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white-poppie · 10 months ago

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𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎯⎯⎯ Part II of the '𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇' series

SYNOPSIS: In the bleakest times of your life, there kindled a little ember in you. Tsukiko, moon child, you were coping, one way or another. But dark clouds claw at the litte light of hope in your life as you come face to face with Suguru again.

TW: crying, teen-pregnancy, panic attacks, lactation, depression-like symptoms, post-partum, adoption,, self-loathing, su!c!dal ideation, jealousy, mentions of suguru's twisted ideals of a perfect jujutsu society, big sad :(

A/N: Thank you for all the support to this series!! Ps! look out for the symbolism in objects, i used big brain power lol. Plus I am sooooo sorry for delaying this so much

NOTE: reader is in her last year so she'd be around 17-19 :) This big sad will build up to happiest happy in the last part so bear with me.

WC: 4k lmaooo

Series masterlist Pt1: 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Part 3 Now playing: Part 2

The child, a baby girl, lay giggling and cooing in your arms as you look down at her with warmth in your eyes. She's the spitting image of an angel with her wide and expressive eyes, her small nose, a sharp arch exactly like her father, pink flushed cheeks and a tuft of soft dark black hair on her head…She looks exactly like Suguru.

She is a talkative baby, her little pink lips opening and closing wit soft 'pops', thats quite literally talking, what even is the difference when you are holding a squishy 2 month old? Her hands and movements are disoriented, jerky, flailing her chubby little arms and legs without care.

Her tiny hand reaching up to grab at your strands of hair, her big eyes looking curiously at your hair, observing how it moves with her tiny wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart, let mama do shopping for you." you whisper to the tiny baby strapped to your chest as you go around picking the essentials

She looks up at your voice, her lips almost forming a little pout and you can't help but coo lightly at her cuteness. You resist the urge to snap another photo and send it to Shoko to which she would always reply with a boring thumbs up emoji, but you know well how she smiles after seeing her god-child.

"Let's see what we have... we got the diapers, baby oil, flour, we got the veggies and other stuff...ah pear, we should get some pears." you say to the baby. It was difficult to think singularly in singular pronouns, it was the two of you-- it was 'us', 'our' through and through.

You walk down to the fruit isle, looking for some pears. Eventually you find the last pack in the thin mesh. Your hands reach forward to grip it and so does another. Your heart ceases. There is no way you wouldn't recognise that hand. The faint tan under which lie a constellation of protruding green veins. Fingers with a naturally large nail bed, the skin around it slightly discoloured. Suguru. There was no doubt it was him, you didn't even need to look up or rather you didn't have the strength to.

You suddenly wanted to laugh. You felt like a tragic greek hero, comung across your beloved, a bit too late. Orpheus and Eurydice, Hyacinthus and Apollo. Achilles and Patroclus. But the real tragedy was, as the poets said, "I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

"Suguru..." You whisper out breathlessly as you finally dare and look him in the eye.

His name leaving your lips like a plea tears straight through his chest, his heart aching at the sound of his beloved's voice again. He can't help but feel his heart racing as he looks at your face, drinking in the sight of your tired but radiant face. "Y/N," he murmurs out.

He feels sick, how instantly his sleep-deprived body finds solitude at the sight of you. Relief flooding into his lungs, spreading throughout his veins like a chasm. Its shattering, he feels like a man who was lost in a desert after having left his paradise for a mirage of an oasis.

His body is on fire, his muscles searing to envelop you, to somehow make you melt into him and never let go. His vision blurs, watery, and then suddenly, his breath stills, when his eyes fall onto the soft bundle safely strapped to you chest. An appearance uncanny similar to his, its alive, living. His ears buzz in trepidation. On one hand you stand in front of him and he wants to fall on his knees and tell you how miserable and lonely he was, how being the villain in everyone's story, including yours doesn't bother him anymore, but that child...

"Is that.." he murmurs, but his voice trembles more that he would have liked it to.

Your eyebrows etch into a small frown, you almost want to scream at him for even asking this question. "Obviously." You reply your eyes darting to the aisles in the mart.

His breath stutters and his palms turn cold. No, no, no, no, no. A soft gasp leaves his mouth. The revelation tumbling down him. he had thought of everything. He was ready to face anything, and every consequence, and yet somehow some way he had forgotten to calculate a variable. A variable that was a variable that you, a variable was his child.

He killed his parents without hesitation, left the walls of the quaint house he grew up in all sullied with but somehow the sight of you with his child brings him to his knees. He wants to sob, rest his head on your knee and shakily kiss you and the baby in forgiveness.

"That's my child..." he says, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. With his silken black hair and nose bridge, the same bright black eyes he had as a kid....that's his

You take in a deep breath and nod, your heart pounds in your chest till it aches. "Tsukiko." You whisper out, your voice hoarse as you look at the little girl

Suguru has to bite his lip just to keep himself sane, memories of that bittersweet night flooding in and he feels he would topple over the pear rack.

"Tsukiko...she's named Tsukiko..." He says out and his hand shakes. That's his blood, his daughter and yet he is the farthest thing from a father. Seeing her so close to you, the way you are fussing over her, it has his throat run dry by the intensity of a ground marred from rain, a rain that fell always but now doesn't fall in the courtyard of his heart, leaving all the plants of humane emotions, wilting and dry.

He can't help but murmur out, "A pretty name. It suits her." He whispers out softly, gently reaching out a hand towards the small child. "May I?"

You look at him as a strange anger wells up within. You want to refuse, yet you want to cry in his sturdy arms, for him to envelope you so hard that you can't breathe. You want to beg him to come back, and yet you want to slap him and tell him to never show his face.

You want him to stay, to apologise for letting some as young as you go through pregnancy alone. You want him to apologise for leaving you in a state where the shadows around you seemed to warp in oddly threatening shapes, where intrusive thoughts had you so scared you had to call Shoko or Satoru just to listen to their voice, so that you feel real and don't end up doing anything stupid.

You want him to go back to your dorm room in jujutsu high, where all of his belongings are untouched like the day he left.

You gently unclasp her from the carrier. “Support her neck, she’s only two months old.”

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently takes the child into his arms, watching as you gently unclasp her from the carrier and gently place her into his arms. His heart hammers in his chest as he carefully and gently supports her small, fragile neck, feeling her small frame in his arms. Tsukiko blinks her wide eyes in confusion, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.

You feel anguished, thinking of what life could have been if Suguru had never left for his goals. What if you hadn’t lost half of your soul that day.

His heart aches as he holds the small baby in his arms, thinking of all the moments he will lose out on seeing now. Never seeing her first steps, her first words, never reading her bedtime stories, never having her call him ‘daddy’. He will never get to see her experience the feeling of pure and unbridled joy for the first time, or seeing her face light up at all the small, everyday things that make children happy. He knows he has missed so much already, and the thought of missing more...

His heart aches and his breath catches in his throat as he feels the small child’s bottom lip tremble slightly, her head turning up to look at you with a conflicted look in her eyes. He can feel her small frame quiver slightly in his arms, probably still confused by the fact that she is in a stranger’s arms, but she isn’t crying to get away from him. The fact that she’s not crying to get back into your arms makes him want to laugh and sob all at the same time.

"Tsuki." You whisper out as you gently brush your fingers on her face. For some odd reason you don't want her to cry in his arms. After all the pain he has inflicted on me, Iyou still don't want him to be hurt by his girl crying to get away from him.

You take a sudden breath as your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, and suddenly you feel so small, so alone. With Tsuki away from your chest, even though she is right in front of you, you feel a strange fear of abandonment.

His heart races as he feels your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, your fingers leaving a scorching heat in their wake even though you’re only brushing against his arm. Your fingers are icy cold, and it’s just then that he realizes that you have tears streaming down your face, the droplets running down your chin and dripping onto the linoleum flooring of the grocery store. Your shoulders are trembling and you’re trying to hold back your sobs, but he can hear your strangled breaths.

"Give her back to me and leave." You whisper out as you bite your lips. Its not fair, It hurts so much. You have been so strong until now, taking care of everything, but now he is here and everything is rushing back like a riptide, knocking you off your feet, making you fall face-first onto the sand

He can feel his eyes widening in shock as your strangled words reach his ears, his heart aching painfully as he holds back the urge to cry out. He watches you struggle to stop tears from streaming down your face, watching the way your shoulders tremble as you try to hold back your sobs, watching as you fight back the urge to just hold the baby and run back to his arms.

"Geto." You murmur. Not Sugu, not Suguru. "Give me my child back," You whisper as you look at him, your hand clutching your chest as it aches so painfully. "Are you having fun seeing me make a spectacle of myself in the middle of a mart?" You croak out, but your voice doesn't waver.

His heart breaks as you call him ‘Geto’ in such a cold, detached voice. He gulps and hand the baby to you, his hands immediately feeling so empty, thats his daughter, his little girl. He wants to hold her, kiss her head, kiss the beautiful woman who brought her to life, but he is going to make a new world, and when all that is done, you would all be a family....

You gently tuck Tsukiko back in the carrier as he hands her to you and walk out of the mart, towards the exit. The groceries forgotten. You will buy them some other day. Each step is so difficult.

You wanna go back to him, cry in his arms, sob and hit his chest. Standing underneath a stop as you dial your phone to Satoru and he answers. "Satoru...can you pick us up?" you murmur tiredly, your voice hoarse

The moment he heard your voice over the phone, Satoru felt his heart dropping to his stomach. He can hear the way your voice is strained and hoarse, and he can sense the way that you are on the verge of tears. Satoru swallows the lump in his throat as he stands up from his desk and grabs the keys off his desk. “I’m on my way.”

You nod and cut the call, staring blankly at the clouds. You hear the automated door of the mart open and look at Suguru exiting the mart, three polybags in his hands as he walks up to you and keeps two of them on the ground. You look at the bag...its all the things in my cart and the pears.

Your lip trembles as I look up at him, eyes bleary. Tsukiko is now peacefully asleep against your chest. Her faint smell, that of baby powder and milk...It lingers from Suguru too, your head pounds.

He faintly smells like her too now and the way he looks at her, like he is aching, his eyes begging--- they are peading in the same way as they were on the night which lead to Tsuki. I wish I can have what I love, but to protect what I love, I must make a society where those I love ⎯ sorcerers: you, Tsuki, Satoru, Shoko ⎯ are safe

"Go, it's about to rain soon. You'll catch a cold if you get wet." You whisper out tiredly.

His heart aches as he watches you whisper out your words, the exhaustion plain on your face. He can’t bear to see you struggling and forcing yourself to be strong when he is the sole reason for your pain. And as he hears your tired voice, he just can’t help the way his hand reaches out to gently brush the tear away from your cheek. “Y/N…don’t cry,” he whispers.

You look at his hand caressing your cheek before a soft sob escapes your mouth. His touch making goosebumps rise all over your body. “Don’t do that, you have no right to when you decided to leave….” You say as you weakly push his hand away, but it’s so feeble and weary that it’s like a gentle nudge.

A fresh wave of tears builds in your eyes, and all he wants to do is draw you into his arms and hold you until your sobs fade away. It kills him how weak you are, how weak his leaving has made you. He wants to hold you and never let you suffer like this ever again. But how could he after he’s the one that caused this pain to begin with?

His phone rings, an unfamiliar contact name flashes on his screen. Mimiko with a little childish flower emoji next to it.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach; to the point that you feel as if you are having morning sickness all over again.

"That's your girlfriend?" you ask with a soft chuckle, as you don't feel this ugly cold wave wash over you, you feel your limbs stiffen, your teeth chattering at how cold I feel.

Its as if your heart has closed off, putting up a barrier around it and locking away all those painful emotion that he has inflicted on you. He looks down at his phone, seeing a picture of Mimiko and Nanako, the little girls he rescued and adopted 11 months ago, smiling in the caller ID. "Y/N..no..."

"You don't have to defend yourself y'know." you say with a fake breathy laugh as your hand supports Tsumiko's sleeping head to your chest. "Not that it matters anymore."

He bites his lip as he stares at your expression, his heart being "I’m not gonna defend myself but...those are my kids, not my girlfriends," he says softly.

Your eyebrows furrow as your grip on Tsukiko tightens instinctively. "...What?" Its too much. Its way too much for you to handle, your ears ring uncomfortably, yet you try to stand firm.

"Mimiko and Nanako..." He swallows nervously, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I-I found them, when I left you. They are sisters. Their parents were murdered, and they were in such horrendous conditions that I just had to rescue them," he stutters, feeling a sudden uncomfortable rush of warmth on his cheeks from his heart racing.

"I see, uhm thats very nice of you." You mutter with a little smile. "Having two daughters, must be nice. something positive amongst all that you are doing..." You say, but your throat runs dry. He has two daughters. That’s basically a family. He is raising them out of goodwill and love, it’s optimistic.

Your heart aches as you think about Tsukiko. Her mother still stuck to her past, clinging to her lover.

Most of the days you can't tell the date from start to finish. You blankly do all the work, function normally but trapped in this surreal dream that you can't snap out from, until your back hits the bed and you stare at a picture of you and Suguru on the bedside. Finally crying, showing some humane emotion after acting like a non-sentient being.

He has two daughters. Who first had happy lives with their parents until they tragically died, and were taken in by an equally loving caretaker.

Your expression turns from shock to something a little more painful, a sad half-smile that looks like it’s masking the emotional turmoil that he can see building up beneath it. He can see the way that your shoulders droop a little, your head bowing just a fraction more towards your chest. He can see your fingers tightening just slightly around Tsukiko, "Yeah..it is...” he murmurs out weakly.

“I am glad…every child deserves a home.” You mutter genuinely, but you feel so so terrible, like the worst person on earth that you am jealous of those little girls. Those little kids who get to live with their adoptive dad, a happy life. Full of joys and laughter. While Tsukiko was born in such despair. So much pain. Her mother, her godparents; everyone suffering in the tumultuous Jujutsu society. But what about Tsukiko, who's only fault was being born, why does she have to experience this tragedy?

Suguru's heart shatters as he watches you silently struggle and hold back your tears. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He did this to you. He did this to you, and now his two adopted children are getting the life that he ripped from you. That he denied you. There’s so much you already hear from people, about your character. When your only crime was being in love

“I won’t tell her that you have kids when she grows up.” You say with smile. “Wouldn’t want her to think she’s not a good kid and that’s why her dad left her for other children who are better than her. She’ll think her daddy didn’t like her.” You mumur. “Kids can be particularly fragile…who would know better than a mother who’s a kid herself?”

His heart drops at your cold, quiet words, his breath catching in his throat, tears building in his eyes at the pure agony that he can feel in your words. The way you’re already resigning yourself to being a single parent all alone. The way you can only do this because you’re still a damn kid yourself. Suguru heaves breathlessly as he gulps, his bottom lip trembling. The words don't leave his mouth. He should just ask you to come with him, to live with him, to be together as a family, a big family.

“At least raise them well Suguru…the two of them should get a safe environment. You look down at Tsukiko, your fingers gently brushing the little hair on her hair. She’s so tiny, hasn’t even gotten hair on her head fully.

Suguru's hands shakes as he takes a step closer, just basking in the sight of his beloved and his daughter. "Yeah," he mutters. "They are good kids, my girls..." he says in a faint whisper as a soft smile graces his face at the sight of Tsukiko's pudgy cheeks.

What a mighty child, she can stop world wars, she has him stopped and he is the closest thing to be a cause of a war in near future.

My girls? Your knees buckle at the words. “Ah I see… they are your girls.” You can't help but be bitter at his phrasing as you look at our little Tsukiko. She looks so much like her daddy. From her eyes, nose, hair, skin…she is a replica of him and yet he’s never had the chance to call her his child. It’s so cruel.

He feels a sharp spike of pain shoot through his heart at your words. His girls…not our girls. His girls. He doesn’t have the right to have you call them our girls. They’re just his. All because of him.

“Will she ever be your daughter Suguru…?” You can’t help but mutter so shakily, your voice quivering like a child’s as tears roll down your eyes…you feel so small it’s embarrassing.

A soft breathy sob leaves Suguru, he can't do this, he is goddamn monster. The sound almost makes you flinch as you look up at him. He sucks in a deep breath and holds it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “How could I...she’s…” he struggles to get the words out. “She’s ours. She’s ours and she’ll always be ours.”

Suguru sakes his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, he so goddamn dizzy. "She is my daughter, Nanako and Mimiko are my kids." he says, the change of a synonym making such a huge difference in the meaning.

"And you- you are mine, you have no- no idea who difficult it has been, I can't even try to compare, but I've missed you so goddamn much." his voice cracks. "And its so lonely, the girls they see me staring at your picture everyday and I tell them that's their mother. When they ask where you are, I tell them how I messed up- left to protect you, because you do not agree with my ideas, I thought you would be better off without me, that you'd move on slowly. But there's my daughter and I feel so guilty. You cannot move on, not when she is a reminder of me, of us. Of our youth."

