#damn i already have so many projects in my head that refuse to come out on paper -sob-

[allhailnarusama]

More Mai and Katara friendship in Zutara fics please (there's probably lots I'm just lazy -wheeze-) (optional Ty Lee included)

I'm looking for Katara helping Mai open up and Mai showing Katara how to better aim with her ice and maybe teach her to use knives. Their friendship growing so much that when Zuko and Katara do get together that Mai actually tells Zuko not to fuck it up or she'll be on his ass about it.

[simp-ly-writes]

Lasting Pictures: When We Are Together (pt.8)

Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: John and 141 discover more about your whereabouts alongside the secrets you have been hiding from them. The lies, the cold shoulders and sleepless nights come swinging back in your face with vengeance yet never have such sweet words been shared in spite of it all. Your future awaits on the horizon, now it is up to you to decide who you are sharing in it.

Warnings: 6180 words, slowburn, swearing, mentions of blood, injury and torture.

A/N: I can't believe its already been 85 pages of this story, thank you all for the support! I hope you enjoy the sweet ending of this chapter!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

Back in London at Base

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN- KATE” Price shouts in the office space. An assistant shakes from behind the door with the force these words are projected with, doing their best to not eavesdrop from the hallway was a hard task as the rest of the task force… calmly waited in the hall while glaring daggers their way- not being allowed entry. 

Back inside the room, Laswell shakes her head as it drops into her hands, her elbows resting against the table as her usual bun falls out- her hair acting as a shield. “I don’t give a shit about what any General has to say- that is my squad member, my responsibility so do tell me why the FUCK they are in a differnet country operating outside of our military?” Price shouts out once more before taking a step back from leaning over the station chiefs desk, now walking in circles just in front of it and tossing a hand through his hair. 

Taking a deep breath, Laswell tries her best to formulate an answer without giving away too many details yet the Captain notices this change in her personality. “No- you do not get to hide answers away from me Kate. I have gone off the books, committed atrocities in the name of good- I deserve to know why at least. Or what about this- Kate,” The Captain stills, looking up at the ceiling for another ounce of patience as both of theirs were wearing thin. The boys in the hallway could be heard from through the door, piling question after question on the poor assistant.

Price turns his head towards Kate, casting his chin down- his eyes pointed, “Why was I NOT acknowledged when Dice was Injured on that last mission, why was I not noted on that interrogation- Christ, Laswell-”

“No John. You do not get to make these demands of me in MY office, on my base- I am not a secretary, I am not a doctor, and I am not going to tell you the answers when you integrate me, Captain. You could have had those last two answers if you got your jealousy issues over with and asked the damn lieutenant,” Laswell retorts while closing her laptop, she was taking herself off the clock early for today. Grabbing her coat, John blocks the door with his arms crossed as Laswell reflects the same- eyebrows furrowed. 

“Maybe me and the boys would not be having such jealousy issues if the guys were not here on base to begin with- they had no reason to be originally- and they definitely have no reason to be off with MY squad member,” John restates his points with a more leveled tone, his mouth twitches up into a smirk as he watches Laswell internally battle herself- knowing that the guys just outside would make worse demands than he. 

Laswell sighs out, throwing her coat on a nearby chain before motioning John back over to her desk where she turns her laptop around and shows the thread of emails shared between herself, Shepard and Graves. The shadow company CEO demanded for Dice to be stationed with their team, a token that their contract would be upholded. As the missions dragged on, Graves became more restless-  John shakes his head at this new information, refusing to read anymore.  

“This is why I didn’t show you John. I know you are not a fan of these side-deals but-”

“BUT what Kate, but what. With their background, it is absolutely disgusting that you would make them do this-”

“Well they did agree to it?” Laswell states but comes out more like a question. 

“Did they know? Well maybe with someone of their past, they couldn’t imagine saying no- working themselves to the bone. Fuck, we barley saw them and when we did,” John takes a moment closing his eyes as his voice comes out softer, “I looked past my jealously Kate, I saw that they were healing those memories with em’ but I will not look past them being used. I know where they're coming from, when the higher-ups keep shouting in your ear, demanding more of you until you become a husk. I couldn’t look at them Kate, I-I couldn’t look and see that version of myself reflected again. The rest of us we-” Price stops mid sentence as the door is thrusted open and shut, the assistant now fleeing the scene. 

“We were feeling a load of shit- Laswell. You try and watch someone you care for gradually slip away, burying themselves in work because they ‘apparently’ didn't do enough- and when you do try and see them again, they look past you and to someone else- looking happier than ever,” Johnny states while leaning against a wall, looking out the window and onto the training grounds all those months ago. “Sure it is jealousy, yes we did give the cold shoulder but there is no worse feeling than being replaced and everyone was feeling that in one way or another,” Soap finishes as Ghost only nods in reply. 

Gaz speaks up next, “If we are sharing then, I know Graves is trying to recruit them, Kate. We all knew it- saw it, and it became all the more disheartening when those shadows appeared in our own personal space and then next week- BAM! They are off without a word- I fucking wonder we were having sloppy work recently, there is only so much we can get done while functioning in the dark.” By the end Kyle is out of breath, taking a bottled water from the minifridge and sitting in one of the armchairs across from Lasswell's desk. 

Ghost shakes his head before commenting, “So they worked their ass off, fearing they would be replaced in some way or better yet when another devil comes whispering in your ear, complimenting your good work, showing you friends and pleasures of the craft yet we were stuck doing time-consuming work for no use? What fucking plan is that- no actually, a useless plan that is.”

‘Well then boys, it is a good thing I am sending you off to join them tomorrow if you are done? I apologise, that's the best I can give you now with what I have been working with. I can’t do much if I got fired from Shepard- John. And the best strings I could play was ensuring that they would at least be working with people they knew in the area- I’m sorry for what this has caused. I,"Kate takes a moment, a shaky breath exiting herself, “-I see what they were starting to mean to you all and I am sorry that I was the one who had to take that away from you. But it is up to Dice in the end if they end up signing that contract- we all can only hope they do not.” 

“Like fuck they won’t,” Johnny states, a smile gracing its way across his face as he pulls Gaz up and hugs the man, throwing in a hand for Ghost to join them who only rolls his eyes in reply. John shakes his head, the energy in the room having a noticeable difference as he checks his watch. The next day was not far off in the early morning hours they were in now, deployment was soon and soon was when they would make it their personal mission to have you stay with their team. The past meeting the present, and the present overtaking the past as it should- in theory. 

--

↳ One Week Until Mission “Spill”

When the boys touch down on the tarmac, they initially do not see you leaned up against the back of Alex’s truck as you and Farah share drinks out of a water bottle. “Gorgeous!” Johnny calls out once spotting you as he shoves himself in front of a very confused Alez who pats him on the shoulder. “Hey man, it's been a long time since we last saw each other- how have things been?”

“Been better but we have work to do,” Soap replies while wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he practically drags you to sit beside him in the back of the truck. Farah waves you goodbye as she goes to talk to Price who sends you a solid nod in recognition of your presence. You look at the side of Soaps mohawk with confusion, Why are you back to being so touchy all the sudden? 

As if knowing your very thoughts he gives you a wink before squeezing your shoulder and strapping you into your seat with a grin. Horangi slides in on your otherside as Alex turns the engine on, Köing rushes to shotgun, mumbling about more legroom as you kick his seat and blame it on Horangi who curses out loudly before lightly punching you on the thigh. You wince, gripping your pant leg as you invite Soap in on the backseat chaos. 

“Oh my god! Is that blood!” he yells out with exaggerated gasps as Horangi tries to choke back laughter and Alex politely asks for everyone to, “shut the fuck up.” While readjusting the rear view mirror, double checking that you were not in fact hurt. 

--

Once back at the house, the squads are gearing themselves up as you double check your notebooks on all the information you have collected thus fall, helping Farah and Price to outline the ever-growing team you all had established here. 

“And drinks are on me afterwards!” Matthew announces as the crowd cheers, a few members of Farah's group had appeared half-way through the debrief that you had never met before. You giggled to yourself as quite a few eyed up Horangi and Köing, pulling on their sleeves to get their attention, you pointed like gossip girls to the people who were looking for company. 

 Köing turns a bright red, “Maus-I don’t know…” “Oh come on! Doesn't have to add to anything- you don’t even have to fuck, get your head out of the gutter Horangi- I know that look better than anyone,” you tease out but your eyes hold utmost seriousness. You kept thinking about your talks with them earlier in the week and the aftermath of these next few missions, everything was hanging in the air with this departure's success and yet you couldn’t help but want for everyone here in this room to have something for when they arrived back- in whatever state they would be in. 

Seeing your eyes fog over with the depth of your thoughts, Simon brushes his shoulder against your own, nodding along to Farash speech as you snap out of your trance, glancing up to him with a thankful smile as you point to various entrance points you discovered while scooping out the place through public architectural blueprints. 

With one last slam to the table and a battle cry being placed, Price requests to speak with you outside as you follow suit, Gaz in tow. He keeps his back to you while walking, ensuring that you all are a good ways away from the house before he starts to speak. “Before we go out on this mission, Dice. There are a few things I need to come clean about, and a few answers I would like from you in return.”

You process his words, eyes darting anywhere but his own as your palms sweat, You were not reading to make your decision whether to stay with the military or go after Spill- Please don’t ask about this, please don’t. You nod once as Gaz crosses his arms beside Price, “As your Captain I am disappointed you did not come to me for support when you needed it and I don’t just mean work, love. In that disappointment of mine, I directed it towards you rather than at myself, I misplaced my actions while addressing your old squad as did the rest of the boys. I cannot speak for their shite but what I will say is that, I’m sorry Dice. I was an arse,” Price says while casting his eyes down to his boots, he grips his vest, swinging on his feet and you cannot help but cast a smile at his actions. 

“It’s alright, Price. I-I get it, I was in a downright terrible position and I should have gone to the team but when the guys came around-I… I just got lost in the memories, you know? Those good feelings came back but with the more nights we spent talking to one another… the more it wore off and the more guilty I felt knowing that I left you all without a word…” you sigh out in relief that the dreaded question did not get asked yet Gaz takes that sigh as the start of tears as he races up, encasing you in a warm hug. You smile into his skin as he chuckles at the feeling. John decides to make this a group hug as you groan at the weight of gear being toppled on you before an anxious Alex is screaming from the backdoor like a worried mother, “We are on the road in six people, get your shit together- we have deadlines to meet tonight.”

--

Hopping out of the trucks once more, you find Price standing on a stump as he counts heads and ultimately addresses the crowd. Soon lines are being formed throughout the treeline and comms are declared silent, you could see your first objective as part of the abandoned factory. 

Distant echoes of metal grinding in on itself as trees swayed and groaned in the wind provided an eerie atmosphere to the rising tensions in your shoulders. Standing against the wall, with your NODs on, you nodded towards Gaz as he clipped the lock and you entered the room, to what would be a series of offices. Casting yourself against the further wall to your side and making your way to the centre to meet up with Soap he signals for you to unlock the next door. The first and second room were found empty. 

Yet as you move deepering into the facility, through the various offices that have used coffee mugs and papers scattered across their tops, the sound of running feet can be heard echoing down the hall on the outside platform, connecting the offices to the greater factory and mining pit beneath. Turning your head to see Ghost already holding up his hand, you all pause and hear as the steps get closer. 

Raising your gun to your face as Gaz does the same. You hold steady as the door handle jiggles, Johnny takes cover behind a tipped over desk, resting his gun against its side as he tries to squint through the blinds from a distance, unable to identify the possible target. A few shouts in another language can be heard as they fumble for their keys and drop a flashlight, it rolls across the metal platform as they swear out into the night air and another voice soon joins their worries. 

Ghost stares at the door, gun raised in wait as he eyes you all to hold position. The door soon flies open, you all still hidden in the darkness of the room- observing their actions as they shut the door behind themselves and lean against it- panting out. 

Ghost steps towards the window light, motioning them to lay flat against the ground with his gun as he orders with a strict tone, “Hands and Knees on the fucking ground. On the fucking ground now.”

Gaz dashes over to secure them both, moving them against the back wall where Soap and you wait. Equipping the flashlight on your gun you focus in on their faces and kneel to view their badges as Ghost stands behind you, reading to move in if they pull any fast actions on you. They were cousins to the working family who ran this frontal tree-logging factory where in actuality this is where they produced their newest explosive weaponry. 

Both scientists refuse to meet your gaze before you grab one of their chins, ensuring their eyes meet your own. They portray confidence, yet their shaking knees tell otherwise, “I need you to tell me who else works here.”

The scientist to the man you currently hold shakes their head violently, thrashing their hands in the restraints as Soap places a boot against their body, stopping their movements with a stubble bit of pressure. “Do not try to look at your friend. I will not ask you again, you tell me- or you meet our other friends in the woods- your choice,” you speak in a clear, even tone.

The man simply spits in your face as you drop your hold on their chin and instead force their body upright, their feet slipping against the floors in an effort to hold themselves up. “What a shame, your cousin here will get to go first- let your lack of information help their screams,” you pressure them further as their eyes go wide- believing in your hold to words. 

“They-they are 42 of us here, 10 in staff today- I do not know elsewise to their location. Please believe me- do not hurt her” the man shakes underneath your grip, their shirt slightly tearing as you press them into the wall- it creaks from the weight. 

“That's a start, where are they, where are the 10?”

“I-I will show you,” the scientist counter-offers as the lady nods her head in agreement, “yes, we will show.”

“No showing necessary, you will tell me now- I will be taking your badges.”

“Yes, of course! Of course,  t-they are meeting with accountant in west wing,” the man stumbles to answer. 

“Who is this accountant? Where are they from, who do they speak to?”

“I-I do not know, you will have to ask. They only come to see we do the work and leave afterwards. They are not from here, foreign looks. That all I know, please.”

“Good, thank you,” you offer the man a tight-lipped smile before dropping him to the floor. He groans out as you search his jacket for the mentioned ID and destroy the SIN card in his phone as Johnny examines the woman's handbag and empties it across a desk. 

Finding the other ID and her notebook, he stashes them in his vest before enabling comms for another team to keep watch of the two scientists in custody- they would be needed in court afterwards. 

--

After a few moments and adjusting your gear, you hold up your gun abruptly to the sounds of rushing boots. The knocks sounded at the door follow the prediscoled pattern as you sigh out in relief and open the door for the squad to enter, Simon presents the information gathered as they radio back to base while staring down at the two scientists who refuse to make eye-contact once more. 

The squad leader gives Simon a nod, signaling your exit as you all make your way towards the west wing. Greeting other squads that you find along the way as Gaz stays behind to help dress one of their wounds. 

The metal stairs that you deascened for moan in the wind and shift with the building as you enter down into the west wing. A set of double doors greets your faces as you each take a side, readying to enter the space with a sudden burst. All the lights are on inside the large meeting hall as various guns are pointed up at your face, shouting for your compliance. 

Setting your weapon down in your hands as Johnny and Simon do the same, it was squad 3-5 that stood in the room, already holding a tight control over those yet to be interrogated in one of the private meeting rooms or holding the exits. 

Laughing out as horror exits your system, you hear the all-familiar sounds of John's investigations as you enter the room as Johnny and Simon wait outside. Price does not face you, his knuckles bloodied yet the accountant's face looks a whole lot worse, or well at least what you assume to be the accountant in their… disturbed appearance. 

Letting out a low whistle, the Captain chuckles in response before leaning over. He presses his hands snuggly into their shoulders, forcing them to almost break the back of the wooden chair as he whispers into their ear, eyes flicking upwards to meet your own as he speaks, “Nice of you to join us Dice, maybe you have something to help move this investigation along. Any bargaining chips potentially?” 

The accountant stays silent, only glaring into your eyes as you blink twice back at them, “I know that you murdered thousands with the numbers you love to play with back at that office of yours, just outside the city right? Women, children, awaiting fathers, it's all the same to you- isn’t it? Your wife-” you chuckle to yourself, shaking your head as you saunter around the room, “we had a splendid time after the Charity Gala together. Her moans never sounded so sweet while being stripped of that silky red dress,” you humm afterwards as if thoughtfully remembering the scene. 

John keeps his eyes locked onto yours as the account begins to shift in their restraints more. He moves a gloved hand, forcing them to look back up at you as you walk closer to stand in front of their sat form, smiling down. 

“She told me of how you couldn't make her fulfilled in bed. How good my hands felt in her hair, trailing down her neck of diamonds and right to her stomach…” you tisk the accountant, brushing your hand against John's shoulder before continuing, “then she told me how you had to sell your own manliness to women who only were bought for your attention, sick bastard you are truly. So much so that she found herself in the sheets of not only me, your enemy who made her feel more than you did in 20 years- but the oligarch you work for as well. How wonderful is that- no?”

“You tell lies-”

“Why would I waste my words on a man like you if not only to tell the truth? You are pathetic really…” you trail off while Price smiles, he knows that you both are almost there to crack this man's facade. 

“You are pathetic, your little mind games serve as dull knives.”

“Then what will be said of you whatever would your boss think when he finds out you have been tilting the numbers yet again, but are stealing your fortune to pay off that mistress of yours- hm?” you retort with a large plaster across your face as John whistles out, giving their cheek a good pat before coming to stand by your side. 

“Decision is yours, I have a member of death's door waiting, like seeing the reaper himself if you want a pre-show to your fate or you could choose to put your dick back into your pants like a good ol’boy and wag your tail for your boss- we would love a chat,” Captain Price teases out, his voice filled with grovel from all the yelling he had done today.

A low nod of the head is all you need for evidence of his acceptance before John is signaling through the window for someone to handle the accountant. And by the time you both exit the room, the accountant in cuffs walking out with another squad member before you and all of his people who laugh at his appearance. You notice as Ghost refuses to make eye-contact with you, instead shifting his feet when you ask if he’s doing alright. When turning around to face Soap, he gives you a strained grin, his gun lower than usually positioned by his core as he tilts his head, signaling towards Price, signally for assurance.

A cough can be heard as you all turn to face Gaz who stands with his arms outstretched as you walk over to give him a hug, your gun dangling across your chest as you both shimmy around one anothers gear with a laugh. With your face plastered into his side, he gives a wink towards Simon and Johnny- a look of understanding for their current state as messages are shared throughout the facility- it was time for exfil after a mission well served. 

--

A shake of your shoulder as your eyes snapping awake, you did not mean to have a nap. Blinking your eyes clear, you notice as a corporal shakes you awake then points to the Captain. Price’s eyes scan your own in a restless search- but for what? Tilting your head towards the Captain to signify your confusion towards his actions he patches himself into your radio system while holding your gaze. 

“Do you know if your shadow friends will be joining us for the next objective?”

“Unclear sir, I have yet to hear from their intelligence crews” the title you state becomes knives to John’s ears, cutting their way down to his lungs as he takes a breath in trying to calm himself, already worked up from the earlier mission as you blink none-the-wiser to your word choice’s impact. 

“John or Price, your choice Dice…” John replies with a more flat tone than usual that has your head topping to the side. “Sorry Price, still wearing off the adrenaline from the mission, brains a bit scrambled as of current,” you state with a sloppy smile as he casts a tired one of his own, closing his eyes with a humm, extending his boot to touch your own as you lock your ankles around it. 

Soon Ghosts voice comes through your headset as you look around to find where he was seated, five seats down, the masked figure stared down the aisle to look at you and his Captain while moving his mic down to his mouth, “Had to hold Johnny back from that Horangi guy a few days ago, same can be said about Gaz and Köing. Mop-masked was holding Kyle in a death stare in the meeting room.”

Johnny pipes up to conversation beside Simon as he notices what is being discussed from the reactions everyone is displaying from throughout the aisle, pulling down his radio system. Simon grips his thigh, as if warning him of doing something that has your eyes narrowing in mixed confusion, concern and irritation- what were they keeping from you?

“Al’right, that Horangi fucker. What is his deal, gorgeous? Really had to share some harsh words with him after what he said about you. Can’t fucking believe that you would say he’s your best with the alligations he presented,” Soap rants while rolling his shoulders, as if preparing himself for a fight. 

“Is that why you were being so touchy in the car ride? You only had to ask, quite like your hands,” you ask with a teasing tone, blood still pumping through your body as you watch as Johnny's cheeks flush, the adrenaline from the mission has him on edge as your little stab has him falling back in embarrassment before he rounds his own fireback. 

“Love hearing my name on your lips, may have to come over there so you never forget it,” he teases right back with a large wink as Simon whispers for you all to “tone it down,” as he looks at the various eyes looking between our squad- trying to understand the conversation happening between you all. 

“If I remember, there were some other names you wished me to call you as well but first, do tell me about these allegations,” you press forward. Gaz now joins, offering his side from an unknown place in the plane. “Simon patched me into what's happening. Köing rubbed me the wrong way with his looks, as if he knew something I didn’t.”

