hours. Simply stare, waiting for a soft exhale or slight wiggle of one of those itty bitty arms. She was so real and so sweet, he’d held her in his arms, and yet, sitting two feet away from her, he still couldn’t quite believe he had a daughter. 

“It feels odd, doesn’t it.”

Jake turned his head to find you in the doorway of his guest room, your hands squeezing a towel around your damp hair. He could easily remember the last time he saw you like that. Freshly showered, bare-faced, with his t-shirt hanging down to your thighs. One of many memories he’d refused to let go of. 

You took a few steps closer to the crib Jake had set up hours before. 

“When they first laid her on my chest,” you began, your eyes landing on your sleeping baby, “I thought I would suddenly know how to be a mother. I figured everything would simply click and feel so natural.” Your knuckle ran lightly over a silky, rose-tinted cheek. “But it didn’t. Took a few days for it all to really soak in; to understand that she was…mine.”

As you spoke, Jake stared at your silhouette, your form made up of luscious curves that was hidden under the cotton fabric of his shirt. They were fuller now that you'd had a baby. Beautiful in the aftermath of bringing your shared child into the world. 

He wished he could've seen the way you had changed. To see your belly grow and your breasts swell. To see you glow the way he'd heard soon-to-be mothers often do. He didn't like to imagine how perfect it would've been. But having you in front of him now was enough to wash away some of the pain of missing that time. Though it didn't erase everything. Certainly not the regrets, nor the disappointment in himself for not having found you after you'd left. 

“Honey," his voice was soft, "I wish you hadn't been alone."

“I had my mother, lovely as she is,” you lightly snorted. Then eyes meeting his, you said, “But I wish I’d had you. Being by myself in the hospital was—"

"Your mom wasn't with you when you were having our baby?"

"No.” You shook your head and draped the small towel over the edge of the crib before crossing your arms. "I didn't tell her when my water broke. I just called an ambulance. Surprisingly, Eve came rather quickly so there wasn't time for my mother to question where I was when she got back from work. I let her know once Eve was born."

Brows pinching, Jake sat up a little straighter in his chair. His nails wanted to dig into the faux leather. "Why didn't you tell her before? Fuck, Honey, wouldn't it have helped to have her with you?" 

The thought of you scared and alone, with tears streaming down your face as you were forced through such physical and mental exhaustion crumbled the edges of his heart. What you needed was a hand in yours for you to squeeze the everloving life out of, someone to brush the damp hair back from your brow, to kiss your temple and whisper encouraging words to keep you going. Instead, you’d had no one. Not a single soul that loved you by your side. 

"Jake," you sighed. There was a hesitant upturn of your lips that didn't match the sadness in your gaze. "If it wasn't going to be you beside me then it wasn't going to be anyone. That spot was reserved for you, and I should've let you have it. Anything else would've felt…wrong."

“Honey—”

“It’s too late,” you said. “I know my mistakes. And no matter how many times I’ve wished I could go back and reverse them, I can’t.”

He immediately reached out and wrapped your hand up in his, pulling you closer so his lips could press a kiss to your palm. “I don’t want you torturing yourself,” he whispered between one kiss and another. 

A fresh sheen coated your eyes, shining even in the dim light of the room. “Maybe one day,” you said, that half-hearted smile back on your face. “Will you sleep in here? If you’re comfortable. I, um…” you glanced at Eve, “I’d like it if we were all together tonight.”

“Of course, Honey,” he said. Because as much as it sounded like a plea from your lips, there was nothing he wanted more. In no universe, under any circumstances, would he have denied you. Never would he give away a chance to be with his family.

---

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @demp @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @abaker74 @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[greatideas-badwriter]

SasuSaku: Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Chapter 5

Akuma was gone when Sakura next woke, leading her to believe the prince had regained control of his body at sunrise and left.

'All these things have happened, and I've yet to speak with the prince face to face.'

She had no idea what type of personality the Uchiha man had because he'd always been shrouded in mystery. All she had to go on were the rumors that circulated the halls of her home and what Akuma had said.

Two days passed without catching a glimpse of Prince Uchiha, day or night. Sakura was too afraid of what Akuma would do if he found out she wasn't taking care of herself, so she'd given up refusing meals. It didn't take long for her strength to begin returning.

The Haruno woman had so many thoughts and worries swirling around in her head that she often became dazed. 'Should I trust Akuma to give me a purpose in life? Is it okay to allow a demon to determine my future?'

She didn't hate the idea of having her decisions made for her because that was how she'd lived her life thus far. She'd never known anything else. Her concern was what would happen if her family discovered the prince's secret. If they asked, what would she do? Should she tell them? They were her family, after all, and she owed them for keeping her alive all this time.

But what about Akuma?

He was a bloodthirsty and prideful being, but he vowed to destroy anyone who'd bring harm her way. How long will his attention last? Was it just temporary because he was amused? In the end, Sakura decided to just do as the demon wished because if he did grow tired, she'd be in the same place she should've been all along: dead.

On day three after waking from her long sleep, Sakura was sitting at the windowsill in the massive library with an open book in her lap as the falling snow distracted her attention. It wasn't the first time she'd seen the elegant precipitation, but it was rare for it to be so thick and constant where the Haruno estate was located.

She quite hated snow because it reminded her of the times she'd been sent out to shovel it without proper garments. Every year, she'd get deathly ill from carrying out such orders, and every year, her family didn't bat an eye. Even the maids and butlers were given thicker clothing than her.

The memories sent a shiver down her spine.

"Are you cold, Lady Haruno?"

Sakura turned her head in surprise to see a somewhat familiar face. 'It's the prince! Why is he here now? And Why?' Gasping, the woman got to her feet so she could properly bow her head, "My Lord, it's an honor to finally make your acquaintance."

"Please raise your head. If one of us should show our respect, it should be me." The Haruno woman's spine straightened as she watched in awe as the prince bowed his head, a hand to his chest as though something there was causing pain. "There is nothing I can do that will ever sufficiently make amends for what I've put you through, but please allow me to properly apologize. Because of my negligence, you've experienced such terror."

'He's...different from Akuma.'

Not only was his personality much less demanding, but his features were somehow softer. Red eyes were a deep black and filled with exhaustion and sadness. His lips seemed unable to turn upright, instead stuck in an attractive frown. The overwhelming, petrifying energy that Akuma often had crackling around his aura was gone, leaving something that felt tragic and self-loathing.

'So this is the monstrous second prince. He's nothing like the rumors.'

If Sakura didn't know the truth of his curse, she'd consider herself extremely lucky to have been sent to marry such a polite and mild-mannered man. His beauty was out of this world, too, regardless of which personality was present.

"N-No, please don't lower your head, My Lord! It's improper!" Prince Uchiha straightened his posture, his brow slightly furrowed as he spoke, "In our situation, I fear formalities and expectations would be a luxury."

'...He seems so sad....'

She very much disliked such a negative emotion on someone who seemed so pure, so she attempted to flatter him, "Above all else, you are a prince of the royal Uchiha family and should be shown only the highest value of respect. It pains me to sense the consideration of your unworthiness."

The man seemed mildly stunned but quickly overcame it. He gestured toward the window, asking in what almost seemed an unsure manner, "You were looking outside. Are you partial to winter weather?"

'I think he's trying to determine if I find the living conditions bearable.'

Sakura lied, closing her book and holding it to her stomach while glancing out at the snow once more, "It seems so peaceful at this estate. I've never experienced such an elegant environment."

"...."

He didn't speak, so the woman looked his way again, only to see him staring at her with an unfamiliar expression. "My Lord?"

He shook his head and changed the subject, gesturing at the book in her hands, "You seem to enjoy literature."

A warmth met Sakura's cheeks. She bashfully brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and lowered her gaze, admitting quietly, "I've found comfort in books since I was a child. My youngest sister and I share this trait."

"Yes...regarding your sister. Would you mind joining me for tea? There's an important matter to discuss," The prince suddenly felt more awkward than before, which made Sakura uncomfortable, but she had no choice but to agree. The pair walked in silence to one of the tea rooms.

Once they were served and alone, the Uchiha cleared his throat, "I understand this topic may be sensitive as I don't have much information to base my questions from." He unblinkingly met Sakura's gaze, his guarded emotions becoming more so, "May I speak bluntly, My Lady?"

She bowed her head, "Of course."

"Everyone in this manor, myself included, believed you to be Lady Haruka Haruno, eldest daughter of The Baron."

'I shouldn't be surprised. Almost no one outside of my home knows of my existence,' Sakura took a sip of her tea to give herself time to come up with a response, 'I wish Father would've at least sent a letter of explanation. Would he wish for me to lie? If I make my family appear negatively in the prince's eyes, it'd be doing them a disservice.'

"I see. If I'd known, I would've properly introduced myself sooner. Please accept my apologies." The Haruno woman steeled her nerves and plastered on a calm expression, a skill she'd had much time to perfect, "My name is Sakura Haruno, eldest daughter of Baron Haruno. I am twenty-two years of age."

She lowered her eyes and voice to answer the question she knew was coming, "I was never properly debuted into society due to my shortcomings. I beg of you not to blame my father. I'm sure his intention was not to deceive you."

The prince's eyes studied her in a way that made her feel as though he wasn't missing a single detail. His tone was straight, "What are these shortcomings you've mentioned?"

'Oh, no. I didn't expect him to ask that. ...What do I say?' When Sakura thought back on all the reasons she'd been given for her treatment over the years, she had enough sense not to reiterate them to a member of the royal family. 'He'll surely send me home in an instant if I answer honestly.'

"I-I hope you don't mind my hesitance to respond. You see, I've been awaiting a chance to speak with you about our betrothal. I fear if I focus on the negative aspects I have to offer, you'll be discouraged and reject me once more, My Lord."

Prince Uchiha sipped his tea with a face that said he understood that she wanted to avoid the topic. He cleared his throat while setting the glass down again, "The Curse did tell you I may reconsider since he's given his blessing."

"...Was he mistaken?"

The room became silent for a very long time while the duo stared at one another. Eventually, Sasuke spoke, but he didn't answer her question, "How much do you know about my condition?"

"O-Oh, well, I know that Akuma takes control of your body at night-" "Respectfully, do not refer to The Curse as though he's a human while in my presence, My Lady."

Sakura swallowed nervously but agreed, "Right, my apologies. As I was saying, I'm aware The Curse has control of your mind and body at night. I suspect he at least is aware of some things that occur during the day when he isn't in control. Other than that...."

"I see," Sasuke sipped his tea again before explaining, "I was given this burden at the age of twelve by a wizard who held a grudge against the royal family. Before his death, he stated there is a way to rid my body of this sickness."

"Truly?"