The tears don't drop, but they pain is etched on his face, deep frown and upturned brows. You breathe out and shake your head. "I can't-" you murmur and he bites his lip, his index finger lightly running on Tsukiko's palm.

"I know." he says, "I just wish- I just wish I had more time, with you and Tsukiko." he whispers in the same soft tone as he conflicted eyes look into yours as if to say. Come with me, leave the jujutsu society, just us, our family.

But leaving with Suguru meant betraying everyone. Satoru, Shoko, Yaga sensei and the entirety of the sorcerers who work day and night for the future. A safe future from people like Suguru. Who heedlessly killed thousands of innocents.

"Go," you whisper out. "the girls must be waiting." You pause, your fingers shakily finding his and his eyes widen. He firmly squeezes your hand, the warmth of his hand against yours rouses and inexplicable pain and fondness in you.

"Satoru must be arriving." you mutter.

He nods his head slowly as he steps away, his voice thick. “I love you." he whispers out. The same words he had denied you the privilege of last time as he leaves...

Moments later a panicked Gojo pulls over, alarmed by your call before his eyes widen as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy. His best friend, the strongest along him. Gojo can feel a cold shudder wash down his spine as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy in the air, his breath catching in his throat as recognition hits him instantly, realising what may have happened.

You are sitting on the seats on the bus-stand as he comes close.He steps closer to you, his heart breaking upon seeing the dried tear tracks that are on your cheeks and the look of brokenness and despair in your eyes. He kneels down in front of you and gently rests his hand on your knee, his eyes gentle as he looks at you. “Y/N....” he whispers.

“Satoru…” You whimper softly, your voice cracking out of desperation and relief.

He quickly reaches up to pull you into a tight hug, his heart aching at the small, whimpering whisper of his name from your lips and the way your breathing hitches and a choked sob escapes your lips, the rest of your body quivering in his arms from the force of your tears. His arms are locked tightly against your body, keeping you pulled firm against his chest as you cry into your hands and he gently strokes a hand up and down your back. “Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.”

He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remains...

A/N: I sincerely apologise for the pain, but I don't have enough money for everyone's therapy.

EXP: Pear symbolism: In Chinese, the word li means both pear and separation, so it's said that to avoid a separation, friends and lovers should not divide pears between themselves.

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huellitaa · 9 months ago

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hello hello huelittaa 👋✨ do u have any tips for someone struggling with motivation to workout? or even to take a simple walk? thank uu 🤍

bee's physical activity handbook: motive 🎀 . ݁₊ ⊹

hiiii ml!!!!!!!! 🫶🏻🩷💗 sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a few days BUT IM HERE NOW !!!!! honestly this is something i also struggle with myself ,, i am still recovering from depression personally so this is still difficult for me sometimes too but these are some things i do !!!! ♡

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. prepare urself for the possibility

so since i know i have this problem a lot, it helps me to be prepared for this in advance. i actually have a whole notion page filled with a table of letters to myself in specific situations i find myself in a lot, this included, and have a whole archived stored of cute photos and motivation and things like articles and videos and tumblr posts on the main page and in the letters that make me wanna get up and do shit and its my LIFESAVER. (should i make a post on this?)

but i'd suggest to keep a note or page or document , physical or digital, filled with just motivation for this specific thing, like things you like about it, photos romanticising working out or going outside, songs that motivate you, etc etc etc. the list goes on but you get the point ♡

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. detective chapter: analysis! ♡

figure out why you dont want to. this is the main thing that helps me and its so simple but once u figure out the root u figure out the rest and this applies just the same here too. is it laziness? mental health? exhaustion? overworking? burnout? you won't be able to continue until you haven't found the actual problem. it's like trying to travel with no path to travel on.

💭𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. pep talk!

one thing i do that helps me the most is literally just lay in bed or wherever you are where ur procrastinating and thinking about this over and over and going back and forth whether to do it or not is to force the thoughts out (literally. u can envision it if it helps!) and deadass bully myself into doing it 😭😭

(🗒🎀 note: i've also found it helps for some people to do this in the mirror, just so ur face to face w urself as it were. plus u get to admire urself at the same time so its a win all around)

if ur not into harsh motivation, another thing i love, esp when im not feeling great enough to deal w harsh motivation is pretend ur giving advice to a friend or ur child in this position. this is one of the greatest pieces of advice ive ever gotten i literally cannot stress this enough. do this‼️ p.s. you can do this in ur head or out loud. i usually do some mix of both because i am a professional at talking to myself constantly literally all the time

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. use gratitude in ur favour!

one thing i like to do is essentially guilt trip myself into doing it. erm. you can also call this gratitude it sounds a lot better. think of how grateful you are to even have the opportunity to go outside safely to go for a walk, to be able to work out and keep urself healthy, because there's always someone who's not going to be able to do those things. it is a privilege to live your life and this should be classed as one too.

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. all about the outlook

another thing i love that falls into the category of motivation is treating it as an act of love and luxury rather than a chore and changing ur outlook on it. for example,

"oh, i have to do this or i'm a failure" or "i really don't want to do it today"

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ into...

"i deserve to do this for myself because i deserve to be taken care of and kept in good health."

and i find this makes me so much more open to it because you do deserve it.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. romanticism; obviously!

okayyyy i know you hear this EVERYWHERE but ‼️its‼️because‼️its true‼️ romanticism is my LIFE not a day goes by where i dont act like im a silly girl in a pink girly shoujo world, and i do this even more so when i dont wanna get up and do simple tasks like this.

some things that give me motivation via romanticism is getting dressed up and cute even if i'm just going for a walk and listening to music and appreciating the world (🗒🎀 note: i love taking pictures or going on different routes whenever i go for walks! it makes the experience so much sweeter and more enjoyable ♡), or putting on cute clothes, loud music and grabbing a pretty waterbottle and hyping myself up to do even just 10 mins of pilates because something is always better than nothing!!!!!!!!!!!

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. something is better than nothing

with the last note from my previous point in mind, try and always do just a little bit, even if it's not the amount you intended. say you wanted to workout for 20 minutes every day, but you really weren't feeling it today? do 10 instead. this way ur still doing something. we always have tomorrow. take it at ur own pace. you wanted to go running every day? just go for a walk. you can always try again. there is no limit on how many attempts you have with these things. this is always better than just doing nothing at all. this is basically finding the middle ground when you do these things. which leads me onto my final point ,,♡

✨️𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. finding the middle ground

the no.1 thing in all of this is please don't beat urself up for it if you don't feel like it sometimes, but still keep to it as best as possible. say for example you really didn't want to one day but you had no real reason not to, you should still do it. but if your emotional or physical health or anything like that is in a bad place right now, then allow urself to skip for a day or two. dont beat urself up over it, but keep to it when and where you can because i know its difficult sometimes ♡

all my love, and u got this!!!!!!!!!! 🩷🫶🏻💬💗🎀

#IMSO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET BACK TO YOU AJDJFKSJFS #anyway. im here now. i hope this helps you i love u #asks ୨𖹭୧ #it girlism ୨𖹭୧

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captaingondolin · 11 months ago

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Get to know me tag game!

tagged by @corelliaxdreaming

I am constitutionally incapable of being brief ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

1. Do you make your bed?

Usually not. Sometimes I think it will magically make me feel better about life. Or help me not fall back into it (spoiler: it doesn't work)

2. Favorite number?

Even numbers. 5 and its multiples are on thin ice.

3. What’s your job?

Used to be librarian, currently an archeology student (shout out to my mother for the help, to my depression funk that meant I spent next to nothing during my last two years at work, and to the fact that I moved to a place where normal humans don't need faustian deals to afford higher education)

4. If you could go back to school would you?

See above. I am also an anxious mess who cannot do deadlines, so the dream would be just attending lectures forever without doing exams/essays (which I think in my home country you could technically legally do, since unis are public, you only pay if you enroll. but it might be outdated info)

5. Can you parallel park?

No license yet (and I'm An Old). Don't judge, I used to live in London, and currently I'm in a weird spot with figuring out where I'm living long term.

6. Do you think aliens are real?

Same as what Katie said, not sure about humanoid aliens, but the universe is vast and there must be life somewhere else.

7. Can you drive a manual car?

See above. But I live in Europe, most people use manual, so that's what I'll learn.

8. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Guilt was invented by the catholic church to sell more confessions.

9. Tattoos?

I have a whole list. I promised the very first to my child self (it will be Alexander the Great themed). But.

There's an ongoing thing with my mother - I know she has no say over my body and it's not my responsibility if she chooses to take my decisions as a personal attack. However, she's one of the best people I know about literally everything else (not just because we are related, mind you, I can and have told family to fuck right out of my life), so for a long time I hemmed and hawed about it, because I wasn't sure it was worth risking a fight. Recently I got a nose ring and she has kept her mouth blessedly shut about it, so yay for progress (again, I am An Old, but mediterranean mothers are just Like That. In her defence, she outright told me she is making an effort to treat me as an adult and a peer and I can see her really working on it).

10. Favorite color?

the colour of the sky

Orange. I'd pull off the pilot flightsuit. And pink, I adore all shades of pink!

11. Favorite type of music?

Currently in a months long standoff with my brain, who thinks music is evil and out to get him (because we're not having feelings right now) but I can occasionally spoon feed him Hazbin Hotel. ♫⋆ CAUSE I KNOW YOU'RE POISON, YOU'RE FEEDING ME POOOISOOOON, ADDICTED TO THIS FEEEEELIIIIIN' ♪ ₊˚♬

...sorry.

If things are good, literally everything, but I love musicals (Legally Blonde got me through uni last time), metal (D'Artagnan is the latest band I discovered) and everything in the folk, folk metal, country, sea shanties, pirate metal kind of rhythm, and classical music (Verdi can so get it. and Mozart, baby Gondolin's first crush). Oh, and tango and early 2000 pop. Hardstyle if I'm in a writing fugue. I used to only dislike slow ballads and acoustic remakes, but I was recently personally attacked by Avril Lavigne with the Bite Me acoustic. And tbh I listen to Hozier, I should have known.

Shoutout to Inti-Illimani, I am contractually obligated to tell people about chilean protest songs-andean folk legends, listen to them.

12. Do you like puzzles?

Nope.

13. Any phobia?

Mice. Most houses I lived in while in London had mice, and seeing glimpses of tail and little feet scuttling about in places like the fucking kitchen counter really did me in. I recently saw the tiniest, objectively cute, mouse outside (at an archaeological dig, we'd disturbed him and not the other way around) and my heartbeat still got fucked. Meanwhile, I was chill with the HUGE centipede, the snake that slithered right past me, the geko, the turtles, spiders and all other wildlife, or even huge city cockroaches.

Maybe my phobia is shitty British houses, actually. Your walls and celings are not supposed to have holes, you know?

14. Favorite childhood sport?

Quitting. I wasn't into sports enough for me to want to go on and I couldn't give a rat's ass about competing. But I loved ice skating and judo. Skiing too (I grew up in the mountains, I know for a lot of people skiing is the epitome of luxury xD but I could have probably walked to a slope. Okay, maybe not walked, but.)

15. Do you talk to your self?

All the time, and my grandma used to be the same.

I used to give myself interviews when I was a kid, imagining myself as a famous author or filmmaker. Now sometimes I pretend I'm talking to my therapist. Or just straight up talk through things out loud, so it's easier to follow a single train of thought without thinking a billion things at once. Or I give myself little pep talks or go "godddamit, self" and I talk to objects a lot.

16. What movies do you adore?

The Lord of the Rings. All the Star Warses. Even the ones I don't love are fun. Rogue One is top tier but I need to be hydrated for how much I'll cry.

More recently the duology Les Trois Mousquetaires : D'Artagnan part I and II. I can't quite figure out if it's for the movies themselves (and the soundtrack, the soundtrack absolutely slaps), because I'm horrendously thirsty for the cast (I would let trauma-ridden, unwashed, long-haired Vincent Cassel straight up give me syphilis. He's so fucking good as the alcoholic trashfire that is Athos) or if it's because I adore the book and Dumas is part of my genetic makeup at this point.

17. Coffee or tea?

Coffee (currently drinking the cold brew of dreams). I don't like black tea, but herbal teas/infusions are fantastic. I have a hibiscus, apple, mint and berries one from Lidl that is the stuff of dreams (excellent cold too, I brew it for longer with a pinch of green tea and honey, then add some lemon and it's the shit). On the more bougie side, I have the biggest hard on for jasmine tea. Most places sell you green tea with a vague hint of jasmine, but the good stuff that comes in little balls is unparalleled, it smells like the flowers. Also good both hot or cold (again, brewed for longer with some honey or sugar and then I love it with milk or milk substitutes).

18. First thing you wanted to be growing up

Archaeologist 💖 librarian, writer, film director, and briefly F1 pilot.

Since I never know who to tag, I'm doing the last 5 mutuals who liked/reblogged something, because why not. Feel free to ignore this! @obiwong @reena-jenkins @silvergryphon @tothestarwarsandback @themonopolyhat

#ask #ask game #gondolin talks #my tag #corelliaxdreaming

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the1975attheirverybest · 2 years ago

Note

Hey!

I really want to get a puppy because i love dogs and always wanted one.But i have depression too and some days, i dont want to get out of bed. As someone who has mental health struggles and a pet, how do you manage to take care of both?

Any advice would be appreciated

Hey, friend 🥰

THAT IS SO EXCITING OMG!!!

okay, I have a lot to say about this, so sorry in advance about the length of this response. putting in a "read more" so it doesn't annoy people.

Firstly, would this be your first dog or do you have experience with dogs and dog training? if this is your first dog, I strongly recommend that you not get a puppy. Instead, look into dogs that are a year old or older.

puppies are A LOTTTT more work than adult dogs because they have a lot of growing, puppy energy which means that they require a lot of exercise, feeding a lot more frequently, are completely new to the world and will depend on you to "socialize" them. Socialization won't just be about teaching them to interact with other people or other dogs, but with literally the entire world. Like, puppies dog know how to climb stairs, they don't understand that cars could run them over, they don't know that some things are edible and some things aren't. They're also still teething, and will lose their baby teeth to get their big doggy teeth, they're not potty trained, etc. That's SO SO MUCH WORK and needs a pretty structured and rigid schedule.

They also cost a fair bit cuz you'll have to change their diet, get their vaccines, buy different toys, etc as they go through developmental stages.

improper socialization can lead to behavioral issues, aggression, anxiety, etc as the dog grows up. So, if you don't think you have the experience to handle all that, I strongly encourage you together a dog who is at least a year old.

Idk about you, but as a severely depressed person who also had ADHD and a lot of other shit, that is just not possible for me to pull off.

Now, lets say you decide to get a dog who is a year old, or more.

The good news is, the amount of work that you have to put in decreases over time! overall, the nonnegotiables are 3: potty schedule, food, exercise.

So, depending on where you get the dog from, most dogs of 1 year old are leash trained or at least have good leash manners and know how to walk while on one. Most adult dogs (if cared for properly) are potty trained, so you don't have to worry about that either.

potty accidents happen, of course, and some dogs get confused when they're moved into a new home. cuz at the shelter/ rescue/foster home, they have a specific area to go potty in, they know the specific people and time (dogs can tell the time of day based on their sense of smell), etc. when they're in an entirely new space, they don't know when they're gonna be taken out or if their new person is going to take them out at all, so you may have to reinforce training a bit for the first few days.

For the depressed pet owners, or if you live in a part of the world where it snows heavily, strongly recommend this thing if you have a place to put it. Mine's on the balcony.

I would say you should expect to feed your pup at the same times every day, but ngl, as a mentally ill person, I'm not always consistent with it. For me, it's more like within the same time frame. so I feed him between 8:30-9 am, he has a snack around midday, and then dinner between 4 pm and 5 pm. I wish I could say it's like 8:30 am on the dot every single day or whatever, but some days i just literally can't get out of bed, so it is what it is.

obviously, a dog isn't going to die if you're late on meal time every once in a while. but don't skip meals, or they'll start to think "oh i dont know when ill eat again" and develop issues around food.

what's made it easier for me is I feed him and myself at the same time. this has the added benefit of forcing me to find something to eat, even if its just one bite, on bad depression days. also minimizes the amount of work i have to do cuz ill get his bowl and fill it while in the kitchen.