Johnny presses the topic further, adding, “Said that I would never know what you really needed from a ‘team’. I don’t regret my actions, Y/N, I will tell you that now. But when they say those kinds of things, and you leave for those weeks when they arrive- leads me to conclusions I don’t wish to face. We acted nice in front of you, Dice. But I need you to tell me before we land, are you a part of our squad or not?”

“Always,” you answer before your brain can keep up, “I talked in parts of this with Simon one day but… you guys are it for me I think. I cannot say for sure after this mission but… I got what I needed off my plate these past few weeks with the past and now I can promise that you have only my attention,” you state with a raised chest in pride. 

“I better have all of your attention,” Johnny comments back, “Alright you,” Simon voices over, taking off Soaps headset and placing it out of reach as you howl with laughter down the line, waking Price up from his temporary drift off, flashing you a smile as you wince out an apology. 

Shaking your head down in your laugh to calm down, you pick your microphone back down to continue speaking, “Look, I apologise to you all for my shitty behaviour, their equally shitty behaviour- really all around shitness that has happened. You all have become my truest friends since meeting Gabby in elementary and friends is a term I do not use sparingly- I must hold my thanks. I will do better to come to you all when I am struggling,” you promise watching as Soap manages to sneak back his headset while Simon sends you a warm stare that has you flashing him a smile, enjoying how beet red he gets underneath his gear. 

“Just, Friends- hm?” Soap questions with a small frown flashing across his features. 

You smile and nod back vigorously, not knowing how to place your thanks into words in a better way than actions. Failing to notice the tone in which the word was replied back in as he leans back against the divider and out of sight with a contemplative humm. 

Simon chuckles at your answer, the deep sound causing your heart to race and our lungs to flutter. How you wished to hear the sound again as you watched his chest rise and fall with the actions while underneath that tight black vest. As Gaz and Price remain silent to the conversation. 

A few moments go by as you all allow the words to sink in. “Do you have a thing for masks, Dice?” Johnny questions in a serious tone while leaning into Simon's side, doing as he does best- lightening the mood. 

You choke on your own spit at the accusation being presented as you stutter for an answer, brain firing on multiple fronts from the whiplash of a conversation. 

“I-I’m sorry, could you repeat the question? I think the lack of air is getting to my head.”

Johnny merely smiles before restating the question as calmly as before, as if asking for your favorite colour or season. “Do you have a thing for people in masks? Notice you know many people that wear em’”

“I uh…” your voice trails off as you contemplate your answer, eyes slowly drifting towards Ghost who stares down your form intently waiting to hear your answer. Yet as the seconds tick by, the lack of answer eventually forms one in itself as you hear Gaz chuckle down the radio before turning himself silent and the Captain coughs a few times, turning red underneath his own mustache as he refuses to meet your stare. 

“Do you?” you question back, partially curious and the other seeking a slight revenge from playing your in this blushed-filled and nervous state. 

“Oh, definitely” he replies quickly before you all burst into laughter and the landing sign is singled moments after, it was home time. 

--

Once back on base, a few days of paperwork are filled out as the days and hours clock down to your next departure. You do your best not to think about it as you ask Gabby for clothing recommendations in your room, she asks you to spin with a wave of her finger as you do so with a groan of frustration. You had been stuck in this endless cycle for nearly two hours now and you had told Gaz you would be meeting him in the lobby in three hours. 

You had gone through your whole closet before you outwords protest, unable to keep to just your facial reactions as Gabby hides behind a pair of shoes she found at the back of your closet between the dozen pairs of work-boots. “It’s not even a date, Gabs. We are just making up for lost time with some coffee, nothin’ more nothing less-”

“And I know where my dad went-okay?! If this is not a date, I do not know what else is sweetheart. Treat yourself~” she sings out before throwing another pair of pants for you to try on. She claps her hands together, fixing the buttons on your shirt as she frizzles your hair. “Have fun, you look like a million dollar baby!” Kicking your butt on the way out she quickly turns around to place the mess she created of your room as you lock the apartment door behind yourself and Gaz pulls you into a hug once meeting downstairs. 

He opens the door for you, helping you out of the car as well and orders you both two teas with an assortment of small snacks for lunch. Conversation flows between small hand touches and the linking of shoes from below the table. You rest a hand against his thigh, watching as he chokes down his glass of water as you cast the man a wink. 

The check slamming against the table has you both stumbling out as dinner time nears, “How about I treat us to dinner?” you say while looking up nearby restaurants on your phone. “Sounds good, love,” Kyle states while wrapping an arm around your waist with a cheeky smile as an elderly couple look towards you both with disgust. 

Gaz watches as your smile falls slightly and you back away. He still walks near you, arms brushing against one another in hopes that you would feel more comfortable again, casting him a thankful smile as you both walk down another block to the small Turkish restaurant. 

You both sit beside one another, sharing food off each others plats as you ignore the endless stream of messages that Gabby sends you, excusing yourself to the washroom- you open your text messages and cough out in shock, “I’m sorry for spamming, you two are probably fucking right now- next time I want in, have fun! Tell me how he is~” Blushing bright red, your fingers rush across the keyboard, scolding your best friend before splashing water across your face. 

Once returning back to the table, Kyle holds his arm up, allowing you to become wrapped underneath its calming pressure, “you doing okay?” he asked you in a hushed tone, lips right against your ear as your blush extends to your ears now. “Just peachy.”

--

When you leave the restaurant and pick the car back up, you invite Kyle back to your place, “It is closer to here and it would be best to not wake the rest of the lads up,” you comment. “If you want me more to yourself- you can just tell me sweetheart,” he teases while running circles into your knee as he makes a turn into your block. 

Leaning over to press a kiss against his cheek, your voice becomes more hushed as you unlock your apartment door and rush up to Spoons. Who looks as happy and healthy as ever, note to self, the elderly neighbour gets a gift. Kyle leans down, giving your pet a quick past before yawning and stretching out of their boots. 

He trails down the hallway behind you, hands on your waist as you open your bedroom door, throwing yourself on the bed with an overtired giggle. He follows suit as you roll over, giving him enough space, noticing this he pulls you underneath the covers and against him. “Thank you, Kyle Garrick,” you whisper out, hoping him to be asleep already. 

“What for?” he asks out in an equally delicate tone, feeling as your heart races against his chest. “For staying with me, for understanding…” you start to cry, unable to find the right words as he kisses the top of your head, brushing some hair from your forehead. “Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart. I am always here, alright? Never question that.” 

He feels as you nod once more and chuckles when Spoons snuggles themselves in the empty space at the foot of the bed, emitting a few purrs as you all drift off into the world beyond.

Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist

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[ochrearia]

Modern Warfare

Me going absolutely nuts insane. Most normal Ochre moment is when I can project all of my loneliness problems onto a character who also has a loneliness problem but at least the character can have people fix it /silly

ALSO YOU GUYS SHOULD TOOOOOOTALLY PUT THIS SONG ON WHILE READING :3

BFs in this one-shot: Yourself (YS) (All of the other BFs are mentioned briefly at the end, but aren't technically here.)

His scars hurt. Sometimes that would happen, on random days at random times, whenever they wanted, they would start hurting. Despite the injury having been healed at this point, and the physical trauma of it done and gone, they would start hurting again. Just to remind him of the things he’d done to himself, because no matter how much good he found in his life all of a sudden, YS was not allowed to escape what he’d done. Though the things he tried to escape usually were what he’d failed to stop, he’d never really cared about the hurt he inflicted on himself.

So what was changing, then, that he suddenly did seem to care?

He could probably call someone. One of them had to have time to spare but he hated the idea of being a bother. Especially over something that a majority of them didn’t know about, and he was not in the mood to explain it. Beefer knew but he was stressed out as it was. Beef… wasn’t supposed to know, but YS had slipped up and let his guard down a little too much.

Was that really a bad thing?

One call away. Always one call away, just like he always was for them. Why was it so hard to let that be true for himself? Why did he have to be so stuck in this mindset of suffering, at some point he had to ask, hadn’t he suffered enough? But the answer was somehow always no.

The scarred nubs pulsed with pain again, pain that shouldn’t even be there. His wings were gone, there was nothing to even be transmitting that pain to. So it got stuck there, radiating something ugly to the rest of his back, making it hard to breathe when it took over his chest. Hurts. Like perpetual shattering in his chest, riding all the way up to his head to make his brain hurt. The inability to focus. They’d all been hanging around him long enough for the emotional connection magic to latch onto each of them. If he didn’t keep his damn walls up they’d all feel it this time.

But it was so hard to keep focus with this damn pain.

Oh, what does it matter anyway? I keep these walls up all the time, even in the times I get to be asleep, it’s so exhausting. YS thought to himself. I wish I didn’t have to. I know it would be so overpowering for everyone if I never put the walls up, I wish the connection didn’t happen but it doesn’t seem like the universe agrees. Can’t dump this all on them, don’t want to. But I’m tired. 

YS stumbled his way to his couch, collapsing quite unceremoniously. He couldn’t even sit back properly, his back ached like a bitch. He laid himself down on his stomach, grumbling and whining the entire time. Oh, he was acting like a toddler, bitching and moaning because of this. Ridiculous how many things could derail his composure. He was supposed to be tough and serious and life stopped him from coming across as that at every possible turn.

“One time, just one time, it would be so nice to not have everything working against me.” YS spoke to no one. “Why do I end up having so many problems, where the hell is my composure? There’s too damn much here. Any normal person would know this is all too much of a burden. I’m not calling them, world, I don’t care if that’s what you’re trying to prove.”

Incredible leaps of logic. Was he refusing to call for comfort because he really did believe he was too much of a burden, or was he just throwing a tantrum for the sake of it? The scars twinged with pain again, making him cringe. He already had to deal with being perpetually tired, why this too?

Tired, achey, bad mood. Several forces working together to smack his head for a loop, thoughts scattered and unfocused. YS let his chin rest on top of his folded arms, glaring at the arm of the couch. Delirium was his best friend at this point. That motherfucker showed up more times than his brothers combined. Fine, if the world wanted him off his ass then he’d be off his ass.

“You know, I almost never let myself dwell on things, like things I want. I don’t think the things I want should be given to me, because I hate myself, and that’s obvious. Why would I let something I hate have the things it wants?”

He was talking to no one. Well, YS supposed he was never really alone. She was always lingering in his microphone. Hah, she probably thought he was acting nuts, talking to the air, being so… un-composed. That wasn’t like him, at least, not since she’d… died.

“Oh, but I want things. I want many things, so many different things. Indulgences. Niceties. I know damn well I am a creature who deserves to suffer and even before then I was supposed to have everything I’d ever need to be happy, but I never did. I wanted. I wasn’t really supposed to do that. That’s how I got here.”

If YS hadn’t torn his own wings off he’d probably have them removed anyways down the line. Angels like him weren’t meant to want things. Not supposed to know what warmth was. Addicted to wanting warmth, that had been the first step of his utter downfall. Because once that had started, he’d started wanting other things. Things he wasn’t supposed to have.

But it was so addicting to want things.

“I wanted you, and I got you.” YS said, looking at his microphone sadly. She glowed red in response. “For a time, I had you. It’s my fault that you had to be taken away so permanently. Because I broke the rules, and I wanted. Wanted you, in my greed, and I took your life with my selfishness.”

YS turned away, biting his lip as the scars pulsed with pain once more.

“I didn’t learn my lesson. I’m still here, sitting here, wanting things. Can’t want things, that will just lead to them dying. But…”

He’d lost her because of his greed. Everyone knew that a wanting angel left to fall down that path would eventually turn into a weeping angel, cursed with eternal tears over what their greed caused them to lose. He hadn’t gotten there yet, somehow, but that meant he’d get there eventually if he kept on what he was doing?

“I want so badly. I thought there were creatures in this world that could be above that, since I was meant to be. I think there still are. I’m not one of them. You know what I want now? Oh, you already know, you keep trying to let me have it. God. So fucking… stupid.”

YS should shut his mouth. No one but her was around to hear this, but that was still enough for his brain to start screaming at him to stop. Not to say this out loud, not to admit it. He was pretty bad at listening to his own brain, though.

“I want to be loved. Constantly, every fucking second of the day, I want to feel loved. I want to be able to bask in it, in such warm attention, and it’s so… stupid. I want everything I used to have, with you, but I know I can’t. And now there’s a chance to get close to it again. Not the same, but still love, and I still want it.”

YS tried not to let his thoughts drift to his other selves, but he failed miserably. His other selves, his now brothers. A bunch of stupid, idiotic, annoying assholes who still kept coming around for him. Why? Had they been given better mirror-walking as a test? To prove a point? Seeing how they would constantly come through his mirror not just because they could, but because they wanted to.

He’d tried to get them to attach to each other. That had been part of his plan. If they were going to have superior mirror-walking, at least they could bother and support each other, and he could slip away into irrelevance until he was completely forgotten. But they hadn’t done that. Sure, he had no doubts that they still traveled around worlds to each other, to hang out and be stupid, but they still made time to come to him. They came by so often, and it made his heart burn.

It made his eyes burn too, no matter how desperately he tried to stop it.

“I love my brothers.” YS breathed, almost overwhelmed. Where was all this space in his heart for love coming from, after being so damn empty for so long? “God, fuck, I love my brothers so much, it’s almost painful to think about. I didn’t think I could feel like that again. Loving someone so much it makes it hard to even breathe, doesn’t matter the kind of love it is, does it? There- This can’t all just be me being lonely, right? We’re dodging around the rules of the multiverse, fucking around and hanging out when each universe is confused as to why there’s more than one of us in it at a time. There has to be some bent up rule trying to compensate for that. I feel like my brain is going haywire trying to understand there’s other versions of me wanting to care for me. Physically in front of me, I mean…”

Oh who was he kidding. He was talking to her like she could even respond. Resting gently on the small coffee table in front of the couch, still glowing her lovely shade of red. His facade was completely broken at this point, having been crumbling for weeks the more his brothers came around, caring for him. Loving him when he swore up and down he needed to suffer. They’d all gotten so attached so quickly, that had to be at least partially due to messing around with the multiverse.

“It’s weird.” YS sighed. “Seeing me in front of me, that isn’t part of me. I can normally ignore it but it’s always there in the back of my head, confusing my mind. Making me want to do stupid shit. Being physically affectionate seems like a universal attribute but it’s like it gets sent into overdrive when they’re in front of me. Like I need to hug them and not let go. Like… what’s me doing without me? Some weird instinct to try and become whole again when I was never fragmented in the first place…”

He himself was to blame for it anyway. He’d been the dumbass to cross between worlds in the first place. Still metronome between deciding if it had been a good or bad idea in the end. Still so full of doubts and hesitations, issues flashing across his mind like error messages. He wouldn’t be here feeling love again if he hadn’t done it. But…

None of them would’ve known I existed, none of them having to go through the dread of knowing there’s a world out there where they lost it all. None of them having to feel so repulsed by me. None of them having to feel responsible for me. None of them having to end up with a washed-up brother figure they never even asked for.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He said eventually. Honestly. Admitting to things he was bottling for so long. “I really miss you. I know I said I was going to join you soon, and I really did mean that. But I can’t… they’re stopping me. And I’m phrasing that like it’s a bad thing but it isn’t, is it?”

Huh. Her glow seemed to grow brighter at that.

“I don’t think anyone wanted that plan to go through but me. Sometimes I might still think it should.” YS mused, flipping over onto his back. Funny, he didn’t even realize his pain was gone. “I think I just get so lost in my own mind too much. I should really stop doing that… Kinda hard to stop when I’m alone. I don’t know where my strength has gone.”

He knew where it had gone, he was lying through his teeth. His strength hadn’t existed since the day he lost her. So much of himself had died with her, or so he’d thought. The others, they were pulling things out of him that he’d thought were gone. Thoughts, feelings, actions. Was this healing, perhaps?

“I really outsourced my own self-healing.” YS chuckled, shaking his head at the absurdity. “That’s so fucking dumb. But fitting. I wasn’t ever the smartest to begin with.”

Content, he decided, was not a feeling he’d felt in a long while. Somehow he was feeling it now. Hah, look, he didn’t have to call for comfort after all. Not that it would’ve been a bad thing to do really. However, if he had done so, he wouldn’t have said any of what he did. The bottle would still be full. Despite always insisting the rest of them use him to vent to, YS never felt like he should open up to them. Probably a lingering consequence of the first incident…

YS got lost in his own thoughts again, his rambling to the air coming to a close. He felt better, and his back pain was over now. That was good, right? He felt fine. Like a weird middle ground, but at least it wasn't crushing negativity for now.

And what was Herself doing, still glowing on the table? Oh, nothing much really, only perhaps amplifying the connection her love shared with his other selves. It was baseline magic, no harm in adding on more to make the signal stronger, right? No harm in strengthening it enough for all of them to hear exactly what he’d been saying the whole time, even across the multiverse, right?

Nah, no harm. YS would never know.

Never know of the ear-splitting, watery-eyed grin stuck on Biff’s face. Never know of the content, happy fog that settled in Beefer’s mind, blocking out all of his own negativity despite living in it in real time. Never know of the positive turmoil his words set off in Beef and Bee’s heads, wondering what they’d done to deserve it. Never know of the glee festering in the chests of Boyf and Peacock, spreading across their bodies and warming up their thoughts. Never know of the happiness from Blue, knowing his love and care was returned. Never know of the spark of hope Cyber felt.

YS had let his walls fall in his silly little tantrum, she’d just helped nudge it in the right direction.

[sanctified-silence]

Statement of Grian... no last name, huh. Statement of Grian, regarding luring fishing experience. Original statement was given 12 of February, 2024. Audio recorded by [static] the head archivist of [static]. Statement begins.

I've never been quite into fishing before. Not much of surprise, I probably don't look the type, I know. And I don't think I am "into" fishing now, to be crystal clear. Actually, I think that I won't be able to even think of fishing after all this is done. I will just try my best to forget this ever happen and come back to the architecture.

It was meant to be a break, okay? I was in quite the burn out recently. Work, work, work and more work just piled up my back, not giving me any room for breathing. More projects, more calculations, more designs, more thrown out expensive paper. More awful people I have to deal with to explain why their idea of the architecture and exterior design not only majorly impractical, but also dangerous. And I was having none of it.

Of course, when I saw that damn advert, I didn't hesitate to throw it all far away for some needed pause. Here, I wrote down exactly what it was saying.

[There's an attachment to the file of a small paper, on which was written down the words "Stillwaters Paradise - the best place to relax and take it slow, while the time swirls around you". There's also some artistic rendition of what the advert looked like in a rather sketchy drawing of lake and forest]

The next thing I know I was at that park, paying for my stay. I remember the woman that met me at the counter. Something about her gave me the willies, maybe it was her almost white grey eyes, that seemed a bit big for her face, that stared at me with distant expression. Her hair were sticking to her face and neck in way they would if they were wet. She reminded me of a dead fish, holding her lips slightly open.

She asked me if I'd like the fishing equipment go into my check. At first I tried to refuse, but her eyes made me feel dizzy as she was talking about how great this park is for all fishermen, so I reluctantly agreed.

At first I was just taking a nice stroll around the park, taking in the nature, since it was beautiful, haven't visited that many natural resources in the UK, or anywhere, for that matter, but the place was gorgeous, full of different trees and flowers. What I did notice however was that it was quiet. Uncanny quiet, I mean. No birds, no flies, no mosquitos, no anything. Just the sound of leaves moving on the wind.

It weirded me out a lot, but I wrote it off as me being stressed and overworked or something. Coming to a lake, I noticed multiple sets of fishing equipment in the shack nearby, I remembered that I actually payed for it, so might as well make my money worth, I figured and took one. I know, it sounds kinda stupid in hindsight, but I didn't know at the time that it's not a common practice. As I said, never was a fishing guy.

There were a couple of people who were fishing there already. None of them greeted me or even glanced at me, when I came down to a shore. Weird, but I just thought it's because they were really concentrated on what they were doing. They still creeped me out so I took a place as far of them as I could. I tried to make sense of the fishing equipment stuff I got, it seemed pretty straight forward from sidelines. And soon the float was in the water, innocently bobbing around.

At first it was somewhat normal I caught a couple of small fish, no clue what they are, but they gave enough of rush of emotion to continue on fishing.

I was staring at the float, there it was making a small circles on the water surface, I felt my eyelids get heavier and it took me a lot of strength to keep the open. My stomach started making that weird feeling of my very insides rotating, like unsettled bad lunch. There was this float. Bobbing. With time the circles of waves it was making started slowly spiraling inwards. No, the whole water surface around it started bending in those shapes without a proper form, shifting, breathing. Same is for my fishing rod.

Well, the rod in my hands stood unchanged, maybe a bit sharper and pointy than it's supposed to, but it was still normal. It's the fishing line, it's spun on itself and then in the next moment there was two. Three, four, six, ten, all different, with the same float, but they bounced on those weird waves that made no sense in their own manner. A few of them were pulled down as if the were getting the fish.