"Yes. In his words, I will only be rid of The Curse once I lose someone I hold incredibly dear."

"If that's the case, have your previous fiance's died because-" "Only two have perished, neither on purpose."

Her mouth clamped shut in shock, but she quickly swallowed and asked, "You've been unsuccessful in finding someone you hold dear?"

"That is not accidental, My Lady."

'...What is he saying?' "You've purposefully distanced yourself, then?"

"Yes."

'I don't understand. If he needs to find someone to hold dear and lose them in order to save himself from this torment, why hasn't he-!' Sakura's eyes widened, filling to the brim with tears. The prince's gaze dropped, an aura of shame filling the room. "You...You've done this to protect those around you."

'Prince Uchiha and Akuma are two very different people. This man before me is willing to suffer for his entire life if it means that no one will be knowingly sacrificed for the sake of the wizard that cursed him's prophecy. Akuma only cares about serving himself; he said that on his own.'

Sakura took a strengthening breath before forcing herself to be brave, "My Lord, let's proceed with the marriage."

"You understand what you're saying, Lady Haruno?" He seemed bewildered like she'd developed a second head.

"I do, and I'm humbled by your concern, but you must understand that I've been raised and sent here to die." Sakura's throat tightened as she tried not to cry. Her voice shook, but she managed to remain mostly composed, "Until now, I saw my death as a means to an end. Knowing that a pure soul such as yours may be saved in the process gives me purpose I've never experienced."

"You barely know me, Lady Haruno! How can you lay your life down for mine?" A sad smile met Sakura's lips.

She explained, "My mother was a traveling dancer. I don't have many memories of her because she died when I was very young, but I remember her telling me never to live my life as a prisoner." Green eyes lifted to meet black ones brimmed with tears, "I have been discouraged for far too long. I was content to accept my father's order to die by your hand simply so my sisters would be spared. I've been disheartened and nonsensical."

"But now I've met you and The Curse, and it's like my eyes have been opened for the first time," she offered a reassuring smile, "Dying for the sake of someone as kindhearted as you will act as the key to unlocking my shackles. Preventing The Curse from causing destruction to you or others will free me of my burdens, Lord Uchiha. Please allow me to do this."

'As much as I believe Akuma will protect me, his amusement is surely limited. I'll be tossed aside once he's had his fun. Even before that happens, who knows how many he'll slay as carelessly as he did Butler Yamamoto? To stop that from happening, I can die happily.'

"You are like no other woman I've met, Lady Haruno," the prince breathed out. She sipped her tea with an air of acceptance. "If you're absolutely sure, I'll proceed with this union."

"I'm sure."

He tilted his head with a grimace, "I'll begin preparations, then. If you should have a change of heart before our wedding, I swear not to bear a grudge."

'That won't happen, Lord Uchiha. I've lived a far too tumultuous life. In fact, you'll be doing me a favor by allowing me to be your sacrifice.' 

[sapphicsandscience]

Aster - Alternative (original)

Not sure if anyone here is reading Aster but before it turned into the long fic it is now I originally had a far shorter (and sadder) outline - sending JL and Bev of a journey of healing and rediscovery.

I didn’t end up going with it for a few reasons but had a few bits already written before I changed the direction of the fic.

So this is a little part of what I had written. Might one day expand this into a longer one-shot. But thought I should get it out of my drafts at least.