Exercise will depend on your individual dog, his health, age, breed, etc. but most dogs thrive on daily walks, and AT MINIMUM need to walk 3 times a week.

there are breeds that require less exercise cuz they're bred to be lap dogs or whatever. Great Danes are lazy despite their giant ass size. they're total couch potatoes. Greyhounds too. some breeds will straight up become destructive if you don't exercise them regularly. Especially working breeds. You know, dogs that were meant to herd sheep, or hunt, or dig. They're genetically wired to WANT and thrive on activity. If they don't get that out healthily, they'll do it in unhealthy ways that cost you money.

My baby has destroyed hundreds of dollars worth of textbooks in his day. Back when we were on zoom and people would schedule one meeting after the other? if he we went too long without stimulation, forget about it. say bye to all those expensive school books.So, look into the breed that you want before getting it.

are we going on long walks every damn day? honestly, no. Sometimes, all I have the energy for is a few laps around the building after he pees. thats okay. but i do make up for it on days when i am able to do stuff.

also enrichment toys are your best friends on bad days. For most dogs, it keeps them busy and offsets the need for vigorous exercise on rainy days, days when you're just not getting out of bed, etc.

Now for the most important stuff:

IT WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE SOOOO MUCH BETTERRRR.

I promise. all the cliches you've heard about dog ownership are VERY TRUE. YOU'LL NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN.

My dog loves me more than any human being, including my parents, has ever loved me. I went through some reallllyy dark shit this past year. This good boy was NOT LEAVING MY SIDE AT ALL. he would somewhat disgustingly lick my tears with all his might whenever he'd see me crying, he'd bring me his toys and start doing a "play bow" its that silly little butt wiggle dogs do when they're inviting you to play with them, and roll on his back because he knows that shit cracks me up.

On days when I'm having a hard time getting off the couch or out of bed, he climbs up and hangs out next to me. he doesn't care that he's not out there living the big life, he just cares that he's with me.

on days when I'm struggling, sometimes knowing that I need to go let him out to potty, or to take him for a walk or something is the literal only reason i get up.

when I was suicidal, he kept me around cuz the thought of him having to be taken to the shelter after someone finds my body killed me.

I cry whenever i have to be away from him. like if im going out of town and need to leave him somewhere. or if I drop him off at daycare and know I won't see him until 7 pm that night? I AM MISERABLEEE i need him just as much as he needs me.

with depression, im sure you know that your brin has a tendency to hate you and berate you and make you feel worthless and like nothing matters anymore. well, if my only point in life is to exist as his feeder and caretaker, thats enough sometimes. even if my life as a human ends up amounting to NOTHING AT ALL, at least I'm his personal assistant.

Do I feel guilty sometimes? yes, ngl. I wish I were the type to take him on long car rides or to those bars and restaurants that allow dogs, or set up playdates with different doggy friends every day....i just cannot. thats not possible for me because sometimes leaving the house at all is impossible. and sometimes i think maybe his life would be better if he had a stable, extroverted, normal ass mom who takes care of him better than I do. but then I look at him and think about how I WOULD LITERALLY KILLLLLLL for this baby. with my bare fuckin hands, i would snatch someone's heart right out of their fuckin chest. and nothing else matters.

the bond that a mentally ill girlie has with her fur baby is the most powerful shit in the world. just watching him eat and make cute cronch, cronch, cronch sounds with his lil dog teefers, or squeeze his squeaky toys or run around in circles when he gets the zoomies is sometimes the highlight of my very very shitty days. 10000000/10. would recommend.

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b0mblover · 1 year ago

Text

It’ll be Okay in the End

By: J

cw; selfharm, generally negative thoughts, blood (etc everything that comes with sh)

lopt essentially has a silent breakdown and mason comforts him or smth idk im not good at summeries,

[Note; this was wrote out of my own desperation for comfort, not romanizing sh, i do not encourage or believe anyone should do this to themselves, seek help.]

i uh, actually had a easier time writing this than most things, probably because ive been essentially replaying this whole scene in my head for literal years! i for once wasnt upset when i wrote this, i was very tired tho! uh i have alot more to say but hawaii part ii lopt is taking over my brain again, so im gonna go do that! have fun with my depressed 100% projected loptson ig!

•

lopt was in ‘his’ so called room, scribbling away at some paper,

mason was rather concerned, hearing frustrated noises constantly, what sounded like pencils breaking,

they had been “partners” officially for 3 months now, mason had always cared about lopt to an extent, partner or not, but this was… odd.

sure lopt had his own life, hobbies, but he didnt care to keep /that/ much from mason, especially whenever he asked,

but, this was different.

lopt had came home from wherever the fuck he was- hell if mason knew details- annoyed, he stormed off to some room, when mason tried to ask what was wrong he only blew him off saying that “its none of your fucking business, you wouldnt get it anyways”

•

lopt was scribbling away in his notepad, despite being a god and literally being immortal, he still couldnt force creativity to come to him,

it was his fifth time trying,

most drawings resulted in poorly scribbled out lines,

he had went out to try and get inspiration for “some project” though he didnt really /have/ anything to work on, starting a new drawing always seemed to be a block for him,

he sat down his broken (6b) pencil, (rather violently but he didnt want to acknowledge that) and got up, he knew somewhere in him, that he needed a break, he walked out of his room to get water, but his mind wouldnt leave him alone,

constant thoughts about how awful his art was spewed around

“youre not “talented”, youre worthless”

“itd be better to quit now”

“just rip up the damn papers, theyre ugly anyways”

“imagine- you could just go and alleviate all this pain, just with that knife-“

he tried to push down his thoughts,

grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with water,

the knives in the butcher block seemed so… tempting,

most of him /knew/ that he shouldnt- that it was wrong, that mason would be disappointed- disgusted, if he found out about his thoughts,

but, he couldnt help it,

all memories of the nights he got up from their bed to take part in something that would disgust his partner made him sick.

questions runned through his head as he sipped on his water, leaning onto the counter

“would he be sad?”

“would he care?”

“would he call me names?”

“tell me how pathetic i am?”

“leave me?”

“would he hate me?”

“tell me how ugly my body is”

“tell me how he hates the scars”

“tell me just how much he despises me”

the voices grew louder wither every question,

saying that he wanted mason to hate him,

that he did hate him,

in the very back of lopts mind, in the tiniest corner, he knew it all wasnt true, that he was being dramatic over nothing,

but even then, the memories of all the times he loved someone- all the times he didnt question if they hated him, what they all said to him,

he felt like doubting himself was the only way to have them not leave,

to not abandon him,

he took a deep breath before sighing, realizing his cup was empty, he decided that he had enough of a “break” and that he needed to start “working” again,

•

mason was sitting on the couch, some random tv show playing for background noise, when lopt wasnt “there” it was almost too quiet, in a way, mason had grown to love how loud and chaotic the house was with lopt- even if thery were the only two people in it.

he seen lopt walk into the kitchen for around 8~ minutes before he trudged his way into his room once more,

he didnt know excatly as to what lopt was doing,

granted whatever it was had to have been important, he didnt usually spend 3+ hours in a room alone silently, it started to make him worry, was lopt sick? just why did he seem so upset when he came home? is he okay? did he hurt himself?

•

lopt sat down at his desk once more, staring at the scribbled page, a sphere, he couldnt figure out how to shade it properly on the background,

he sighed turning his attention to the top left drawer,

he stood up walking over to his dresser, pulling out another drawer, he took out a roll of bandages, and some tissues,

he knew that he shouldnt, that it was essentially pointless, that hed feel better soon enough,

but that fear crept back up,

“what about last time you didnt? remember? it got only worse because you didnt”

he rubbed the sides of his nose bridge, the voices were annoying, they knew that he was gonna, even without the encouragement.

he sat back down at his desk, sitting the tissues to his right and the badages to his left before pulling out the left hand drawer,

he rummaged through it, various miscellaneous items, before coming across a box,

a red box, seemingly quiet old, with yellow letters reading “do it” on the front,

he took one out, ‘unwrapping’ the razor blade,

straight edge,

he stared at it, contemplating just what hes doing with his life,

“i cant draw, i cant write, i cant make people happy, i cant make music, i can only recite the tales others have told, im worthless, im doless, i will never amount to anything or anyone in my life, god or not, human or not, this is deserved, if i cannot create, then i at lease deserve to bleed”

a mantra he told himself, attempting to poorly justify his actions,

•

mason listened at the door, hearing nothing, no pencil, no walking, almost no breathing, he didnt know everything about lopt, sure, but he knew that he didnt look well off, and what boyfriend would he be to his partner if he wasnt concerned?

they had an unspoken rule to always at least knock before walking into the others space, granted they had seen every part of each other, it was just a courtesy they had,

though, something felt off,

mason felt as if he shouldnt knock, that lopt was hiding something,

all those sleepless nights where lopt comforted him abundantly, he had felt him get up, a few times he had caught lopt in the basement, he didnt know just what he was doing, he always hid something,

he didnt want to break any boundaries sure, thatd be rude and disrespectful, but, he had a weird feeling in his gut that it was for lopts own saftey,

“please forgive me for this” he muttered to himself,

sharply inhaling before opening the door,

simply greeted by lopts back.

•

lopt heard the door open, he had three lines going diagonally down his right arm, bleeding, he fumbled the razor, dropping it onto the floor, it had gotten rather dark by now, so it probably wouldnt be seen, he attempted to get the tissues, he had always been a great liar,

“ill just say i accidentally cut myself, if he asks what i was doing with a weapon, ill deflect and say i was being stupid”

it seems like he fumbled the tissues for a bit too long.

“hey”

mason said over his shoulder,

he moved his left hand to cover the cuts,

“o-oh, hey, whats wrong?”

“hm, well, i mean nothing? i guess, what are you doing?”

“i- you guess? is something the matter?”

mason had noticed he was oddly covering his forearm,

“you ignored my question.”

“huh?”

“i asked what youre doing.”

masons tone sounded alot more pissed off, granted he wasnt, just concered more than anything,

“o-oh i um, ok dont laugh but uh- i was trying to draw”

“and why are you covering your arm? are you hurt?”

“i- huh? wh- no, no! i uh, may have also been playing with a blade and accidentally scraped myself, nothing much”

“let me see”

“what?”

“let me see your injury”

lopt was taken aback, all of his previous partners never asked to see his wounds, scars sure but never his wounds, even if they werent self inflicted, he was shocked, he hadnt planned for this.

“i- i assure you dear, it isnt anything to worry about-“

“let me see it. are you hiding something?”

in that moment lopt felt small, like a child almost, weak, helpless, he didnt know how he could get out of this without mason either finding out or being suspicious of him.

“i- here”

lopt moved his left arm to mason, there were a few small cuts on it, though rather old looking,

lopt moved his right arm off the table, into the shadows to not call attention to it.

“uh huh, now the other?”

lopt seen his eternal life flash before his very eyes.

his mind went on autopilot and raised his right arm, he usually would fight but, he knew itd be pointless, mason would just worry more, thus making him keep a closer eye on lopt, he didnt want to feel selfish, not like that,

“oh my, i- oh my god,”

mason was shocked, he had suspected that lopt had hurt himself in the past, granted the scars,

but, he didnt think he still did it, sure the weird behavior, but it never really dawned on him until that moment.

mason had brought (more like dragged) lopt to the bathroom, running the slits under cool water, putting pressure to hopefully get the bleeding under control, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out another roll of bandages,

he stood behind lopt washing the blood off, still slightly in shock,

“why?”

“huh?”

“why do you do this?”

masom questioned, fully aware of the long list lopt was about to give out,

“i- well, i dunno..”

lopts voice trailed off before starting again,

“i mean, i dont even know why i do this, it just feels good? like i can do something right? it makes me feel like im not worthless”

mason hummed for a second before choosing his words

“do you feel normally that youre worthless?”

“i guess so, i dont know why, i have the best boyfriend, my life is great, i just dont know..”

“mmhm, what were you trying to draw?”

“i dont know. does it matter?”

lopt shot back

“well, you seemed frustrated at it, so im sure it’s important to you yeah? so then it’s important to me”

mason brought his hands around lopts wrist, rubbing it slightly attempting to calm him down

“i- i dont know, i just, i feel frustrated, so i tried to draw, but drawing makes me feel more frustrated, so i did this- an- and n-now-“

lopt began to stutter, tears swelling up in his eyes, mason had only seen him cry on a few occasions,

“shh- shh its okay, i know what youre saying, breath, okay?”

lopt inhaled deeply, feeling masons left hand move to wipe the tears away,

he didnt even know why he was crying,

mason bandaged lopts arm slightly tight,

“shh, now, you wanna talk about this? or wait a little bit longer to calm down?”

“c-calm down”

“alright alright, shh youre okay, see?”

mason lead lopt into his bedroom, taking lopts hand under the covers as he had done for him every sleepless night,

lopt could feel his eyelids starting to droop, the warmth of his boyfriend comforting him, the love of his boyfriend comforting him,

he shoved his head into masons chest, finding it to be the most comfortable spot out of the entire bed,

mason ruffled his hair, slowly stroking his hand on his neck,

“y’know, you may be a god,

and you may be immortal, but,

ill be with you for as long as you need, in this life and after”

lopt didnt respond, just slightly nodded his head before burrying it deeper into masons chest,

maybe tonight wasnt so bad after all,

spending time with mason- no, his boyfriend, was never bad.

lopt faded in and out of sleep, trying to fight the melatonin being produced, just to feel the sweet touch of his boyfriends skin, before he completely felt himself drift away, he heard him speak,

“I love you, i love you so much, never forget that, in this life and the next, ill always love you, lopt.”

#j writes badly #no beta we die like jirou #WOOHOO 2.056 WORDS WORTH OF DEPRESSION YIPPE!#im pretty sure this is the longest ive wrote tbh #ironic bc a 300 word ‘essay’ is still so hard for me to do 💀#actually kinda proud of this. i might make a follow up. prob not tho #im not the best a writing comfort.#j funfact; i was originally gonna write mason talking to lopt and comforting him a whole lot more but i got really tired while doing so and #fell asleep #YES THE RAZOR BLADE BOX IS A REFRENCE TO MY OWN. I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANOTHER RAZOR BLADE BOX IN MY LIFE OKAY??#im realising how my irl weapons seep into mt writing more rhan it should #unironically i barely had to correct my own spelling which js werd bc like.#i was tired?? and i generally dont type well??#ahh whatever tho i wont complain #another j funfact; i made the excat drawinf i described lopt making when i was thinking of how to make this all work!#this is also originally titled ‘harsh reality’#but i think im gonna save that for another time #OKOK ILL HUSH NOW HAVE FUN IG??#(the url/link for this one is funny i swear)#HI EDITING 13:48 J HERE.#THR WHOLE THINT ABT “i didnt have to correct much” WAS A FUCKING LIE DEAR LOPT #THERE IS SO MANY MISTAKES #THIS IS ACTUALLY REALLY FUCKING EMBARRASSING OH YM GOD #I FIXED MOST OF THEM I THINK 😭😭 OH YM GOD NEVER LET ME BE CONFIDENT ABT NOT FUCKING UP AGAIN THIS NEVER WORKS OUT #HHHHHG THERE WAS SO MANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS IM ACTUALLY IRL EMBARRASSED 😭

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namjooningelsewhere · 3 years ago

Text

In You, I Found Myself: Part1

✿Pairing- Kim Namjoon X Reader

✿Genre- e2l, angst, fluff, smut

✿Au- arranged marriage, CEO , e2l , bed sharing

✿Rating- 18 +

✿Word Count- 17.4k

✿Warning- Low Self Esteem, Depressive Thoughts, Suicide Attempt (please read at your own risk, Do not read if this triggers you in any way), Familial Conflict, cursing, manipulation.

✿Summary- Being a pushover was hard, and as much as you despised being it, Life never seemed to favor you. From deceased parents to relatives who put you on the line for their own benefit, Going as far as arranging your marriage with the hotshot Kim Namjoon, Who abhors your presence and the knot that binds you to him.

But everything changes when the man that hates you, Becomes your biggest supporter And brings in with him a family that you always longed for. Maybe it's right to believe that with him, You've finally found yourself.

A/N - Jay @jayhopely My bestie thank you for helping me with the banner and also for beta-ing this huge fic for me, I am amazed by your capabilities to finish it in just two days. But again ive known youre super talented:) You've been teaching me so many new things. Thank you for being a solid rock then and now not only for my fics but for me as well, I LEGIT DONT KNOW WHAT IM GOING TO DO WITHOUT YOU:(

Thank you and ily<3

✿Taglist - @akacamiworld @vanilla-sky01 @301295rkive @borahae-reads @namsona17 @little-dark-empress @daphnxy @shatzkrinslinzki @afangirllikeme-blog

There are two types of people in the world: Those who do what they're supposed to do, living their lives under the control of others, following a monochrome routine until death parts them from their misery; and the other type who do everything in just one lifetime, the thrill of life being their very elixir.