I tried to pull, but to no avail, the fish, or whatever was biting the bait was far stronger than me, but I could pull the other ones with no problem. It is then I looked into the sky, I don't remember why, maybe because I needed to stop my eyes from hurting, or maybe it was my growing headache, but there was no relief for either of them up there. Because all of the sky was in those fractal impossible shapes. Even the sun, it looked cartoon almost, bright, but not blinding. Headache inducing.

I got up from my fishing spot and immediately regretted it, the wildest vertigo I ever felt made me dizzy, I closed my eyes, trying to find a balance, but when I opened them again, I felt even more sick. I was standing in the sky, fishing. One of the rods caught on the sky's fractal and I tugged. I wish I didn't.

When I pulled, the whole damn sky was swept away under my feet and swirled, becoming this mess of blue, orange, yellow, green and white, trying to mix with water and surroundings of the park. The colours were bright, the edges of this swirl were sharp and it cut me and my clothes in multiple places, I think it even broke one of my nails. But it called me. It hurt to look, to touch, to even hear, because the noise was nothing I ever thought was possible, but I stepped into it. And another step, going further and further.

Just like that it was over.

Another visitor of the park was shaking me violentely, as we stood in the lake, knee deep. There was no rod in my hands. Actually there was nothing on my hands or arms or anywhere on me for that matters those deep painful cuts that I thought was there a moment ago. I looked back at where my fishing spot was, where also supposed to be the fish I caught. There was no fish there.

After that with half wet pants I drove off, back home. Far from this weird place. I remember the look of something I can only interpret as hungry disappointment in the face of the woman at the front desk.

I had a several nightmares after that, all far too bright and confusing. I remember standing in the fishing store, looking at equipment, but I have no recollection of going in. I found a rod by my door in one of the mornings. Sold it immediately. I found myself even driving the road to this park at multiple times, but turned around as soon as I understood where I was going.

Today was a first day when I took a shower without feeling like the drain collected a swirling light with the water.

[percontaion-points]

Gate Crashers chapters 19 & 20

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 19

“New QER burst coming in, Captain. Priority One,” Prescott’s voice said into Allison’s earbud. 

“They’re always Priority One.”

 “Yes, ma’am, I’d noticed that too.”

It’s almost like you lot are on the precipice of having first contact or something. How weird is that?

“Marcel,” Allison said. “We’ve been out here together for sixty-five years. You don’t have to salute every time you pass me in the tubes.” 

65 chronological years, maybe. But how much time in that 65 years have they actually been awake?

Allison caught her eyes fixating themselves to Gruber’s backside, framed momentarily by the tube doors. The truth, she realized with surprise, was she really wouldn’t mind tucking in with her XO, regulations be damned. 

So here’s the uncomfortable truth about this book: the humans are nothing but a subplot that’s been taking up way too much page-time. And for what? Allison is unimportant in the grand scheme of even this book. I don’t care who she fancies. 

“How do you know that, Maggie?” “The head researcher, Mr. Fletcher, told me as much.” 

“You have a pen pal?”

 “Pen pal … a friend made and kept through correspondence, usually in letters. The description is apt. Yes, Mr. Fletcher and I are pen pals.”

At this point, I don’t know who Fletcher is. And I kind of don’t care. 

See also: my previous statement about how little that I care about the goings-on of literally any human. 

“And what happens to old technology during a revolution?”

 “Well, it gets replaced, of course…” The realization struck Allison like an iron asteroid. Allison thought of Maggie as a person and a friend, not a pile of circuits and pipes. The idea that one of her friends could become “obsolete” had never occurred to her. 

I know that Maggie is nothing more than a chat-bot running a spaceship. She’s literally nothing more than a computer. 

But I refuse to believe that people would simply let Maggie and her experience go to waste. 

Perhaps the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum will want me as an exhibit, Magellan thought. There are less desirable outcomes than hosting tourists, aren’t there?

Chapter 19 summary: Allison gets called away because yet another urgent message has come through from earth. As she’s going to the bridge, she runs across some people who are about to take a year-long nap in the cryo-pods. Because, you know. 80 fucking years trip back to earth and all that. (How much time has passed during this book? Your guess is as good as mine. We already know that several years have passed on earth.)

When Allison gets into the lift to go up to the bridge, Maggie starts to talk with her about the project that they’ve been working on. Allison expresses how it makes the crew feel, and kind of has to explain how in humans, emotions tend to overlap. But this quickly transitions into how Maggie is carrying the device whose technology is being studied to replace her one day. Which I think would be upsetting for anybody to think about. 

Chapter 20

Compromise, it has been said, is the fine art of solving problems in such a way that no one gets what they want. It is for this reason Eugene didn’t bother with it.

Chapter 20 summary: Another agency is taking over the project Eugene and Felix have been working on for several years now. Agency B lists off their failures… Most of which are damaged prototypes. Eugene is quick to throw into Agency B’s face how many human lives were lost when they were in charge of inventing the gravity drive. 

However, Agency B has an ace up their sleeve: leaked intel that’s currently all over the internet. 

Also, while Agency A was working on testing out things, the President of the United States ordered that the war ship be built and its crew assembled. However, it sounds like it’s using the untested technology Agency A has been working on, so I can’t wait for that to go all Challenger on them and prove Agency A was right all along. 

[soir-rouges-esprit]

xxviii.c: The Viper, “he has run a muck in our business, and refuses to come to the table to talk and work out some kind of territorial agreement.” Yeah … sounds like the dirty prick. “But first … you are to agree to do something for me, in return for my help.” I tense up … feel my heart start to race. W-what? … “You are to run some jobs for me … High Priority” Shit. I lean forward … and put my head in my hands to think … High Priority Contracts are typically some real dangerous shit, dealing with some real dangerous people … not what I'm trying to involve myself in necessarily, unless they can help me, clearly as to my current visit. I lean back up, and remove my hands from my face. *Sigh* … ok … so say I help you here, how many contracts are we talkin? “Seven” Seven! … fuck me … why so many? … why so specific actually? I was expecting you to dodge my answer … and be more … cryptic. “Yes well … you are going to be quite busy with those seven, there would be more … but I'm afraid that is probably not within the time zone I'm needing … you will be working against some old friends of ours.” Old friends? “K-Industries” Holy Fuck Van … I … I don't know about that, it's downright dumb to get in any trouble with them … even you should steer clear, and you used to know that. “Things have changed … K-Industries have been moving product in bulk, as to underhand us on the street level, we are to show them that is unacceptable … that there are consequences to moving into our territory.” ahhh damn … this is so fucked V … we're not even close to standing against them in any context … especially with their publicity armor they've always had and flaunt, not to mention the billions they have at their disposal. “Yes yes Salem … I know this, this is not news to me, I've thought it all through, there really is no choices here … we must act now … they are forcing us. I need your help, as you need mine … we both can come up on top here, if we reunite once again, and you serve as my Rồng again.” listen V … I'll help … but only for those seven contacts, no more than that, no side jobs for the main jobs none of that shit … call me when things need to be done on the main projects here, I don't want any more trouble then I already have here. “I know … ” she reached across the table and put her hand on my wrist, “You have no need for worry … these contracts are from me, and vetted by good people … you are safe, this … is a win-win.” *Sigh* yeah yeah. I stood up. I've heard it before V … but seeing I have no choice here, I'll play your game for now. She stood up quick with a big smile and eyes even bigger. “You will not regret this … this is the start to your new safer life … I promise you this … by the end, you will have less problems, both in the concurrent and in the making. All shall be safe.” Mmhmm, we'll see. Anyways what now exactly? Do you need my help to get Alzon any? Or what's next here? “Tell anything you can about him to Cadeo, he will write down everything and I'll go over it later tonight, I want to know … everything … including why you were even anywhere near him, let alone to be put on his hit list. Then after I've looked it over, I will give you a call, and we can speak then on what's next. We'll start with that … then we can move on to the first contract, and so on continue our efforts in tandem.” Ok! … ok … sounds like a plan then … well then Mrs.Van … it was a pleasure to see you again, and I'll be awaiting your call. I tip my head a little and start to walk away … when she grabbed my shoulder and said. “You know … you cannot do this alone.” I stop in my tracks, and turn around slowly. I mean … maybe, maybe not … “No … you cannot do what I've asked, alone … you will need help.” … ok … what about Cadeo in there, could show him some ropes and progress him fur- “No! … he is not ready, and this life is not his to live … and we both know you don't work well with others outside your circle.” … Just as I thought I was in the clear … she just had to come back with something … [To Be Continued]

[casspurrjoybell-18]

Mutual Desire - Chapter 65b

*Warning - Adult Content*  

Damien Clark slowly lifted his head and met Craig's stern gaze, clearly waiting for Damien to answer him.

He remained silent, however, and the more the seconds passed, the more it was obvious that he wouldn't be speaking anytime soon.

Damien categorically refused to talk about Alexander Nabokov or even go as far as mentioning his name.

It was a line that he had decided not to cross.

Another bomb dropped by Craig was what broke the silence created by Damien. And damn, what a fucking bomb.

"Was it Nicolas' boss?" Craig asked nonchalantly.

Damien's eyes widened immensely as his heart rate had probably defied the laws of biology.

He had never been so amazed in his whole life until this moment.

Has Craig become some type of seer?

How had he guessed exactly who this someone was?

Someone he had only met once and briefly. 

How?

"Looks like I hit the nail on the head," Craig confirmed with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Damien had so many questions but the words were stuck in his dry throat.

All he could do was stare in awe at the person responsible for such astonishment.

"I hadn't paid too much attention to it when he came to see you at my place because I knew you were helping Nicolas with a project related to his work," Craig explained calmly, the sharp touch in his voice magically disappearing. 

"It's true that I did find it a little bit weird but I didn't dwell on it too much, naively thinking that there was surely a good explanation for him coming to see you that late."

Craig chuckled bitterly and shook his head slightly.

Damien could only listen to Craig's explanation of how he had managed to link the dots while struggling to breath properly.

"It was dumb of me to believe that but hey what do you want? I blindly trusted you."

Damien's breathing was starting to get irregular and he felt like he was going to pass out soon.

"When I found out who this man was by doing a quick google search of the company's name that was written on the package of your mac that was shipped to me, I knew something wasn't quite right."

Damien lowered his head and closed his eyes before opening them again.

He didn't need to hear the rest of Craig's little investigation story.

He already had a clear picture of how and why his boyfriend had made such connections which then brought him to the exact conclusion.

He couldn't bear to hear anything anymore.

"When the CEO of a billion-dollar company comes in his own spare time to see someone who doesn't even work for him, it will obviously raise a few eyebrows," the head nurse said, continuing his explanation. 

"When I think about it, it's true that I felt a certain tension but I didn't dwell on it."

Damien brought his head back straight and his eyes collided with Craig's.

He was wordless and in a minute, he would probably be boy-friendless.

He just didn't know what to say.

What could he say?

Damien was literally seeing his relation crumble before his eyes, and he couldn't blame anyone but himself.

"You're not going to say anything?" Craig remarked.

Damien's tears that had ceased to wet his cheeks began to flow again.

But his tears hardly seemed to affect Craig who remained unmoved.

"Well, I have something to say to you or rather something to ask. How long has he been fucking you behind my back?"

Faced with such an accusation, Damien quickly found his voice.

"We have never slept together," Damien quickly said indignantly.

Craig crossed his arms, his face showing no sign of anger.

"But you spent the night at his place yesterday. So, what did you two do all night hmm? Play cards?"

Damien couldn't blame Craig for making such a well-justified presumption.

He had spent the night with another man.

You didn't need to be gifted with a great imagination to guess what might have happened.

"We've never slept together, Craig," Damien repeated calmly. 

"I swear to you."

Craig didn't seem at all convinced by the doubtful look he was giving Damien and by his unusual silence in the conversation.

The two men stared silently at each other for a moment.

Damien was aware that the burden of proof was on his shoulders since Craig had every reason in the world not to take his word for it and all the reasons to not do otherwise.

"I swear it on my dad's ashes," Damien whispered, looking Craig straight in the eye without blinking.

It was only by swearing on his late father that Craig would believe Damien.

There was no other way taken by Damien to try to prove his innocence that would have worked.

Craig uncrossed his arms and his features softened completely.

"But you guys did other things."

It wasn't a question but rather an assertion that Damien had no intention of confirming or deny.

He didn't feel like having this type of conversation at all like it and now wasn't the time to discuss what he had done or not done with the Russian man and talking about it surely wasn't what would make things right.

Craig, on the other hand, didn't seem to see it that way.

"He sucked you off?" Craig asked.

Damien fled Craig's gaze, placing his head to the side, offering his profile to his boyfriend.

An image of Nabokov's head between his legs sucking him infiltrated Damien's thoughts who quickly squeezed them aside.

He had no intention of responding to that and he wanted to quickly find a way to shift the conversation to another topic.

"Did you suck him off?" Craig continued on his quest for an answer.

Damien turned his head fully forward and gave Craig a slight irritated look.

"Craig, please," Damien pleaded in a strangled voice.

Damien didn't understand why Craig insisted so much on knowing the love fest between him and Nabokov.

He didn't see what Craig gained by hearing about these completely insignificant details aside of being hurt by them.

Wasn't it enough to know that the two men hadn't slept together?

"Have you started to use drugs again?"

"No," Damien Clark interposed fiercely.

He had been unable to control his aggressive tone when Craig had wanted to bring back a dark moment from his past.

A past that Damien was hardly proud of.

Damien struggled to grasp the reasons that led Craig to believe that his infidelity was somehow necessarily linked to this dark period in the life.

Craig's reaction to Damien's slightly loud tone and his outraged expression insulted by the presumption his boyfriend had made was one of impassivity.

He continued to scrutinize Damien in silence, surely trying to figure out if his boyfriend was telling the truth.

Although Craig's assumptions hurt him and the images of his past resurfaced, Damien had no intention of swearing on his late father again to gain Craig's trust.

Once had been enough.

"I'll come back for my things," Craig informed Damien without emotion in his voice.

The head nurse walked towards Damien and when the shoulders of the two men almost collided, Damien suddenly grabbed Craig's hand who then stopped his walk.

"Craig, please let me explain. Don't leave me," Damien pleaded, holding Craig's hand firmly.

Craig frowned, as Damien's tears resumed their flow.

"Leave you? No, Damien," Craig said, shaking his head in disagreement. 

"I'm not leaving you. You are leaving me. You left the moment you started seeing this guy."

Damien shook his head.

"No that's not true. I love you Craig. I love you more than anything."

Craig brushed Damien's left cheek and he wiped Damien's tears away with his fingertips.

"I love you too but to be able to love you I need to start by loving myself and if I love myself, then I can't stay with you. Not after all that. It's over.”

Craig was about to leave, but Damien added pressure on Craig's hand which he continued to hold fiercely.

"Craig. Please forgive me. I beg you."

Craig watched Damien for a moment with an exceptionally gentle gaze.

"I'm going to ask you a question and if your answer is yes, then I'll forgive you and stay with you."

Damien wasn't sure he had heard correctly but he didn't even dare to move or even breathe.

He wanted to be more than ready to hear this question that would decide the fate of his relationship and even more to answer it.

"Do you deserve me?"

Damien felt like time had frozen as he tried to take in what Craig had just asked him.

When he was able to fully comprehend, he realized that he had just heard words he never thought would hurt him so much.

The worst part was that he was physically and mentally unable to speak.

He could only stare at his boyfriend who had asked him a question that under other circumstances would only have taken two seconds to answer.

"After all of that, do you deserve my trust, do you deserve the love I have for you?" Craig added. 

"Do you deserve me?"

Once again, Damien had fallen into silence.

However, the answer was more than obvious.

It was so obvious that even an eight-year-old could have given it away.

But Damien refused to be the one to give it.

He would rather die than say yes just as he would rather die than say no.

So, he remained silent, pleading with Craig with his tearful eyes to end his ordeal.

Clearly taking Damien's silence as a response on his own, Craig let a faint sad smile run through his lips.

"You should call Nicolas and tell him you're okay. He's worried sick for you. Goodbye, Damien."

And Nick was going to continue to worry because Damien was utterly demolished inside.

He didn't resist when Craig undid the forced hand holding his wrist nor did he watch as Craig left his apartment, as he didn't dare turn or run after to hold him back.

When Damien heard the door slam and had confirmation that he was now alone, he collapsed on the floor right next to the small glass table.

It wasn't long before a shower of tears flooded his already wet cheeks.

[viluvr-archived]

WHEN HE WANTS YOUR ATTENTION

Leona , Ruggie , Jack .

Gn!reader .

( A/n : Hello! This is requested by anon! I'm also a little bad at writing for Ruggie and Jack T—T so I'm very sorry for that :[ )

LEONA !

Just what do you think you're doing? Why aren't you paying attention to him? Stop doing so much damn work and sleep with him sometimes, he isn't asking for your whole attention, well.. maybe he is asking for your whole attention...

But! It doesn't matter! Look at you, all tired from doing Crowley's work, projects, and juggling your schedule! Plus, you have to deal with your troublesome friends.

"Oi." He calls out to you in a hurry, afraid you'd leave again so soon, "Later Leona, 'm busy! Bye love you!" You were supposed to leave to meet up with your groupmates for a project until you felt a strong grip around your wrist.

"Leona..?" "Who told you, you could leave? And I don't wanna hear 'nother 'oh I gotta go Leona!' no more. Now you're coming with me to take a nap." Could you blame him? No, he's your boyfriend, and you've been neglecting him. "I... Yes, but my group-" "Already took care of it, relax a bit geez." He says as he yawns. "Alright then... sleep tight Lion."

RUGGIE !

Ah, he understands how busy you can get, he runs errands too! For the money, food, for Leona and many more people! But sometimes, aren't you.. a bit too busy? Don't you need help with that? He promises there's no payment! He just wants to spend time with you.

"Heyyy! Y/n, got something to do today? I can help" "No thank you. Bye Ruggie! Love ya!" This was his third attempt today, to help you with your work, he even refused any work that was given to him! So will you please... Allow him to help you! "Y/nnn.. please.?" "You know I can't.." "Then I have no choice but to do this!" "...do what..?" Ruggie was already getting close to you, grabby hands getting closer to you...

"Ruggie... Don't... AHHHH!" You turned your head around for a second and he's already tickling you! "This is what you get for working so much! And, rejecting my offer to help!" "Stop!- stop, can't breathe!" "Oh, I'll stop when you agree to rest!" "I... Fine.." "That's a deal then!" Oh, he's been spending too much time with the Octavinelle trio.

JACK !

Jack Howl is someone who shows his love with acts of service and quality time, he actually can have every love language except he sucks at words a bit, and that's exactly words of affirmation.

He starts by noticing when you aren't taking care of yourself properly, then he'd prepare food for two, he knows he sucks at words and that's why he's making up for it by mostly taking care of you and getting what you need, doing some chores secretly and some of your works.

"Hey... I, uh, here, I got you food. You seem like you aren't taking care of yourself too much these days so.." but when you kiss his cheeks before saying bye and thank you? He's a mess.

"Bye Jack! Thanks, see ya later, mwah" "hey wait! You can't just... I forgot to ask them if they needed help! Wait!" Why'd you have to be so busy! "Jack? Why're you still here? Were you waiting for me..? You didn't really have to y'know.." "I'm waiting here because I need you to stop working so much" maybe this was one of the rare moments that Jack was serious. "Huh" "You work too much for your own good, you make errands for the head mage almost most of the time, your friends are bothering you and involving you in their own shenanigans which is why I'm stopping you from working so much and there's not a choice where you say no" "Jack, but I still have!-" "You can do them but make sure to take breaks, no buts now"

he's just doing his job as your boyfriend right? 'Nd that's what lovers do.

[hiphop-rap-and-basketball]

Ya lil’ Glasses | LaMelo Ball One Shot

Pairing: LaMelo Ball x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,588

Summary: You and LaMelo Ball both attend UCLA for undergrad. Of course he happens to be that hype kid the class that’s loud with his friends. You both get paired up to do a project together for the class. He’s kind of mean and pokes fun and although he gets on your last nerve, you may or may not find him just a little tiny bit cute. Maybe.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, mentions of sex, female and male anatomy, orgasm control, possibly cliche, M/F.

A/N: damn forgive me it’s been a while since I’ve written smut, butttt I’m on a roll with writing lately soo that’s not stopping me. Let me know what y’all think ;) enjoyyyyy and happy reading

•••

You cannot believe you were paired up with Melo Ball for the most important assignment of this course for the semester. Yeah, it’s UCLA but they really just let any good sports player in and you cared about your education. He did not. All he did was mess around and crack jokes

with his friends in the class. Imagine acting like that in college, couldn’t be you.

When it came down to finally finding a time to work on it together, you could not wait to get it over with.

The first time you met with him for the project was in the common hall. You both settle down in your chairs and you pull out your laptops. As soon as Melo pulled his stuff out, he hopped on his phone.