Content warnings in tags.

~~~~~

He found her on a hill. 

Jean-Luc paused short of her. “Beverly…” he called out. 

It was a hill that Jean-Luc knew well. It was only a short stroll from the house but far enough so it felt as if you had escaped - tucked away behind one of the vineyards - and in the direction of the setting sun. This was where his path had led him. His steps had brought him to Beverly as she stood on the hill, facing out, a glowing silhouette in the remaining daylight as dusk blanketed them both. 

Eventually, he stepped forward and toward her. His voice was quiet and unassuming so as to not startle her. Though he suspected that she, as he would, had already felt his presence. “Are you - “ 

It was a silly question and he managed to hold the words in his mouth despite their bitter taste at this time. He would hold the bitterness and its pain forever if it would help her. However, it didn’t work like that. 

Grief never did. 

Of course, she was not alright. None of them were alright. Because he had seen this image before. Beverly standing in the view of an orange and pink blush that had lit up the sky. Though this time something was missing. It was hard to believe there has only been two months between that memory and this present - and in that time - that a life had come into existence and then left them behind. 

Someone was missing. So small yet so felt.

Beverly’s shoulders dropped as he moved closer to her. “I was just thinking,” she said softly, gazing into the landscape ahead of them. “Taking in the view,” she turned to him with a gentle smile, though the light bounced around in her wet eyes as she looked at him. 

He smiled back. “Penny?”

Beverly rested her head on his shoulder as she looked back out. “It is one of my favorite things - watching the stars while there is still light,” she uttered quietly. It was peaceful around them, nature was in balance, and there was no need to raise a voice. “Something is different about them in the dusk…the way they glimmer and move. And I know we have long reached them…but from down here they feel -”

“Untouchable,” he finished her sentence. “However, not in a way that is unpleasant. In a way that is -”

“Everlasting,” she said. “At least - in this perspective. As we stand here now.”

Jean-Luc nodded, wearing a small hole in the gravel with one of his feet as he stood. “You know, often as a child, I came to this very spot, at a similar time of day, and looked up at those very stars…”

“You looked for your mother,” she replied, a wind passing over them both as she spoke. Beverly wrapped her cardigan around her midsection tighter. “You told me the last time that I stood here,” the same gentle smile fell upon her lips - a sadness interlaced with the acceptance. 

That they would smile again. Despite everything.

His throat tightened. “Yes.”

“And now. You can see them both.”

Jean-Luc tightened his arm around her, bringing her in as close as possible to his own body. As he had done so in those early hours. Tried to protect her against was what not going to be. Held her as she cried for a future they had both grown into and as she struggled to tell him just what was happening. They were hours that were now burnt into his mind. Hours that - beyond the science that grounded them both in their lives and careers - still brought him here now. 

He looked up. And she followed his lead. 

Aster.

A star. Among the many.

He felt Beverly swallow, her arms coming to cross around her chest. “It was something special,” she began to speak again. To him and the stars between them. This was for no one else. But their family. Something sacred. She exhaled shakily. “Our baby was special. Jean-Luc, I do not know if we could ever replicate that again. Or if I want to.”

He understood. 

“This baby…our baby…did so much for us without taking his first breath. He taught me about myself and he would have taught me so much more. He brought us closer and gave me a glimpse of a future I had never imagined would be within my grasp. And for those weeks, it was, and I will treasure them forever. And I know that now, with him up there, I have all that I need to complete me, Beverly. As long as I am with you.”

[nycteres]

Ira Deorum

WIP Prologue for longer fic | Fandom: BG3 | CW: Mildly implied child neglect.

Trying to actually write my dumb little BG3 Protag fanfic. 😭 Idk how far I'll get but i needed a place to store this that was easier than google docs lmao.

Bards and poets alike - the egocentric windbags that they are - have often said, ‘Home is the first grave’.

Aphrodite walks down a dirt and clay road - one she hoped she’d never have to set foot on again - and tries to put the saying out of her mind.

Red road dust licks at her heels. It’s clumped along the straps of her sandals, adding new grit with every step for the last several miles. The hem of her skirt is similarly soiled, clay and linen tangled together, swishing around her ankles sad and deflated.

Half-buried before she’s even reached the doorstep.

By the time the farmhouse comes into view, her tail drags across the ground. It carves little furrows, kicking up more dirt; covering the vibrant purple of her skin with a layer of rusty brown. It hooks on stones and pebbles and she lets it. A yoke she must drag forward. Feeling less like a Tiefling and more like a workhorse with every step.

No one greets her, not when the steps groan loudly at her weight. Not even when the door swings open on tired hinges, with a protesting creak.

Her mother stands in the kitchen, in the same spot she always has, as if she’d never left it in all those years. Sorting beans with quick hands and a tired air.

“Oh,” She startles when seeing her. Bringing a hand up to her chest and letting loose a dramatic sigh. “You gave me a fright there, we weren’t expecting you till tomorrow.”

“I walk fast,” Aphrodite says, doing what she must. Laying her pack down on a nearby chair and folding her mother into a hug.

She’s just a small as she was last time. Fitting neatly into the space at Aphrodite’s shoulder, hands creased and rough as they fiddle with her blouse, fastidiously tugging at garments that are still well in their place.

Her mother’s complexion is of a similar color, if faded by time and sun. Not an eye catching, violent purple, that Aphrodite takes pain to contrast against fine silks and glittering metals.

Her coloration is almost dun. A muddy violet, chapped and wind worn, one that looks dull even against Aphrodite’s third best traveling cloak. The one made of sensible, dark brown wool. The kind that wont offend her parents with its excess. It’s only concessions to her tastes being the scarlet flowers one of the acrobats in her caravan had embroidered around the hood.

Everything in the farmhouse is muted and weathered. The hug is too, even if Aphrodite lingers out of the vague sense that this is what she owes, as a daughter. Whether she wants to give it or not.

They break away after long enough has passed. Counting the beats in her head until she can unwind her mothers arms, step out of their reach with pity and gentleness and relief.

“In any case, we’re always glad to have you.” Her mother says, going back to her beans with a gentle pat to her shoulder. “I could always use the help. You know how they are.”

“Hard to forget.” She says, sunny; with a drawling trill to her undertone.

Aphrodite’s sarcasm is deftly ignored. The shelled beans falling into the container in little stuttered taps, like rain on a tin roof. Echoes that fill the awkward silence.

“It’s worse than any of the others I’ve had.” Her mother offers. “You’re welcome to try if you feel that confident. He’ll be in the bedroom. It’s a task getting him to come out some days.”

“Really?” She can’t help but needle a bit. “A seasoned veteran like you, done in by a single child?”

“I said it to that priest so he could write it down for me in our letter. And I’ll say to you again now. He’s an odd one. There’s something off about that boy.”

Aphrodite hums, a soothing two tone sound she uses on particularly uppity clients. Falling into the usual song and dance, an worn groove of Deflect, De-escalate and Disengage.

“Why don’t you show me where he is? I’ll see what I can do while you finish up.”

Her mother shoots her a particularly nasty and tired look. One that says that Aphrodite knows exactly where the bedrooms are located and should need no guide.

She doesn't back down, but rolls her eyes. Leaning against the solid oak dining table. One of the few pieces of furniture that doesn't look like it’s old enough to have seen the second sundering. The one that she sent them money for, when their last table broke.

“It’s five steps down the hall, it’s not going to kill you.” She cajoles with a nasty and tired look of her own. “He’s - what? - three, he’d probably be more worried if a stranger came in without him knowing who they are.”

She gets her way in the end. Even if the acquiescence comes with a disgusted sigh. Her guide stomping down the hallway with ill grace.

The door to the third bedroom is thrown open with little fanfare. When Aphrodite steps through, it’s like swimming against a current of Déjà vu. Old memories superimposed against the current floor plan.

It looks different now than when she was last here. Housing one child instead of several. None of the triplets’ effects randomly clutter the floor. There aren’t lutes and lyres and badly whittled flutes to serve as a tripping hazard to unwary visitors. But parts of it are still same in the end.

Faded curtains, a rickety pallet bed. An endless pile of mended blankets to ward off the chill.

“I’m afraid I offended him by trying to get him into a change of clothes this morning. He’s refused to come out since then.” Her mother - their mother - gives another deep exhale. A new kind of weariness in her tone, surprising after eight children. But maybe it shouldn’t be, if one considers what little time she had actually spent with them.

“You’re welcome to try your hand at it,” She offers with a shake of her head, heading back to the kitchen. Not remembering or not caring that she had asked for an introduction.

Aphrodite shuts the door quietly behind her. Cutting off escape routes. Intimately familiar with which hiding spots a small child might favor.

She doesn’t find him in the chest of drawers, or behind the shabby little dresser in the corner. But the creak of a floorboard alerts her to her quarry. Taking pains to move slowly, she steps closer to the bed, sinks to her knees and shuffles under it as best as she can.

He’s wedged against the wall, pillbugged into a stiff little shape. Horns dusted with all the cobwebs that accumulate near the edge of the baseboards, where no one ever sweeps.

“Hello there,” She greets him, taking pains to keep her voice soft and pleasant.

Her brother doesn’t respond. Watching, waiting. With black sclera and bright pupils, a blazing orange that hearkened back to the eternal fires of Nessus.

Not even the shadows can hide the ridiculous coloration of the rest of him. As pink as she is purple, contrasting sharply against the cream linens and homey ginghams that cover their home.

“Well,” She says dryly, not bothered yet by his lack of response. “At least you got some of my good looks.”

“Fate has preserved you from looking like father, in any case,” Aphrodite whispers conspiratorially, knowing children love nothing more than being included in a good gossip session. “Cherry red is very passé I’m afraid.”

He doesn’t respond. But she can see his nails digging gouges into the wood. Still, tense, quiet.

Aphrodite switches tracks. It's the mark of a good conman, knowing when tailor your approach to the current audience.

“My name’s Aphrodite. I’m one of your sisters. Why don’t you come with me, and we can get you something to eat.”

She holds out her hand, dusty with the filth that accumulates underneath a bed. Prepared to wait for as long as it takes.

Which is a while, in the end. A long, expectant silence. Broken only by the roosters crowing outside.

“I promise I won’t make you change clothes.” She whispers conspiratorially. Playing her trump card.

Basking in the success of the moment. When that little hand folds into hers, and lets itself be shuffled out from underneath the bed, cobwebs and all.

His name is Adrammael. A name that is as predictably long and awkward as all of his other sibling’s names. To speak nothing of her own.

Their parents don’t even have the grace to remember which one of them came up with it.

“It’s practically child abuse to make you write that out, when you start learning your letters.” She says to him one evening. When they both sit inside the run, warming themselves in the sun.

“You look more like a Dram to me.” Aphrodite decides with firm certainty.

If Dram has any opinions on the subject, he doesn’t care to share them. Preoccupied with burying his face into one of the chickens that he’s coerced into sitting in his lap. Making one of those odd guttural, humming noises he seems so fond of, muffled by a mouthful of feathers.

Aphrodite would rather swallow a particularly hot coal than admit to her mother being right about anything, but in the privacy of her mind, she is forced to admit. There really is something off about that boy.

Dram takes to her easily enough despite that.

She takes to him too, despite the myriad of difficulties that have stopped their parents from doing the same.

Chief among them being that he doesn’t speak yet. No matter what sort of threat or bribe he’s faced with.

Dram does not speak, even though he’s of the age to. But to everyone’s annoyance - even hers - he has no problem with screaming. He screams when he’s angry and when he’s upset and when they make him wear certain articles of clothing.

He’ll run away if the dinner contains certain vegetables he’s not too fond of. Crawl under the table to hide when they have visitors. Press his hands to his ears and start up a slew of truly concerning vocalizations if he’s forced into a situation that isn’t to his liking.

He’s a terrible handful of a child - despite having practically raised her seven other siblings, possessing more than enough experience with kids of his age - and there are times where Aphrodite fantasizes about going back to her old caravan. Letting her parents sort this one out by themselves. Learn the consequences of not using any kind of protection for once in their lives.

It’s a beautiful fantasy. If one that falls apart pretty quickly.

Crumbling to pieces a little more every time she wakes up and finds him in her room yet again. Waiting to follow her around the house from dawn to dusk. Trailing after her skirts with a solemn stare that seems out of place on his round, little face.

The thrill of it wears down sooner than she thought. Banished completely when she gets him to sound out a word or two after trying for weeks on end. Realizing that it’s not that he can’t, but that he doesn’t want to.

The way he doesn’t want to try yams and the way he doesn’t want to be around their father any more than she does. Scurrying under furniture when he enters the room. The tip of his tail poking out from his hiding places like an over sized rat.

It doesn’t help that her parent’s fall back into old routines easily enough.

Aphrodite’s here after all. No need to look after your own child once the free labor has arrived.

A resentment that grows and festers. Bubbling over when she sees him scoot a stool next to the cabinets one afternoon. Clambering up to the counter in the stumbling, uncoordinated way children of that size navigate the world.

Clumsy, but practiced enough to manage on his own.

A child who had learned to get into the pantry to feed itself, since her parents were still in bed and she hadn’t thought to offer him lunch yet.

Aphrodite watches him gnaw on slightly stale bread. Letting a solid century of grievances darken her thoughts and spur on her pettiness.

Home may be the first grave, but she's not very inclined to bury the hatchet alongside herself.

“Dram,” She says carefully, setting him down from the counter. Reaching for that foreign power that perches on the back of her mind and delights in her rash decisions.

“How would you like to go on a trip with me?”

Dram doesn’t say anything. Keeps working on his snack with single-minded determination.

But his hand winds itself into the fabrics of her skirt easily enough. Tail twining around hers, more at ease with Aphrodite than he is with anyone else. Despite how little time she’s spent with him in comparison to their parents. Barely six weeks, by the time she thinks to start scheming.

“I think you’ll have fun.” Aphrodite pats his head, knowing he won’t mind too much in the end.

“I certainly won’t. Considering how I’ll have to give up most of my social life.”

She sighs dramatically - heartfelt and whiny - in a way she feels that befits someone going through great sacrifice. Letting it all out before she’s forced to move on more actionable concerns.

“But first, we need to eliminate the chance of any surprises of this kind happening again.” Aphrodite relishes the thought. Urging him towards the run. Letting him play with the chickens while she drafts an amendment to a particularly tricky contract, and tries to puzzle out the worth of a foreign body part.

Fae did have an unsettling lust for such things. One which she planned to exploit in her favor.

[stanfordprepped]

Rebar

Send me a scene that happened in canon and I’ll write in detail how my muse felt in it!