You belonged to the first category. You lost your parents at the age of five, and from then on, you grew up with your aunt and uncle and their two kids. Min Hyun Woo and Min Su-Bin made sure you were always reminded of the fact that you weren't their kid. It wasn't as if they treated you badly, or deprived you of your childhood, but it was five notches down compared to how their children Joo-Won and Seo-Yeon were treated.

They say that children learn from their parents. You weren't sure what else they picked up from their parents but they definitely did pick up the habit of treating you lesser than them. Say you broke a vase, you would find your aunt screaming her lungs out, reminding and ingraining it clear in your brain from where it was imported, how expensive it was and how irresponsible you were to break it and how you definitely did not value money. But if the situation was to be reversed, Su-Bin would make sure her child was okay. If he/she didn't get hurt by the glass or crockery, she went as far as pacifying them with a, “It was just a vase, we will get a new one.” Such was the difference.

Honestly, you never minded these things. There was one thing that your Aunt and Uncle often forgot: the fact that the very mansion they lived in was yours. They moved in immediately after your parent's death and the mansion that was your home, built with the love and care of your parents, was soon replaced with their greed and indifference.

Coming to your parents, they were literal geniuses. Min Ye-Jun and Min Yun-Seo were examples of how a couple should be. They met in college, fell in love, and by the time they passed, they already had the foolproof plan of their company with them. Since both of them were acknowledged scholars, their grants combined brought their brainchild ‘Digitron Systems' to life. And just within a tenure of five years, Digitron Systems became the biggest company in its field and your parents royally entered the billionaires league with new ideas in their mind, and you in your mother's tummy.

But all good things come to an end, and so did the story of Min Ye-Jun and Min Yun-Seo in a car accident. You were left in the care of your father's younger brother and wife and as for Digitron Systems, Min Hyun Woo became the interim CEO. It wasn't that they didn't work hard, they did. But compared to the heights that the company had been scaling when your parents were the CEOs, these were baby steps. Fortunately, Digitron Systems was a major brand by then, so the name was enough to keep the company running fully functional through all these years.

Why didn't Min Min-Hyun didn't become the CEO and remain the interim CEO was a mystery to you all these years, but you dared never ask. From age five to twenty-five, you grew up and became the exact opposite of what your mother was— weak, afraid to speak up, and happy to live under the rock. You completed your master's from Seoul University in Computational Science and Technology. Fortunately for you, your Uncle and Aunt let you complete your education in peace under the fear of what the elite society would say, rather how would they explain your lack of education to society.

You had a fair idea of what happened behind your back and how unwanted you were in your own house but you chose to ignore it. After all the years and the absence of love, care, and dignity, Min Y/N turned out to be a failure. That's what you thought. You were never validated, all you ever thought of yourself was a burden.

But there was one area that you were quite useful— to sign. Your parents had made plans for an unseen future too. So the moment you turned eighteen it was a provision in their will for you to hold and exercise the power of the signee in major decisions of the company. That's all you did. Sign. Whatever your Uncle and brother asked you to sign, you did. You never mustered the courage to ask questions and fight back, forget about fighting for what was rightfully yours.

______________________________________________________

The Min Household bustled with some extra energy today, everyone was running around with an extra bounce in their steps. Your Aunt, especially, looked extra cheerful today as she ordered the staff around. The preparations were in full swing and you looked around in confusion as the day seemed a little brighter in the household instead of the usual cold, dead atmosphere. That's what you liked to call it.

“Ahh, Y/n have a seat.” Your Uncle who was seated at the head of the table called you, and you reluctantly made your way to the chair assigned to you. He put his chopsticks down and soon enough, the remaining three joined the table.

“Y/n, I want you to meet someone today. He is the son of my very dear friend Kim Jun-Seon.“ You looked at him in confusion. The term ‘meet someone’ was already ringing warning bells in your head— were you about to be married off to someone you didn't even know?

“Samchon I–”

“Y/n, are you questioning your Samchon? Has he ever thought of anything besides your well-being? Did we raise you to question us like this?” Your Aunt faked annoyance by her overdramatic and very old move— gasping with her hand on her chest.

“I did not question—” You tried to reason but like every other time, you were cut off.

“That's what I thought.” Your Aunt smiled at you, gesturing to her husband to continue.

“So, Namjoon is a well-known businessman and I think you would make a perfect wife for him.” Your Uncle smiled at your shocked state and you nervously sipped on your glass of water while your cousins giggled at your predicament.

“Meet him for lunch at the Country Club at 2. Is that understood?” You immediately recognized the edge to his voice and meekly nodded your head. Great, so you were about to be married off to a stranger you had never seen once in your entire life and you didn't have a choice, but then again when did you have one?

You finished your breakfast in silence and went up to your room to find a ‘marriage meeting appropriate’ dress that your Aunt had gracefully termed it as. You huffed at your wardrobe, getting irritated at the situation. You plopped down on the bed and closed your eyes in irritation. You were dying to scream at every living being but you definitely couldn't do that.

You picked the least interesting dress that you could find in your closet and paired it with a denim jacket and threw on some white sneakers with it. You curled your hair in waves and applied a light nude lipstick to go with it. A businessman, is it?

The driver was already at the door, Waiting for you. Without a word you got into the car and sighed irritably. You pulled out your phone and googled the so-called businessman and immediately the page loads with the results.

You were taken aback by the picture of the man staring back at you through your screen. If this was the man that you were potentially going to be married off to, then you certainly were missing out on something. Kim Namjoon, the heir to Kim Inc. was certainly an enigmatic man. He looked beyond handsome and for a weak minute, you almost thought the screen didn't do justice to the man's godly appearance. Those fierce eyes, and dimpled cheeks along with the most perfect set of teeth you had ever seen.

Thoughts plagued your mind into deep confusion, so deep that you didn't even notice the car coming to a stop at the entrance of the club. Your driver politely pulled you out of your thoughts and you thanked him sheepishly.

You got down and straightened your dress and made your way to the restaurant. You checked the time and you were exactly ten minutes early for this impromptu surprise meeting. The host led you to the assigned table and you patiently waited for Mr. Namjoon to arrive.

Half an hour later, disappointment started creeping up your veins. If he did not bother showing up or at least informing you that he couldn't make it, it was very clear that he viewed you the same way your Uncle and Aunt viewed you as. A dispensable being.

You get up from your seat in utter disappointment and leave the table without a complaint and start taking defeating steps towards the door. The doorman opens the door for you with a polite smile and you smile back. At least somebody else deserves to have a good day.

______________________________________________________

Namjoon ran his fingers over the rim of his glass of whiskey patiently, while Yoongi and Jin bickered among themselves over some issue which wasn't even of importance in the first bit.

“Poor thing looks disappointed.” Jin sighed, turning his face towards the bar while Yoongi kept fidgeting with his phone.

“Serves her right for agreeing to marry a stranger who she hasn't even met.” Namjoon took a big gulp of his whiskey in irritation, gesturing to the bartender for a refill. He had been present, way before you had come to the country club, and from what he gathered from his father, you weren't going to complain to anyone. You would suck it up. There was no sense in wasting his precious thirty minutes on a stranger, who had it inbuilt in them to suck everything up that was thrown their way.

“A little communication would have been nice though you know?”

“A little warning would have been nice you know, if my father was going to spring up this stupid marriage on me? But did I get it? No! Then that girl doesn’t get one either.” Namjoon scoffed.

“And now you're just projecting.” Yoongi and Jin tried to reason with Namjoon but they knew well this man wouldn't be reasoned with when he was mad, and right now, Kim Namjoon was absolutely livid. He was given a five-hour notice just like Y/n to meet a potential match for marriage, and if Namjoon knew anything about his father, he was already betrothed to Y/n. His choice and his say didn't matter to the old man.

Namjoon was sick and tired of his father dominating his life over and over again. He wasn't opposing this marriage because he had someone in his life, he was solely against the idea of this marriage because this was nothing but a business transaction to his father.

His father announced at breakfast that he would be meeting a potential match for lunch today, Min Y/n. He had nothing to say about the girl except for the fact that she was a pushover, and the only added advantage that she had to her side was that she was the heir to Digitron Systems. Namjoon sensed his father had very shady motives.

He knew his father was a vulture and the lengths that this man went to were scary, and his father had him right where he wanted. Despite being qualified and more than ready to be the CEO, his father had kept him hanging by the thread. He didn't want to let go of the position yet and Namjoon had been working extremely hard for it.

Namjoon was tired of his father and his games, so he had made it clear when his father asked him to marry Y/n that he would not stay at the mansion anymore.

If nothing, he would be able to breathe in his own space, and Namjoon was sure this was the only outcome that was going to come out of this useless marriage.

"Joon-ah, chill the fuck out, you don't know her side to the story. From what you've said, she doesn't seem to be in a good position either. Rather than humiliating her, I would suggest you rather go and talk to her." Namjoon looked at Yoongi in defeat, knowing he made sense.

Maybe this was his way out .

__________________________________________________________

Y/n entered the mansion with a gloomy look and a sad state of mind. Is this how her life after her marriage would be too? From what she remembered, her parents never had such a marriage, then why did she have to have it?

Namjoon didn't bother letting her know he wouldn't come, nor did he apologise for his rude behaviour and that certainly did tell a lot about a person.

"Y/n-ah come here." Her Aunt's shrill voice greeted her inside the seating area and she looked at her in shock, her Aunt was actually walking towards her with open arms.

"You're going to be the daughter-in-law of the Kims." She hugged you tightly and you choked on air.

How the hell were you supposed to be their daughter-in-law if the son of the Kim family didn't bother to show up? Isn't that the unsaid sign of someone's disinterest?

"I-"

"Oh, I know you're happy and I'm glad the meeting went well, Namjoon must have a liking towards your kind." Your eyes widened at her words, was that really what he said?

It was beyond you why Namjoon did what he did, he certainly wasn't a good person if he ditched his future wife first and then went on to lie about it.

"The wedding will take place four weeks from now, Jun-Seon and Namjoon will be here to discuss the wedding later in the evening." Your Uncle's voice boomed through the hall and you had no choice but to go along with it, as you always had. Why bother even informing you at this point?

You absentmindedly nodded your head to everything they said and ran back to your room. Once the door was shut, you immediately screamed your lungs, muffling the sounds by stuffing your face in the pillow.

This wasn't what your parents might have wanted for you, this wasn't how you wanted to live your life, the Y/N that your Uncle and Aunt had molded into the years were two different people.

The Y/n that stayed in your mind kept screaming murder whenever something unfair happened, but the Y/n that was physically present would just nod her head and move on. You would just suck it up, and that was your downfall.

__________________________________________________________

The atmosphere continued to be the same as it was in the morning, useless enthusiasm and utter chaos.

The staff running around as your Aunt yelled useless instructions, not that they didn't mean anything but it was rather her instructing one thing but changing it the next second. You didn't get the point of doing all this, all the futile attempts at doing these preparations because the groom's family was already well acquainted.

The evening rolled by, with your extreme anticipation and a single visit from your Aunt to make sure you didn't throw away their dignity in front of the dogs, inshort, dress up according to Min's standard. It was like they forgot at times that you were a Min too.

The Kim's arrived at the given time and you looked behind Uncle Kim’s back to see if the man was here or he'd ditch this too. Though secretly, you prayed for the exact thing, for him to miss this charade.

With the afternoon's incident still imprinted fresh in your mind, you scowled at the tall figure that appeared behind Uncle Kim.

You stopped breathing for a second looking at the man, dressed in an all black suit, Kim Namjoon absolutely defined all terms of beauty.

Your eyes met for a second when his father moved a little to the side to greet your Uncle and he immediately withdrew his gaze. His face was etched into a stoic expression, making his displeasure of being here at this moment evident.

Your Uncle and Aunt led them to the dinner table, while you lingered behind everyone looking for an escape, there could be a chance if you were somehow able to escape this hell hole and make a straight beeline to your room.

You notice something move from the corner of your eye but the voice of your Aunt takes your attention away from it.

"Y/n come on, join us, don't just stand there like a guest." Your eyes widen at her statement, considering you've been a guest in your own house for the past twenty years.

"I think I forgot something in the hall, let me just grab it real quick." You don't wait for a response and immediately turn around and make your way to the main hall from the dining hall.

If you could just disappear until the dinner started, then nobody would notice you and you could happily bounce back to your room, and that would be the end of this night.

But you were definitely wrong.

Strong hands grab yours by the passage and you let out a squeak at the rough grip. You see Namjoon looking down at you with a stern expression. And before you could utter a word, the next words that came out of his mouth resolved any questions you had. He had never said yes to this marriage and it was forced onto him as much as it was onto you.

"Say no to this stupid alliance, I have no intentions to get married to you. I don't need a pushover like you in my life." He growled and little beads of sweat started accumulating on your forehead, he looked like a monster waiting to be unleashed with his clenched jaw and those eyes that could possibly rip you of your life any second.

"But I-"

"I said, cancel this marriage. Did I stutter Miss Min?" He threatened and you nodded.

Never did you have the strong urge like today to throw your reality in your own home in someone's face. He must be kidding you if he thought your words held any weight here or if your Uncle and Aunt would possibly let you cancel this alliance.

"Y/n-ah, will you come in ?" Your Aunt's voice cut the thick tension between you and Namjoon. He hastily let go of your hand and ushered you inside while he followed closely behind.

You took your seat at the table while Namjoon took his seat right next to his father. The staff started serving the dishes and everyone started discussing the details of the wedding. You tuned out most parts of the conversation, keeping your eyes strictly glued to your food.

Dinner passed by just as fast as it had come and you had looked up just once when the chamomile tea was being served, only to notice Namjoon already glaring at you. You quickly averted your gaze back to your lap, immediately, the material of your dress looking more appealing than the Greek god who was soon to be your husband.

The night seemed to go on for quite a while, the men discussing everything, from the wedding to matters of business. While your cousins had already retired to their respective rooms, your Aunt's sharp cough had glued you back to the couch when you tried to follow them.

Of course, you were the bride, after all.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Y/n-ah, take care of yourself." Uncle Kim muttered, giving you the fakest plastic smile, and you bowed politely to him. How could you possibly feel nice about meeting a person when you've actually never had a word with them, was still a question to you. Maybe Uncle Kim found people who just sat there and nodded their heads nice, that was the only logical explanation that you had.

Namjoon glared at you again before he left, greeting your Uncle and Aunt along the way. You wanted to say so much to this guy— for treating you like shit, almost threatening you, but all you could manage was to look down. Again.

"We will have the planners coming in from tomorrow, so much work. I think I've already added a few extra years to my face and it's not even my daughter's wedding." Your Aunt complained as she got rid of her earrings while making her way upstairs and her words hurt you more than they should have. Twenty years was way too long to have not gotten used to such comments but it still hurt like a bitch. You shift uncomfortably and try to find the voice to say something.

"Samchon I-" Your Aunt and Uncle stop midway and look at you as you have grown a second head. God forbid you could finish one full sentence in this house.

"Any problem Y/n?"

"Samchon I wanted to-"

"-Thank us for finding you such a wealthy family and such a worthy husband?" Your Uncle completed the sentence for you and once again any hopes of completion of Namjoon’s request had gone down the drain.

Funny how you thought any of your words would be paid heed here, your Aunt and Uncle had already gone up to their room leaving you standing like a fool.

You dragged your feet up to your bedroom in defeat, mentally preparing yourself to be exposed to the wrath of Namjoon the next time he meets you. You tried. You definitely tried. He should have known better than to put trust in you. Your words were never heard in this house, forget paying heed to them.

You had to be kidding yourself if you thought your life would be any better after you would be transported to the Kim household. You were going to be what you were here, a pushover.

__________________________________________________________

"I don't want to marry her."

"What did you just say?" Namjoon’s father bellowed at his son's statement, all while Namjoon stood there, rooted in his spot, throwing angry glances at him.

"I said, I don't want to marry her." Namjoon stated firmly, not taking his eyes off the old man even once.

"I heard you the first time, brat, but I don't remember asking you." He growled and Namjoon took a step back, clenching his fists. He knew exactly where this was going and he didn't want to end up giving this man exactly what he wanted..

"Don't I get a choice in deciding who I want to spend the rest of my life with?"

"Did I give you a choice to become the sole heir of Kim Inc.? Did I give you a choice to inherit all this wealth? You will have it either way. So have Y/N either way too."

"She's not what I want, and Appa to quote what you said, ‘that girl’s a meek cat, won't save her own life by speaking up’. I don't want to marry such a girl." Namjoon tried to reason with his father, but the old man simply snickered in disgust.