“Can we just come up with an idea and be done today?” You ask, not really in the mood to ask for his full attention.

He looked at you before clicking his phone off and licking his lips.

“Yeah sorry, sorry, I gotchu.”

You cannot help but roll your eyes. He sits there in silence for a moment and actually starts shooting out ideas. You start writing them down until you finally agree on one.

“I think that’s a pretty good start,” you say, proud you guys at least got something down.

“I think so too. What you doing after this?” He asks, running his hands over his curls.

“Track practice at 4, shower, hopefully dinner after,” you say as you close up your laptop.

“You run track? Running is gross,” he laughs.

“How you gonna say running is gross when all you do is run up and down the court?” You ask, a little too loudly, someone shushes you and you both crouch down and begin whispering.

“Basketball is more than that,” he shot back, “you wouldn’t know.”

“Oh here we go, you all say that,” you respond, flicking your wrist at him.

“You all?? What that mean?” He asks.

“As in all the basketball players,” you laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you let me know when track become a real sport,” he fires back.

“It is!” You slam your fist on the table and he smirks, as if he is happy to get you all riled up.

“Mhmmm,” he replies.

“Over this conversation,” you say, getting up and throwing your backpack over your shoulder.

“When you trying to meet next?” He asks calmly, standing up close in front of you. You were looking up at him now, him being more than a foot taller than you made you feel small.

“I’m free all afternoon Wednesday, my class ends at 12:45p.m.”

“You would know when your class ends, nerd.” He responded.

You cock a brow at his attempt at a roast.

“Shut up,” you responded.

“Wednesday at 2p.m. Your dorm. How’s that sound?” He smiles.

“That works,” you shrug. He smiled at you before walking away. You both go your separate ways.

Wednesday came around quickly. Your head hurts today, so you decided to put your glasses on instead of wearing contacts. Even though you knew that would not help you deal with Melo’s bs. He was extra unfocused today.

“How was your dayyy?” He asked as he walking into your dorm room. He looked huge walking through the door it was kind of funny actually.

“Fine, and yours?” You ask, feeling obligated to do so since he asked you first.

“It was alright, better now that we are here working on our project together bestie,” he jokes, plops himself down on your bed to make himself comfortable. You sat on your desk chair facing him.

You caught up with a couple ideas and worked on some your work, actually getting something done, for now.

You had to show each other your screens, so you awkwardly sat next to him on the bed. He sat up. The two of you now with your backs up against the wall and feet hanging off the bed. You sit in silence for a moment.

“I like ya lil glasses, can I try them on?” He asked, smiled and looking in your direction now.

“N-“ before you could answer, he already swiftly pulled them off your face and put them in his anyway. You roll you eyes.

“Do I look smart?” He asked with the cheesiest smile on his face.

“You look stupid,” you reply coldly, although you secretly kind of liked how they looked on him. They fit his face well.

“I think you’re mad they look better on me,” he replied with a scoff.

“You’re sooo annoying,” you reply. Surprisingly feeling yourself fight a smile. “Can you focus please?”

He does the opposite of focusing, eyes looking around your dorm room for a moment.

“Have you ever had sex with a guy? Are you even straight,” He asked, catching you off guard. You took full offense to his question. Not because of him questioning your sexual orientation, but rather him thinking that was his business.

“That’s a personal question,” you respond quickly.

“Seriously? You have this single dorm all to yourself. You don’t even use it to its full benefits. You know how many girls I’d be bringing over if I lived in a single,” he tossed his pencil up in the air and caught it as he spoke.

“I’m here for my sport and to learn, not everything in college is about seeing how many people you can have sex with, Melo.” You responded, typing away at your computer.

Melo slowly lifted your computer off your lap, placing it on the opposite side of him.

“Hey-“ you reach out your hand to it. The room suddenly feeling a lot smaller than it was now that his face was right next to yours and you had nothing to do to keep your hands busy.

“Have you ever even kissed a guy?” He asked, you loosen up at his tone, which oddly enough seems a bit more sincere now.

“Um, no, no actually I haven’t,” you responded quietly, looking down on your lap.

“I don’t believe that.” He responded. “Stop lyin.”

“It’s true,” you shrug, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiles, making your heart skip a beat or two, but you’re usual chatterbox brain was too nervous to agree.

“Beauty standards have nothing to do with the fact that I haven’t kissed anyone yet. I simply choose not to settle-“

He cuts you off by grabbing the back of your neck with his large hands and pulling you in for a kiss. It lasted for what felt like forever but it was only about 10 seconds. Although you were surprised, you did not want to fight it, and you even found you hands settling on top of his shoulders before he pulled away.

You stared at him for a moment, wondering what in his right mind made him want to do that.

“Anyway, I’m ready to focus now,” he smiled, got up and sat in desk chair you were sitting in first.

You sat there eyes wide, trying to process what just happened.

“Um.. yeah… yeah okay,” you say slowly.

You sat there and decided to not acknowledge what just happened as well. Trying to focus on your work, you could not help by to continue replaying that moment in your head. The kiss on repeat for a while. A couple days even. You saw him in class and he was so nonchalant about it. It started to bother you.

It took everything in you not to ask him about the kiss. Not wanting to seem desperate but at the same time what the fuck. That caught you off guard completely.

The next time you too worked together, you worked in his dorm. His roommate was in there with you guys, engaging in the occasional conversation with the two of you.

This time, you actually cared about how you looked, wearing a little make up and wearing a floral sundress that stopped midway on your thighs.

When you walked up to the door, Melo looked you up and down for a moment before letting you in. He had shorts on with no shirt. His athletic build made your cheeks turn hot and look at the ground quickly.

“Welcome in,” he gestured. You walk in and it looks just as you thought a guys dorm room would look like. A damn mess.

You watched him with his back turned as he stood by his closet of clothes, muscles taut as he pulled a new shirt over his head.

You shuffled to get your stuff of your backpack out before he caught you staring and got to work.

His roommate was cute, and you did not care that you were flirting it up with him right in front of Melo. He kissed you with no explanation. You were determined to figure out why.

“Alright, I’m heading to the gym,” his roomie stated and you smile.

“Have funn,” you reply. You watch him walk out the door, looking down at your lap to flatten your dress then look back up at Melo. His face very clearly annoyed and unamused.

“What?” You smirk, asking in an oh-so innocent tone.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head in response.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “You sound a little pressed.” You push, big smirk on your face as you spoke.

“I’m good,” he replied coldly.

You confidently put your hand on his shoulder and replied. “Okay,” in a sarcastic tone.

He was not fucking with that. He pulled your arm down from his shoulder and pulled you into a kiss, this being your second time feeling his lips on yours. This one was more intense. You remember thinking of his lips and how they felt from the last kiss. Feeling them again made your heart pound with excitement.

“Shut up and don’t make me admit to jealousy,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

His hands gripping the back of your hair and he spoke, eyes bouncing from your eyes and lips.

“Hmmm, I think you just did,” you nod your head and shrug your shoulder. He was not having your sarcastic tone. He pulled you closer to him, this time he was laying down and you were sitting top of his lap. He refused to break the kiss, hands from down your neck to your lower back.

In your mind, you were strategically making sure you were right on top of his dick. His lips felt so good to feel again. You were so lost in the heat of the moment now, as he began using his tongue in your mouth, you let out a small moan for the first time.

He let go of the kiss for a moment and smirked.

“I wanna hear your beautiful moans,” he admitted, voice deep and full of lust.

He flipped you over and now your body was underneath him on his bed. You lied down flat on your back. He hovered himself over you.

Kissing you a couple times more, before kissing his way down your neck and stopping at your breast.

“You knew what you were doing wearing this shit,” he stated sternly.

You roll your eyes, “shut up.”

“You gon stop giving me that smart mouth,” he replied, smirk on his face before making his way down further. Your heart beating even fast now. He lifted up your dress to find you only in a thong.

He quickly looked up you with a smirk on his face, shook his head and carried on. Yanking your panties off, his lip made their way to your clit like a magnet.

You moaned softly at the pleasure, in fear that someone might hear the two of you.

“What if he comes back?”

“I don’t give a fuck, he could watch,” his voice low and eyes hooded, way too focused at the task at hand to even look at you.

Licking and teasing at your folds, you feel yourself getting closer due to all the tension you had built up since you arrived to his dorm, your mind flashing the sight of him when you walked when he was just no shirt on. His dick print very clear through his shorts.

As you felt yourself getting close to the edge, he stopped, and looked up at you.

“Whyyy,” you groaned put your hands over your face in frustration.

“Because, you was talking all that shit,” he said with one finger in your folds as he rubbed it slowly.

“Please,” you said and his surprised eyes look into yours.

“Nope,” he smirked. Now you were not having it.

You reach down to his shorts and very clearly feel his hard member. You looked up at him with pleading eyes as you began to rub it slowly.

He leaned down and started kissing your neck. You and him both knew he did not want this to stop, and he was fighting with every ounce in his bones not to rip your dress off and fuck you right then and there.

But you knew how to get what you wanted.

“Then it’s my turn,” you smile, pushing him off you and getting down on your knees on the side of his twin sized bed.

Knowing you have never done this before, you were slightly worried you would not be that great at it. You moistened your mouth as you pulled his shorts down, you did not have anything to compare his size to, but you were guessing it was bigger than average.

You admired it for a moment before taking it into your mouth. You heard him suck in his teeth as you took a few licks.

“What’s the matter?” You ask innocently looking up at him through your lashes while you swirled your tongue around the tip.

He bit bottom lip threw his head back, you knew that no answer meant that shit was hitting.

“Keep doing that shit with your tongue,” he groaned quietly.

You keep going at it for a while, and stopped when you felt him starting to thrust into your mouth.

“That’s it,” he groaned as he pulled you on the bed, you watched as he began to slowly push himself inside of you, wincing at the pain, he went slow and you warmed up. He looked so good while he stroked you. You started to feel better and better. He watched you as you took all of him now and proudly.

“I told you to stop talking all that shit,” he groaned.

“I don’t regret it,” you smirk.

“You bout to,” he stated as he began to speed up the pace.

You moaned louder as he continued to thrust into you. You could not believe this moment was actually happening. Him giving into it fed into your pride.

You watching at he admired every ounce of body, gripping and tugging at your soft spots. He held your hips as he picked up the pace.

He pulled out and finished himself off on your stomach. You lay there feeling a mess, he gets a towel and you guys get yourselves together throwing the occasional smirk at each other.

“You look so pretty taking this dick,” he stated, grabbing your neck and kissing you slowly. You smiled into the kiss.

“I’ll do it again,” he confirmed, both hands holding your face as he kissed you hard, tonguing you down.

“Chillll,” you laugh. “Let’s get this damn assignment going already.”

[absolutepokemontrash]

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ 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 : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning? 

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”  

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“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.” 

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.” 

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.” 

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.” 

“And why is that?” 

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.” 

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.” 

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.” 

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!” 

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.” 

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across. 

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him. 

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.  

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now. 

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face. 

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more. 

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.” 

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?” 

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?” 

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move. 

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book. 

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg. 

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?   

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time. 

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her? 

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.  

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment. 

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct. 

You just seemed different. 

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!” 

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?” 

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!” 

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?” 

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air. 

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...” 

“Marriage, huh?” 

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away. 

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied. 

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him. 

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all. 

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?” 

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped. 

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated. 

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet. 

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life. 

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed. 

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?” 

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage. 

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.  

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands. 

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man? 

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating. 

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall. 

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general. 

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his. 

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.” 

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly. 

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you. 

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go. 

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together. 

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back. 

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.” 

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.” 

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest. 

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands. 

It was kinda cute. 

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized. 

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.  

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.  

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now? 

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake. 

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct. 

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’. 

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest. 

You feel him tense underneath you. 

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory. 

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation. 

“Yes, so you do remember!” 

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding. 

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around. 

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait. 

Oh God, not him. 

Anything but him. 

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.  

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was? 

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be. 

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear? 

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something? 

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name. 

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!” 

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking. 

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem. 

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering. 

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead. 

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable. 

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself. 

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong. 

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold. 

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep. 

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Better than ever. You?” 

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation. 

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively. 

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately. 

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you. 

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle. 

Dear God, you took your time with this one. 

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream. 

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight. 

“Who the fuck was that?” 

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for. 

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips. 

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore? 

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you? 

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours. 

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. 

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise. 

 “So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock. 

“Says the one who was thinking about me.” 

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you. 

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you. 

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.  

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall. 

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve. 

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband. 

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests. 

It was the day of the wedding. 

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today. 

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony. 

And none of it was your real choice. 

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite. 

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another. 

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own. 

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage. 

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself. 

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.  

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event. 

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.  

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept. 

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye. 

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself. 

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate. 

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips. 

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy. 

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate. 

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life. 

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love. 

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering. 

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality. 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.  

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you. 

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of. 

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from. 

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.  

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing. 

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light. 

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.  

He at least owed you that.  

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life. 

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection. 

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.   

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.  

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue. 

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner. 

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner. 

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested. 

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful. 

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official. 

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally. 

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play. 

The fool. 

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so. 

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again. 

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous. 

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains. 

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think. 

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe. 

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one. 

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.  

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move. 

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either. 

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him. 

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.  

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner. 

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room. 

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed. 

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him. 

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up. 

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?” 

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions. 

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” 

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so. 

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush. 

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed. 

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight. 

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look. 

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting. 

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.  

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly. 

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution. 

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar. 

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things. 

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself. 

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked? 

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute. 

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.  

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss. 

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange. 

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it. 

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you. 

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve. 

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened. 

You took a deep breath. 

Maybe Taehyung is different after all. 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

[donutloverxo]

Mobster Steve always ready to shut anyone up by his excessive pda in front of anyone and everyone .. cries .. a dream

Thanks for the request and sorry it took so long. I'm combining this and another anon who asked for a reader standing up for herself hopefully thats okay. Warnings - daddy kink, mob!Steve, misogyny. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

The yelling out 'daddy!' In public but was inspired by @cruelfvkingsummer s sugar daddy!August Walker.

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

*gif is not mine*

"You're gonna have to make a decision someday, cap," Sam chimed in, reminding Steve of the time crunch.

He only hummed in return, having had about enough of working the whole damn week, what's worse was that he couldn't even spend the weekend with you.

His frown quickly softening and turning into a smile when he saw you come out of his car, "Daddy!" you squealed, jumping up and down in excitement as you ran to him and threw your arms around him.

He was taken aback a bit, stumbling back a few steps but he managed to catch you, burying his nose in your hair as you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you so so much!" you sighed, finally happy to be with him.

He tried to set you down to your feet, so he could get a good look at your face, but you refused to stop clinging to him,"How was your trip, princess?" he asked rubbing your back, which was exposed since you were wearing a flimsy backless dress, he didn't know how he felt about that.

"Oh my gosh!" you squealed again, standing ok your feet so you could look up at him, "We had so much fun! I bought so many new pretty things, hot some for you and your friends too," you blinked.

He hummed, pulling you into him and crashing his lips over yours, he had missed you, it had been less than a week and yet it felt like months. He was well aware of Sam, Bucky, Peter and his bodyguards eyes on you, some of them had the decency to avert their gaze while Sam and Bucky smiled and stared as if they were proud parents.

You giggled, your cheeks warm and head dizzy from the kiss as he let you go.

"Yeah, what'd you get us, princess?" Bucky teased.

Steve shot him a look, knowing that he was only joking but that pet name was reserved for him, only he got the privilege to call you that.

"Ooh! I got you some magnets to put on your fridge and a nice shirt."

"Alright, princess, let's get going or we'll be late," he urged you. Not ready to share your attention with his friends, not after having you back in his arms after so long, and dreading the party you were both going to.

"Did she give you any trouble?" he asked Peter. He had sent the boy with you and your friends to Milan to protect you and make sure that you stayed out of trouble.

"Uh... no, sir. But..." he hesitated, he thought of you as a big sister and would never want to rat you out or get you in trouble, but his loyalty lied with the mob boss, "She might've maxed out your platinum card..."

"Don't worry about that..." he chuckled and thanked him for taking care of you.

"Daddy," you whined, squirming against his side, you had been acting antsy ever since you got in the limo, pressing kisses to his neck and his collarbone, pulling at the collar of his dress shirt, "I missed you sooo much..."

"I missed you too, baby. But we need to talk," he propped your chin up so he could look into your beautiful eyes, "You'll need to be careful with the card from now on. You can't just blow money away just because we have a lot of it."

"Bu... but," your eyes tearing up and your bottom lip wobbling, "I thought what was yours was mine. You said so yourself..." you sniffled, trying to keep your tears at bay, he had told you that when he asked you to leave your shitty studio apartment and move into his brownstone in Brooklyn, he let you decorate the place however you liked and let you have access to his accounts so you let yourself think that what was his was truly yours. "My mom was right..."

"Right about what?"

"She told me never to move in with a guy until I'm engaged. I'm just like... a kept woman for you..."

"No...no...no, honey," he sighed, stroking your cheek, "It is yours. Everything that is mine is yours. Even my heart," he said putting your hand over his heart, "my soul, it's all yours. More than it is mine really."

"And... I'm just looking for a ring, baby. You know I'd be an idiot not to give you my name and make you my wife. But we need to be cautious, what if we spend all our money and don't have any in case of an emergency?"

"All right, that makes sense. I'm sorry, daddy, I promise I'll be careful."

"I know you will, baby. You're my good girl right?"

"Yes," you nodded, clenching your thighs together.

"Are you wet, honey?" he smiled.

"Yes," you giggled. "Will you fuck me right now, please?" pulling your doe eyes so he absolutely won't be able to resist you.

"Not in a moving car, honey," he said, pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing it in your warm mouth, "I want to take my time with you. I haven't had my most favorite meal in days, so I'll have to do that first, for at least an hour, and then you are good and show me that you deserve it, I'll let you ride my cock."

His words sent shivers up your spine, you gulped, you were bound to be sore tonight. But there was still the matter of your needy pussy, and you weren't patient like your daddy.

"Can I at least suck daddy's cock then?" you requested.

He chuckled, "You just never take no for an answer do you, baby," as you shook your head. He unzipped his pants, pulling his hardening cock out of his pants.

"I'll mess up your hair," he said as you got down to your knees, between his legs, "I don't mind. I want my cummies," you excitedly wrapped your hand around his length, wrapping your lips around his tip.

He pushed your head down, making you gag, "We have to hurry, baby, we'll be there soon..." he moaned as he threw his head back.

He kept fucking his cock into your face, trying not to mess with your pretty hair which was your done up, your makeup was already ruined though, "Here it comes, baby," he warned you before releasing in your mouth.

You swallowed all of out, so that you could impress him and show him that you were his good girl, and because you were looking forward to the, hopefully huge, diamond he was going to buy you.

You were never a huge fan of parties like these, bored out of your mind, you couldn't even talk to anyone, Sam and Bucky seem to have wandered off somewhere while Steve was too busy making small talk that would literally put you to sleep.

"I'm bored," you told him for the tenth time, you would've even stomped your feet and thrown a full blown tantrum if you weren't aware of everyone's eyes on you, "And my feet hurt from these heels."

"I told you to wear something sensible, doll," he sighed. "Just an hour or so more and then I'll give you a foot massage, okay?"

You only huffed, four inches were more than sensible, you were going to wear the killer eight inch stilletos you bought in Italy with your friends but didn't knowing he'll scold you for it.

"Whatever," you mumbled.

Walking towards a group of women, who looked like they were mob wives and mob mistresses, you could talk to them to kill time.

'She's such a gold digger, I've heard Rogers has a lot of money.' You stopped in your tracks as you heard one of them say.

'You have to be hot to be a gold digger,' another voice snickered.

"Oh shit, I think she heard us..." she whispered as they both looked at you.

"Hello," you gave them a sweet smile, "were you both talking about me?"

"Yeah..." the blonde girl, Stacey you recalled her name was, "It's only the truth," she shrugged. "Nothing wrong with it, go get that money, girl!" She tried to salvage it but the damage was done.

"I think you're mistaken," you said as you propped your hand on your hip, "I'm not a gold digger. I love Steve and I do like how rich he is, but I'd love him even if he didn't have the money. Is it possible that you were projecting your own Insecurities on me? You're the one who wishes your man would leave his wife for you, not me. I'm going to be Mrs Steve Rogers. So you should watch how you speak about me if you know what's good for you."

She was about to quip back but then you felt his arm around you, "Good evening, ladies," he said to the small group of women, "Mind if I steal my fiance for a second?" he asked.

They all stared dumbfounded as he whisked you away.

"Not gonna lie, I would've loved to rescue you and be your knight," he told you as you both walked towards your limo, ready to end the night. "But I'm still so proud of you. You're my sweet strong girl."

"You'll always be my hero, daddy. No matter what."