It felt like all in the span of a few seconds, that Sam Winchester's entire world had completely unraveled. Things were going so great. It was like they were finally out of danger for the most part. Like maybe he and Dean could finally find their normal. Like they could get comfortable. He'd even gone so far as to let his guard down, to shed all those walls he had kept himself protected in for years. Then...All it took was one wrong move. One unplanned thing...And it all fell apart. Like fragile glass. Each word, each reassurance, each memory relived with Dean in his final moments was just another fracture in the glass. Another chink, another break. Sam wanted to plead with Dean, to beg him to stick around. And he had tried. God, he had tried. "Don't...Don't leave me. I can't do this on my own." And hadn't he heard those same words before from Dean himself? Yes. The answer had been one to leave his own mouth. "Yes you can." Oh, how almost cruel those words sounded now. And what wouldn't he give to go back to those times now, to relive every single moment of pain if it meant a few more seconds with his older brother at his side. Everything he knew, everything he knew he could depend on was dying right in front of him. But the more Dean talked, the more the younger could see that his brother was tired. He was exhausted. And Dean had given so much for the world. It would be selfish to deny his final wishes, to find some chaotic way to bring him back if that wasn't what Dean wanted. So Sam had to accept it. Had to accept that this would be the last time he got to hear the voice he had grown up listening to. That it was the last time he'd get to see that smile outside of memory and old pictures. "I'm so proud of you..." Another crack in the glass, not that there was much left to crack. His heart was already shattered. Sam was already shattered. Such a bittersweet feeling, words he had wanted to hear for so long. And now he was getting to hear it as Dean was dying. "I love you so much, my baby brother..." That was the hardest one to hear. Because they didn't often say that sort of thing. Maybe they considered such a thing far too soft. But now it seemed silly. A silly reason not to say it back when they'd had the chance to far more often. It was too late to change. It was too late to go back. Before his mind could even catch up to the devastation in his heart, Dean was pleading with him. Asking to be told that it was okay to go. Part of Sam wanted to shout out, to beg him, to say no. As if that would somehow stop this. But again that was selfish.

"Dean...It's okay. You can go now." Sam's voice broke, shaking with the amount of pain that spread through his chest. Like a raw gaping wound. But he had to smile. He didn't want Dean's last memory to be a sad one. And so he held it together, said his final goodbye. And only when he was certain that Dean was gone...Only then did he finally break down into the thousands of shards that he had been left in. Dean was gone. Mary was gone. Castiel was gone. Jack was gone. He was all that was left. Everyone was gone.

[obo420]

[Nocturne No. 3, November Leaves by Hikaru Shirosu] "I don't understand, why....?" Ordin mumbled stepping over the dead bodies strewn across the battlefield, if you could call it that. It looked more like an extermination, family's laying all over the floor. "After all you've said to me... after everything"

"I never lied, everything has always been true. Except for me," says the elven man, his short red curly hair gently tussling in the wind. He has a bittersweet smile that makes Ordin clench his chest. There were only very few things Ordin knew he wanted, Toraq had been one of them. "I have to do it, or.. I have to die trying"

"What are you saying, speak plainly," snapped Ordin. Venom in his voice, his long ears twitching with annoyance, but more likely fear.

"Give me a warriors end."

"What the hells are you..." Ordin stammered, as he crossed his arms and tapped the side of himself in worry. Ordin is not known for showing his emotions often, it's gotten much trickier now that Hydalean has left him though. "I cant... I can't Toraq" he whispered looking down almost shaking.

"Fight me and kill me. We both know I don't stand a chance, love. You have always been good and bright, the moon over a pond." Toraq said wistfully, his grip tightening on his daggers. He looks up at the sky, warm with the fires ablaze on the huts. "It was foolish of me to keep dreaming, I should've confessed my sins sooner. I just... I will never regret our time. You are everything."

"Now. Fight me. I won't hold back, and I know you won't either," he said, finding his resolve and charging towards Ordin. Ordin quickly bringing up his staff to block the blades, but only quick enough for one while the other plunged into his side. Despite everything Toraq had done, Ordin looked sad and scared. His face stoic as always, but this time his eyes betrayed him.

Ordin slammed Toraq back with a huge gust of wind, causing him to fall off balance but quickly dodging to the right as a blast of holy light desended upon the spot, crystallizing where he had stood. Laughing, he vanished descended upon Ordin's back side. "And here I thought I didn't stand a chance," he whispered in Ordin's ear as he held a dagger up to his lovers neck.

Ordin letting out a hitch of breath, very quietly whispered "You didn't" as a large crystalline blast of void energy engulfed Toraq. Singing even Ordin as he stepped back, falling to the ground from the pain of it. Toraq wailed as it felt like his very DNA became warped and strung apart. He felt mismade and destroyed. Crumpled to the ground, his body... burned? No, destroyed is more apt. Parts of his body, his arms, a leg and half of his face felt like sand, crumbling as soon as he hit the ground. He couldn't even process the loss, his eyes fixed on Ordin. Who stared across at him as his own hand began to disintegrate, caught in the blast. He only lost a few fingers, 'thank the twelve' thought Toraq.

It felt like an eternity them staring at each other, before Ordin gripped Toraqs blade and slit his throat. He stared into Toraq's eye until it rolled back and he found his way to his feet. Shaking and stumbling, as Alisae came upon him.

"Dear heavans, I... let us go, Yshtola will handle everything else," she whispered, visible repulsion at the sight of them and the carnage around them. 'To think he was behind it... all the dissapearences.. this entire time' she thought, knowing Ordin enough to know he would kill her if she attempted to speak to him about it.

[imspardagus]

Smile, though your heart is breaking

“Smile though your heart is aching

Smile even though it's breaking”*

I enjoyed one of the great pleasures of my life two weeks ago on Sunday. I sat opposite my son and his partner in a quiet local pub that served good beer, and participated in two hours of easy, life-affirming conversation.

It might seem to be overstating it a bit but I live for these times. They allow me to feel that maybe my life isn’t such a miserable waste of time as my depressed mind so often insists it is.

When they had left, I was returning our glasses to the bar and Jan, who works behind the bar, said how nice it was to see me smiling. And before I could stop myself (a measure of how my normal protective inhibitions had been lowered by what I had just enjoyed) I remarked that I didn’t know that I had been smiling.

It was an off the cuff remark, one of the remarks that are true but should go unsaid. As to its truth, I genuinely have no idea most of the time what expression I am offering the world. People taking my photograph have been known to look up in exasperation and said “Come on, give us a smile.” And I think “I was smiling wasn’t I?” Apparently I was not.

A fake smile is not uncommon though. It is what we are taught to present, what is expected of us. “Say cheese.” I have lost count of how many photos I have seen of people, especially children, especially young girls, whose rictus “sunny” smiles have all the false sincerity of a politician’s apology. “Sing out, Louise. Smile, dear.” “There’ll be no sad faces on Christmas.” “Are we all Happy, Happy, Happy?”

As I have mentioned before, my Mother’s take on my need to tell someone how deeply sad and joyless I felt as a teenager was “Nobody wants to know”. My Father, though he rarely smiled or laughed, went to his grave believing that the purpose (and duty) of the arts was to offer “escapism” – entertainment that made you feel happier for a while. They, of course, came from a generation that had borne more misery than most: economic depression, war, insecurity, deprivation, threat to life, loss of loved ones. They were unfrivolous, studiously serious in so many things, even about being happy. Even about pretending to be happy.

“When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by

If you smile through your fear and sorrow

Smile and maybe tomorrow

You'll see the sun come shining through for you”

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after tomorrow. Maybe never. But at least you won’t be bringing us down.

Occasionally I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror or reflected in a window and I am shocked at the dead, miserableness of the lines on my face. How can anyone want to be in my company? But people do. And they insist that I am “such a lovely man”, which makes me wonder whether they are trying to convince themselves or me.

“Light up your face with gladness

Hide every trace of sadness

Although a tear may be ever so near”

Jan smiles. Not just with her mouth but with her eyes. She does it the moment you approach. And perhaps that is why I allowed myself to be deceived. I had allowed myself to believe that she was genuinely happy.

Which is why, returning to the point after this long tedious diversion, what happened next was so surprising. And why, perhaps, some things should go unsaid. Because my remark had barely died on my lips when Jan came out from behind the bar, wrapped her arms around me and buried her face in my chest. And when, what seemed like a long time after, she stepped back and looked up, her face was wet with tears which she was trying to hold back.

In the awkward moment that followed, she said, “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

I am usually good at recognising hurt and pain in others. As someone who has lived so long by presenting to people what they want to see, to the point that, as I say, I no longer know that I am doing it, I have developed a form of radar for fellow sufferers. Sometimes the signals coming back are so powerful that I cannot look them in the face. Sometimes the shadow is so deep that I have to leave the place where they are. Thinking back, I did suspect, on a couple of occasions when I caught Jan’s face at rest, that she too was wearing the mask, the one we depressives get used to wearing in order to be accepted in company. But probably because I had found it so expedient on this occasion to take her literally at face value and draw on the warmth that she was radiating, I had let the thought pass.

It is easy to take that path. Not everyone wants to be told that you have seen past the mask. After all, disguise is why they have gone to the trouble of wearing it.

Within minutes, Jan was embarrassed and trying to reclaim her equilibrium. Reverting to her natural kindness, she insisted that if ever I needed to talk about anything, she’d be there. I made a stumbling reply that the same went for her. We both knew this wasn’t the time or the place.

Two days later, I met with Lee, Jan’s partner. He’s a nice lad. But he seemed keen to probe me as to my intentions towards her. I said, truthfully, that I thought they were both really lovely people but that I had been unprepared for her to be reduced to tears by a chance remark. “Yes,” he said, somewhat matter-of-factly, “She does cry rather easily.” I made a mental note of his remark and passed on, mumbling some inanities about “not wanting to hurt her” and not being a predator.

Yes, Jan is lovely but truly I have no designs on her. Quite the opposite. Having got things seriously out of proportion a few months earlier, causing damage and discomfort that I had not in my wildest dreams foreseen, let alone intended, I was determined never again to let my neediness trap me into reading anything as self-fulfilling as mutual feelings into another encounter. Rob, my very discreet friend, tried to suggest to me I could at least allow myself the pleasure of fantasy: “fantasies don’t do any harm”. But I’m afraid I know that to be wrong. As I told him, “Fantasies are like farts. Their immediate effect may be to bring relief but their stench lingers on and makes everyone in the room uncomfortable.” Perhaps that is going too far but anyway it doesn’t apply in Jan’s case. I like her very much, I care about her, but my feelings end there.

But the thought of her keeping so much unhappiness locked up inside her is unbearable. And sometimes, when you “cry easily” it is a sign that you are more sad than you wish to accept. Depression is toxic, it eats you up even as you think you have it under control. It taints every chance you have of pleasure. I hope she can find a friend to talk to. I would be happy if that friend was me.

“That's the time you must keep on trying

Smile, what's the use of crying?

You'll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just smile.”

That’s a nice thought. But I do not think it’s the right thought. And I have spent 60 years trying it.

IMS July 2023

*Lyrics by Turner and Parsons

[blessiejustine-portfolio]

[ DRAFTED FEATURE ] Several Banana Leaves Later

I once said that I wouldn’t know how to live in a future that didn’t contain you. But here I am, relatively alive  — years, kilograms, and many, many pastil banana leaves later, the same place where we spent our last days together. 

Certain moments still trigger the memory of you. When I’m walking down the pathwalk under the searing afternoon sun, a thin sheen of sweat on my forehead and back, trudging through the dusty campus you knew so well. When I’m mounting the jeep at the terminal on my way to school — now where I work. I never got the chance to tell you I work here now, the place where we were really itching to get out of, some years ago. Most of the time those moments just remind me of your absence. Sometimes the absence hits me square in the chest, hard, right in the spot you left behind. The hole you carved when you departed without saying goodbye, leaving in your wake this world that is now a little dimmer because you took some of its light with you.  I suppose no single person is ever truly whole. Some parts of ourselves are scattered; with the people we love and loved. 

You know the campus looks so different now? There are street lights along the Gemma East/West road now. The road in front of our college has some as well. Street lights! Remember how we used to walk down that unevenly paved, pebbly road, with only our phones’ camera flash as the torch to light the way, hoping to God that there’s nothing in the darkness of the tall grass — natural or supernatural — would come at us? The huts that we used to hang out at are now gone, too, abolished by either depreciation brought about by time or physically replaced by stalls that sell pastil that now, for some reason, don’t taste the same to me, now that I don’t get to eat it with you. I wonder how much pastil I’ll have eat before it tastes normal again. 

Time is not a unit with which grief can be measured. Grief is preternatural, unquantifiable by math or science, as primeval as the instinct for love itself — “What is grief, if not love persevering?” said The Vision in one of the many Marvel TV shows that I also wish I could talk to you about. Your absence is not just a singular thing. It became the flowers I laid when I buried you, it became my tears, it became the antidepressants I had to take. Now, it’s the fear that keeps me from ever moving out of this city because I feel like moving away would mean completely forgetting you.

Sometimes I wish that these words I write and the sadness they’re built on would be enough to bring you back to life. Or even just call you from where you are, invite you for an afternoon snack, so I could make up for lost time and past wrongs. I hate talking about you in the past tense — it feels like you’re even more absent than you already are. Yet, deep down I know that even when there are no more new stories to tell about you; there will always be the entire lifetime you left: the gift of an unwritten memoir that will keep us warm on cold days and keep us company on rainy ones, the absurd anecdotes from our field trips, the slapstick-comedy moments, even the hard moments that, in retrospect, I wish I had tried to understand more. 

A lot has happened since you left: I’ve met new people, exchanged stories with them in the way you and I did. Sometimes, I make the mistake of looking for you in them. I’ve stopped trying to do that. Maybe I will always look for you. “How often — will it be for always? — how often will the vast emptiness astonish me like a complete novelty and make me say, ‘I never realized my loss till this moment’?” CS Lewis writes in A Grief Observed. Perhaps this is like that.

 In the meantime, I’ll just be packing stories for when we see each other again. Dispose of as many pastil banana leaves as I can until they taste like before. Missing someone is not an affliction, I’ve come to realize. It’s a scar. Something that will be with me for always now, where a painful wound of loss once festered. Most days I’m alright, actually. The mourning is not as bad. I just wish you were still here.

For now, I will love you from here. Until we meet again. ◼️

[dongiovannaswife]

Hey sweets! I'm sorry you've been having a rough time. As someone who has struggled with mental I understand where you're coming from. It's super tiring and sometimes overwhelming. I just wanted to make sure you know you're not alone. It can be difficult to ask for help sometimes, but even if you find that you can't, I want you to at least know, that amongst the craziness you have me and so many others who are willing to weather this storm with you.

Hi, baby! (I hope that's okay aaa)

Thank you so much for this reminder —indeed, it's been a hard time and I'm afraid I'm reaching a breaking point.