"Do you even know how much Digitron Systems is worth? I'm giving you a legacy, you foolish, ungrateful brat and this is how you repay me?" Namjoon clenched his fists harder, barely compressing the urge to yell at his father but he knew where this would lead to if he did.

"You just don’t care about me! I won't marry that woman." Namjoon uttered the last words in utter desperation to which his father looked at him in disgust and made his way upstairs.

"I am not fucking marrying that woman, Appa." Namjoon yelled.

"Again! I did not ask you, Namjoon. Three weeks from now, Y/n is to become your wife and you will stand on the altar if you want to be the CEO of Kim Inc. and also the MD of Digitron Systems later or you can make your own bloody money." His father bellows and Namjoon throws the vase in front of him in frustration, shattering it into a million pieces.

"You better have called off this wedding Y/n," Namjoon mutters as he makes himself a drink.

If only he knew how wrong he was, so wrong.

___________________________________________________________

The loud blaring sound of your alarm wakes you up from your sleep the next day, disturbing the wonderful world that existed only in your sleep.

The unknown number danced in front of your crusty eyes and you decided to ignore the call. The least you could do was decide who could wreck your head this early.

You tried sleeping again but sleep had already bid goodbye after the blaring call, which you didn't bother returning back. You got up lazily and decided to get ready, while your phone kept ringing. You finished your shower in a haste, deciding to tend to this dying person who insisted on calling you every minute. But nothing could have prepared you for the hellfire that was going to be rained down on you by none other than the man who was supposed to vow to respect and protect you.

"You had one job." The voice roared at the other end, your eyes devoid of any traces of sleep that could have been left in your brain.

"I told you, didn't I? I told you to call off the wedding." Namjoon kept shouting on the other end without allowing you to speak and tears welled up in your eyes. Was this how it was always going to be, him yelling and you trying not to cry?

"I-"

"Just shut up, fucking shut up!" Namjoon bellowed again and you shut up under the fear of worsening his temper. Funny how everytime it had to be you who had to moderate the temper issues people had, be it your Uncle, Aunt or your cousins and now Namjoon. Funny how nobody ever thought it was their damn responsibility to keep themselves under check and be careful of not hurting others with their words.

"If you think you're out of your hellhole, and somehow you're gonna live here any differently, let me break that bubble, you're going to end up in a fresh one." Your eyes widened at his words, while Namjoon hung up the call right on your face.

You never expected things to change, you never expected things to be any different when you would have a different surname but hearing it out loud made a different kind of shiver run down your spine.

This had to be bad, this was bad. A harsh knock sounded on your door, throwing your thoughts out of the window. You dragged your feet to the door, only to find your very displeased Aunt waiting like a lioness ready to devour her prey.

"Why aren't you at the breakfast table already?" You looked at her like a deer caught in headlights and a confused expression on your face, why would she personally come to call you when she had an army of servants at her beck and call.

"One thing, one thing you had to do and yet you can't seem to do that right either." She huffed, waving her finger at you and you immediately put your head down. How many wrong things could you do in a day?

You walked behind your Aunt defeated, while she kept muttering about how annoying you were. It stung bad but you had already grown immune to these small stings, though the bigger insults still got to you. These snide comments had stopped breaking your heart years ago. You were annoying, your existence was unwanted, you got that. Why was it necessary to rub it in your face?

You reached just in time to the table before your Uncle got there and your cousins threw an annoying look at you which only irked you further.

It was surprising that the entire family was waiting for you, and you definitely smelled conspiracy.

Your Uncle took a seat at the head of the table and cleared his throat while you looked at all of them curiously, waiting for the hell to unleash.

"Y/n-ah your wedding preparations begin from today and all you have to do is go for the fitting of your wedding dress, rest you can leave it to us, like always." You nodded at his words and he began eating his breakfast.

"Appa, I want to wear Gucci for her wedding, and I want an Armani tux." Your cousins voiced their wishes to which your Uncle nodded, smiling all sunshine on them.

"Of course, choose what you want to wear. We will have it done." He gestured at his wife who only beamed at her children.

"My daughter is going to look the prettiest." She fawned over her daughter which kind of made you jealous. They continued to bicker over their breakfast while you continued to wonder how happy your parents would have been today when their daughter would be walking down the aisle in a matter of a few weeks.

____________________________________________________________

"Miss Min, these are the options that we have." The manager of the store showed you the array of the white dresses that were hung, each more beautiful than the other.

You ran your fingers delicately over the lace of the dresses, admiring each of their intricate designs, mentally imagining yourself in these dresses.

Funny how these little things that go into making a bride’s happy day didn't make you any happier. While the store was filled with daughters and mothers, fiances looking at their brides trying on the dresses as if they were the prettiest being in the world, you stood there alone with two stylists ready to help you with your choice.

All you could do in this moment was be thankful that you atleast had the choice to choose your own dress.

"I would like to try this please."

The assistant nodded with a polite smile, taking the dress with her to the trial room, politely requesting you to follow her.

You checked the dress out in the mirror, smiling at the look of it, it hugged your curves well once the fitting was finished, the delicate designs and frill adding to the overall beauty.

The stylist finished adding the clips to your waist to give you a brief idea of how the fitting would be done. You looked at the dress again but it didn't give you the vibe you were going for anymore. Although you had liked it at first, it didn't give that vibe off anymore .

"There are other options too, Miss Min, you can have a look at them." The stylist must have noticed the hesitance in your eyes. You nodded at her and she quickly made her way out to bring in the other dress.

You wore the second dress and instantly knew this was it. The dress came in a shade of pearl white and it had flowers all over the upper body, mixed with lace and hand woven flowers. The way it hugged your body looked surreal, the deep neck giving off a sexy yet elegant look, not that it mattered anyway.

You smiled at the overall look and the stylist immediately gave a happy smile. She excused herself, and you kept looking at yourself in the mirror, tracing the patterns on the dress.

You didn't notice the stylist entering again and while you were busy getting lost in the white heaven, you felt something on your head and immediately goosebumps littered your skin as you looked up.

She had placed a veil on your head.

"You look gorgeous, Miss Min." She beamed at you and exited the trial room.

The look was complete, everything felt surreal at this point. Assembling the entire dress, minus the bouquet, hit a realisation that you were actually being wed exactly twenty days later to be precise.

Tears streamed down your face as the situation hit you. You had never imagined even in your wildest imagination that you would somehow be okay with the kind of situation you were in right now.

What kind of bride only chooses her wedding dress in her own wedding? And more importantly, what kind of bride is okay with the fact that her husband hates her guts? There was nothing much you could do right now and there wouldn't be anything much that you could do in the future either. All you had to do was suck it up.

Only if it were that easy.

____________________________________________________________

The wedding preparations started from lazy meetings with the planners to full blown discussions between the elders about how the wedding must be a feather in the cap for both the parties.

You never saw Namjoon for any of the meetings for the wedding, he was maybe running, you thought. Although there was no need for your presence, you had no idea why your Aunt insisted that you sit with them in these meetings.

Twenty meetings later, you hadn't even uttered twenty words. It was your wedding for god's sake. But it was always like that, wasn't it? You massage your aching temples as the last touches to the ceremony were finalised and everyone dispersed for their work, which did not concern you.

All these days, eighteen days to be precise, you had no contact with Namjoon, except the one phone call he had made to rain down hell fire on you.

You knew nothing about Namjoon and you doubted he knew anything about you either. There wasn't much to know either way. Twenty-five years old, barely two friends who were now away from your hometown, no boyfriends either so far, no parents, an extremely introverted and afraid person by nature.

That was all there for Min Y/N.

A twenty-eight year old businessman, extremely short tempered, full of attitude. That was all you knew about Kim Namjoon, exactly forty-eight hours before you would be promised to each other forever.

___________________________________________________________

"What the hell is wrong with you, you fool?"

The loud banging of the files on the wooden table jerked Namjoon back to reality, his attention strayed from the files he was working on. He looked up at his father who was fuming, smoke ready to burst from his ears.

"What did I do now, Appa?" He sounded cool and composed, which most of the time irked his father too much.

"I told you ten days ago to go pick a ring with Y/n, give me one good reason why you haven't gone yet." He thundered and Namjoon closed the files in frustration.

"I forgot and for that reason, I told you ten times I don't want to marry her. But you never listen, do you Appa?"

"Kim Namjoon, you better leave this instant, pick Y/n up and go get your wedding rings. I will not have your ungrateful ass stand at the altar without your wedding ring."

Namjoon banged his fists on the table in anger, the only way he could voice his disagreement and muttered an inaudible ‘fine’ and banged the door on his way out.

Namjoon fumed at his fullest as he drove to Y/n's home. He was very comfortable with his life, focusing his entire attention on becoming the best he could, the best possible version, be it for becoming the CEO of Kim Inc.

Out of nowhere his father barrelled Y/n into his life, disrupting everything. For one, he never thought of getting married, maybe later, yes. But if he was ever to get married, he definitely wanted someone who was intelligent, well-spoken and someone who was brave enough to choose, choose for herself, choose what she wanted in her partner and with a levelled head.

Y/N was the exact opposite, his father called her a meek cat, a pushover. He definitely didn't want his wife to be called that. What kind of a life would he be looking at with such a person?

He was supposed to marry Y/n because she had Digitron Systems, but he had no greed for power, all he wanted was free reign over his own company and for it to be the best. But it turns out that the old man had different plans.

He had no idea what he was going to do, afterall, by this time tomorrow Kim Namjoon would be a married man.

____________________________________________________________

"Oh, Y/n, I was about to send someone to call you right now, look who's here?" You slipped two steps and landed on your ass as soon as you saw you your Aunt was referring to.

"Forgive her Namjoon-ah, Y/n can be clumsy at times." Your Aunt smiled sheepishly as you got up and dusted your dress. Namjoon's expression turned to disgust as he kept watching you, and your Aunt smirked, looking at your clumsiness.

You had first handedly embarrassed yourself in front of your fiance and the fact that he was here gave you all sorts of ideas of the new type of hell fire he was here to rain on you.

"Namjoon is here to take you to get the wedding rings."

Wedding rings? Wow. That had entirely skipped your mind. How come he had remembered it just a day before your wedding? How did the planners forget this detail was beyond you.

Namjoon cleared his throat and took his leave, gesturing to you to follow him. You walked with him upto his car and he immediately got in, you hesitated a bit, but got in immediately after he honked twice.

The entire drive was silent, except for a few glares he sent your way and you thanked every force in the universe for not exposing you to his wrath. You saw the way Namjoon was clutching at the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white and you couldn’t muster the courage to talk him because of the way he was going up in flames. It showed on his face— he kept clenching his jaw, the death grip on the steering wheel and most importantly, his refusal to utter a word to you. He never spoke a word.

You reached the store and Namjoon parked the car and hurriedly got down. He only waited for a moment before you got down and before you could take a step ahead, he locked the car and stormed off, leaving you rooted to the spot. The long strides that he took gave away his disinterest of even walking with you for a few steps. This had to stop, you didn't know how but this definitely had to stop.

All this hate and anger towards you had to stop, Because as a matter of fact, you never did anything. You were just informed of the decision. Then why the hell were you being punished for something you didn't choose. You made up your mind to talk to him on the way back, no matter how hard it was.

The Kims and the Mins combined were enough for the store to put together the rings for you and Namjoon in a few hours' notice apparently.

“Mr. Kim, Ms. Min, you can choose anything from this exclusive collection and we will have it delivered to you early tomorrow morning.” The sales assistant politely explained the situation and waited for your choices from the set of perfectly breathtaking solitaires that decorated the crystal box.

You felt a pair of eyes on the side of your head and you in an instant knew, You had to pick a ring, quick. The sales assistant started with the heaviest and most expensive ones, but that didn't interest you one bit. Instead your eyes fell on a simple single stone ring and that fascinated you the most. Just a small stone in the middle, that was perfect. Just the way you liked it. You had never liked anything over the top. You took the liberty to choose the ring since you chose your wedding dress.

The sales assistant gave you the most amusing smile as you pushed the ring towards her, her eyes clearly mocking you. You paid no heed to her and looked elsewhere. You already had enough of that in your house, and you certainly didn't need that shit from outsiders too.

“Is that what you're going to wear after you’re the wife of Kim Namjoon?” His harsh tone was enough to make you regret your choice for a lifetime. You moved a little to the side and Namjoon immediately took over.

“I want the most expensive ring you have. I need it delivered tomorrow. Charge it on this card.” You looked at Namjoon like he was about to throw a shit load of money away, The most expensive one? Was he crazy? Who were you actually going to show that ring off to?

“I don't think such an expensive ring is necessary. I'm okay with the simplest one.” You managed to speak a full sentence under the death glare that he was throwing at you and you were ready to take his wrath, but you definitely weren't going to waste a shit ton of money over you. Namjoon kept his composure in the store, you could clearly see that.

The moment you left the store, Namjoon grabbed your arm twice as harshly as he did the first time. You yelped in pain but he paid no attention. This was going to bruise. It would show, definitely show in the wedding dress. There were no sleeves in the first place.

Namjoon nearly toppled you over three times with the grip and the speed that he was walking towards the car with, and you had to steady yourself real hard in case you fell down, face first this time.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He roared and you took a step back in fear. The anger that was showing on his face now was a hundred times more than you had ever seen.

“I-”

“I am stuck here forever with your sorry ass, nobody asked me, Threw you at me like I was some dog waiting for a bone. And I requested one thing, huh, one bloody thing and you couldn't do that?” He seethed and you tried to speak to him, to tell him nobody asked you either, and nobody listened to you either when you went to your Samchon to tell him to call this wedding off.

“Is that how desperate you are? To jump the bones of the first man that your Aunt and Uncle introduced you to? All I wanted was to concentrate on making myself capable of taking over Kim Inc. and now I'm dumped with a pushover of a person whose only bloody job is to suck it up. Funny how even your own parents didn't put up with you either.”

The last words broke you. They broke you into pieces. Your parents died, and so what? Was this how you came across to people? You knew you were no good, but this? Tears welled up in your eyes and you took a stepp back before you ran away. Namjoon did not bother following you and you did not bother turning back. You were going to free him of all of this. That's it. You were done with everything and everyone in your life.

It was no use living like this, it was no use being such a nuisance for everyone like this. You slowed down to walk, your lungs started acting up and the breathlessness from running so much started catching up to you.

You took a seat at the nearest bus stop to catch your breath. The hustling of the city, people running around to reach their destinations, you watched the bustling life with tears in your eyes, refusing to stop. No one had ever thrown the harsh reality in your face so hard. How could you possibly stay with a person who hated you this bad and how could you possibly live with the fact that you married him despite knowing this?

Your Aunt and Uncle would never listen and they would wed you off tomorrow to Namjoon. You got up from your seat, wiping the tears which were flowing freely ever since Namjoon’s outburst. You walked aimlessly, going where the road took you. You heard a distant shouting of your name but ignored it. It definitely must be your brain playing with you, afterall it only had a few more breathing moments left before you left this world for good.

You stopped by an old building. The security of the building was nowhere to be seen and it didn't matter either. What was the security and the camera going to do to you when you were dead? The loud calling of your name kept ringing through your ears, but you did not stop. You kept climbing the floors in hope of reaching the end soon.

You pushed open the door of the terrace and the cold wind blew the hair away from your face. You took slow steps, your heart beating the fastest it ever had, so fast and loud that you could hear it. Tears started flowing more aggressively as your feet dragged you towards the railing and you climbed up.

Your life flashed in front of your eyes, as you stood at the end of the rail while Seoul continued to function just the way it was. It was sad that all you could remember was sad, hurtful memories, while only the happy ones which were vague by now and they were with your parents.

You let out an ear piercing scream, a scream for every time you had been wronged. For every time no one listened to you, a scream for every time you cried yourself to sleep and a scream for every time you were insulted as easily as breathing and finally a scream for every damn time you were called a pushover.

You took a deep breath, wiping your tears away. You took one step ahead and suddenly you were pulled down harshly by someone behind you. The man tried to hold you but you ended up landing on your knee.

“What the fuck were you doing?” The pale man, all red in face and panting heavily, still refused to let go of your hand as you tried to withdraw your hand away from him.

“Who are you?” You tried to move away from him but he refused to budge.

“How the fuck does that matter when you were just going to throw yourself off this building?” He roared and that broke the last dam of tears as you realised what you were about to do. You cried your heart out and the man held you in his arms, patting your back soothingly to reassure you that you were safe.

You calmed down after some time as slowly, the gravity of what exactly you were going to do slowly settled with you. The stranger helped you sit up and you leaned your back against the wall.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked you in a cautious tone, which felt more like he didn't want to agitate you further.

“I don't know where to start.” The tears slowly began flowing again and your nose already stuffed began acting up. The stranger started mumbling quick apologies before he passed his handkerchief to you.