[kireimarkeu]

Yellow; l.mk

+another repost, one of my favourite works ever. its unfortunate not many liked it... ;-; but im still gonna post it anyways. i did not make any changes to this fic.

summary: a journey where boxer!mark and you start to fall for each other.

5.8k words... it wasn’t supposed to be this long.. sorry guys ):

i changed the title because sunflower reminded me of johnny lmfao! also i know you guys don’t like long fics but istg i didn’t want it to be so long either ;;

warnings: mentions of blood & violence, f words 

+Day 1

The loud cheers were really starting to annoy you. Why did you let your friend drag you here in the first place?

You let out a grumbled sigh when your friend had pulled your hand, leading you closer to the ring. Truthfully, you hated anything that has got to do with blood or violence. You didn’t dare tell your friend that since she told you that she has always wanted to go to an underground match.

People were pushing you around as you struggled to keep your balance. You hold onto your friend’s wrist, to avoid from falling.

Your friend must have noticed your discomfort and leaned towards you, “you okay?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “yeah... this- this is just not my type,”

She pouts, “do you want to leave?”

“No, no, you’ve been waiting for this, let’s just watch the match,” you reply, looking back to the ring. Your friend nodded, looking back front.

The match started within a few minutes, both participants standing on each side started getting closer, waiting for one of them to throw a punch.

“That’s Jung Jaehyun,” your friend says, pointing to the one who had chocolate abs. He had some parts of his black hair dyed a dark green, which really suits him.  

Jaehyun.

He was handsome. Pretty face— really pretty face. However, his neck was filled with tattoos, which gets rid of his cute demeanour. You already knew he was the type to get lots of girls just by doing nothing.

“And that’s Mark Lee,”

Your eyes gazed on the boy with black hair.

Oh. 

He’s cute. He’s really cute. Super cute features. Plump lips, cute cheeks— you just want to pinch. You were surprised why he would be in a ring with such adorable features. You wanted to coo at his ears, why are his ears so cute?

If you were to pick one, you would pick the latter. He’s just your type.

Great, you’re doing it again. Thinking which boys you would choose.

Shaking your thoughts away, you focus on the match.

Jaehyun suddenly throws a punch, to which Mark managed to dodge. Mark suddenly throws a punch, straight to the other boy’s cheekbones.

You let out a gasp, flinching at the sight. Though, the crowd continues to cheer.

In a blink of an eye, Jaehyun has Mark under him, his arm tightening around Mark’s neck.

“Isn’t that dangerous?!” you screech, turning to your friend who was happily watching the match.

“That’s what makes it fun,” your friend winks.

Your mouth was left wide open as you look back at Mark who was struggling to breathe. You notice Mark tapping on Jaehyun’s arm as the latter lets go of his crazy tight grip on the boy.

“This is crazy,” you whisper out.

Despite being absolutely terrified of the scene that had just happened, you wanted to see more.

After a few matches, it was declared Jaehyun had won this time’s match. You actually expected it- seeing how he was slightly more builded than Mark. At the same time, you were disappointed that Mark had lost the match.

The people around you started getting closer, excited by the first match. It was making it hard for you to breathe.

You tap your friend’s shoulder, “I am going to step out for a while,”

“Do you want me to follow?” she asks.

You shake your head, “no, enjoy the rest of the match,”

“Okay, text me if you need anything,” she tells you as you let out a hum and step away from the crowd. You climb the flight of stairs, pushing the tinted glass door open. You take a deep breathe, finally able to breathe fresh air.

You rest your back against the brick walls, fishing out your phone to reply to some texts and scroll through Instagram.

“Hey,”

“Oh, jeez!” you jumped, your hand pressed against your chest, turning to see Mark.

Mark laughs, staring at you in amusement, “weren’t you from inside? I saw you,”

You gulp and nodded, “yeah, yeah I was, I saw you too,”

You scan his features. He had multiple bruises and cuts on his cheekbones and lips. You notice a deep cut on his eyebrow, and a bruise on his neck. You look back up to his eyes.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, pointing to the bruises painting his face.

He chuckles at your question, wiping the blood staining his lips. “Your first time here?”

You nod, your head moving to scan the cuts on his face, “are you going to clean that up?”

“I’m okay,” he reassures you, a small smile playing on his lips, “this is nothing,”

You wince. That was nothing? You would be crying in pain if you had that many cuts and bruises on you.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I’m Mark,” he says again, “what’s your name, pretty?”

Your face turned a crimson red, “y/n,”

“y/n,” he repeats, the name rolling out of his tongue smoothly, “beautiful name for a beautiful girl,”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, “how many times have you used that phrase, Mark?”

Mark was flustered for a moment, but quickly regain his coolness, “well, as of 3 seconds ago… once?”

He laughs when you grimace at his response, shaking your head in astonishment.

“So, what were you doing in an underground boxing, y/n?” he asks you, “you don’t seem like the type to be around this area,”

“My friend has been dying to come to an underground match and she dragged me with her,” you explain.

He hums, “ah, your friend? She really caught Jaehyun’s eye earlier,”

You smirk, knowing your friend definitely has been crushing on Jaehyun too.

“We should set them up!” you say excitedly.

+Day 15

2 weeks later, you were back at the same place. This time, you weren’t forced, you had begged your friend to bring you again. You would go alone but being alone in a place filled with rowdy men scares you. You knew your friend would agree since she wanted to see Jaehyun too.

“You usually don’t like this type of things, why are you suddenly so excited?” your friend asked, grabbing her bag, while you were tugging on her arm. 

You bit your lip nervously, knowing the exact reason why, but you refuse to tell her. 

***

“You’re back again,” says Mark, looking down at you with a smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, I just need some break from the chaos at school,” you explain. You were actually doing well in school. Unlike other students, you let out your stress from doing work and projects.

Mark hums as he looks around, “wanna go somewhere quieter?”

“But—” you turn away to find your friend, but she was nowhere to be found.

“She’s talking to Jaehyun,” Mark tells you.

You turn back around, holding your breathe when you see Mark leaning awfully close to your face. When he saw your flustered state, he started smirking, letting out a low chuckle.

“Come,” he says, tugging on your elbow, pulling you out of the crowd. Climbing the familiar stairs, the both of you walked towards an empty playground. The both of you take a seat on the swings.

“It’s kinda scary to be in a playground at night,” you state, looking around the extremely quiet area.

You hear Mark laugh at your statement; you look at him confusingly. “You know what you remind me of?”

You raise your eyebrows.

“A sunflower,” he tells you, making you blush. “Anything with the colour yellow,”

“And why is that Mark?”

He rests his head on the rope of the swings as he stares at you, “You seem like someone who is absolutely cheerful, everyone needs someone like you in their life,”

You smile at his sweet words.

Your eyes gaze on his hands that was wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through them.

“Are your hands okay?” you ask, nodding your chin towards his hands resting on his lap.

He looks down at his hands then back at you, smirking, “why? Did I make you worry?”

You look at him like he was crazy, “of course you did! The guy went pretty hard on you,”

Mark felt embarrassed at that. You came to watch his match twice and he still couldn’t win in front of you.

He looks away from your gaze, “it was nothing,” he murmurs.

You were quiet for a while. You felt guilty for bringing it up, knowing he was already beating himself up for it.

“You did great,” you blurted out, “I came to support you actually,”

“Really?” he chuckles, his gaze still on his shoes.

“Yup, you did so well, I think I should take you out for lunch,” you blurt out without realising. Your eyes widen at what you had just said.

Oh god, why did you say that? Did you have no shame? What if Mark didn’t even feel the same way?

Mark swiftly turns to look at your confused face. Fuck, he just wanted to hug you so bad.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” he asks, an amused grin plastered on his lips.

Oh god. 

You quickly face away from the boy who was staring at you with amusement. “N-no,”

He lets out a defeated sigh, “damn, really? I was hoping it would be a date,”

Oh fuck, he was smooth. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking me out on a date?” you huff.

“Do you want me to ask you out on a date?”

“No! I mean—”

“Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

+Day 17

The date was originally scheduled in 5 days but Mark was too excited and had asked you to meet slightly earlier, to which you agreed.

This time, Mark wasn’t in a tank top and shorts, he didn’t have cuts on his face or bloody hands wrapped in bandages. He was dressed in a button up and black skinny jeans.

He’s so adorable. 

“What,”

“What?” you look at him weirdly.

“You keep staring at me,” he points out, “do I have something on my face? Or am I too handsome?”

You grimace at his words and threw a fry at him, giggles leaving your lips.

Mark wanted to take you out on a proper expensive date, but he was also a broke college student— just like you. He felt bad about not being able to take you out on a proper date, but you had reassured him that you’d rather eat McDonalds kids meal than eat a $50 meal that is the size of a pea.

“You know,” you start, leaning back on the chair, “If I saw you for the first time, I wouldn’t believe it if you told me you were a boxer,”

“Why?”

You shrug, “you look like a baby to me,” you tell him, “just wanna pinch your cheeks,”

He scoffs, puffing out his chest, “I may look like a baby, but I fight like a man,”

+Day 23

Mark: hey are you coming later

You: where?

Mark: my match you loser

You: I don’t think so :(

You: i have a bunch of work to do :((

Mark: :(

Mark: oky then :/ make sure you rest enough

You:  I will :) don’t worry haha

+Day 25

“I didn’t know Mark had many girl friends,” your friend says.

You raise your eyebrows at that. The both of you weren’t official yet, only at the talking stage. He has never mentioned his friends or his family, but the information had your suspicions growing.

You pretend to not be affected by the words, “how’d you know?”

“You know the day you couldn’t come for his match?” you hum, “I think he invited some girls because they were all hugging and talking,”

You would be lying if you weren’t heartbroken by your friend’s words. However, you have no rights stopping him from seeing his friends. The both of you weren’t a couple.

“Aren’t you guys a couple?”

“No,” you answer with a sharp tone, “it’s his life he can do whatever he wants.”

“You’re not fazed by it?”

“Why would I be?” you murmur, “he’s not mine to begin with.”

+Day 35

Mark: hey :)

Mark: it’s been a while

Mark: I miss you

You: I knw haha

Mark: are you coming for my match tomorrow night?

Mark: no no you have to come tomorrow!!

Mark: ok?

You: hahahah

You: I will oky

You: im finished with my work & all so why not haha

You: but I need you to come get me hehe

You: my friend wont be following so its just me :3

Mark: that’s great!!!

Mark: I’ll send u home too ok

You: oky Markie :3

+Day 36

You had your hands resting on Mark’s face, cleaning up his bloody face. Mark had lost this time round; his opponent was three times your size and had beat Mark down like a pipe.

“I don’t even know why I support you doing this,” you mumble, wiping the blood running down his face, “you make me worry too much,”

“I’m okay.”

You glare up at him. “If you think this is okay then I don’t what’s your definition of the opposite.”

He frowns at you but didn’t say a word.

It took you a good 30 minutes to clean up all of his wounds. You lean away from him, “make sure you rest for a week,”

He hums, staring at you, “thank you,”

You felt bad for being so harsh on him. You reach for his hands, holding it in yours, your thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“Can you take me home now? I’m tired,” you sigh.

Throughout the ride home, you had one of Mark’s hand resting on your lap. You didn’t let go for a second, loving the warm feeling of his hand clasped in yours. Before you knew it, his car stopped infront of your apartment building.

You pout, turning to face him., “I don’t wanna leave yet,”

“Me neither,” he chuckles, “don’t go,”

You lips break into a grin, “you loser,”

He hums.

You unlock the door, ready to open the car door but Marks tug on your hands. You face him. He lifts his free hands, his pointer finger tapping on his cheek.

You snicker at his actions, your pointer and middle finger pushing his cheek away. You stick your tongue out when he pouts at you. You open the car door and left the car, shutting it, turning to face the boy who was still pouting.

“Thanks for today,” you say, “make sure you rest for a week before you start working again,” you reminded him.

Upset that you didn’t kiss him, Mark clicked his tongue and gestured for you to go in.

+Day 40

Your eyebrows furrow when you saw the pictures Mark was tagged in Jaehyun’s photo. You knew this photo was recent from the evident bruises on Mark’s face.

You had already warned him to completely heal for a week before going back to work but why was he so stubborn?

The girls who was surrounding the guy you like didn’t go unnoticed by you. You noticed how he had his arms snake around both girl’s waist.

Shutting your eyes close, you let out a frustrated sigh.

“Is this from today?” you ask your friend, showing her your phone.

Your friend takes a look and nods without hesitation.

A loud and angry groan left your lips. Getting up from the couch, you stomped to your bedroom, shutting the door as you climbed in bed.

God, why was liking a boy so hard?

Tears started rolling down your cheeks. You were so frustrated with Mark. You liked him so much that you hated seeing him being hurt— even if it was something he loves doing.

It wasn’t the first time he was seen surrounded by girls. Although the both of you weren’t in an official relationship, you didn’t enjoy seeing him touching girls. Maybe you were being dramatic with the girls, but did you really want to date someone like him? Someone who could potentially be taken away in a flash?

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a deep sigh. Everyone deserves a chance, even if he had hurt you.

You turn on your phone to send Mark a text.

You: you went to work today?

It took him less than a minute to respond.

Mark: how’d you know?

You: jaehyun’s Instagram

You: I thought I told you to rest?

Mark: sorry :( it was just a last minute match

You: hm

Mark: but on the bright side, I won this time!

Right. Of course he would win the match when you’re not there to support him.

You: was it fun?

Mark: yeah! Our friends came to support us

You: ohh who?

Mark: just some ex-school friends, you don’t know them haha

You: okay hha

Mark: you’re not angr right? Haha

Mark: angry*

You: no why would I be

You: you’re not my boyfriend so I have no right to be

You: mad

+Day 58

“Hey,” Mark sends you a bitter smile, “you okay? Been a whole year since we last saw each other,”

“It’s been 2 weeks, Mark,” you reply dryly.

Mark pouts and takes a seat next to you, “two weeks too long~”

He leans his head on your shoulder as his gaze on your phone. You turn to him slightly, offering your bubble tea to the male who happily accepts. He rests his hand on the plastic cup and your hand holding the cup, pulling it towards his lips.

You giggle, “you’re so cute, Mark.”

He squints his eyes cutely at you as he continues sipping on your drink. You didn’t complain, you love seeing him all happy.

You clear your throat, earning his attention, “I want to ask you something,”

He tilts his chin upwards, “what’s up?”

You try to think of a way to phrase your words together without sounding possessive.

Mark notices your furrowed eyebrows, he cracks a grin and nudges you with his shoulder, “don’t be so serious, what’s up?”

“Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” you blurted out.

Mark fell silent at your question. He wasn’t annoyed or anything— not at all, he couldn’t ever be mad at you. But it was just so sudden, where was this all coming from?

“I mean- you don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” you explain, “it’s not like I want to,” you laugh awkwardly, looking away from the male.

“N-no,” he stutters out, “it was just so sudden, where is this coming from?”

“I’m sorry,”

“Do you want to meet my friends?” he asks.

“I’m not forcing you,” you state, “it’s just a question- it’s not important,” you mumble the last part.

He let out a chuckle, “I want you to meet my friends,” he says, “but, they just…”

You purse your lips, already expecting the answer. Of course he won’t introduce you to his female friends. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t disappointed, but you couldn’t do anything. you can’t force him into doing something he doesn’t want to.

“I’m sorry,” he sounded sincere, too sincere. It’s weird.

You feign a smile, “It’s okay, but I have to go now,”

He frowns, watching you stand up to grab your bag, “already?”

You nod, “I’ll see you when I see you, I guess,”

Before he could even hug you goodbye, you had already left the bubble tea shop.

+Day 62

You had this habit of overworking yourself whenever you were down. You had drowned yourself in projects and work. The incident that happened a few days ago has left your mind, especially when he hasn’t sent you a single text.

“Hey,” your friend called, you hum in response, although your gaze was still glued on your laptop. “Have you been talking to Mark lately?”

Your fingers freeze at his name. Suddenly you were furious just by hearing his name.

“Why?” you reply crudely.

“He’s been asking me about you. Did something happen?” your friend asks, worried about you.

He’s been asking about you? So he has been thinking about you this whole time? Your heart fluttered a little at the thought. You genuinely liked Mark and it sucked that the both of you were already having arguments even before being a couple.

You bit your lip, turning around to look at your friend, “what did he say?”

Your friend passes you her phone, showing the text message between the two.

Mark: hey, im sorry if im disturbing you but

Mark: is y/n okay?

Mark: we haven’t been texting lately and I thought she needed space so i gave her that

Mark: I just want to know if she’s okay? If shes eating healthily?

Your lips tugged upwards at the text. God, he was so cute. You scroll down a little more to read more texts.

Mark: could you update me everyday on how she’s doing?

Mark: I miss her :/

“He really likes you, you know,” your friend says abruptly.

You pass her phone back, looking up at her.

“I know I’m not officially his and I have no right on stopping him who he should hang out with,” you explain, “but it upsets me seeing how he’s being surrounded by girls every single night,”

Your friend places her hand on your shoulder, her thumb caressing your shoulder comfortingly, “you should talk to him about it.”

She was right. Communication is key. You can’t keep it a secret forever. If it upsets you, then you should voice out.

You were going to talk to him about it.

+Day 67

You were at the underground boxing area again. Mark had texted you to come and support him. You were going to talk to him about it today. After his match. This was the only way that was going to make you feel better.

This time, you were standing near the wall, furthest from the boxing ring. Mark had warned you to stay here because of all the rowdy men crowding the area.

“With your petite size, you are just going to be stepped on,” he had said. 

You locked eyes with Mark who was standing in the ring. You automatically grin at him. Mark struggled to keep a straight face after seeing your adorable smile.

‘Good luck!’ you mouth, lifting your hands to show a thumbs up, then sending a heart to the male.

Mark’s heart flutter just by looking at you. He looks away to keep a straight face. Soon, the match started.

“Hi,”

You swiftly turned to see a handsome male standing next to you. You send him a polite smile before turning back to look at Mark.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I’m just here to support a friend,” you say plainly, your eyes gazing on Mark intently.

“I see,” the man says, “I’m Yuta,”

Does he ever stop talking? You hum, hoping it would stop him from talking to you.

“What’s your name?”

You wanted to roll your eyes at his question. You face the man, “I’m y/n,”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he flirts, winking at you. You grimace at his words. “You’re really pretty,”

You didn’t respond, irked by his presence.

“Do you hate talking or something?” he asks you. He rolls his eyes when you didn’t reply. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t, Yuta,” you sigh.

“Then? Do you hate me or something? Do you hate someone you’ve never met?” he asks you, leaning closer to you.

Unbeknownst to you, Mark saw you talking to the male and was distracted by it, which resulted in him getting punched in the jaw by his opponent.

Loud gasps and whistles filled the room.

You quickly turn to see Mark laying on the ground, getting stepped on by his opponent. Your hands went up to your mouth, watching in horror. Once his opponent was pulled away, you ran to find Mark, but was stopped by Yuta grasping your arm.

“Let go of me!” you shrieked, pushing his arm away, running to find Mark.

You see Mark in the room, holding his jaw painfully while Jaehyun helped him bandage his hand.

“Mark!” you call, running up to him. You instantly hold onto his elbow, scanning his face that was littered with bruises. He had a black eye too.

Mark meets your worried gaze. His eyes held something different— anger and annoyance.

“Are you okay? Are you badly hurt anywhere?” you ask.

The male suddenly pushes your grip off him, looking away from you. Your eyes widen at his actions.

Did you do something wrong?

You look at Jaehyun, hoping he would signal you something— anything. But he only looked away from you guiltily. You frown at the both of them.

“Mark?” he ignores your voice.

You felt your heart clench painfully. You didn’t know what you did wrong for him to treat you this way. A disappointed sigh left your lips as you turn around, leaving the underground boxing match.

You rest your back against the brick walls, you felt tears trail down your cheeks. You came here with Mark and was expecting him to drive you home, so you didn’t bring any money with you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your fingers wiping the stray tears.

You fish out your phone, unlocking it but only to see a black screen. You harshly pressed on the button multiple times but it wouldn’t turn on. Great, your phone must’ve died. You look around, trying to find someone who could help you out.

“Are you going to get in?” a deep voice says.

You look up to see Mark standing next to his car.

+++++

A shaky sigh left your lips, brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop leaving your eyes. You look out the window, hoping it would distract you. Another tear rolled down your cheeks.

“Stop crying,” Mark murmurs.

You wanted to scoff at that. How ironic, especially when he was the one who made you cry.

“I’m fucking trying,” you say through gritted teeth.

The car comes to a halt as you see your apartment building outside. However, you didn’t leave his car.

“Did I do something?” you ask. You have been dying to ask the question ever since.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t know y/n, did you?” he responds sarcastically.

“Can you stop that?!” you shout, turning your body to face him, “Just tell me what I did so I can fucking apologize!”

He scoffs at your words, “who was that man? Openly flirting while I was in a match?”