Besides, I've noticed a series of signs (not calling them symptoms bc I don't want to self diagnose) over the years and I'm scared to find out the meaning of them all —I'm not a stranger to multiple behaviors and yesterday I was feeling so bad I thought I was going to do something stupid. Fortunately I didn't, but uh,,, I'm trying to say that this ask came in the perfect moment. Reading it made me see things from other perspective. So, from the bottom of my heart I want to thank you, Nani. You're a wonderful person and I just hope you see yourself that way —many people love and admire you, but there's nothing better than your own love and admiration.

Please stay hydrated and remember how amazing you are.

As I like to say: eres un amor. 💖

[lem0nshark-writes]

"The City of Ruins"

Thranduil x Male (elf) Reader

Word count: 2344 Summary: Lost lovers reunite 🌙☄

Warnings: angst at first then fluff w/ smut later on, the begining of smut is marked tho so don't worry, reader's a bottom

🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄

After the battle for Erebor you stayed behind in the city of Dale, it wasn't on your own accord, no. If it were up to you you would have returned to Mirkwood with your king, but you were banished from your home.

Such events came to be because you defied your king's orders to fall back and leave the dwarves to deal with orcs on their own. But you weren't gonna let your friends die, you weren't gonna let them fight on their own, even if it meant going against your king's will.

So you stayed behind, betrayed look on your king's face coming to haunt you more often than you'd like to admit. But you knew you did the right thing.

Many moons passed since the battle and you managed to fix yourself a home, it wasn't much, just a lower floor with a fireplace and a spot to lay on, but it's all you could muster up from the city in ruins.

You took it upon yourself to slowly clean and build around yourself, salvaging what you can of the city. And short trips to Laketown took care of your need for food and liquids.

It was a decent life, but terribly horribly lonely.

Your only friend being your thoughts and a bittersweet longing for your rín meleth*.

(*crowned love)

You feelings didn't come as surprise to you, they've been lingering for a while now but you've never acted on them, fearing he wouldn't feel the same and you'd cross a line. And besides, you were just a regular elf, no royalty, why would you ever be a match for him.

Dark stormy clouds gathered around the mountain and the city of Dale, heavy rain moments from being released.

You rushed to your small home in the heart of the city, arms full of twigs and branches, racing the time against the rain. And you made it in in the last second because just as you closed the door the sky came crashing down in big droplets.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the fireplace, placing the newbrought wood at the side of it and started the night's fire. After making sure it's well lit and strong, you moved the remaining wood on the side for later.

You got up and took off unnecessary layers of clothes and your boots as the room started to fill up with warmth, setting them on their spot near the door.

Fixing your hair up in a messy bun you sat down on your bed and just as your were about to lay down for your daily rest, an unexpected knock on the door broke the comfortable silence mixed in with the crackling of the fire.

You looked up at the door and slowly got up, wondering who could it be as no guests announced themselves for the following days.

Creaking the door open your eyes widened in surprise. There in front of you, soaked in rain head to toe, stood none other than your ex king.

Your shock was soon pushed away by reminiscence of betrayal and old memories that came flooding your thoughts.

"How could you do that to me?.." pained expression pushed it's way through on kings face, trying to overcome the angry one that he tried so hard to keep.

"I already told you, but I guess you've gone deaf on your ears, I wouldn't and I won't let my friends die because you were too much of a coward to fight!" you started slow and calm but by the end of the sentence got louder and angrier, fire of the old argument rekindling fast.

"I am no coward! I did that to save the lives of our people! To save your life!" he growled back.

Anger gushed through your body but you said nothing, staring at his icy blue eyes.

"You might be-You maybe were my king, but my friends' lives are more important than your orders," you turned away, walking deeper into the house.

Thranduil followed, doors closing after him, and looked around a bit, feeling bad seeing how you lived since he threw you out of your home.

"You're so stubborn.." he sighed heavily, "What if something happened to you? What would I do then? What would I do without you??"

You turned around slightly and looked over at him. Worry of past events and what-ifs ridden across his face mixing with anger towards your stubbornness.

"You did just fine.." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking back away to hide your tears, old feelings starting to become too much.

He looked at you in shock for a few moments before regaining his ability to speak, "What… You think I enjoyed banishing you?? You think I enjoyed returning home without you and spending months an months with you nowhere in sight?? You think I like that?? .. When people ask me where you are?? .. Not seeing your face ever day??…"

"You think my soul isn't tearing into pieces without my meleth.." he looked at you, sadness twisting his face into a pained expression.

Your eyes widened at the last part and you turned around swiftly, standing there with your mouth agape for a few moments before speaking, " . . . Your meleth?.."

Thranduil's eyes widened a bit as well after he realized what he had said but then closed slowly as his expression melted into one of saddened agreement.

"You loved me?.." you asked softly.

He nodded, ". . . I still do.."

"Why didn't you say anything?.." you took a few steps towards the taller male, closing the gap between you two almost completely, and searched his eyes with your own.

"I feared you wouldn't feel the same.. and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you if that were true.." he finally gazed back at you.

"Silly king," you muttered through a slight smile forming on your face, " I loved you for hundreds of years, and I still do," you took his hands in yours and held them to your chest.

At your words his face lit up like forest in spring waking up from a long winter dream and he leaned I swiftly, locking his lips with yours, something he's been yearning to do for so long.

Without thinking you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, his strong arms washing away all the worries and making you feel like the whole world around you disappeared.

"Return home with me my meleth, rule as a king by my side, let's never part again," he whispered into your neck.

Your lips spread into a warm smile as you gazed upon his eyes, "I'd like that very much."

((smut continuation from here on))

The two of you settled down on a crapet by the fireplace, setting your journey back to Mirkwood for tomorrow, when the storm hopefully calms down.

You forced the king to take off the outer layer of his clothes to put to dry by the fire and he undid his wet hair too, allowing it to dry easier on the warm air.

The two of you rested in each other's arms for a while, letting the fire warm you both up as you chatted exchanging some old stories and talks of your lingering feelings.

He smiled down at you, arms wrapped around your body as you rested your back against his chest. You looked up at him, returning the smile, "What?"

"Nothing. I just am wondering why we didn't confess sooner," he placed a warm kiss onto your jaw.

"Me too," your eyes instantly closed as he did that, "I guess we are two completely oblivious idiots," you added with a chuckle.

He let out a chuckle as well, "That we are." He grinned and kissed you deepy, passion spilling out from his lips.

You smiled into the kiss and returned just as passionately, cupping his cheeks in the process.

The bigger elf moved slightly, allowing your bodies to face each other, before wrapping his arms around you again.

The two of your kept on kissing, the kiss turning from slow and passionate to yearning and with a lot more tongue.

His hands started roaming your body and soon enough your vest was off, and shortly after your shirt too.

At the motion you parted your kiss and the two of you exchanged a knowing look. And just as quickly his lips were back on yours and your hands now undoing his top.

Once you won the battle with his shirt he moved his lips to your neck, tracing kisses and licks before the same turned into bites and sucks, leaving hickeys behind that ended up littering your neck and your chest.

You moaned on his actions, running your fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle thug on each bite he left on your soft skin.

He moved his attention to your lower stomach, leaving warm kisses there as he slipt your pants off with a single swift move.

You looked up at him, the two of you locking eyes, as you bit your lower lip. His gaze trailed around your body, taking in every bit of it, "Y/n.. you're beautiful.." he said, lust-laced desire dripping off his words.

The tone he spoke in made you shiver under his touch. He gave you a deep kiss and then proceeded to take his pants off too and soon enough both of yours undergarments followed.

He laid you down and got on top of you, kissing you deeply once again.

Your eyes stayed locked with his abs and, well, lower parts, being slightly taken aback by how good he looks.

He quickly caught up on your thoughts and smirked, making you in return blush like mad.

"Like what you see?" Thranduil smirked at his smaller lover who by the looks of it was about to burst into flames from the redness his cheeks reached caused by his words and that smug smirk Thranduil proudly wore.

He chuckled at his lover's sudden shyness and let his hand trail to his already errect memeber.

You gasped softly at the feel of his fingers on you and your eyes closed from pleasure, hand rushing to your mouth to silent the escaping moans.

Thranduil's hand reached for yours and moved it from your mouth, pinning it above your head, "I like your moans, don't hide them," he smirked and left kisses across your yaw and neck once again, as his hand worked magic bringing you all the way to the edge before abruptly stopping.

You looked up at him in wonder, unpleased and yearning for the pleasure to come back. He smirked softly at you and pulled you by your thighs closer to himself and his face went down.

You looked up at what he was up to and gasped in pleasure when you felt his slick tongue move against your hole. You fell back and your eyes rolled in sweetness as his tongue made it's way into you. It twisted and turned inside you, sending waves of pleasure all throughout your body, his hands squeezing your butt cheeks as they held onto them.

Once again you were on the edge of an orgasm and once again he pulled away just as you were about to reach it.

You whined slightly this time, pouting at his repeated action.

"Shhhhhh you'll like what comes next better-," he smirked at you and sat himself up again, grabbing at the sides of your thighs as he positioned himself at your now wet entrance.

You propped yourself up just enough to reach his lips and kiss him deeply, which he gladly returned, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

"Ready?" he smiled at you warmly as you two held your faces close to one another. You gave him a soft nod, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

He slowly started pushing in, giving you enough time in-between each little push to adjust to him in you, moans rolling off your tongue along with rugged breaths.

Once he was all the way inside you he kissed you deeply, distracting you from any lingering pain till it all melted away into burning pleasure.

Holding at your sides he slowly started moving his hips pushing his big length in and out of you, at first slowly before picking up the pace. Moans streamed out of both of your mouths mixed up with muffled breathing between kisses.

"Ahhhh hhhhhngggg…" moans left your mouth one after the other as he picked up the pace even more, hand back on your ass and squeezing it.

Your finger nails raked his back in pleasure causing him to moan your name out between paced breaths, "Y/n… ahhh-."

You moved your lips to his neck, leaving the tall elf an even bigger moaning mess as you left hickey upon hickey against his skin.

He slapped your ass in the moment as he pushed in even deeper, reaching that sweet sweet spot, making you moan his name out even louder than before. He picked up on that and started hitting that spot repeatedly with even greater strength making you melt completely underneath him.

He could tell you were very close and so was he, and with a few more strong thrusts both of you came hard, moaning each other's names and spilling, you on his and yours stomach and him inside of you.

Panting he brought himslef down and placed a loving kiss on your lips, exhausted with pleasure and still riding your orgasm you returned.

He gently pulled out and plopped down next to you, pulling you close into his warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for a while, hugging and unable to reach your breaths.

Once your breath returned to your lungs you snuggled up into his chest and kissed his yaw, "I love you my king."

He smiled down at you and hugged you tighter, placing a long kiss onto your lips, "I love you too meleth."

[rviden]

hello!! may I request for hcs for when you get into an argument with the genshin boys (you can choose who!!) and the guys end up saying something hurtful, and your reaction is like "well, if that's what you think, then maybe we shouldn't be together." and walks away (tryna hide a tear,,)?? I'm sorry if this is too specific aah I'm just in the mood for angst ( •́ ‿ ,•̀ ) I really like your characterization!! <333

— 🧧 THEIR S/O BREAKS UP WITH THEM AFTER A RUDE COMMENT THEY MADE

includes — kazuha, tohma, diluc

warnings — angst, pre tohma release

pronouns — they/them

note — in honour of the 2.0 announcement trailer, i included the newest boy to my writing list (tohma by beloved) - i’ve also added baal (or raiden), ayaka, and yoimiya!

KAZUHA

kazuha wasn’t usually confrontational off of the battle field — opting for more serene and peaceful things while resting and spending his time with you

but sometimes when emotions boil over, we say things that we don’t mean, nor wish to say at all — it’s in the heat of the moment type of thing, which is exactly what was happening to kazuha in the present time

“you don’t get it- you never will,” kazuha paced away from you, wanting to put an end to the conversation station as soon as he could.

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you took strides to catch up with the upset male, desperate to understand his reasoning. “why don’t you face me, and tell me why the hell you won’t let me help-“ the moment your hand made contact with his arm, he turned in fury — something you had never seen him in ever.

“you’re too clumsy, too reckless, and simply not able to withstand that type of battles that would occur!” kazuha’s face was mere inches from your own. “you’re just not enough.”

you weren’t enough.

he was talking about physical ability, but... why did it feel as if he was talking about everything — the way you dressed, the way you acted, the person you are.

he didn’t think you were enough.

“... if- if you think so lowly of me, then i don’t think this is going to work,” your feet slowly brought your body away from the now shocked and calming male, trying to put as much distance as you could between the two of you.

“y/n-“ he reached out for your arm, only to pull back as if he had been shocked as you flinched away from it. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“well that’s what it sounded like kazuha.”

you never called him kazuha — it was always kaz, or some other nickname — but never kazuha.

“i’ll leave you to your business, and i’ll board with beidou in the morning,” the distance grew greater, and hearts cracked piece by piece. “i hope you find someone who’s enough on your travels.”

kazuha’s heart left with you — the emptiness in his chest product of his own doings, his own words.

it seemed that he was the one not enough for you.

TOHMA

tohma didn’t like to fight, argue, or even cause any sort of pain to you — and in the past if he ever did, it was not by his choice, or it was a complete accident

yet here he found himself, spouting words he didn’t mean, watching the look of anger on your face crumble into hurt and betrayal

tohma was tired — beyond even — with the job that he possessed, and the dedication to match, nights were often spent resting and resetting for the next.

“y/n i really don’t have time for this right now, you know this,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to rid himself of both the anger and headache that clawed at his mind.

“i think you have plenty of time right now — all i’m asking is for you to consider my idea,” you stepped closer to the blonde, brings your hands up to run through his hair in order to help calm him down. “i just want to see you a little more often, even if it’s only a day a week — just more then i see you now-“

his head was yanked away from your hands, and his eyes burned into you like the vision that hung on his hip. “for the last time! i have my duties with the kamisato clan, and they need my dedication and focus — i don’t have time to waste.”

his words didn’t fully click in his head, until he saw your eyes widen in both shock and hurt — and all he could do was watch as your body slowly backed away and shrank into itself, becoming smaller and smaller by the second.