You smiled weakly at the man, who looked so apologetic, almost looked like an older brother who felt like shit after he made his little sister cry. You smiled at the man, and he visibly relaxed.

“If you're okay with it, tell me why you were trying to fall to death?” He tried to probe gently and you smiled again at how carefully he was trying to tread here.

“It’s okay, you can ask why I was trying to commit suicide?’’

“You didn't answer it though.” You took a deep breath at his question. Maybe you could tell a stranger. It wasn't like you would see him again after today.

“I'm getting married tomorrow.” You started, waiting for his reaction but he didn't look surprised at least a bit.

“Okay, go ahead.”

“My fiance hates me. He doesn't want to get married to me. I tried calling off the wedding but nobody would listen to me.” You shuddered at the first meeting with Namjoon where he had very subtly threatened you to call off the wedding.

“Why would your parents get you married to a man that you were trying to call off the wedding with? Why don't they listen to you?”

“No, it's not my parents, they're no more. It's my Aunt and Uncle. They never listen to me, for them, all I am is a burden. I have no idea why they are hell bent on getting me married to Namjoon, but they just wouldn't listen.” You took a deep breath and leaned your head backwards. The man turned and sat facing towards you and took your hands gently in his, as the tears made an appearance again.

“So you don't want to get married to Namjoon?” His question caught you off guard since you never thought about it this way, you never thought if you wanted to get married in the first place.

“I dont know.” His eyes shot up at your response and you chuckled bitterly.

“What do you mean you dont know?”

“I was never asked in the first place, you know. My Uncle told me that I was meeting his friend’s son for lunch and that it was a potential marriage meeting. The guy never turned up, so I thought maybe it was a clear rejection but when I reached home, I was told that Namjoon had agreed to get married and that he had a liking for my kind.”

“Your kind?” The stranger looked thoroughly surprised.

“Yeah, my kind, the one who never speaks up, all I've ever done is just suck up everything that happened to me. In my own house, I'm like a bloody burden. All everybody ever does is order me around, insult me, let me know constantly what kind of a burden I am. That's my kind.” Your voice broke at the last sentence. It was actually heartbreaking to say that out loud for yourself, but sadly that was the truth.

“It's not like I haven't tried, But I just can't seem to speak up. It's been like this since I was a kid. I think all the hatred and that constant jabbing turns people this way.”

“Your Aunt and Uncle are pieces of shit. And so is this Namjoon.” You laugh at his words and he immediately raises his eyebrows.

“What's funny?”

“I don't know about my Aunt and Uncle, but Namjoon doesn't seem like shit.”

“How so?’’

“His anger always seemed out of the helplessness of the situation. I think he didn't have a say in this either. He was trying to escape this through me. Wish I could tell you I was in the same boat too.” The sun had already set and the darkness had already crept in the terrace of the building illuminated by only a faint light near you.

“Why were you trying to jump to death?”

“Namjoon and I had an argument. I really, really wanted to speak to him about what had happened, and he snapped–”

“Did he hurt you?” You heard the threat in his voice and immediately answered his question.

“Not physically, he just said some pretty nasty things and that cut the last straw for me. Nobody would listen to me either way and I didn't find it in me to walk down the aisle knowing that the man standing at the end of it hates me. So, to rid everyone of the trouble, I thought I'd get rid of myself.”

“Look–

“Y/n.”

“Yeah, look Y/n, this isn't a solution. Maybe Namjoon isn't ready to listen right now because he is angry, angry at himself, his folks and maybe the situation too, but he's projecting that on you instead. So instead of trying to jump away from your problems, jump right in. You're going to be married to Namjoon and from what you said, I don't see a way out of this, not for you and not for him. So rather get that dick to sit with you and talk it out.”

The man's advice made sense to you. You wanted to do that today but it took a turn in the worst way. Maybe you could talk to Namjoon when he has had the time to cool off.

“Thank you.” You smile at the man and he pats your head.

“Look, I don't know, seeing you and rushing behind you and saving you right before you jumped is a sign that maybe you aren't supposed to die. There might be a lot of things in store for you.”

“Good things, I hope.” You laugh and he laughs along with you. You feel much lighter now, after speaking your heart out to a stranger, and probably speaking the most you've ever done in front of any human.

“It's late, let me drop you home. But before that, here–” The man hands you his card and you accept it.

“Min Yoongi.” He extends a hand and you take it with a big smile.

“Min Y/n.” He smiles his gummy smile and pats your head once again. You secretly wish you had a big brother like him.

“Anytime, absolutely anytime the buildings start looking good enough to jump for you, you need to call me. Treat me as your older brother from now on.” He warns you.

“Will you come save me again?” Yoongi laughs at your question.

“I'll talk you out of it and maybe as a bonus, beat that Namjoon’s ass too if he is the reason why you go looking out for buildings to jump from.”

“Thank you, Oppa.”

“Anytime, Kid. Now let's go before your people start losing their shit.”

Yoongi leads you down the stairs and you walk a little ahead where he had parked his car before he sprinted off behind you. Yoongi tells you about his family, his wife Suhaa and his daughter Dae.

You watch Yoongi smile as he tells you about his wife and cute stories of Dae. You secretly wished that maybe one day, one day you would have the chance to tell your story to someone with the same loving smile.

You arrive in front of your home and Yoongi immediately steps down to open the door for you. You get down the car with a heavy heart, getting ready to face the hell waiting for you.

“Oppa, can I request you something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you attend my wedding tomorrow? Please bring Suhaa and Dae along too. It will be nice to see you there. I'll text you the details.” Yoongi smiles his full gummy smile at you before nodding his head at you.

“Of Course, Kid, I'll be there.”

You thank him for accepting your invitation and bow to him before going inside while Yoongi leaves only after you get inside. You make your way to the inside of the house and see everyone going about their own business. You thank god for not bringing you home to drama, you already had your share for today.

You wordlessly go to your room and shut the door. The events of the day are heavy enough to put you to sleep instantly.

___________________________________________________________

Yoongi barges in the summer house where Namjoon and the others were already drinking away in celebration of the last night before Namjoon would be a married man tomorrow, but instead of celebrating this night, Yoongi had other plans.

He wanted to punch the idiocy off Namjoon. How dare he make someone so miserable that they wanted to end their life? What would have happened if he hadn't seen you by accident, sobbing the hell out at a public place, and what would have happened if he hadn't felt something wasn't right and hadn't decided to follow you.

“Yah Hyung, you're late.” Jimin comes over to Yoongi to greet him, but Yoongi just pushes Jimin aside and walks straight up to the dick of his best friend/brother.

Jin and Namjoon look up to an angry looking Yoongi walking straight up to them, Namjoon comes forward to speak but is immediately greeted by a punch straight to his face.

“How could you do that bastard?” Yoongi roared and the rest five of them were stunned into silence, watching Yoongi beat the shit out of Namjoon.

“What the hell did I do, Hyung?” Namjoon asks, wiping the blood off his lips as Jin helps him off the floor.

“What did you say to Y/n?”

“Wait, how did she–?” Before Namjoon could finish the sentence Yoongi caught him by his collar while the rest of them struggled to separate the two.

“What the fuck did you say to her?” Namjoon tried to make sense of Yoongi's behaviour, but the man didn't give him a chance.

“We had an argument at the store earlier. And how the hell did she bitch about it to you?” Yoongi scoffed at the younger sentence.

“She didn't bitch, you dumb ass.”

“She told you, isn't it?”

“Yeah she did, but right after I pulled her off before she was fucking going to jump down from a building.” Everyone of the six men were stunned into silence.

“She did what?” Namjoon could not believe his ears, was it because of him that you were going to? He didn't even want to think about it.

Yoongi told the guys what happened and how he found you crying near a bus stop and how you were mindlessly walking around and how he had a hunch that something wasn't right and he had followed you, only to find that you were about to throw yourself off the building and most importantly, how you didn't even think twice before trying to jump.

“Thank you, Hyung, I don't know how I would have lived with myself if something had happened to her.” Namjoon breathed a sigh of relief knowing that you were safe now. He didn't hate you, he was just angry at you because you didn't try to call the wedding off, but now it looked like you weren't in the wrong either. But he was totally wrong for projecting that on you.

“Namjoon, I know you are not happy with the situation, but she isn't at fault either. She's being wronged at her own house, so the least you can do is just be friendly with her until both of you figure out the situation together.”

“I know, Hyung. I will apologise to her.” Yoongi patted the younger ones back, happy that Namjoon had come to his senses finally.

“But Hyung, how did you recognize Y/n?” Jungkook asked, handing over a glass of whiskey.

“Oh, he had put me and Yoongi on Y/n duty when he was supposed to meet her for the first time.” Jin chimed in and Yoongi nodded in raising the glass towards Namjoon.

“Weird, but okay. I guess that's what saved the day.” Jungkook nodded his head at Namjoon who just scowled at the youngest.

The guys continued drinking and the night rolled away in regrets, making fun, and being guilty.

___________________________________________________________

The household thrummed with a different type of excitement before you left for the venue. The stylists worked on you, perfecting every little detail of you. The never ending task finally came to an end after four hours and you were left to yourself for a few minutes before someone came to accompany you to the car.

You were pacing around the room when your Aunt entered the room. Taking a look at you, she smiled her perfectly non-distinguishable fake smile and you just looked away. You were out of here in a matter of a few hours. That's it.

“I hope you will be a good wife to Namjoon, Y/n-ah. You should be thankful he decided to marry you. Well, as for me and your Uncle, we are celebrating because we can finally have the house to ourselves.” You couldn't believe the words that came out of your Aunt's mouth. This woman had to be a new kind of evil to say such words to someone who is about to begin a new chapter of their life.

“Oh, by the way, come down, the car is ready. Let's get this over with.’’

You took one last look at the photo of your parents and opened the door. Your Aunt's words kept ringing in your head. Just how much hate did these people have for you? And what did you ever do to them to deserve so much hatred ? Were your Uncle and your father real brothers? How could someone treat their own niece so badly?

The wedding was something they wanted to get over with? Tears never came today for them, or the words that they had said to you just now. Instead, you frowned. You were in no way going to walk down the aisle with someone who had so much poison in their heart for you. You'd rather walk alone. You were walking alone all this while, weren't you? What was an aisle more?

You texted Yoongi to confirm if he and Suhaa were going to be present at the wedding, to which he promptly replied, stating that he was a few minutes away from the venue. You smiled at the text, thanking god, at least there was one person who meant well for you.

You reached the venue and made your way towards the room arranged for the bride. You kept your phone close incase Yoongi called. As soon as the door of the room closed, you made yourself comfortable on the couch, secretly wishing there wouldn't be any guests that you had to greet. You didn't know anyone either way and you had no friends here either.

You impatiently waited for Yoongi to arrive. You were ready to defy the norms for the first time, but nobody cared and so wouldn't you. You immediately video-called Yoongi and he picked up in an instant. There was sudden hushing on the other end, but you paid no heed to it. You had the chance now and you weren't letting it go.

“Y/n-ah, you look gorgeous.” Yoongi’s voice echoed through the room as soon as he answered.

“Oppa, did you and Suhaa arrive?” Yoongi laughed at your question and he turned the camera towards Suhaa who waved back at you.

“Oppa, can I ask you a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Could you come to the bride hall down the corridor on the first floor?” You fiddled with your dress as you waited patiently for him to arrive.

The door opened a few minutes later and Yoongi and a beautiful woman who you assumed was Suhaa, walked in. You smiled the widest as Suhaa stepped forward to hug you.

“Y/n-ie, you look so pretty, welcome to the family.” Suhaa hugged you and you smiled warmly at her.

“What favour did you want, Y/n-ah?” Yoongi interrupted your hug session and you both looked at him.

“Oppa, can you walk me down the aisle?” Yoongi choked on air the moment he heard your request.

“Y/n I–”

“My Aunt and Uncle are celebrating getting the house to themselves, I'm going to start a new phase in life and I'd rather start it with my older brother who saved my life by my side.”

Yoongi immediately pulled you in for a hug, Suhaa squealed and joined the hug while you thanked the stars for these new kind additions to your life.

“You know, if Namjoon hurts you or makes you cry, Yoongi will kick his ass.” Suhaa rubbed her hands in glee and Yoongi scowled at his wife.

“She's right, Y/n. But you’re late Suu, I already told her that.”

“You need to meet the rest of the girls, I'm sure you're going to have a lot of fun.” Your ears perked up at the mention of the other girls, not sure who these girls were.

“Who are the other girls?” Before Suhaa could answer, the door opened and the planner walked in and announced it was time for you to walk towards the hall. Namjoon had already arrived and was ready at the altar.

Your Uncle chose the exact same moment to walk in and without noticing the other presence in the room, he voiced his displeasure openly.

“Y/n-ah, let's get this over with. Come on.” He stopped as soon as he saw Yoongi and Suhaa, he immediately wore his fake smile and greeted him.

“Min Yoongi. It's a pleasure seeing you here-”

“I’ll walk Y/n-ie down the aisle, Mr. Min.” Yoongi extended his arm towards you and Suhaa immediately moved forward and clicked a quick picture, capturing a very confused Min Hyun Woo too.

“Thank you, Oppa.” Yoongi gently squeezed your arm while you took a deep breath at the fate waiting for you on the other side of the door, more importantly, the man waiting for you at the other side.

“Don't worry about anything further, alright?” Yoongi assured you as the door opened and the music began playing to welcome the bride.

Your Aunt and the rest of the family gave a very confused look, as Yoongi walked you down the aisle and so did Namjoon. Yoongi walks up to Namjoon and whispers something in his ear. Namjoon looks at him confused and Yoongi places your hand on Namjoon’s, giving him a brief hug.

The officiant begins the ceremony and soon enough you read your vows and exchange rings. The officiant declares you man and wife and Namjoon kisses your cheeks. He smiles a gentle smile at you and for a second, the lights and the music tune out in your head.

Did this man just smile at you?

Namjoon must have noticed this as he immediately grabs your hands gently and bow to the people. Namjoon holds your hand even while the last of the ceremony is being hosted by the officiant, and he declares you man and wife.

You freeze for a second when the ceremony is over, realising the major change that had just happened. You were married.

You had just become Kim Y/n.

Namjoon and you greet the other guests, seeking the blessings of the elders that were his father and your Aunt and Uncle. The occasion of your wedding threw many surprises at you— one, Namjoon smiled at you; second, he never let go of your hand as he guided you through the swarm of guests and introduced you to them.

Namjoon’s cordial behaviour kept surprising you every minute, not sure where the Namjoon from yesterday had gone. Soon, it was time for the reception dinner. While the guests left for the dinner hall, Namjoon held you back to meet his brothers/best friends who were very dear to him.

You smiled wide when you saw Yoongi and Suha coming towards you, followed by some more people who you assumed were Namjoon’s friends. The crowd hollered and cheered as they reached you both.

“Yoongi Hyung, you can't threaten me at my wedding.” Namjoon complained and you froze. Namjoon knew Yoongi? He was his hyung ? This new information created a storm in your head. The Said man walked to your side and patted your head and scowled at Namjoon while Suhaa giggled at your shocked reaction.

“Yoongi hyung threatened you?” Jungkook asked, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Yeah, I did. Y/n-ah is my sister now and I will break anyone's face who hurts her.” Namjoon sighs at hearing Yoongi’s threat again and you close your mouth from the shock of the scene happening in front of you. No wonder Namjoon had behaved well.

“Oppa, did you?” Yoongi didn't let you complete, he just squeezed your hand in reassurance.

“Don't worry about it, Y/n-ah. What matters is I'm going to be here for you and I’m going to keep this dumb ass of my brother in check.” Yoongi reassured you and that calmed you a bit but you still had so many questions unanswered. But this wasn't exactly the time to talk about it.

“Y/N, this is Jin, Taehyung, Jimin, Hobi, and Jungkook. These are my brothers and best friends, whatever you wanna call them. They're basically my everything.” Namjoon introduced everyone and you smiled politely at all of them while they greeted you.

The guys introduced their better halves one by one, Jin was married to Cha-Hee , while Hobi was married to Bong-Cha, Taehyung to Seungri and Jimin Mira, while Jungkook was dating Sarah. Everyone except Jungkook was married and Jin and Yoongi had kids.

The girls surrounded you quickly and introduced themselves, Except Suhaa the rest of them didn't know the in depth details of your marriage with Namjoon at least that's what you gathered from their talks, Not sure how much their partners had told them but you would wait for the right time for the conversation to pop up or worst case they already knew.

The men talked among themselves while the girls accompanied you to your room to do the regular touch up. You got a little brief about what the girls did, the general talk. You admired all of these women. They looked so confident and happy talking about themselves and their jobs and their kids.