Your brows knit in confusion. Is he being serious?

“Firstly, I don’t know who the hell that man was, and I was definitely not flirting with him,” you explain, “and secondly, you’re not my boyfriend. So, even if I wanted to flirt, I am allowed to.”

This relationship was starting to get confusing.

“We are in the talking stage!” he shouts, “technically you are mine.”

You laugh at that, “really? I can’t flirt with anyone but you’re out here hugging and touching random girls!”

He becomes quiet, looking away from your intense gaze.

You push your hair back, frustrated. “what now, Mark?”

He looks down at his lap, playing with his fingers. He felt like crying— he never cries. “I don’t think this is working out,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I think we should stop seeing each other,”

You feel your lips tremble, tears threatening to fall again. You close your eyes, the tears falling down your cheeks. Your hands clenched into fists, hoping it would stop you from letting out sobs.

“Okay,” you mutter, “I’m going to go,”

When you reached your apartment, your hand immediately rests on the wall, steadying your balance. You couldn’t even breathe properly as you let out loud sobs. Your heart was beating rapidly from your unsteady breathing.

You felt like you were going to die. You didn’t expect this to hurt so much.

You are going to get through this. You will get through this. 

+Day 83

It has been a few weeks since you had last seen Mark. You had spent most of your time in your room crying your eyes out. If it wasn’t that, you would be sobbing on the couch while your friend would try her best to comfort you.

You didn’t have the energy or appetite to eat. Your friend always made you drink lots of water and would sometimes make a sandwich for you.

Your friend had secretly sent text updates to Mark, but he would just ignore them. He was hurting as much as you were. Just by hearing your name, his heart would clench painfully. Mark had spent most of his time at the ring, taking out his frustration by throwing punches and kicks.

You were washing the dishes since your friend had left to support Jaehyun in the underground match. She had invited you to come with her, but you’d rather stay home, knowing Mark would probably be there.

Your phone started ringing. You let out an annoyed sigh, quickly putting the plate on the rack, then walking over to grab your phone. You answer the call.

“What?” you sigh, “I’m busy cleaning, you know?”

“y/n,” your friend breathes heavily. This was weird. “Can you come here?”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion, “what? Why? What happened?”

“Mark passed out,” she tells you.

Your eyes widen, “w-what?”

“He’s going to be sent to the hospital, you need to come, now,”

+++++

“What room is he in? Is he okay?” you ask, looking at your friend and Jaehyun with wary eyes.

“He’s okay,” Jaehyun says, “he’s in the room,” he nods towards the door.

You had tears threatening to leave your eyes. You couldn’t help but let the tears fall. You felt your body grow weak, you squat down, covering your face with your arms as you let out loud sobs.

It was all your fault. If you hadn’t taken care of him more often, none of this would’ve happened.

Your friend frowns at your state. She bends down and pat your back comfortingly. “Go in,” she persuades, “he has been dying to see you,”

You lift your head to look at her, a small pout on your lips. Your friend wipes your tears with her thumb, smiling at you.

Letting out a soft sigh, you stand up, smoothing your hair and your pants. Walking towards the door, you knock softly before sliding the door open. Mark tilts his head, seeing you walk in quietly with your lips pursed.

He didn’t know what to do. Should he send you a smile? Should he act cold?

When you got closer to him, you scan the state he was in. He had his forehead bandage and his arm in a cast. His lips were busted, a plaster on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey,” you say, voice still raspy from the crying earlier, “what happened?”

He clears his throat and looks away from you. He feels bad making you worried. But at the same time, he didn’t expect you to be here.

“Just a few bruises here and there,” he says.

“Mark.”

“It’s nothing, really!” he exclaims.

You glare at him, “fuck you,” you spit. “I came down here because everyone was so worried about you. I was so worried about you. And now that I’m here, you’re going to tell me it’s nothing?”

Mark was unbelievable. God, why do you like him so much?

His eyes soften at your words. He bit his lip nervously, intimidated by you, he slowly looks up at you, “I just don’t want to worry you,”

You scoff, “your job already worries me, Mark.”

He pouts without even realising. He looks down at his lap guiltily, playing with his fingers.

You felt bad for shouting at him. Letting out a huff, you amble closer.

“You’re okay now, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his gaze glued on his lap.

A pregnant silence fills you two, unsure of what to say to each other. You didn’t want to leave, and Mark doesn’t want you to leave. You bit your lips awkwardly as you look everywhere but Mark.

“I think I’ll leave now,” you say, “I have work to do and I don’t want to… disturb you,”

You stare at him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. disappointment fills you when Mark looks away from your gaze. You turn around, ready to leave the room when Mark calls your name.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, “that day,”

You stop in your tracks, your back facing him. Your grip tightens on your sweatpants.

“Mean what?” you repeat, “you suggested it, Mark,”

“I know,” he breathes, “I regret it,”

You missed Mark. You missed his dumb jokes and his annoying laughter which you loved so much. You turn around to look at him.

“I don’t like seeing you this way, Mark,” you confess, “your job scares me, it worries me,”

“What can I do to make you not worry, y/n?” he asks, eyes widening, “should I stop doing it?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you reply harshly, “if you would actually let me stay by your side, it might ease my worries,”

You step closer to the boy, your hand resting on his cheek. He subconsciously lean against your soft hand.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day,” he professes, “I..I didn’t mean what I said,”

You take a seat on the chair that was next to his bed, holding onto his hands tightly. “Then, why would you say that Mark?”

“I just—“ he sighs, “I just didn’t want to lose you to someone else, y/n,” he explains, looking up at you, “we weren’t even dating yet! I just knew that I genuinely like you.”

Your heart clench at his words. “I didn’t like seeing you with other girls either,”

“I know,” he huffs, his free hand going up to ruffle his mop of black hair, “I was just stupid,”

Your thumb strokes his hand comfortingly, “It’s okay. It’s all over now,”

“I don’t want to deal with this anymore,” he tells you, “all this, jealousy and possessiveness.”

Is he going to…?

“I have been dying to ask you this question for the longest time,” he continues, “would you like to be my girlfriend?”

[jarofstyles]

SK8ER BOI - Kickflip

A/N: Here is the first installment our take on bad boy harry! It gets into things pretty quick but there is lots of content to come. Skater boy Harry is essentially what you wish every boy with a nicotine addiction was like featuring Timothée Chalamet as the uninterested boyfriend 🤭 We had a lot of fun writing this story so we hope you enjoy! - n+d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, cheating

word count: 8.5k

Y/N was just an average girl. 

Though some could say she tread on the nerdier side of things, she was neither here nor there as far as social groups at school. No one really bullied her, she sort of just kept to herself and did her work and that was all she needed to get by. Her parents were middle class, working average jobs, and Y/N would likely follow suit. She really wasn’t sure what she wanted to do just yet. Everything was fine in her life, except for the fact that her boyfriend of three years refused to touch her. It was a shame really. She had grown a really strong attachment to him and they used to hang out all the time, but as they got older it seemed like he wanted less and less to do with her. His status as student body president definitely helped her out and well... Everyone had a crush on Timothée. She really wanted to explore with him, wanted to pleasure him and vice versa, bond in a way so many others described. But she just boiled it down to her not being sexy enough for him. She saw the browser history on his computer when he left it out in his bed while showering. He didn’t even try to hide it. Y/N, couldn’t say she didn’t have fantasies about one particular bad boy. Harry. 

Harry was in fact, that skater boy. That one guy that rode his board out of school— until he had gotten his car. He still rode it around the school campus, not at all hiding it. Even at the age of 17, he had gotten tattoos. His parents were wicked cool. They didn’t mind him doing whatever as long as he did well in school, and attended functions like family parties and whatever. They were close, anyways. His father was a well known quantum physicist and his mum, a romance novel author. His group of friends called his home their main hang out area. He had a good head on his shoulder despite what his look may say. He knew people would definitely be judging him and truth be told, he didn’t much care. He was more into what he was working towards versus what high school champs had to say. 

Harry was intrigued when Mr. Beck partnered him with Y/N for a science project, though. She was a very good girl. Known for good grades and dating that class president dude, Timothée. He was pretty sure the dude was 100% gay or at least bi based on the subtle flirting he had initiated with Harry until a few years back when he decided to date Y/N. In his opinion, it was a waste because whenever he saw them, there was no passion. Y/N was hot as fuck— you’d have to be blind to not see it. But he didn’t know what went on behind the scenes. He wasn’t close with her but she seemed chill enough, so he didn’t mind when she was partnered with him. 

“Hey. Come in.” He said politely as he answered the door for Y/N, holding it open and taking her bag. He could hear the little jingle of bells on collars and realized he hadn’t warned her. “Uh— we have a bunch of cats. Is that cool? Or do we need to leave? Sorry, I didn’t think to ask if you were allergic or something.”

“Hi.” Y/N squeaked out, taking a step inside and thanking him for taking her bag. His house was massive! You’d never be able to tell he had a house like this just by looking at him, but the address clearly stated it was his so she didn’t bother leaving and looking for another. The first thing she noticed besides the beautiful interior of the house was the sound of little bells. Y/N turned her head to see about four cats coming towards her and her heart melted. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t know you had kitties!” She quickly dropped down to her knees to greet them, “hi little angels!” She cooed, sticking her hand out for each of them to have a sniff and see if they liked her or not before she went to pet them. She looked up at Harry with a bright smile, “Sorry, my parents never let me have pets after my bunny died in 4th grade because they didn’t want me to go through that emotional trauma again.” She knew it was a bit of an overshare, but that’s just the kind of person she was. Harry looked extremely attractive from this angle, ideas swirling around in her mind about all the things she could do with him. Y/N stood up again, fixing her little overalls before pulling off her shoes and leaving them by the door. She didn’t want to get a nice house like this all messy. She walked up to Harry again, expecting him to lead her towards his room or wherever they wanted to work.

Harry was impressed. All the cats seemed to like her, including Grumpy. He was named that for a reason. His smush face and grumpy look were warnings for how he really didn’t like anyone but Harry and his parents. But he was rubbing against Y/N’s hand and then her leg with a purr. 

“Oh. I’m sorry about your rabbit. It always sucks when they die.” Harry said softly. He wasn’t sure why she told him, but it did make him sad to hear it. He lost a cat a few months back and it did hurt. There was definite emotional trauma in it. “They like you. That’s cool. They’ll probably follow us up. Are you cool with going to my room? That’s where my computer is.” He hadn’t brought it down but his room was his preferred study space. He also didn’t want her to think he was some creep so gave her the option, which she nodded to. “It’s at the top, the attic space so prepare for some steps.” He said sheepishly, picking up her bag again so he could carry it up. “Oof. Are there bricks in ‘ere?” He was teasing.

“I don’t mind.” Y/N felt good about the fact that his cats liked her, she was rather fond of them already so she didn’t mind them coming upstairs with them. She felt herself get all nervous because well... she would be going to Harry’s room. He probably had no idea about the filthy thoughts she had about him, even just watching him walk up the stairs was hot. “No! Just my laptop and notebook... maybe a pencil case... and a water bottle.” Y/N defended, feeling her face get all blushy because she did realize there was quite a lot of stuff in her bag. However, walking up the stairs wasn’t all too difficult. They were perfectly spaced out which was nice, all of the decor in the house was beautiful but still very cozy. The house was definitely lived in. 

His room though? Goodness. 

“Wow...” Y/N mumbled as she stepped up inside. It was amazing. The walls were white but he had a theme of wood and navy, some vintage looking items here and there. Overall she noticed his little reading nook and what seemed to be an astronomy section with bean bags and a telescope. He even had a mini fridge in there and a cupboard... even a microwave! It was a whole little man cave. 

“Yeah, s’nice. It’s my own little place.” He smiled at her reaction, putting her bag down on his bed as he grabbed his laptop and unplugged it from the charger. “Want a water?” He didn’t listen for an answer, rather grabbed her one and handed it to her. His mum had raised him to always give company a drink. “We can work on my bed. The cats will probably come in here and pretend they aren’t looking for attention when they are.” He smirked, going over to his bed and sitting against the headboard like area. She looked shy so he tilted his head, patting the blanket. “C’mon then. Don’t be shy. This isn’t your first time in a boys room, is it?” He couldn’t imagine that Timothée was dating a hot bitch like Y/N and not be tapping it. If she didn’t have a boyfriend he would be trying to get her to know better because she really was gorgeous. But they’d been dating too long and Y/N probably wouldn’t go for that.

Y/N knew that her blush gave away her answer as she went to sit on his bed, not quite next to him though. She was a bit too nervous for that. In her mind she was already sitting on Harry’s lap with his hands gripping at her ass, his perfectly plump lips slotted between her own. Y/N shook her own thoughts out of her head but felt like she needed to answer his question. 

“Maybe it is...” She mumbled, pulling her laptop out of her bag and turning it on. It suddenly got very hot in his room and not just because they were in the attic. Y/N was burning up, his eyes were very obviously on her and she knew he’d ask and she’d definitely confess to him. She’d do anything Harry wanted her to do really, fuck. She just wanted to be touched. Seeing the look of shock and confusion prompted her to explain further despite how anxiety provoking it might have been. “Timmy and I don’t—” Y/N started, looking away feeling all embarrassed. “He won’t...” She couldn’t even say it, she was just that shy and embarrassed.

Oh. Wow. He didn’t.... he didn’t fuck her? Harry thought.

“You’re kidding?” He raised a brow. He understood what she meant. It went from zero to a hundred real quickly but he couldn’t say he was angry about it. He just didn’t understand why. 

Y/N’s face grew incredibly hot, looking up at Harry with a serious but semi spooked expression when he asked if she was kidding. She absolutely wasn’t kidding. If she was kidding she wouldn’t be so damn horny and ravenous. She felt like she could burst all the time, touch starved beyond belief. Sure, he’d kiss her, but never anything too passionate. It would always make him uncomfortable the second they got too hot. 

“How come you’re tellin’ me this? I mean... it’s fine you do, I won’t say shit but, we barely know each other.” He questioned, putting an arm behind his head as he looked expectantly at her for an answer. She was hot. Sexy as fuck, had that innocent good girl appeal and he loved that shit, personally. Timmy. God, the least sexy name to moan in bed. Really. He could only think about the fairy godparents cartoon. Ick. He was surprised though. “You’ve been dating for years, haven’t you?” It definitely wasn’t a Y/N problem. She was blurting things out so if she wanted to, she would have told him.

Y/N’s mouth went dry because well, she had an answer for him, she just wasn’t sure how he’d react. “cause... I know you enough to know you make me really nervous, especially right now.” Y/N was really bad at being sexy, her delivery and flirting was horrible but she hoped he picked up what she was putting down. “Yeah... we’ve been together for three years.” Y/N explained, letting out a deep breath. “It wasn’t so bad at first, but I just—” She was horny. She was so fucking horny it was ridiculous. She’d probably moan if they held hands at this point. “I’ve tried, but he’s not into it I guess.”

Harry could tell she was horny. He could feel it. He just knew. Looking at her, she was a bit antsy. Not able to sit still but most importantly, squeezing her thighs together. No way. She was horny and maybe partly because of him? 

“Not into it? That’s some bullshit.” Harry scoffed. “Not to be weird, but you’re hot as fuck. If he’s not into it he might be gay or is just blind.” He didn’t want to offend her but he had a feeling it was the first. Either way, there had to be a reason for him not wanting to eat the girl alive. Harry had definitely noticed Y/N before. She was cute, kind, had his favorite type of body, and had pretty, full lips. Also, a very cute laugh. She was innocent and he liked that type of vibe. Maybe it was a bit fucked to be aroused by that but hey, he was a teenage boy as well. “Don’t have to be nervous, babe. I don’t bite. Unless asked.” He gave her another smirk. Her blush was cute and her flush reminded him again at how easy it was to work her up. They’d begun working but Harry still had a question of two, and he could feel her hormones— he swore he could. The poor thing. 

Well. There it goes. 

The guy Y/N had been having sexual fantasies about for years calling her hot? Of course she wouldn’t be able to calm down now. Her face hadn’t cooled off, he didn’t really give her a chance to either. She just pulled her hair up into a bun but it didn’t help. Poor girl, you could see it on her neck too. She was just nervous and embarrassed and horny. So so horny. Timmy being gay though? It could be a solid explanation for why he didn’t want to touch her. It’s not like he looked at other girls, he always called her pretty and complimented her looks. Was always okay with cuddling and other platonic stuff.. maybe the kissing was just him trying to make it seem believable. Harry was always around though, sometimes she’d just imagine it was his hair she was carding through, that it was his jaw she was cupping instead of Timmy’s. She loved Timmy, she did, but she wasn’t sexually attracted to him. She tried to be, wanted to be, if he reciprocated maybe she would be? But even having Harry next to her was turning her on. Even hearing him say he didn’t bite unless asked? She could have died, swore she let out a whimper when she shifted. 

“Has he touched you at all?” Harry questioned.

“No, just kissed but like.. nothing crazy.”

“Seriously? He’s holdin’  out on you like that? That’s not fair.” Harry muttered. Fucking crazy. The fact that the guy got one of the hottest girls in school and refused to do anything with her when it was blatantly obvious that she needed a good dicking, more than anything? Negligent, at best. “You said you tried and he’s not into it... what did you try? Was it something weird or just asking?” He was trying to figure this out. “You don’t have to tell me and it’s none of my business but, m’just curious.” He was curious if she was hinting towards Harry taking care of it. Which he would happily do. The poor thing looked like she needed an orgasm more than anything else. He wouldn’t be opposed to a good make out session and finger fuck.

Y/N was surprised by how genuinely shocked he was that nothing was happening between her and Timmy. It made those butterflies spring up in her stomach and go haywire, his tone was suggesting he was curious which was good of course. If he thought she was attractive then... surely she wasn’t the problem. 

“I um...” Y/N was so nervous talking about this stuff, it really wasn’t like her at all. Hearing her say these things out loud made her physically cringe but he did ask. He couldn’t read her mind, could he? “Anytime I’d try to like... grind on him when we kiss and stuff, he’d just stop it.” She explained, feeling her cheeks get all boiling hot again. She regretted wearing a sweater. “I haven’t brought it up to him or anything cause I don’t want him to feel bad.” Y/N was still a sweetheart, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings or make him feel inadequate. She’d been with him for three years, that was quite the long time.

“Jesus. That is either some good control or he can’t get hard. If he can’t, he's definitely not straight, babe.” Harry could be positive about that. Any straight man would be like an eager puppy to get between her legs. Harry included, if that was offered up. “M’sorry. That sucks. So you’ve been sexually frustrated for 3 years then?” He shook his head. “Not to be a dick, but how come you haven’t broken up with him yet? He isn’t meeting your needs. Any good man takes care of their girl. It’s just... how it should be.” Harry couldn’t believe this. “Trust me, you’re hot as fuck. Again, sorry if this is crude but— you’ve got the perfect thighs and probably a gorgeous pussy. Can’t imagine a man not wanting to get his mouth or hands on it. Or your tits. M’sure you’re told that often.” Maybe his vulgar speech would deter her but he had a feeling she would love it.

If someone told Y/N she’d be sitting on a bed with her crush while he told her that she had great thighs, tits, and assumed she had a gorgeous pussy, she would have laughed in their face. Harry looked completely serious too, his own eyes had grown dark and Y/N just felt stuck in shock. 

“Yeah..” She squeaked, swallowing thickly as she tried to focus back on the project but she was just staring at the screen. “He’s my best friend.. I care about him and he’s been there for me through a lot I— I couldn’t just do that.” She didn’t have the heart to break up with him. She needed a proper reason, just so she could feel guilt free. Y/N couldn’t just ask him to help her out could she? He had expressed to her how he felt like any good man took care of their girl's needs and well... she wasn’t his girl but oh did she want to be. As far as Y/N knew, he had slept around quite a lot. He thought she was attractive but he probably thought many girls were attractive. Maybe he’d just fuck anything? 

But she’d been thinking about him for so long.

Harry knew that she was avoiding looking at him because she was aroused by his words. She liked what he had to say and how he said it. It was obvious by her reaction. Which did make him smile a bit. She was flushed and biting her lower lip and he wanted to see just how flustered he could get her. 

“I get that. But how great is he if he’s not taking care of a need you obviously are being deprived of.” Harry muttered. Little French shit. He could fight him for that alone. “Are you horny, Y/N?” He asked. His body shifted so he was properly facing her, closer than before.

She really thought she’d be able to hold it together, but when he asked her flat out if she was horny she knew she couldn’t lie anymore. Y/N has fully shown up to do work and now it was looking like she was going to get an orgasm too? That seemed fake, there’s no way. But he had shifted a bit closer to her, completely forgetting about his laptop. Her eyes snapped to look up at him, swallowing thickly before looking back at her laptop. 