you tried to appear bigger in mere moments after the metaphorical slap to the face — your chin being held high, eyes narrowed, and drawn in tight.

“don’t bother coming home tomorrow, or the nextday, or even the next,” he could see the hurt as you tried to keep your composer. “wouldn’t want you wasting time, now would we?”

“y/n-“

“leave tohma — you have your duties, remember?”

it happened too fast for tohma to handle — one minute you were happily chatting, next the argument broke out, and the next, he had broken the one promise he had made to himself and you.

he had hurt you, one too many times.

DILUC

he was a calm and collected man, trying many other options before it truly came down to a fight — he poked and prodded most times during arguments, but never before had he pointed out things he knew would hurt

maybe that’s why he wasn’t only in shock as he watch the anger turn into sadness and thought, but also at the words that seemed to flow out of his mouth like a river

“dee, please take a break,” your hands worked on his shoulders — thumbs pushing on the knots and sore spots in the muscles, trying anything you could to get the red haired man to relax.

“y/n please — i’ll come to bed in a few more minutes, i just have to finish this-“ the quill was plucked out of his hands before you could finish — now dangling between your own fingertips.

“you said that the yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that — i know you dee — like that back of my hand,” you waved the back of your hand in an example, the smile on your face doing nothing to ease the furrow in his brow.

he was committed to finishing paperwork and documents — and if that meant forgoing a few nights of actual rest and calmness, then so be it.

but you were making that difficult.

“give me that,” diluc harshly grabbed the quill from your hand, not caring or registering if he had hurt you in the process.

he turned back to his work as soon as it was in his hand, but the moment didn’t last long.

“diluc-“ your hand reached down for the quill again, but were quickly shoved back as he stood from the chair.

“would you just give me some space!” his eyes and cheeks gleamed red, similar to the colour of his hair. “i can’t get any actual work done when your clinging to me like an animal in heat!” in the moment, diluc didn’t care if he had hurt you, and that was one of his many mistakes in that moment.

the quietness was tense and uncomfortable — dilucs heavy breathing, and the sound of soft fidgeting being the only things that could be heard.

“i’ll leave you be then,” you turned in that moment, the tears running freshly down your face the second your back was to the man.

diluc didn’t panic at first.

he had hurt you, yes — but you would let him cool down, calm, and finish was he was doing. that was all.

but the empty room that was once occupied by two and the quick feet that turned and walked in the other direction every time he was near — was enough to tell him the truth.

you left him to be on his own.

for good.

[danger-noodle-uwu]

I'm new to tumblr so is this how you do request? May I request the brothers forgetting mc's birthday and later remembering it. How would they react? Maybe they were busy or something. Your choice if you wanna do the dateables too.

Trigger warning

Mentions of Angst/sad/slight comfort

Lucifer

Busy almost all the time, the first-born barely spent time with our dear Mc. He would try to finish the work only for more to be slammed on his desk.

Never would his brothers acknowledge his efforts or the sacrifices he made for them. Instead they'd mock him. Mock him for being absent at all family times. Mock him for doing what he does.

It was once again such a time, such a day. They didn't bother to care what the day has held for his beloved. It was their birth.

The birth of the one who truly changed his life along with his brothers. It was such a blessing yet he forgot about it. Entirely.

The Avatar of pride was strong, Lucifer wasn't. He was weak. Vulnerable. Especially against his brothers whom he adored with his entire being.

And the mocking words had stabbed him deeply, which made his current state as to how it was. Drunk. Wounded. Crying.

Rubbing his eyes, he awoke to a mess of his office which screamed the need for cleanliness.

During the process, he found the calender. A sweet calender gifted him by his doll.

A smile had crept on his face as he lifted it for what? Perhaps to calm the unsettling feeling in his bones that told him to run but where he didn't know?

While their lover was, Mc wilted much like a delicate flower would if the sun stopped shinning, they were laying curled on the floor of his room. Mc needed him.

How could he forget his own lover's birthday?! even after he promised... it hurts.. so much...

Yesterday. The poor human cut the cake wished themselves a happy birthday when he didn't...crying...in pain...

The realization hit hard. He ran to Mc's room as fast as he could. A shiver ran his spine and the horror in his stomach grew as each and every step was taken.

Yet could not find them, so he went over to his office expecting a fuming Mc.

He was once again not right, for his beloved was breaking down as he took them into his arms. Consoling.

He apologised and comforted them. Reassuring them over and over again. Reminding them his heart still is with them and no-could ever take it away.

He later threw a party, just like how you wanted. You. Him. And the growing fragrance of the candles surrounding you both.

Though late as it may have been, it was the best birthday the innocent human had. Smiling while he kissed your knuckles, he asked for your hand in marriage.

Never had you expected this...

"I Found the reason for my smile, the day I found you. Will you let me be the reason for your smile and marry me, my love?"

Mammon

As most had expected, he forgot your birthday due to witches or the modeling gig, he did not.

Instead he forgot about preparing your birthday gifts. His excitement had always gotten the best of him.

The Avatar of greed did not have enough budget to prepare the gift you dearly wished for, therefore multiple part-time jobs and skipping RAD became more often.

Despite the scolding, he didn't bother and worked on, just imagining the smile you'd make once you saw what he got you.

''I'll make Mc smile. Just one more hour extra and the budget would be*chef's kiss* '' he thought as his co-workers packed their belongings up.

It was late night and the moons shined brightly over the streets of devildom however he wasn't much worried because it was not like your birthday the next day. (it was)

Stretching his arms, he woke up around 1:35 pm due to his fucked up sleep schedule, only to be greeted by your excited figure cuddling him.

Grey-haired demon thought it was the Delirium before the day itself. He was wrong.

At first he acted totally oblivious to the fact any special day was just around the corner. He knew that surprises even more better!!

And then your great mammon ignored you for a while to rid of the risk of you following him to the destination.

Though his plan was to get your hopes down, he ended up making you cry. It hurts a lot especially when the love of your life forgets your birthday afterall you gave him everything he wanted on his.

The visit was successful. He even had extras left to treat you!!!

The was big achievement for someone who hated working to the slightest, to work for 3 weeks and multiple jobs!!!

But before he left, the seller mocked him about being a damned day late for this gift could have been sold at a better price if not booked.

That is when it all clicked and he panicked. Today was your birthday! Oh shit!!

He rushed home back to you. As he ran, he planned how to ask for your forgiveness.

" Oi Mc I'm sorry!--Oh hell no!!" "Mc I fucked I am sorry, please forgive afterall I'm your first man.--fuck this shit imma just play smooth."

Panting, he paused right before the door of your room and knocked lightly. Seeking your permission to enter.

You lazily opened the door for him, tired after shedding many tears for him.

Mammon instantly knew what to do. "Oi Mc I'm sorry for not wishing ya' a happy birthday earlier but I was busy buyin you somethin', here darlin' close your eyes."

Hearing his apology, you felt oddly happy and followed his request. Soon you felt a soft cold metal cling to your wrist. A bracelet, huh.?

"Open y'er eyes, human." On your wrist was bracelet that said 'His human' and another matching one was on his wrist which said 'Their stupid' . (Now isn't that adorable?)

"I was savin' up for this, so ya' better appreciate it. Hmph!" Giggling you yelled 'I love you' at him making him blush immediately.

However, when he spoke, he spoke genuinely and not in tsundere.

"Ya' make my life worth living. You bring smiles to my face, and y'er touch shows me how much you love me and care for me. Y'er my friend and my lover. Happy Birthday!"

Leviathan

With envy filled to the brim, Leviathan was very focused upon you and having your attention only for himself. To not let anyone snatch you away for they could better be than him, he'd make notes to treat you like royalty and improve his guilt-tripping habits.

Guilt, regret, shame. His heart screamed within the confines of his chest, as he rubbed your back assuring you that he still loved and will continue to do so.

It was his envy. It had always been his envy. Who always held him captive like a bird in a cage, he struggled to break free. He just couldn't.

The fault was his for if he hadn't given in to the jealousy named poison, you would be happily celebrating your birthday rather than crying in his embrace.

The fault was his for if he hadn't screamed at your friends who just came to congratulate you about getting in a relationship with the demon you very much loved and to wish you a birthday.

They left because of him. Not because he humiliated them but he forgot his own lover's birthday and called them a pathetic cheater, as they didn't feel like reminding of what the day was. They had left off with their friends, returning at HOL at night only to get yelled at.

Caring friends as they were, they tried convincing Mc to leave which his love refused. So, they left pitying the poor human.

No-matter how much Mc begged her companions to stay, they didn't.

Oh the suffering for His Normie, they ran upto him vulnerable-ly and started hitting him weakly, breaking down. Why was he? Why was he like this?! Why must he always leave you crying due to his envy?!

"Hey easy...calm down please, I'm sorry. I really am sorry, please forgive me and I promise I will make everything right. Please." "How..?" "Please trust me. My love." "Are you sure..?" "Yes...yes...I love you..."

Could you really trust his statement? You wondered. He could forget his word much like how he forgot your birthday.

The great admiral of hell's navy was true to his word, and successfully united you again with those who almost abandoned you or it seemed like--but no they were just disappointed. They were never going to do such a thing.

The meet went smoothly, and soon the the sun was setting casting shadows along with dying light, it was a dreamy sight for anyone.

Leviathan had known that he still had to make upto you properly and therefore, he took you to the cosmos of frodane.

Red, blue, yellow, any colour you could possibly think of was there, shining as brightly you were.

Taking in a shaky breath, the Avatar of envy gave you a bouquet, each flower consisting different scent which complimented the other.

The shimmer in your eyes gave you away and he gave you a sweetly addicting kiss while mumuring...

"I always cause some mess. It is never your fault. I’m sorry for making you feel unhappy. I cannot believe that I cause hurt to you. You are my only hope for my life. I promise you that I will do my best to make a better version of myself for you, my 3rd waifu~"

-------------------------------------------------------

And here we go... the pain and the suffering. Lol

Hope you like it and stay safe everyone. ♡♡♡

Have a good day!

[itsstrawberrymochi]

Hi, I love your content so I wanted to request something! Could you do headcanons with the hashira’s x gender neutral reader(- muchiro ofc) where they find out that the reader self-harms? If this makes you uncomfortable at all please delete it!

Kny pillars reacting to their s/o who self-harms

Awww thank you anonymous that means a lot to me hope you enjoy this also thx for reading my request rules when you said minus Muichiro ^^

Characters: all pillars expect Muichiro

Warnings: Mentions of self-harm and suicide

Note: if you or anyone you know is doing this activity please seek help with people you trust , it may seem that self harm is the best distraction but it’s really not, it’s only a temporary relief and you don’t deserve to always go through that pain ❤️

Giyuu

🌊- Now it took him a while to notice this

🌊- Don’t get him wrong, Giyuu loves you and all but he just assumed the injuries were from a demon after all that’s what you told him you had to no reason to lie right?

🌊- When he found out the truth he got extremely sad, he also got mad at himself for taking so long to notice

🌊- When he finds out he wouldn’t dare shout at you or make a scene out of it, instead he’ll calmly approach you and ask what’s the matter

🌊-If you don’t tell him right away he won’t pressure you to do so instead he’ll wait until you’re ready to talk

🌊- He’ll just sit next to you calmly in silence for hours and hours until you’re finally ready tell him

🌊- When you tell him the reason he would start to try and find a solution for the problem so you can feel better

🌊- He would also pull you in a soft hug and just let you cry on him while listening to you tell him what’s wrong

🌊- Giyuu would alway try his absolute best to make you feel better and he’s very serious about the cutting/harming and does everything in his power to try and make you stop

🌊- He’s extremely afraid that one day you’ll go beyond self-harming and he doesn’t want to lose you

Rengoku

🔥- A literal angel that was sent from heaven

🔥- Rengoku would immediately notice that you self-harm, he is extremely observant when it comes to you so he’d be quick to realize

🔥- Like Giyuu he wouldn’t pressure you to tell him what’s the matter but he’ll wait until you’re ready to say

🔥- Rengoku would make sure you know that it’s not you vs the problem but rather you and him vs the problem

🔥- He’ll make sure you know he’s there for you and whatever problem there is you don’t have to go through it alone

🔥-He also isn’t the type to give you words such as “ it’s ok this problem will pass” or “you’ll get over ”, but rather say “ Don’t worry my little flame we will find a solution to the problem no matter what”

🔥- If you’re feeling helpless or upset and feel like self-harming again he’ll drop everything he’s doing to talk to you and try and calm you down

🔥- Rengoku would allow you to talk to him whenever. He would never tell you to go away or say he’s too busy. He’d also let you talk to him for hours it doesn’t matter to him just as long as you feel better

🔥- There are often occasions where you would be laying on his lap and he’ll gently rub your back as you cry and rant to him

Shinobu

🦋- She’ll notice right away, she’s a medic so she can tell the difference between real injuries and self- inflicted ones

🦋- She would become heartbroken to know you were so sad you felt the only way to feel better was pain

🦋- She would make all the butterfly girls leave and go to another room so she can talk to you in private when she found out

🦋- Even though some scars are already healed she would kiss every single one of them

🦋- She does it because she wants to ‘kiss it better’

🦋- She would place bandages and medicine all over the new cuts so they can heal properly

🦋- She is very patient with you, she understands that you won’t stop your self-harm just like that so she’ll take her time talking to you and helping you get over it

🦋- She would alway check up on you and whenever she does she always has some tea or your favorite food ready to talk and listen to you

🦋- She always encourages you to tell her you’re true feelings and never makes you feel emotional or dramatic for it

🦋- If she knows she’s going on a really long mission and won’t see you for while she’ll ask Kanao or one of the butterfly girls to check up on you but if you don’t want them to know about it she would keep it private and she’ll just constantly send you letters instead

Mitsuri

💖- When she found out she talked to you as soon as she could

💖- She found out during a pillar meeting when your sleeve accidentally lifted up showing all the unnatural scars

💖- She had waited after the pillar meeting, when you two were in private to talk about it. She knew you clearly didn’t want anyone to know so she was sure no one was around

💖- When she asked you about it she couldn’t help but break down crying, Mitsuri would blame her self for your self-harming and feel like she did something wrong to you but you’ll explain to her that it wasn’t her fault but she’ll still cry because you were hurting all this time and she didn’t know.

💖- Her number one method of helping you heal is showing you lots and lots of love and care and showing you she is there for you

💖- So that basically means more sweets, more tea parties, hugs and kisses,more l love you, her complementing you all the time etc

💖- She had also bought you a bunny, so if she ever went on long missions you’ll always have “ someone” to talk to.

Sanemi

☁️- At first he would be kind of angry. Angry at himself for not noticing and angry at you for not telling him

☁️- Genya was the one who had told him , Genya being your worried younger brother in law couldn’t stand by and watch you do this to yourself

☁️- Sanemi’s first thought was to yell at you for doing it but then he thought you’d probably be afraid to talk to him about it if he did