Soon enough you were ushered out for the dinner and Namjoon led you again this time through the dinner, His hand firmly planted on your back.

____________________________________________________________

The entire car ride was silent, with Namjoon occasionally bouncing his leg while he looked out of the window and you did something similar. A lot of things were unsaid between you. His cordial and attentive behaviour today surprised you. Was he scared of you trying to harm yourself again? Did Yoongi tell him how you two met?

“We have one househelp in the house right now, two more of them will join from tomorrow.” Namjoon very randomly spoke and you wondered if this was his attempt to make a conversation. You nodded your head at him and he smiled. Again.

The car reached the building and before you could open the door, Namjoon asked you to wait and he got down and opened the door for you. Not only did he open the door for you but he also held out his hand for you to hold. Your mouth dropped open in surprise at his gesture. This day was literally filled with surprises. Just how much were you missing out on?

“Thank you.”

Namjoon nodded and placed a hand on your back and led you inside his private elevator at the penthouse. The door directly opened to his house and a middle aged woman stood at the door to greet you both.

“Y/n, this is Yeimei, Yeimei she's Y/n.” Namjoon introduced the woman and you assumed she must be the househelp that Namjoon was talking about.

“Namu, actually–”

Namu? This was new. Kim Namjoon had a nickname? It amused you to no end, but before you could react, Namjoon cut Yimei in the middle.

“Yeimei, we can talk later, you can go back to the mansion to get your stuff for now.” Namjoon instructed.

“But Namu–”

“Please.” The tone was enough for Yeimei to leave and you wondered what it was that she was trying to tell him. Putting a full stop to your curiosity, you decided to grab your bags and ask Namjoon about the living arrangement. But he beat you to it.

“You take the room upstairs and I'll take the one downstairs. My closet has already been set there. You can arrange the closet in your room your way or Yeimei will do it by default tommorow.”

“Okay, good night.” You pulled your bag with you upstairs while Namjoon retired to his room.

The corridor had two rooms. You opened the first and the nearest one.

As soon as you opened the door to your room, you knew exactly what Yeimei wanted to say. The room was totally empty. There was no bed, no wardrobe. Just another door which you assumed was the bathroom and a shelf in the corner with just pillows and a blanket. No mattress either. You quickly left your bag and went to open the second room to see if you had landed in the wrong room. But to your disappointment, it was empty too.

You sighed in irritation as you closed the door to your room. Tiredness had already begun seeping in and the four inch heels had already punched your spine and kicked your legs. You opened your bag to take the toiletries and your nightsuit out to prepare for a shower. The rest could be figured out after a warm bath.

“Holy fucking shit.” You cursed as the cold water touched your skin, This was the last way by which you wanted your day to end. Seeing no other option, you continued standing under the cold shower, while every drop of the cold water touching your skin reminded you of your hot tub back home.

You punched the hot water settings on the shower panel, why even put it there if it wouldn't function. But something clicked in your mind and you took a look at your surroundings. A bathroom that didn't have hot water, a bedroom that didn't have a bed or a wardrobe, or even a mattress in the least.

Was this the hell Namjoon was talking about? To deprive you of basic living necessities in a god forsaken penthouse? Your mind ran in circles as one part of your brain decided to doubt Namjoon, while the other one defended him. He wouldn't do such a thing.

Would he?

You decided to put your mind to rest. You could figure it out with Yeimei tomorrow. Worst case scenario, you would buy the bed and wardrobe tomorrow and Namjoon could straight go to hell. For now, you needed to rest. The floor screamed a warning in your face, cold and hard.

You decided to occupy the sofa in the living room tonight.

You threw the blanket and the pillow on the sofa and jumped right in, only to be disappointed in a matter of a few seconds. It was hard. Softer than the floor but a hundred times harder than a mattress. Waking Namjoon wasn't an option you would consider even in death, forget when you were uncomfortable.

You put the three pillows, one under your head and two by your sides and tried to sleep, but no matter how hard you tried, sleep ended up showing a middle finger. Maybe it was the new place or the hard ass sofa, but it didn't matter. The end result was that you couldn't sleep.

You groaned in frustration and let out a muffled scream in your pillow, nothing was helping. After what seemed like a thousand years, you slowly started feeling drowsy. You moved a little to the right and before you could realise you were off balance, you let out a scream as soon as your ass landed on the floor and immediately a sound of something falling and a curse followed.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n.” Namjoon stood there rooted to the floor with a vase in hand and a bottle right on the floor in front of him.

You sat up and threw the pillow and the blanket on the sofa and got up. Just how many times were you allowed to embarrass yourself in front of this man. Majority of the time Namjoon was in front of you, you royally made friends with the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing here? And why aren't you sleeping in your room?” Namjoon looked at you like you were a crazy person let loose,eEither this man was a great actor or he was clueless as fuck.

“There is nothing to sleep in there.” You stated plainly as you kept rearranging the pillows and the blankets to your liking.

“What do you mean there is nothing to sleep in there?”

“There is no bed, no mattress or even hot water in that room.” Namjoon choked on air and immediately made a beeline towards the stairs and went up the stairs in a flash.

You huffed, ss if you would lie and get your ass on fire. No, thank you.

A few moments later Namjoon rushed back down and you sat up straight. He looked confused and somewhat irritated. You cowered at the similar sight that his face was beginning to show and you just prayed you weren't going to be the centre of it.

“I am so sorry, Y/n. I don't know how the hell this happened.” Namjoon apologised and you felt the world literally shifting on its axis. Was this man apologising? Where the hell did Namjoon from yesterday go?

“It's okay, I guess.”

“Take those pillows and the blankets and come inside.”

“You won’t fit on the couch here.” Namjoon burst out laughing at your sentence, and you double checked if you were seeing things. Going by his reactions since the first time you guys had met, the guy did not demonstrate any normal emotions and suddenly he was apologising, behaving cordially and even laughing? There was only one explanation that made sense to you, Yoongi.

Exactly how dangerous was Yoongi?

“Just come inside already.” Namjoon picked up the blanket and the pillows and you followed behind. Namjoon’s room was definitely much better, much grander than the room that was upstairs. The master bedroom.

“Wait here.” Namjoon threw the pillows on the bed and handed the blanket over to you. You stood there with the blanket in your hand and wondered what was up with him. Namjooon returned with pillows enough to build a fort and your eyes widened in shock. Were you supposed to place these pillows on the floor and sleep on them or was he going to sleep on them?

“Give me a minute.” Namjoon placed a line of pillows exactly in the middle and layered the pillows one on another. You were confused. Why was this man making a whole barricade on the bed?

“What is this?” Namjoon laughed at your confused expression and took your blanket and threw it on the left side as he scooted over to the right side.

“That's your side, and this is my side. Two rules. No throwing hands and no crossing the barricade.” Namjoon explained the rules and you looked twice at him, confused whether he was the same person. This man was more complex than a spacecraft and had a hundred shades to him.

“Okay.”

“Good. Now come on over here. Don't just stand there.” Namjoon quickly switched the lights off without waiting for you to get on the bed and you cursed at your luck.

Couldn't this man wait for two more seconds?

Your luck definitely hated you. You tripped over the blanket and landed on your ass, again! A sound of pain left your mouth before you could realise and the lights were switched on once again. Namjoon sat up with his mouth shaped in an ‘o’ and you groaned and got up cursing every star and step that led to your fall.

“Are you generally clumsy or is this a special feature that's enabled whenever I am around?” You rolled your eyes at his comment and quickly settled in. Namjoon turned to your side and contemplated something for a second but spoke it nevertheless.

“Next time you roll your eyes at me, you can go back to sleep on the floor or the couch. Your choice.” The lights were switched off and you stared at the ceiling. This was strange. You weren't used to sleeping next to someone and suddenly someone breathing so close near you gave you the jitters. Namjoon must have been facing the same problem as well, because the man had tossed and turned nearly ten times in the span of a few minutes.

“Sorry. Not used to sleeping next to someone.” You sighed at his apology. The barricade was engineered to hide your faces and you strangely felt thankful for that.

“Same.” You muttered quietly and you heard another shuffle followed by a nervous clearing of his throat. You turned to your side, facing Namjoon and he cleared his throat again. Was he trying to say something?

“Tossing and turning isn't the only thing I need to apologise for.”

You were stunned to say the least. This conversation was still a little far in your mind. You had no idea when you were going to bring up this conversation. There were a lot of empty gaps in there and you needed to fill those in. Taking your silence as a go ahead, Namjoon continued.

“Look, I'm sorry I was a dick, and didn't listen to you, but Yoongi hyung punched some sense into me. I was angry at everything and you happened to be the centre of it. But I should have talked to you about it when you had come to the Country Club that day.”

Your ears perked up at the mention of the Country Club. Had he been there? You were about to ask him but he beat you to it.

“I was there at the Country Club, I was sitting at the bar and Yoongi hyung and Jin hyung watched you for me. And that's how Yoongi hyung recognized you.” You were shocked to say the least. How much were you missing out on?

“Was a dick move, I know. Sorry. But just know Yoongi Hyung will break my face if I hurt you.” Thrice in three minutes? That was a record.

“Can I be honest?”

“Hmm.” That was all you could manage as the truth came to light one by one. No you weren't mad. If Yoongi had not seen you that day, he wouldn't have recognized you, and by now, you'd probably have bid goodbye to the world. You were thankful for that. And besides, he had promised you.

He was here for you now. That's all that mattered.

“Is it weird that I don't know what to expect from this marriage? Or if I don't know if I want to keep this marriage alive?” You got him on this point, you didn't know either. You and Namjoon met under weird circumstances, were in a similar situation, similar predicament. But was that enough to stay with each other for the rest of your lives?

“I don't know either.” Namjoon heaved a sigh of relief next to you and you smiled. First thing that you both had in common.

“We don't know where this is going to take us, but yes, I want to promise you one thing until this gets sorted out. I'll keep myself in check and let's try to be civil, okay?”

“I'll stay out of your way.”

“That's not what I meant. Look, we don't have to avoid each other. If we are going to be staying in a house, then the least we could do is be friends.” You agreed somewhat to his suggestion, but you weren't exactly sure what kind of friend Namjoon would be. But again, what did you have to lose?

“Okay.” You let out the breath you didn’t realise you were holding and Namjoon did the same, at Least that's what you thought.

“And Y/n, I would never have done what I did that day if I knew it would impact you in such a way. I don't know if I could have lived with myself if something happened to you. I am sorry. Next time I'm going overboard, which I won't but even if you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, slap me.” Namjoon’s last words left you dumbfounded, did he just ask you to slap him if he was being rude?

“What?”

“You heard me.” Namjoon stated firmly and you nodded your head in the dark. You were eternally thankful for the lights to be off.

“Okay, but I can't slap you.”

“You're too good for your own good.”

“That’s–”

“Okay, that's enough talk for one night. Good night Y/n.”

“Goodnight.” You turned to the opposite side and a small smile graced your face.

Namjoon wasn't a bad person. Maybe until you figured things out, life with Namjoon could be bearable.

____________________________________________________________

You woke up to the sounds of a vacuum in the house. Confused, you sat up and looked around, baffled at the new surroundings. You saw the ring on your finger and realised where you were.

The sound of the vacuum stopped and you rubbed your eyes. Yeimei’s face appeared at the door and a knock followed. She walked in the room cautiously, but you smiled at her and she visibly relaxed.

“Good Morning, Ajumoni.” Yeimei smiled a delightful smile at your reference of the term ‘ajumoni’ and you rubbed your hands over your face. Yeimei began tidying up Namjoons side and you moved to your room to fetch your toiletries to freshen up. There was no way that you would be able to have another cold shower and stay alive.

The delicious smell of doenjang jjigae greeted your nostrils as you stepped down in the hall.

“Come have a seat, Bu-in.” Yeimei placed a steaming hot bowl of stew in front of you, and your stomach immediately growled in appreciation. Yeimei laughed at your reaction, and you smiled sheepishly.

“Eat up.” She placed the spoon beside your bowl and you sheepishly dug in.

“You can call me Y/n, Ajumoni.”

“Are you sure?’’

“Absolutely.” Yeimei nodded and got back to her cleaning tasks again. You finished the stew and the side dishes and moved back to your room upstairs to curb the hurricane that you had bought over yesterday while you looked for clothes to change in.

"I'll do it." Yeimei stood at the door with her dusting pin and a mop. You debated whether to ask her why these rooms were kept empty but decided to take a chance.

"Why are these rooms empty? Like even guest rooms have beds right?" Yeimei put down her dusting tools and began folding clothes along with you. You looked at her to see any signs of not answering the question but all she had on her face was a blank look.

"Sajang-nim ordered us to do so. The beds and the wardrobes were taken out yesterday."

"That’s-"

"Very strange, I know. But things between Namu and Sajang-nim have always been strange. It just got worse after Chaeyeong died."

"Chaeyeong?" You had never heard this name before.

"Namu’s mother. I came here to Seoul as a part of her staff when she got married. But we go way back. We have been together since we were little girls. My mother worked for her mother and since we lived there together, we became good friends despite the class difference." Yeimei smiled a small smile and shut your bag. You gaped at the speed of the woman. She had already arranged your clothes and stuff while she was talking.

There were a lot of things that you still had to understand, a lot of things that you still had to know. But this was a start. Things would definitely go smoother if you know where to draw the line.

From what you understood, Namjoon's father was a touchy topic and you needed to steer clear of that in front of Namjoon until he spoke about it to you.

"You will understand things better, don't worry about it, just give it time. You both need time to adjust to this." Yeimei patted your back lightly and you nodded.

Time was exactly what you needed.

The doorbell rang and Yeimei got up quickly to attend to the door. You pulled the bags to the corner and placed them neatly beside the shelf. There was a very high probability that you would be the one who would trip over these.

"Y/n, your friends are here."

"My friends? As in mine?" You did a double check. Since when did you have friends? You walked down the hall when the loud voices fell on your ears and you recognised one immediately. Suhaa.

Seungri, Mira, Sarah, Cha-Hee, Suhaa, and Bong-Cha. The 'girl gang' as Suhaa had introduced them in your wedding,were here. You greeted them with a smile on your face.

"Hey there bride." Cha-Hee (Jin's wife) quickly got up from the couch to hug you last and somehow the scene in front of you felt nice.

"How are you all doing?" The girls began to speak at once, leaving you struggling to understand what even one of them said.

The chatter died down as soon as Yeimei brought in the tea and snacks and you thanked her. She served the tea and smiled at you and the rest of them, and made her way upstairs.

"So tell us, where are you guys going for your honeymoon?" You choked on your tea as soon as you heard the word 'honeymoon'. You were blank, absolutely blank.

"Actually, Joon's a little busy, so he hasn't been planning, I guess." Suhaa immediately diverted the conversation and you had never been more thankful.

"Me and Jimin left the same day you know, we woke up the next day in Hawaii."

"Oh please Mira, everyone knew at the reception how eager you horn dogs were to get away." Seungri teased Mira who just scowled at her, making everyone else laugh.

"Says the one who has the biggest record of doing the wildest things at the wildest places."

"Hey! " You laughed hard watching Seungri and Mira's interaction. You had actually never known how it felt to have friends who were utter chaos and felt so wholesome to have.

"Get used to this craziness Y/n-ie, you're a part of it now."

"Thank you. I know all of you are busy, so thank you for taking time out to come see me." You thanked all of them but they just looked at you and shrugged their shoulders.

"Nonsense, Y/n-ie, you're a part of us now. We will always have time for you now." Suhaa linked her arm with yours and smiled the biggest smile.

The girls bickered on and about everything— their homes, their jobs, you participated in some of their conversations, and you admired these intelligent women. They were married to powerful men, but that only added to their identities, their husbands didn't become their entire identity.

Cha-Hee ran her own business for textile, Suhaa had her chain of hotels that she took over from her father. Seungri had her own chain of restaurants and Bong-Cha owned a dance school while Sarah was launching her own fashion line and Mira was big on her real estate business.

You unknowingly had been added to this group of such accomplished women, you were still nowhere on the level that they were and you still didn't have any idea what you were going to do with your life, If only you could do something with your life too. You had too many things to figure out. You had a lot of time on your hands now that you were breathing freely. Your Uncle and Aunt always shot down your wishes of working, even in your own company.

With the girls around you never noticed how noon came by and soon the girls left to go about their own days, while you returned back to the only thing you had to do. Spend time on your phone.

___________________________________________________________

Namjoon got up earlier than you and decided to leave for work before you woke up. Yesterday's conversation weighed heavily on his mind. He had a lot of questions in his mind but at the end of the day, he was glad you two were on the same page.