“Maybe.” She offered up shyly. She kept glancing up at him and looking away. She was just that nervous. Y/N couldn’t even pretend she felt bad for liking it either. It wasn’t like she hadn’t given Timmy an option, she was positive he probably would be upset... maybe he would be, but— she couldn’t pass this up, she’d been thinking about it for so long.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Harry couldn’t pass this opportunity up either. Especially because it was a dream. Y/N was exactly his type and he liked her energy. She wasn’t being treated properly by her boyfriend and that wasn’t okay in his book. He knew she would say yes but the whimper made his stomach clench. She was desperate for it. The look on her eyes showed it. His hand came up to feel her face, immediately feeling her cheek lean into his touch. 

“Poor girl. Have been left to fend for yourself for a while. S’not fair to you. Not at all.” He sighed, truly in awe of how any man could let a wet cunt and a woman eager to use it up. “What would you like me to do?” He wanted to coax something out of her. “How worked up are you?”

Y/N’s heart dropped so far it probably fell out of her ass. Hearing him offer to take care of her sent her into a fit of emotions. Her eyes got all floaty, her cunt creating a second heartbeat, her body was naturally leaning towards his and she could have sworn she was dreaming at this point because it was all too good. Of course she agreed, closing her laptop and casting it aside so she could focus on the task at hand. She was far too focused on how good it felt to have his hand on her cheek that she hadn’t registered that he was asking her about what she wanted him to do. Y/N felt her face warm up all over again because she didn’t want to say it outright. It would sound so dirty, she felt like she couldn’t say. She scanned his eyes, waiting for him to say something but he wasn’t letting up. 

“I—I’m really sticky..” She whispered, already feeling shy and embarrassed about all of this. Y/N knew she wasn’t exactly sexy or anything.

Harry knew that she may be embarrassed of how she said things but to him, it was hot. The fact no one else had touched her before and she was going to let him... it was sexy as fuck. Especially because she has a boyfriend who wasn’t up to par with what she wanted.

“S’okay, love. That’s good. Very normal.” He felt himself harden a bit at the visual. “C’mere. Come on my lap.” He motioned for her to straddle him, which she did eagerly. Fuck, this was going to be fun. He was going to teach her some shit. “Why don’t you show me how you like to kiss, sweetheart? Let me see how you want things. Don’t be embarrassed about it either. I promise I’ll find it hot.” He pulled her face down to his and felt his body warm up, her eyes blow and obviously her face warm and eager to get herself touched. “Just kissing for a bit. Then I’ll touch.”’

She wasn’t sure how she was meant to keep her breathing steady when he had so casually just asked her to straddle his lap. Y/N didn’t really think before she moved, surprising even herself with how easily and comfortably she moved into his lap. She felt like everything had gone into slow motion, nodding when he asked her to show him how she liked to kiss. That she could do. 

Y/N was positive he could feel her clench, cunt throbbing at the idea of finally getting to kiss him. She’d been waiting for so long, she felt like she wouldn’t be able to stop once she started. With her face mere centimeters away from his face, she paused for a moment before letting her eyes flutter shut as she leaned in. 

Fuck. 

The pathetic sounding whimpered she released at the feeling had her blushing even harder. Y/N hadn’t made many sounds or answered many of his questions, but that was mostly because she was used to being quiet. This kiss however? God was it perfect. Y/N felt hungry, kissing him with such a desperate need. There was still passion behind it, but she just really wanted him.

Harry could tell this girl was hungry for it. Literally starved for orgasms and he couldn’t help but think about what a damn shame it was that no one had been giving it to her. When her mouth tasted this good and she was so eager and hot in her kisses, he would give her whatever the fuck she wanted. He kissed deep right back, hand wrapping around her hip and pulling her down on to him. She was pleased at that, Harry showing her it was okay to grind. Which, to be honest, may have been a mistake considering how good she was at it. He groaned into her mouth as she rocked and worked her hips, her lips open as she whimpered. 

“S’it good? Think you’re rubbin’ your clit right against my cock like that.” He murmured into her mouth, wanting to talk dirty and see what she would do. What she would respond with.

She couldn’t have imagined it being this good, him kissing her back as if he too had wanted her for all this time. It didn’t feel like this when she kissed Timmy, as awful as it was to say, she was starting to think that maybe Harry was right about him. She was quickly snapped out of those thoughts when his hand pushed her hips down against him. 

“Mmmm” A long whine fell into his mouth, her hips moving at a pretty eager pace. Y/N really wanted to cum. She wanted it so bad she genuinely thought she’d lose it. Of course, she’s made herself cum before, but it felt so different when someone else was involved. Especially that someone being Harry. Y/N felt her cunt throb at the dirty talk. Another pathetic sounding moan fell from her lips and her eyes nearly rolled back in pleasure. “Feels so good.” She whimpered against his lips, desperate for him to touch her. Y/N wasn’t sure what he would do, but having his hands on her? In any way? She would surely lose her mind. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, sticking to his shoulder cause it just seemed right to steady herself. Y/N needs something more.

“Good. You can touch me.” Harry gave her the go ahead. “Wherever you want.” She obviously didn’t know how to do it and he wasn’t going to shame her or want to make her feel uncomfortable. Rather, he slid a hand up her skirt, gently lifting it up and getting his hands into her panties. It was arousing to say the least. His hands held her ass, grabbing at it and helping her move her hips. Holding the bare skin, he squeezed and licked into her mouth, feeling her work her cunt harder and hump a little faster against him. Obviously it felt good to her. “Such a perfect ass, baby.” He whispered, giving her a sweet pet name. “So eager for me. So sweet.” He chuckled, moving to kiss at her neck. She was going to lose it and he liked that he was the one doing it.

Funny how things unfolded exactly how Y/N pictured it in her mind. The second she sat down on the bed she was thinking about straddling him and having his hands on her ass and now that’s exactly what they were doing. It felt so fucking good too. Y/N was trying to hold back her whimpers, but Harry didn’t let up. He just kept licking into her mouth, rubbing and squeezing at her ass as if she wasn’t completely losing it in his lap. Her hands hand hesitantly traveled up to his hair, the way she’d do it to Timmy except... he seemed to respond in a much more appropriate way. Harry seemed to like it, liked it a lot based on the hard squeeze he gave her ass. Y/N let out shaky moans when his lips attached to her neck, she couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Please— I need more.” She pleaded, “feels good, but I need more.. please.” Y/N was begging him to touch her. She wouldn’t tell him explicitly, but if he wanted to lay her down and work his fingers against her she’d like that or even if he wanted to put his mouth to work. Anything, she just needed to cum.

“There we go. Love to hear you ask me.” Harry had been waiting for that begging, and he had gotten it. There was a quick switchover, Harry laying her down and gently moving so he was between her thighs. He would start simple. His finger ran over the soaked through cotton of her pink panties, groaning at the sight. “They’re completely soaked.” He hissed, gently pulling them to the side. He couldn’t stop the deep breath that came when he saw her arousal stringing to the panties when he moved it over. “Fuck me. S’sticky all over your panties. I love that.” He has that effect on her, didn’t he? That was the best part. He had done that. He was going to make her feel the best she ever had. Fingers spread her open, a hum of appreciation coming from his mouth. “Just like I knew it. You’ve got the prettiest pussy... so wet... look how swollen your clit is.” He murmured, thumbing over it. It was visible and his mouth was watering. That pressure on her clit alone had the girl jilting under his touch, making him feel satisfied. His thumb rubbed harder in the sensitive part, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. “So pretty. Fuck. Can’t believe he’s never touched it. Left it for me to play with.”

Thank goodness she was laying down because Y/N was sure she wouldn’t have been able to keep herself up. He had simply lifted her skirt and revealed her panties, he didn’t even think twice. It seemed everything he did just turned her on. She liked that he just took what he wanted but also made sure she was feeling good. Y/N didn’t realize just how wet she was until he started to run his fingers over her and they felt completely slick. Her eyes rolled back, one of her hands gripping at his bed sheets while the other stayed on the nape of his neck tangled into his perfect locks. Her breath hitched, her other hand moving to cover her mouth because she knew she was about to be so fucking loud. Her body practically twitched whenever he rubbed over her swollen clit, his fingers were working magic in her and honestly, she wasn’t even sure if she could do it better herself. 

“Ah!” Y/N whined, her hips bucking up against his touch when she felt herself getting closer. She was so worked up she knew she could cum right then and there if he would let her. Her body was giving it away.

It made Harry all too aware of how stupid Timothée was. He wasn’t touching this cunt? Wasn’t getting these reactions? He had to be gay. There was no other way. 

“You’re so sensitive... fuck.” Harry couldn’t believe she was trusting him. If all people do this to her. It wasn’t like they’d ever been close. They went to each other’s birthday parties in elementary school like all the kids in classes did. But that was about it. Thank god for anatomy. 

“Just relax, love.” He muttered, spreading her legs further as he got comfortable. “This is gonna feel really good. Just do what feels right. Can pull on my hair... be as loud as you want, please. Love to hear I’m going a good job.” He smirked, holding her thighs open as he licked one thick stripe up her cunt.

“Oh— oh my god!” Y/N gasped loudly when she felt his wet tongue on her cunt. Her legs twitched from the pleasure that was spiking now that he was focused in her clit. Her hand traveled down to tug at his hair as suggested, her whole body reacting to his actions. She’d never felt anything like this before, felt like she was dreaming. At first she was a bit shy with the noises she was making, but he clearly didn’t like that, immediately increasing the pressure and speed and sticking to it so that she was a moaning mess for him. Y/N knew that if anyone was home they’d think someone was being tortured but god— it was nothing but sweet sweet pleasure. When Y/N played with herself on her own she never pushed her limits like Harry was doing. She was so sensitive and she knew that, but he was purposely working over her most sensitive spots so she was writhing and twitching beneath him. “Ah— mmmm—“ Y/N whined out, “Harry!” She gasped, feeling herself falling over the edge quite rapidly. Her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, it was so incredibly fast she wasn’t ready for that at all. Her moans were high pitched and whiny, her breathing heavy as she tried to get air in her lungs. She held herself back too, felt like she was going to pee on him if he kept going.

Harry kept going. 

If this was her first orgasm by someone else, her first proper orgasm? She was going to get the best one. He knew she was sensitive— could feel it in her shaking thighs, but he was a man of conviction. He went full on, suckling on her clit. The way she was reacting was beautiful, a soundless scream followed by his name and shudders. However— he wasn’t expecting her to squirt. It was the hottest damn thing he had ever experienced in his life. Her first orgasm and she was cumming that hard, Harry pulling back and rubbing her clit hard as she continued to leak. 

“Fuuuuuck, yes. Give it to me, sweetheart.” He groaned. Holy fuck. He hadn’t expected it to turn out like this at all but he wasn’t going to complain.

The sound that escaped her even shocked Y/N. A loud, borderline pained, scream left from her throat and her eyes squeezed shut. Her breathing was shaky, her hands having moved to cover her face because holy fuck was she overwhelmed. It was a lot. Y/N didn’t think it was humanly possible to cum that hard, and he just kept going. She was so sensitive it hurt, especially when he started rubbing on her clit after she seemingly peed on him but, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she thought he liked it. Y/N was in an endless stream of whimpers and throaty moans, he didn’t seem like he was giving up any time soon and she wasn’t sure if she could handle another. 

“It hurts—” She whimpered out, moving her hands from her face to grip at the pillow behind her. “But it feels so good.” Y/N was completely fucked. So gone for, the hormones and endorphins overcoming her. He seemed to know what he was doing, so she let him continue. She didn’t want him to stop if she was going to keep feeling like this.

“God, you’re so good. Letting me do whatever I want... we’re so deprived before, weren’t you?” Harry was shocked. The fact she was letting him continue, shaking but loving every bit? He was happy. Damn. Finally, a girl who could keep up with him and she had to be taken. “You okay?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over her clit lazily. His mouth had kissed at her thighs, biting down gently on one. “Hm.. can I mark here?” It wasn’t like her boyfriend was gonna see it. “And you don’t mind if I get myself off, do you?” He wanted to cum on her thighs or her stomach. His cock ached in his pants and he had no problem just getting her off, but he needed to cum. Of course he wouldn’t ask her to do anything, though. Despite it all, he respected her. She was a good girl. He was tainting her a bit but, she was happy to be tainted.

Y/N nodded her head to let him know she was okay, but he didn’t seem happy with her nodding, he wanted an answer. “Yes.” She whimpered out an answer to all of the things that he asked, still breathing shakily and twitching whenever the tension built up enough. The slow rubbing on her clit was still bringing her lots of pleasure, it made her want to cum again and that freaked her out. Could she really take that much? She’d never seen a cock in person before. Only even in porn but she didn’t watch that either because it made her feel yucky. Y/N swallowed thickly, seeing just how big he was. Holy shit. That was meant to fit inside someone? She already had trouble sticking her fingers in, but that? However, she was interested in watching him. Y/N watched him with loopy eyes, knowing for a fact she’d worship him after this. If he let her come back for more she happily would. Hell, she’d follow him around like a puppy if he kept making her feel like this.

It was probably the hottest hook up Harry’s ever had. Truth be told. He was in shock that Y/N was so needy for it and the fact she had let him be the one to play with her, to get her off, it was astonishing. There was nothing hotter than watching her legs open and pussy pulsing a bit from the intensity of her orgasms. 

“Mmm... you’re fucking hot.” Harry hissed, stroking himself as he bit down on her thigh. She let out a yelp that turned into a whine as he sucked a mark on to the softness of it, smirking when she rutted into his finger. After that though, he decided to take things up. “M’not gonna go in. Just... relax.” He rested himself against her cunt and rubbed the tip against her clit as he stroked himself heavily, hissing when her slickness covered him. It made it easy to stroke. “Jesus, you’re good. Feels good, hm? Better than your own fingers?” He knew it was. She looked fucked out, hips bucking into his own as he approached his own orgasm. Would it be too far to cum on her cunt? “Can I... fuck, can I cum on your cunt?” He had originally wanted her tummy or her thighs but seeing his cock against her now... he felt a bit primal.

Y/N had never expected this. This was the farthest she’d gone with anyone and the fact that it was with the guy that she’d been fantasizing about for years? It felt so unreal, definitely added to the intensity of her orgasms. Having him mark her? In a place where she’d be the only one to find it? That made her cunt throb. He started rubbing himself on her and she felt like that was a whole other level of horny. He felt so good against her, Y/N didn’t think she was that hot but Harry seemed to think so and that was enough to get her to feel confident enough to answer him with her full voice when he asked to cum on her cunt. 

“Yeah... you can cum on me..” Y/N didn’t have it in her to say cunt yet, but baby steps nonetheless. Harry was so hot, he looked so good above her. They weren’t even naked, just their lower halves, which in a way made it hotter because they were just that needy. His face was still slick with her, and that was something she couldn’t get over. 

It was apparent that Y/N didn’t know just how hot she was and that was a goddamn shame in Harry’s opinion. Because she was. She was so hot and he was sure that this wasn’t going to be the only time they had fun. 

“Fuck.. fuck.” He hissed as he began to cum on her. There was nothing like watching his cum stripe over her, soiling it with the white cream. It only made his orgasm better, a groan leaving him as he ran his cock through the slit and pressed against her clit again. “Fuck me, that’s so hot.” He whispered, mouth open at just how good it looked. When he saw her gawking at it, her tits moving under the fabric of her top, he smirked. “Want to taste it?” He ran two fingers through the mess.

Watching Harry cum was definitely the hottest thing Y/N had ever seen, the sounds he released and his scrunched up face was enough to make her shudder. On top of that, the feeling of hot cum ribboning over her cunt was something that she again couldn’t explain. It felt good, satisfying, especially because he seemed to be dying over it.

“Yes.”

It was a quiet squeak of an answer but it was an answer. Y/N was curious, she wanted to know what he tasted like and had a feeling that he too wanted her to try. If she didn’t like it she’d pretend to like it, but holy fuck she did actually like it. It was salty, a strange texture, but definitely not the worst thing she’d ever had in her mouth. It had its own taste, but she enjoyed that. Her mouth was wrapped around his fingers, gently licking and sucking the cum off his fingers while watching his eyes. He seemed to like this a lot too. Y/N was learning quite a bit, mostly that Timmy was definitely gay. But she didn’t just want to confront him like that that wouldn’t be fair. As soon as she was done, Harry kissed her again. This time it was more gentle than before. A kiss of appreciation. That was some good shit. Harry hadn’t been with someone who was a virgin and didn’t realize how horny they got— maybe it was just Y/N, though. He could have been having this and he didn’t. 

It was a good thing for Harry though. He got to have what he wanted and while he knew that was a lot, he didn’t really care that he could potentially hurt his feelings. He had made Y/N feel inadequate anyways. 

“Let me clean you up.” He murmured, smiling when she pouted when he pulled away. He was gentle with it, wiping her clean with tissues next to his bed. When she jumped, he chuckled. 

“Sensitive, I know.” He was smug about it though. Yes. He had done that. Though it was a shame she was too sensitive to clean it with his tongue. He would have been down.

The kiss was definitely something that Y/N needed. It was a nice little reminder that Harry was a gentleman and that she hadn’t just gone and done stuff with someone who was a complete asshole. Y/N always knew that Harry was a good guy, sure she’d heard rumors about him and knew he had gotten around and did drugs, but never had she heard about him being mean. Even when cleaning her up he was gentle, but of course she felt all shy again because she was laying fully exposed in front of the guy she had a crush on who had just made her cum three times within the span of 20 minutes. It was a lot. She’d completely forgotten about the fact that she was here to do an anatomy project. Y/N stayed quiet for the most part, letting him clean her up. Once she was finished she slipped on her panties again, though it felt quite dirty because they were still soaking wet. She’d need to take a shower when she got home. “Thank you.” She told him, feeling herself blush all over again.

“You’re welcome. Do you want a pair of boxers or something to wear instead of your panties?” Harry didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. At the relieved look on her face, he chuckled and went to his drawer, grabbing his smaller pair. “Here. May be big on you but, better than being uncomfortable.” He threw them to her and grabbed his water bottle, taking a sip before sitting down. “Want to do this project then?” Now that the sexual tension was at least fixed for a bit, he was happy to get to work. He wanted to see her get a good grade too. It didn’t have to be weird. 

“Oh, thanks.” Y/N smiled bashfully and stood up to change into them. There was no need for her to be all shy about it anymore. Y/N put her dirty panties to the side, taking a sip of her water bottle as well because lord knows she needed up. She was definitely a lot looser after their little activities, much more relaxed and open to talking and working. 

It really did feel better after they'd fucked around. Harry noticed that Y/N was more loose and seemed to feel more at ease now that he’s had his mouth on her pussy. They’d done a bit today and he was sure he would be on her mind for a long time after she left, which made him smug. 

----

They were finishing up when he asked for her number. “Put yours in. Dunno if you want to do this again but... I wouldn’t mind.” Harry would love it.

Y/N was already thinking about doing this again. Now that all her initial nerves were out of the way, she felt like I’d be easier for her to do things with him. She’d probably never initiate it again like this until she was this desperate, but whenever he wanted her again, if he did, she’d happily come over. She typed in her number and texted herself.

“The project or?” Y/N was a bit stupid sometimes, she didn’t want to assume he wanted to but based on the look on his face she figured he meant the other thing. “Oh, yeah— I um... I’d like that very much.” She said and finished putting her stuff away. “Thanks again... I’ll see you.” Y/N spoke when he walked her down the stairs and out the door. 

She’d left her panties in his room.

He had come upstairs to find the lovely gift that was left. Sure, it wasn’t on purpose but it was his now. He’d let her know that. They smelled like her and damn, it was good. Stuffed in his side drawer, he sat and absorbed the whole thing. Maybe he should feel guilt for having her cheat. But she needed it. The poor girl was nearly frothing at the mouth with need for sexual release and something about him tickled her. He couldn’t say no to that. Especially when she was so excited to do it and so responsive. 

Later that night he texted her. 

‘Hey, it’s Harry’

‘Did you want to come over again on Friday and work?’ He snickered at that. They’d work but... he knew by Friday she would be wanting more. 

‘Also, appreciate the gift you left. They’re lovely. Xx’ He sent a picture of the waistband of the panties in his hand.

On the bike ride home Y/N felt herself whimper every time she went over a bump. Harry had definitely done a number on her and she couldn’t have been more thankful. She texted Timmy when she got home, asking him about how he was and how his day was as usual though, she was surprised she didn’t feel really guilty. By the time she had showered and freshened up, she saw that she’d received texts back from both of them, but of course she wanted to answer Harry’s first. 

‘Hii! yeah, I can do that!’

‘oh my god 🤭’

She left them at his house? Fuck. She should have just put them in her bag but... she did have his boxers, so it didn’t really matter did it? Timmy had texted her back responding with how his day went saying he was super busy getting ready for his re-election campaign. It was his way of saying they wouldn’t really be able to hang out. She told him that she was sad but that she’d see him at school. Realistically she knew she needed to talk to him, but she wanted him to be able to tell her I’m his own time. She’d stop trying to have sex with him, only if he tried though.