☁️- He’ll burst in your room and yell “Y/N I KNOW YOU INTENTIONALLY HURT YOUR SELF”

☁️- You expecting him to yell about it prepared for more but when he reached you he just shoved your face into his chest and pulled you in for a soft hug

☁️- He’ll then say he was sorry you had to go through all this pain alone and sorry that he wasn’t there for you

☁️- He’ll allow you to cry on his shoulder for as long as you’d like

☁️- He wouldn’t care that you’re messing up his slayer uniform nor how long you’re crying for

☁️- While you’re crying he’ll reassure he is now and will forever be there for you and he’ll also reassure you and you can tell him anything

☁️- This wasn’t the only time he allowed you to cry on his shoulder,after the one time you cried he wouldn’t easily dismiss the matter but instead constantly bring it up to make sure you’re getting better

Obanai

🐍- He’s a very observation person especially when it comes to you so he’ll notice your self-harming rather quickly

🐍- He was very patient with you, so the first time he asked and you didn’t tell him he waited until you were ready, like Giyuu he didn’t force you to talk about it.

🐍- When you two did talk about it he never judged you or made you feel bad for doing it, he never called your self harming ‘ attention seeking’ or called you dramatic for doing it

🐍- instead he’ll empathize with you and try to understand why you’re doing it

🐍-Obanai is definitely not one to show physical affection, he rather shows he loves you through words of affirmation BUT If you ever need him to hold you or hug you he’d be more than glad to do it

🐍- He’ll alway hold on onto you and assure you he’ll try and help you solve the problem

🐍- You’ll also have Kaburamaru to be your support snake he’ll alway wraps hisself around you or rub his head on your check to try and make you feel better

🐍- Obanai always try his best to make you feel better and he will near you every second of the day he’s right next to you to because he wants to be a constant reminder that you’re not alone

Uzui

🔊- It was own of the wives that told him about it

🔊- Uzui would immediately blame himself he would think you were probably upset that he was giving one of his wives e attention than you

🔊- He’ll then immediately go to you and apologies for it but then you’ll explain to him that’s not the reason. He’ll then feel relieved but immediately worry knowing there’s something making his love sad

🔊- He is the type to not assume what would make you feel better but would ask you how he could help. He’d ask if you want to talk about it with him, if you wanna talk to someone else maybe one of the wives, if you wanna be left alone, if you want a support animal ( yes willing to get you a cat/dog/lizard etc to make you feel better 😌)

🔊- He would kindly ask for you to give him the weapons you use for self-harm, he refuses to do it by force because that’ll make matters worst, if you don’t give it to him the time he’ll constantly ask for always in a soft and calm voice

🔊- If you’re a slayer he’ll even go as far and take away your sword he’d only give it back if he’s sure someone else is going on a mission with you and they can watch you or if he’s going

🔊- He would also get all of his wives to separately talk to you and try to make you feel better

🔊- Uzui allows you to cry on his shoulder if you ever need it and he’ll gently pat your head or rub your back

Gyomei

🪨-He would cry as soon as he found out

🪨-Like Shinobu he would be extremely heartbroken and his heat would weep for you

🪨- He absolutely hates the fact that you hurt yourself and would always cry thinking about it or if he hears you did it again

🪨- If the reason you are cutting yourself is because you don’t feel like you are good enough he would remind you of all your good qualities and there are lot

🪨- He’ll also wrap his arms around you and cuddle you as you cry because he knows how much you love it

🪨- Gyomei, if you allow it likes to gently rub all your self-injury scars because he believes you deserve comfort for going through all that pain

🪨-He wound often call them battle scars he does it because he believes that you did in fact went through a battle with many problems and you won

🪨- He is very gentle and patient when it comes to your self-harming , when he speaks to you about it and gives you advice it’s always in a soft and calming voice and whenever you rant or cry about how you feel he’ll patiently wait there for hours and let you speak, he’ll only speak when he knows that you are done, he wouldn’t dare interrupt you

This was my first time writing Uzui and Gyomei hope I did good, also this was my longest ever request so I wouldn’t be surprised if it has grammar errors sorry for that 😭

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. III

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)

➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)  

➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!

chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”

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“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.

How incredibly wrong that was. 

“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned. 

“Good. You?” 

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.

“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.

“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.

Anything but you. 

“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.

You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.

Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice. 

“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.

Disappointment.

She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter. 

Typical. 

“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?” 

“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase. 

And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater. 

Your mother. 

“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you. 

“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting. 

You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes. 

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.

“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago. 

“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into. 

An argument.

“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated. 

“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”

“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.” 

“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.” 

“Excuse me? Definition?” 

“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two. 

“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back. 

“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!” 

“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”

“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt. 

You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier. 

“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering. 

“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?” 

“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.

“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.  

“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it. 

“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air. 

Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.” 

If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.

Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided. 

But this, this was where your mother won. 

Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading. 

To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours. 

It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable. 

“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.

“What did you say to me?” 

“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!” 

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!” 

“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!” 

“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression. 

You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”

This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face. 

You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound. 

It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known. 

“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this. 

Not at something as undeserving as your mother. 

“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you. 

A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke. 

“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.” 

Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?” 

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.” 

“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended. 

“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way. 

“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands. 

She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face. 

It was too much, she was too much. 

Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.

Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life. 

Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.

It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother. 

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm. 

Taehyung. 

You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying. 

Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you. 

And it didn’t work. 

Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door. 

He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity. 

He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home. 

Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study. 

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home. 

More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways. 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of. 

He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you. 

“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature. 

Taehyung grimaced. 

“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.

He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.

“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.  

“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good. 

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him. 

He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother? 

This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true. 

They simply weren’t. 

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest. 

There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you? 

It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true. 

Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”

“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”

And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer. 

Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it. 

Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you. 

What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now. 

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all. 

It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife. 

Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this. 

He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce. 

Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy. 

He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.

He knew nothing about you.

He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to. 

He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.

 And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him. 

So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened. 

But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you. 

So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase. 

You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them. 

You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride. 

Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this. 

Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.

“Y/N?”

You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?” 

Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air. 

“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.

“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.

“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.

“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.

And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.

Until your last braincell kicked in. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.

And you knew he knew.

“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest. 

It was fucking poetic. 

“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.” 

“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.

It was odd.

“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.

“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.

You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression. 

“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge. 

He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.

It couldn’t be real.  

But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.

You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side. 

“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.

So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.

“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.

Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t. 

“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless. 

“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered. 

“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”

“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true. 

Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away. 

And he still fucking hated it. 

Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so. 

“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.

You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.

Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.

“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.

“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-” 

“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.

“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar. 

And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago.  You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.

Especially if it meant him.

“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word. 

Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before. 

And you really did like the way he smiled.

He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.” 

“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again. 

“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.” 

You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted. 

“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you. 

Did he just call you pretty? 

You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face. 

Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this. 

“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.

“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.  

Those fucking eyes. 

Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.

He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was. 

And he suppressed a stupid grin. 

Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.

Cute, he thought.

He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.

He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.

He was just so beautiful.

You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.

“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms. 

You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.

Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work. 

You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.

You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.

That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.” 

“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.

It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling. 

“Hm?” You looked up. 

“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news. 

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.

You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”

You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event. 

“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad. 

“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.

“I know, I bought one for you.”

You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?” 

“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”  

You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.

“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.

“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.

“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”

“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife. 

“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered. 

“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.” 

“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.

“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time. 

“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself. 

“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”

“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence. 

Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late. 

“Oh shit, I have to go.” 

“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name. 

“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving. 

“Yes?” 

“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house. 

Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it. 

You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed. 

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label. 

Chanel. 

You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain. 

It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp. 

Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear. 

You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt. 

Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it. 

Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. 

It was bordering 6:30 now. 

You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people. 

It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding. 

And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos. 

Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.

You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’. 

It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife. 

So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung. 

You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves. 

The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin. 

You couldn’t stop blushing at all. 

Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.

“I’m in our room!” 

He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it. 

He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through. 

He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly. 

His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone. 

And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life. 

He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.” 

You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.

“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?” 

“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung. 

You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.” 

You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches. 

He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.

And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other. 

He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment. 

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe. 

“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too. 

“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off. 

“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent. 

Peonies. 

He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.

“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome. 

This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.

“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.

“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.  

You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car. 

He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete. 

You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.

You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people. 

Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check. 

“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene. 

“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you. 

You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again. 

And again, it sent shivers down your spine. 

“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers. 

You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown. 

He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today. 

It was probably better to stay silent. 

So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you. 

This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway. 

And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?

You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.

“Kiss her!” 

It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.

“Y/N, look at me.” 

“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.

He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile. 

And it damn well worked. 

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala. 

Huge. 

It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected. 

It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you. 

You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.  

He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies. 

Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs. 

“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.” 

Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.   

“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark. 

“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his. 

“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.”  A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.

“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted. 

“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one. 

“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly. 

“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.

“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender. 

“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit. 

“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy. 

“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious. 

He almost felt like the sun. 

“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information. 

“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two. 

“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.

“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark. 

“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest. 

He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy. 

The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun. 

“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun. 

“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised. 

“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back. 

“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.” 

“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized. 

“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.” 

“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.

“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.  

“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed. 

You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?” 

“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point. 

“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect. 

“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone. 

“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled. 

“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group. 

You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly. 

Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.

“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation. 

“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered. 

“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone. 

“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered. 

Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose. 

It was refreshing. 

“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker. 

“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others. 

“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical. 

“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi. 

“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along. 

“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush. 

“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased. 

“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing. 

“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you. 

You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him. 

You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident. 

Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether. 

He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you. 

“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering. 

What would you say? 

“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again. 

He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned. 

And he oddly felt.. nice.

“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction. 

“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him. 

“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully. 

“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting. 

“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.

Until Taehyung spoke. 

“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.” 

The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you. 

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side. 

“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he  pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!” 

And it only made the men crack up even harder. 

It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant. 

It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall. 

You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met. 

Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings. 

It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles. 

That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura. 

“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard. 

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.” 

“Then why is he here?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.

“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.  

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself. 

“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed. 

“Taehyung, who?” 

“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up. 

Something was seriously wrong. 

You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him. 

“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies. 

Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type. 

“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.

It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand. 

“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever. 

Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.

“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you. 

“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both. 

“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly. 

“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.  

“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice. 

“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him. 

“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them. 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy. 

“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.  

“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.

“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?” 

Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.

You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety. 

Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.” 

This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?” 

“Oh, so she talks.” 

You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.

“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that. 

“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.  

“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.” 

“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash. 

“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes. 

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot. 

Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened. 

“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins. 

But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name. 

“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.

Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible. 

He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.

“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him. 

Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve. 

You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move. 

“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.

“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.” 

Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.

“Tae-”

“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it. 

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves. 

“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”

“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly. 

Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady. 

“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?” 

“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.  

“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again. 

Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you. 

“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly. 

“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.

“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him. 

“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass. 

“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”  

“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.

“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said. 

And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought. 

“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face. 

“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?” 

“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth. 

Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest. 

You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.  

It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it

You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now. 

Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.

It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries. 

But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips. 

He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk. 

Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway. 

“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?” 

“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you. 

“Okay, we’re coming.” 

“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully. 

“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.

“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt. 

You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were. 

Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it? 

Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips. 

Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes. 

He said they were nice. 

You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.

It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it. 

And you already felt doomed. 

You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy. 

“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired. 

You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.” 

“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up. 

“..Yes.” You answered confused.  

The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.” 

Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever. 

You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.” 

“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together. 

“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond. 

They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought. 

“What exactly are you trying to get at?” 

“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.” 

You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up. 

“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened. 

“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation. 

With a snarky last word. 

“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething. 

You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth. 

“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.” 

“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood. 

Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table. 

Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes. 

Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.  

“I said nothing.” 

Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.

And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you. 

He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him. 

He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid. 

“Nothing, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?” 

“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter. 

Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason. 

Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan. 

It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.  

“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them. 

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?” 

“Yeah, too long!” 

“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them. 

The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully. 

“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face. 

“Actually, I didn’t.” 

Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?” 

“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”

“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous. 

“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.” 

Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.  

“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave. 

“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them. 

Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.” 

Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself. 

You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.” 

You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.

And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.  

So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you. 

“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think. 

Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now. 

He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it. 

“People are watching?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self. 

“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second. 

Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace. 

You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips. 

Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks. 

You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened. 

Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue. 

He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him. 

“You called me Tae, you know.” 

“What?” 

“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.” 

And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot. 

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