‘I’ll be having fun with them. They’re in great hands. Don’t worry.’

He was smug about it for sure. But still, he couldn’t help but feel beyond happy about it because perhaps he had found a new person to fuck around with. Sure, he liked hook ups at parties but he had wanted a designated person to be around and fuck with. And Y/N was a cool chick. He hadn’t paid too much attention to her before, only to notice she was hot and also questioning why she was dating that kid. But the closer he got, the hotter she was. And fun to be around after she chilled out. She hadn’t mentioned being surprised by his room and the kind of nerdy star stuff in it. So he liked her a bit more for that. 

‘Good. Come over on Friday and we can work late. My dad’s away and my mom is on her book tour shit, so we’ll be alone, if that’s cool w you?’

Was he? He was flirting a bit wasn’t he? Y/N wasn’t exactly sure but him suggesting that his parents would be away and that they would be alone in his house again made butterflies erupt in her stomach. She was really excited to see his cats again and hang out, they’d likely finish another part of their project and likely fuck around a bit and that made her nervous all over again. 

‘Okaaay sounds good :) ’

She set her phone on her stomach and just looked up at the ceiling. Holy shit. Y/N couldn’t wait for Friday now, excited to see what else he’d have in store for her. She was simply excited to get to know him a bit more, he was hiding a lot of stuff from people from school. Of course she noticed all the astronomy shit in his room, saw the tons of books that he had with sticky notes showing they were clearly annotated. There was a lot more to him than met the eye.

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

[part 2]

A/N: Without giving too much away, yes, skater boy harry is bi and is whore for astronomy but we’ll get into that later ;) - n+d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

[bigskydreaming]

Something else to keep in mind is the way things compound? Like for instance, I’ve seen a mini trend of fics lately focusing on the issue of Dick dropping out of college or not wanting to go, which for the record, I feel is another way of building up to the idea that he and Bruce have all these fights during this period that are two way streets instead of like....what canon actually was (reminder that in the canon that Dick actually dropped out he and Bruce actually were never really NOT on good terms, like there’s never been a big fight in the comics about this topic so.....incheresting).

But anyway, my point is its worth keeping in mind that how you frame something at one point in a narrative like.....ideally, you want it to mesh up and align with other things you’ve brought up throughout the narrative, and not accidentally contradict yourself narratively.

I mean, this is really the big gripe most Dick Grayson fans have with his fanon characterization overall:

The fact that it just doesn’t make sense.

In Jason-centric fics that are after his resurrection, how often is Jason utterly convinced that Dick can’t even wipe his ass without Bruce’s approval? And yet in Jason-centric fics that are before his death, how often is Jason thinking about how Dick and Bruce are constantly fighting and Bruce can’t seem to do anything without Dick objecting? Reconcile these two things. They make no sense.

Same thing with fics that talk about Dick being the emotional glue of the family, the one keeping a cool head to calm down everyone else when they’re all taking shots at each other.....until randomly he just pops off without warning because he’s just that hot-tempered. These things mesh, how?

Same thing with Dick being frequently referenced as idealized by the hero community......but every time he interacts with someone like Roy or Kori or other Titans he can’t seem to avoid pissing them off and creating epic grudges. Make it make sense.

Or how Dick disliked or didn’t care about Jason to the extent that he only references him as a cautionary tale because of one line in canon......but the whole damn story where he kills the Joker because of Jason doesn’t count.

Or how its not okay to blame Dick for his own rapes but both of his major breakups which are intrinsically linked to the actions of his rapists like....were clearly and objectively all his fault somehow.

Dick Grayson fans aren’t on board with most of fanon because you can’t sell people on a constantly conflicting characterization that makes no sense and has no internal consistency.....you can only cater to people who don’t NEED to be sold on that because they’ve already decided they’re down with hating a character or largely ignoring him.

And I think people have gotten so used to not thinking twice about contradictory takes on Dick Grayson that they unintentionally undermine their own fics by contradicting themselves without even realizing it.

Like its ridiculously common to come across fics that reference Dick being beloved and charming everyone at the society galas they all have to go to.....but these fics take pot shots at Dick’s name, fashion, mannerisms etc all throughout it just because the author likes it or fans expect it or whatever reason.

But actually THINK about it:

Think how snobby the socialites at these galas are characterized as being any time its Jason their noses are turned down at.....and then look at like.....the constant jokes you as the author make YOURSELF at Dick’s very name, fashion and circus origins......how on Earth does it make ANY sense that these same people aren’t doing the same damn thing about Dick? That they’re actually any more fond of him than they are Jason, if no matter how charming he might be in the moment, the second he turns around its just as easy and likely for them to make a joke about his circus background or name as it is for writers and readers? If you can’t resist doing it, you really think snobby one percenters would bother in-universe?

Hell, they’d be more likely to hate him BECAUSE of his name, his fashion, etc.....because think of how often people not so subtly infer that he’s making a bad choice when he refuses to go by a different name, or dress more accordingly to normal fashions, etc.....

Dick has a million ways he could more easily fit in with the society he was brought into and ease his passage through it, but he puts his foot down at practically every opportunity. The idea that everybody is just dazzled by him at these galas makes no sense because the most consistent character choice made by Dick throughout the decades is that he refuses to CONFORM to others’ expectations of what he should be like. 

EVERY SINGLE CHOICE he makes from his name to his wardrobe to his costumes to his education to his city to his living arrangements and on and on is in complete and utter DEFIANCE of what people expect of the eldest son or ward of Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham, and that’s by Dick’s conscious and consistent choice. He knows damn well how to be more what people want or expect of him, and that’s not what he wants so he says mmmm but also how bout no.

Dick constantly embodies the idea that you can take the boy out of the circus but you can not and will not take the circus out of the boy no matter what environment you place him in or who you surround him with. He will not allow it. He will not play along.

In what universe is that going to endear him to the very people who would most likely view his choice to prioritize the very things they look down upon as something he consciously PREFERS over their projected expectations or assumptions?

Its not.

Personally, I think Gotham high society despises Dick Grayson no matter what they pretend to his face, and he’s perfectly aware of it. And probably gets some kind of trollish glee out of it because fuck them too, anyway.

(And all of that is WITHOUT even taking into account the fact that a good number of the people at these society galas all along were looking at Dick as their future property, given that they were Owl members who knew all along what they intended for their Gray Son. These people simply do not view and treat Dick as an equal. Its impossible. There’s no way).

Or then back to the idea of Bruce and Dick’s fights in his later teenage years being a two way street....

The core problem at the root of all this is the very idea of a two way street implies a certain give and take. A clashing of equals.

And that’s just not the reality in ANY continuity.

Because the question is, in any given fight between Dick and Bruce in ANY canon....

When does Dick ever WIN these fights?

When does Dick get the outcome he wants OVER what Bruce wants? When does Bruce ever cave? When is it NOT Dick leaving the manor without getting what he came for, or even being kicked out? When has Dick ever been able to say no, I’m NOT fired, or no, I’m NOT giving you control over what happens with Robin. Even when he DOES confront Bruce on these matters, Bruce STILL infamously never caves. He never actually apologizes or admits wrongdoing, he still usually tells Dick to leave. Like I said, basically the only time Dick’s ever got the upper hand in an argument was over the college thing and that time it wasn’t even a fight! Bruce didn’t actually care that much! That was the good timeline! LOL.

But there’s never actually a reversal. There’s no real precedent for Bruce caving to a teenage Dick Grayson and saying hey you know what, you’re right here, I’m overstepping or I’m in the wrong or I’m the one who doesn’t know what he’s talking about because our divergent life experiences here have mine as less relevant to the issue in question than yours do?

It doesn’t happen.

And here’s the problem with that:

Dick’s a literal genius. Every member of the Batfam is. Its how they’re able to do what they do. They’re ALL smart as fuck, capable as fuck. Put any of them in any other situation where they’re the only Bat present, and everyone usually defaults to them. They know what to do, they know what call to make, their approach is borne out by the narrative as being the correct approach. Their intelligence and strategy is validated by the narrative, with Dick being no exception here. In fact he’s particularly NOTED within canon narratives for being the guy everyone in the DC universe trusts to lead them.

Now.....imagine being this guy, who while although still a teenager, is in his late teens, and has YEARS of leading his own team under his belt. Years of being responsible for the lives of teammates and civilians. Years of becoming aware of and comfortable with his own natural brilliance. Years of becoming confident in being capable of making the right call when the situation demands it. Years of learning to TRUST in his ability to make the right call, to know the right approach, because not only are people relying on him to make those calls, he needs to be able to trust he can make them in order to have the confidence to follow through and DO so instead of being frozen with indecision or trying to pass the decision off to someone else, which he NEVER does?

With all that....and even with all due respect to Bruce’s own genius and experience....

What are the chances that in all the times that Bruce and Dick clash in his late teenage years....

Dick is NEVER right?

And yet.....when in any of these conflicts.....is he ever validated in that, versus shut down by Bruce who insists his way is still right?

Imagine being an acknowledged genius with years of experience and responsibility under your belt, but NEVER getting to be right in any arguments with your father, even when just based off pure freaking statistics, its frankly impossible for you to be 100% wrong EVERY SINGLE TIME?

Do you see where the two way street thing starts to fall apart? How can it truly be a two way street if part of the reason the two of them so often end UP aggressively opposed to each other during this time period.....is because of how many times previous encounters have only ended ONE way no matter WHAT?

It makes sense for Dick and Bruce not to clash as much during their younger years, because even the most stubborn kids do understand on a fundamental level that they have things to learn from more experienced adults. And Dick has never been someone mindlessly predisposed towards conflict. He didn’t become an exceptional acrobat by the age of eight by butting heads with his parents every time they tried to teach him, he couldn’t have. He KNOWS how to listen, he KNOWS how to acknowledge when someone else is right. 

But as he grows older, when he has more and more experience under his belt, more and more confidence in his own insights in large parts thanks to Bruce’s own efforts in buttressing his confidence in his younger years.....what happens when the balance of who is right and who is wrong in their arguments NEVER EVER starts to shift in his direction even a little bit, no matter HOW much more experienced he seems to get....and what happens when communicating this problem, this imbalance, to the person that really matters here, Bruce himself....still inherently requires Bruce accepting blame and acknowledging even just in THIS case, the idea that he’s not always right at this point and Dick has insights that can challenge his?

Of course there’s going to be more and more conflict....but can you truly argue that its a two way street, even just based off THIS? Is the teenage son truly to blame for being frustrated that he’s not allowed to ever be right, because the thing getting in his way is his father never ever being willing to back down or cave or not have the last word?

This is the sort of inherent contradiction I think lies at the heart of a lot of conflicting viewpoints here. It doesn’t matter how much lip service is being paid to the idea that Dick is intelligent, that Dick is respected, if all your content continually bears out the idea that actually no he’s not, because Bruce is always right, Dick never is in the right in arguments or conflicts.

The latter evidence just is not aligning with the former claims, and thus readers are innately forced to make a choice as to which to believe.....and more likely than not, they’re going to err on the side of substantiating whichever stance actually has more narrative support behind it, in any particular story.

See what I’m saying?

You need to make sure your story is ACTUALLY saying what you think you’re saying or you intended to say....or you end up undermining your own intentions.

Anyway. Just throwing that out there. 

[levitatingbiscuits]

How would Anakin and the others react if they ever found out the truth about OB-1?

Kenobi was a cockroach. A thorn in Sidious’s side that never fell out no matter how many deadly missions the kindly old chancellor personally requested that he take. One might think that the exhaustion would make him sloppy, if nothing else, but Kenobi handled everything Sidious threw at him with a dogged determination and competence that seemed beaten into his DNA. At times he acted more like a droid programmed to be the perfect Jedi than a real, flawed sentient; obedient and selfless to a fault, utterly unwilling to advocate for himself but frustratingly eager to advocate for others. His Force signature never wavered, never fell out of balance no matter how Sidious stacked the scales. 

Surely Kenobi must have some weakness, a psychological hangup to exploit or some emotional scar to rip back open. Sidious hired someone to slice into his Temple records, then hired a bounty hunter to take care of the slicer.

What he found was intriguing, but frustratingly incomplete. Wide swaths of the record from his time as a padawan were vague to nonexistent. There was nothing indicating why Jinn had taken him on in the first place, nor why he hadn’t returned to Coruscant at all for the first few years of his apprenticeship.

Sidious knew how to hide things. It made him very good at sniffing out others’ secrets.

Weeks of snooping eventually led to Halle Burtoni, the senator from Kamino, who told him the delicious truth of the matter without even having to be bribed or threatened for it. She was eager to brag; the Jedi clone was Kamino’s most successful product.

And so Sidious kept the truth to himself, waiting for the most opportune moment to twist it to his will.

-

Rex shares an eye roll with Cody when Skywalker steps out of the command tent to take a “very important comm message.” It’s either the chancellor or Senator Amidala; Skywalker never answers that quickly for anyone else.

General Kenobi stands hunched over the holotable, projecting the terrain where the newest Seppie stronghold is. The locals are, as usual, worse than useless when it comes to defending their own planet, so Kenobi’s brow is already pinched even though they haven’t yet seen combat.

Rex is never sure how to help his oldest brother when he gets like this. With any other brother he would; ages hardly mattered among the rest of the vode, but Kenobi holds both seniority and authority over the rest of them. He takes his role as ori’vod, as their protector and leader, seriously, even though most of the GAR don’t realize the meaning behind it. 

Rex can’t understand it. His brothers are the most important thing in the galaxy to him, but Kenobi gets all of the responsibility with none of the brotherhood. He’ll respect his wishes to keep it quiet, all the same.

Skywalker comes storming back into the tent, scowl thunderous and saber ignited, and Rex jumps to attention--has there been an attack? 

“Anakin?” the general asks, straightening up. “What’s--”

And then Skywalker levels the saber at a startled General Kenobi.

Cody’s hand is immediately on his blaster, but he doesn’t draw. Rex doesn’t either. He has no idea what to do.

“What in the Force’s name has possessed you now? Were you eating strange bugs again?” Kenobi demands irately. He makes no move to draw his own saber. His trust in Skywalker is, even in this situation, absolute.

“Shut up,” Skywalker snarls. “Captain, Commander, restrain this man.”

“General Skywalker, I cannot allow you to do this,” Cody snaps, shoulders tense with anger.

“He’s an impostor!” Skywalker yells. “A clone!”

Rex’s stomach sinks like a tubie learning to swim. If Skywalker hadn’t known Kenobi was a clone beforehand--if nobody had realized but him--

“He replaced Obi-Wan for kriff knows how long, and no one noticed!” Behind the mask of rage, Skywalker’s eyes are frightened. “I didn’t notice!”

Rex had. Rex had noticed almost as soon as the damn war started.

Cody, who doesn’t know that it was the clone who had earned his loyalty instead of the natborn, jumps to cuff him after that. Kenobi doesn’t struggle. Rex starts to help a few seconds later, mind a screaming void of panic and guilt, and his heart clenches when Kenobi cuts him a concerned, questioning glance.

This may be a Seppie spy, may be an enemy that Rex helped, but he’s still acting like a brother.

“I suppose I always knew it would come out eventually,” Kenobi says once he’s chained to the center tent pole. He doesn’t sound mocking or angry or even worried. He sounds resigned.

“Drop the act,” Skywalker orders. “You’re not Obi-Wan, stop pretending to be him.” He looks deeply unsettled. Rex has only ever known the clone Kenobi, but Skywalker must have grown up with the original. 

Kenobi meets his eyes steadily. “This is what I was made for. I’ve always been him.”

“I don’t care what the Separatists told you, you are not him,” Skywalker says. 

For the first time, Kenobi looks surprised. “The Separatists? I wasn’t commissioned by the Separatists, that’s ridiculous.”

Skywalker is incensed, but Cody looks ashen. This must be overwhelming for someone who thought Kenobi was a natborn until a minute ago. There’s also the sobering implications of a third party with the power to dispose of, and replace, a Jedi Master, without anyone noticing. How many more Jedi could be plants?

Surprisingly, it’s Kenobi who breaks the silence. “I understand your... reservations, but this frankly seems like an overreaction. We are in the middle of a campaign, Anakin--”

Skywalker backhands him across the face. The loud crack that reverberates through the tent tells Rex that it’s with the metal one.

“Shut up, meat droid!” Skywalker roars. Rex feels sick and hot hearing that term from his general. “You aren’t him, so stop acting like it.”

Kenobi breathes deeply through his nose for a second. His lip is split. “I understand that my discovery means that I will be decommissioned, as per contract, but I must advise that doing so in the middle of a war is a waste of resources.”

It is very, very strange to hear High General Kenobi talk about being decommissioned so frankly. Every other clone is terrified of being decommissioned, of being recycled into raw organic matter for more clones to be grown from, like natborns are of death. Kenobi talks like he’s always known it would happen eventually.

“You are vastly overestimating your own importance, clone,” Skywalker says, and Rex has to fight not to flinch at the anguish that darts across Kenobi’s face. “Tell me where Obi-Wan is.”

“Dead,” Kenobi says, the word as loud as a detonation. “He’s been dead for years.”

Skywalker stumbles back. “No,” he says, voice trembling. “No, I would have known. I would have felt it.”

“How could you have felt it?” Kenobi pleads, “Anakin, you have me.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

-

The interrogations continue for days. The men are confused and restless, the campaign indefinitely put on hold. The 212th are especially restless, having gone days without word from their general. Even Cody drifts aimlessly around the camp without saying much to anyone. Rex thinks he’s mourning, but doesn’t know how to tell him that he probably never even met the prime version of his general without getting decommissioned himself for not reporting General Kenobi’s clone status sooner. 

Rex and Skywalker are the only ones who go into the command tent, now. Rex technically isn’t supposed to, but Skywalker definitely isn’t following POW protocol and Kenobi won’t be able to answer any questions if he doesn’t at least get water.

Rex goes there now, once it’s past dark and Skywalker is holed up in his own tent. The 501st clones guarding the tent look just as conflicted as he feels; he doesn’t envy them for having to listen to the interrogations. Not many of the men know who’s in there, because if too many of the 212th find out there will be a real risk of widespread mutiny. Hell, learning that their general is a clone would just make them more loyal, not less.

Kenobi’s face is so bruised, beaten, and bloodied that it’s almost unrecognizable. He thinks that’s probably why Skywalker did it in the first place.

Rex kneels next to the tent pole to help Kenobi sip from a canteen, and is shamefully relieved that he doesn’t bother opening either black eye. His hands are still bound behind his back; it looks like Skywalker’s broken a few of his fingers. From the way he winces when Rex touches him, he’s probably broken more than just that.

“Sir, you have to answer his questions,” Rex whispers, both to avoid being overheard and to keep his voice from wavering. “I... I’m worried Skywalker is going to kill you.”

“Oh, he definitely will,” Kenobi rasps once he’s chugged the whole bottle. His chuckle is wry and forced. “No use denying the inevitable.”

“Why can’t you tell us who commissioned you? Are they a threat to the Republic?”

“No, he was just as loyal as you or I,” General Kenobi says. That’s all he’s said to Skywalker for the past few days: I am loyal to the Republic. He learned pretty quick that saying anything else that wasn’t an answer to a direct question wouldn’t end well. “And even if he weren’t, he’s long dead.”

“As long dead as your prime?”

“No,” Kenobi says, beaten face unreadable but body tense, “Not quite so long as that.”

Rex scrubs a hand over his shorn head in frustration. “Why are you protecting him, if he’s dead? You’re the only one who will be hurt if you refuse to talk.”

“Because Anakin would be hurt,” Kenobi says softly. “Anakin worships him. Loves him far more than he loved me, if he ever truly did.”

Rex wants to refute that. Anyone who’s seen them interact before this fiasco would know just how deeply Skywalker respects and trusts his master, but...

All those feelings are for the prime. They are not for the clone that took his place, so fully and flawlessly that even the man who loved him best never noticed. 

“So Skywalker knew him?” Rex probes. The general’s silver tongue is looser than normal today.

“I doubt anyone truly knew him but me. No one ever suspected... no one cared enough,” Kenobi murmurs, head slumping to the side. Rex puts a gentle palm on the least bloody part of his forehead, and hisses when he finds it hot.

“Kriff, you’re burning up, vod. You need a medic.”

Kenobi doesn’t respond. He might be unconscious.

Rex sits in a dark tent with a cloned Jedi, a brother, who might be dying right beside him, and makes a choice.

The comm takes a while to connect (come to think of it, Rex has no idea what time it is in the senate district on Coruscant) but then there’s Fox, looking sleep deprived and livid, as always.

“CT-7567? What the hell is going on with the Open Circle fleet? You haven’t contacted the Order in a week, the senate thinks you’re either dead or MIA.”

“Vod, you have to help me,” Rex begs, surprising Fox into silence. “Contact the council. Tell them Skywalker is killing General Kenobi.”