Namjoon walked down to Yeimei making breakfast for him, and he greeted the older woman. She smiled her usual warm smile which brightened up most of his days. Yeimei was like a mother to him, she had been here when his mother was married off to the Kim household and she was there when he was born. Yeimei was the only person who understood him when his mother died. His own father had gone back to work after a week, not even trying to console his own son.

His mother was always the bridge between his father and him. His father always had such unrealistic expectations from him. Namjoon was the smartest student. He excelled at everything he did, never took his privileges lightly, made use of them perfectly to gain the best access to everything and make himself capable. But somehow it was never enough for his father. He was useless, that's what his father kept telling him.

His mother was a very sweet and a very talented artist, who instilled the love for arts in him and he was more than thankful for it. His father never liked his mother's career choice, always putting it under the bar, saying it isn't what the Kim's daughter-in-law was supposed to do. His mother rebelled for her passion and in the end, his father stopped bothering her and she used it to her advantage.

He liked the fact that his mother had always taken her passion seriously and fought for it. He knew his mother to be a strong woman— a woman who fought for what she believed and fought for what she loved. He grew up watching a strong woman, hence he had a hell lot of problems with the way his father described you.

Namjoon's mother fought tooth and nail with her husband when it came to him not celebrating such an amazing son, for always putting him down. She believed in him entirely and she made sure he knew it too. Namjoon lost his mother when he was fifteen and the only bridge between him and his father was broken forever.

Yeimei took up the responsibility of Namjoon after his mothers death. She had become his only support in the house. She never went back to her hometown after his mothers death and continued to work at the Kim Mansion. She was just like a mother to him.

“Good Morning, Namu.” Yeimei smiled at him and he shot her his full dimple smile. It was a good start to the day. She served him his favourite and his face broke out into another smile. Yeimei somehow always knew what he wanted to eat.

“What happened to the rooms upstairs?”

“Sajang-nim got them removed.” Namjoon paused eating at the mention of his father. He should have known. It would be his father. What was this man planning?

Namjoon wasn't a kid that he didn't know that this was done by his father to make sure they sleep in the same bed and no other option would be available since Namjoon had clearly voiced out his displeasure on multiple occasions.

But why would he need to do something of this sort was still unclear to him. The old man was upto some funny business again and he would definitely find out.

“Sajangnim has put two other maids here. They will arrive here in the evening.” Namjoon scoffed at the mention. He had put maids here? If he knew his father even a little, then those were spies to know the in-and-outs of his house and his and yours relationship.

“Yeimei, can you do something for me?”

“Should I refuse them?” Namjoon smirked at her response, That's exactly what he wanted to say.

“Tell Appa to talk to me if he has any problems.” Namjoon finished his breakfast and got up, ready to leave. He drove to his office, trying to figure out what his father was upto.

Something was definitely up.

The day continued normally for Namjoon until he found a vendor that he had blacklisted and to top it off, the vendor was approved by his father. He hated when his father double crossed him under the pretext of 'you know nothing and need to learn to tame the wolves'. Namjoon dialled his father on the intercom, waiting for him to receive the call. He picked up a few rings later.

“Appa, I need to talk to you.” Namjoon didn't wait for his father to respond, but he was shocked to hear his father speaking on the other end. Did he pick it up by mistake? But the next words caught his attention.

‘’Hyunwoo, you need to chill. Lets execute this properly. I am sure it can be easily done. Two years is enough time for them to get acquainted as husband and wife. If they have a kid, then consider the job done.” Namjoon strained his ears to the receiver as soon as the words 'husband and wife' reached his ears.

Another irritated voice reached his ears which he assumed must be your Uncle. Namjoon wondered if they were arguing.

“Jun-Seon-ah, we have to make sure that Y/n signs off the company to her husband. This is the only way we can all benefit from this deal. The only reason I got Y/n married to Namjoon was so that when she's twenty seven, she can sign off the company over to Namjoon and we can merge Digitron Systems and Kim Inc. and I and Joo-Won could be on the board for the new entity.”

Namjoon’s blood turned cold at the information. What exactly were these people upto?

“Don't worry, Hyunwoo-ah. That brat of mine will do as I say if he wants to be the CEO of this company. Everything will be according to the plan. Those two have two years. It is enough for Y/n to trust Namjoon and give her company to him when the time comes.” His father's voice burned holes in his heart.

Was this man so cruel that he had the heart to conspire against someone like that? No wonder he wanted him to marry Y/n, hook or by crook. Was this what he meant when he said he was giving him the legacy of Digitron Systems?

“If only my brother hadn't made such provisions in that damn will. When did he have the time to do that? You said Namjoon didn't want to marry that doormat. Would he still stay married to her after the signing?”

“The way he has been acting since the past few days, I'm not sure. Good if he stays married to her. If not, then it's okay too. We would have already had what we wanted from Y/n.Who cares if he throws her out after that.”

“I'm not taking that woman back.”

“Don't then.”

“I still have to figure out where those papers of the mansion are. Once I have it, she can die for all I care.”

“Relax Hyunwoo, we have two years for the result. And dont worry I've made provisions for them to live with each other. Things will go our way.” Namjoon slammed the intercom receiver on the table, His head was already spinning with all the information. How long had these people been planning to do all this? Was he a pawn in all of this?

What kind of people were they? They were ready to destroy someone's life like a house of cards? Was doing bad things so easy? Namjoon definitely didn't want any part of this. Namjoon was a dick to you, but he had never thought of conspiring against you or to ruin your life. Most of his anger was his projection of him being a coward.

There was one thing for sure, Namjoon had lost all the respect for his father. What kind of a man did he have for a father. Namjoon shut his laptop and reached for his phone. He had to get home now, and more importantly, he had to let you know what kind of demons you had for relatives.

As soon as Namjoon left his cabin, his father and Hyunwoo came out of his fathers cabin too and it took every ounce of strength to not charge at the two of them, even his father. He had a strong urge to break Hyunwoo’s face into two. No wonder they had raised Y/n like this. Poor girl never knew what it must have felt to revolt against these people.

“Namjoon-ah, how are you doing?” Namjoons face blackened at your Uncle's voice and he just nodded his head and moved past the two older men.

He was definitely going to tell you the truth, even if it meant you would hate him for it.

____________________________________________________________

You finished lunch and helped Yeimei clean the kitchen when Namjoon barged in the house, startling both of you.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you. Room. Now.” Your feet stayed rooted to the floor. You had never seen him so mad. You definitely had seen him mad but this was another level of mad. YeiMmmei nudged you gently and you understood it was her way of telling you to go.

“Don't worry, he won't hurt you.” Yeimei tried to reassure you.

You nodded and made your way to Namjoon's bedroom. He was already pacing around the room like a whirlwind and you took a step back. What exactly did you do now?

“Come here, Y/n.”

“Is anything wrong?” The last words came out as a squeak and Namjoon paused for a second. He gave you an apologetic look and pulled the chair from the table to take a seat in front of you.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully alright?” His words confused you even further. Was he divorcing you? Did something happen?

“Yeah.” You barely managed a response, a thousand questions plaguing your mind.

Namjoon narrated the entire incident where he heard his father and your Uncle talking, and anger coursed through your veins. What had you ever done to those people? You behaved the way they wanted, did what they said, you had even gone and married a stranger because they said so.

A tear slipped as Namjoon kept speaking, your mind turned numb. You knew they hated you, but what they didn't know was they hated you enough to ruin your life? A conspiracy so big? They wanted to strip you of what was yours. You had never thought of taking over the company, not even once.

Namjoon took your hands in his and looked at you desperately, trying to convey his emotions.

“Y/n, I want you to know that I play no part in this. I swear on my mother.” You patted his hand and gave a small, watery smile, Why would he come and tell you this if he had a part in it?

You wiped your tears hastily. There was no room for any argument. You knew exactly what you needed to do. You had enough of these demons. You were definitely going to take back what was yours. No matter how long it took, you would take it back and Digitron Systems would be in the hands of a rightful Min again.

“What do you want to do now?” Namjoons question brought you back to reality and you looked at him with eyes full of determination.

“What do you think I should do?”

“For what they are planning, I would say destroy them. My father will automatically lose it when the Mins are down. They are nothing without the Digitron Systems.” Namjoon looked you dead in the eye and you smiled. You knew exactly who you could ask for help.

“Then, let's do that.” Namjoon smirked at your reaction.

“This is going to be a long journey, Y/N, and it's definitely not easy. And the only way to solve this is if you take over Digitron Systems. As you rightfully should have.”

“Will you help me?” You hoped he would say yes. You had no idea what you were supposed to do if Namjoon didn't want a part in your mess.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

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pigeonriot · 3 years ago

Note

Please be a bit more specific about Bernd das Brot being a Horror Movie concept??

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON (also sorry it took me literal weeks to answer this ask it got lost in my drafts sorry <3 it is now almost 1am and i feel the need to answer this RIGHT NOW so if anything is incoherent i'm sorry its bc i need to go to bed <3)

okay, so, I don't know how much background information you have on Bernd, so I'm just gonna assume zero. He is character of German's children television channel KiKa.

first of all, pls read this character description wikipedia made with the fact that Bernd is a character made for children in mind:

do not ask any child that has grown up with seeing Bernd on TV if they are okay. We are not. But that doesn't qualify the concept of Bernd das Brot as a horror movie yet, it is just an,,, let's call it interesting (aslo very relatable) choice for a characterization for a childrens TV character).

What I was particularily talking about when i called it that was Die Nachtschleife - the night loop.

The night loop is shown on Kika between 9pm and 6am every day. During that time, the channel is not broadcasting any particular content except a looped 7-25min long clip throughout the whole night. And the most prominent character in this loop: you guessed it, BERND! our beloved depressed loaf of bread <3

Where it enters horror genre is that the general plot of every loop is that Bernd gets dropped into an empty, white room against his will. He is getting manhandled by a robotic arm and a disembodied computer voice called "Weißbox Master Control Programm" ("white box master control programm") is the only one talking to Bernd - and it is also talking to the audience, it's kind of like the moderator of the whole thing. The voice is then requesting Bernd to do several things for the audience, which Bernd doesn't want to do. All Bernd wants to do is escape the room but he never manages to do it and always gets dragged back etc and at the end of the loop, it always seems like Bernd manages to escape somehow just for the clip to end there and the loop beginning from the start where Bernd is dropped in the white void again.

So this loop continues thru the whole night, getting shown on the childrens channel, and it's just a depressed loaf of bread who hates his life being forced to be in a room and not being able to leave in any way and stuck in a loop, being forced to be in front of the tv viewers (the 4th wall basically doesnt exist, bernd openly talks to the audience how he has enough of television and how viewers should turn off the tv etc). Bernd is held against his will, forced to do (often for him humiliating) stuff, tries to escape for the whole night and never manages to do it, his hope of escaping always squashed when thebloop stsrts again, stuck in a loop, has a disembodied voice telling him what to do and a robotic arm moving him w/o his will and it is intended to be mainly seen by children (even tho the night loop - in bernds case bernd - is constantly telling the viewer to turn the tv off). THEY PUT SOMEONE W DEPRESSION THRU ALL THIS UGHHHH LEAVE HIM ALONE STOP TORTURING HIMMMM

there is more to expand on but this is all i have at 1am and if anyone says its not a horror concept they are wrong <3

also, kinda unrelated but bernd is a trans king <3

#and dare i say... i watched the shit out of it when i was 6 and woke up before my parents and it was before 6am so i just sat in front of #the tv watching Nachschleife and bernd suffering #anyways i love bernd <3 #bernd das brot #kika #german stuff #anon #asks #ask

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absolutelyfizzing · 4 years ago

Text

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

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criminalmindsgonewrong · 3 years ago

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watching The Tigger Movie with faby:

me: "why is he so little? pigs are huge?" faby: "HE'S A LET. A PIG. LET."

"OMG i get it! KANGA ROO! i never put it together until now"

"tigger is my favourite he's so bouncy and so excited to live"

"now this motherfucker is annoying" (about rabbit)

"nah he ate with this technique" (about tigger's bouncing)

"(kanga) is such a milf"

"i would be that motherfucker (piglet) in this world. that's how short i am"

"you guys are so mean to tigger"

(about owl) "it's giving rossi"

*tigger puts 100 ice cubes into his tea* "me in england for the first time"

"here's the thing though. if they're all tiggers, what's his name? it's like if my name was human."

"he literally fucking steals from the bees what a fucking capitalist"

"why didn't they sting him ok plot armour"

"i wish my bed was hexagonal"

"oh he has seasonal depression maybe i should send him the twitter thread"

"omg this cured my depression."

***imagine everything from this point onwards through tears***

"omg he made a cake. he's so excited"

"i hate this movie"

"okay shakespeare"

"they're dressed like tiggers and you're looking at stuffed animals?"

"stop i literally cannot watch this."

"who came up with this plot i just wanna talk"

"no there's a storm don't go outside!"

tigger: "ttfe. tata for ever" faby, through tears: "noooo not forever forever is one word bestie"

pooh: "poor tigger all alone in the cold" faby: "and you guys aren't even fucking looking for him he could be fucking dying of frostbite"

"why is the child the only one doing anything he's literally three years old"

"why did you make me watch this"

"why are you staring at me? because i'm crying?"

"can you tell i have family issues"

"i love how he thinks families live in a tree, like a family tree. that's so cute"

*fully sobbing* "no he's crying. no. i'm gonna kill myself"

"where is roos mom? she's never there. she lets him go off and do things like be in an avalanche by himself. i love how all of them just let him go..."

"bouncing besties"

"ok slay obstacle course. 10/10"

"omg my head hurts from all of the crying"

"as if he could die he's a stuffed animal"

tigger: "you fellas are my family?" faby: "yes bitch thats the whole point of the movie"

*about roo* "he wants a gift too bitch (tigger) like where is his gift"

"ITS THE LOCKET I KNEW IT"

"no i cant watch the credits i cant"

"that was emotionally exhausting but in a good way. in a fulfilling way"

cry count: it was pretty constant tbh x

@lil-koala i love you <3

#faby watched disney movies #faby baby #watchparty #just wait until i make her watch winnie the poohs most grand afventure

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thechroniclesofahotgirl · 2 years ago

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The Chronicles of a Hot Girl pt 1. Mercury is in the microwave.

It was an unseasonably hot April night. Mercury was about to be in the microwave, and I was on one.

See, I had been on and off with the same emotionally unavailable person since mid-2021. He was initially just the rebound.

The trouble is I was really going through it in 2021. To the credit of this situationship, we had really great sex, and I know that the way he hurts people isn't intentional. The problem is the way he hurts people is addictive to someone like me.

These chronicles, though, are not about him and me. These here chronicles begin with a Friday night. It was a revenge dress, hold a roster draft, not give a fuck kinda Friday night in Ybor City.

"As it should be."

A few friends of mine got together to see where the night might take us. So through the back gate of the karaoke bar, we slipped in. I signed up for Fall Out Boy's 'Sugar We're going down." We all know I killed it because I am also a very talented girl in addition to being a Hot Girl.

It was like I blinked, and then somehow, the group had made it to the patio of the karaoke bar where the owner was sitting atop the bar, and the bartender was shirtless, pouring a mystery blue liquor down our throats.

With that, I made haste to return to the sanctuary that was my Boss's condo a few blocks over. On the way back, my girlfriend and I popped into an Irish Pub for a little break and a pee.

It was there that the beginning of our roster for this illustrious Hot Girl Summer took down its first name.

We will call him Young Short Orlando Bloom for the sake of this here practice. He had his dark curly hair in a half-up half-down man bun that looked like what the guy who cheated on me in 2021 thought his hair looked like. His shirt was a little oversized, the same way the costumes in the Pirates of the Caribbean did, but it looked more like a sweater.

He and I made eye contact a few times before he approached my friend and me. We took shots, and I got his number. We texted a few times, but mostly just on the weekend. Our paths have yet to cross again.

I had been working all day the following night and just wanted to blow off some steam. I made the mistake of messaging B again, having yet to learn my lesson from 2 nights before, 4 months before, or in the year and a half before that.

For the first time, he was adamantly not interested in seeing me that night.

"Smash cut."

His call rolled around at 3 am as the witching hour does. He only had 3 % battery and would be waiting for me outside the bar I worked at.

Not quite ready to let go, I acquiesced. Got out of bed, put on a cute crop top, and drove the 11 minutes through the vacant streets. When I found him, he was right where he said he would be. I tried not to literally run to him. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but how he scooped me up in his arms felt like he missed me too.

When we returned to his house (the one I have the code to get into, but whatever, I guess), I couldn't help but snuggle on his chest, half awake. I could feel him staring a hole into my face while fighting, and losing, the urge to put popcorn in my nose and ears.

We went to sleep like nothing wrong had ever happened between us.

I woke up the following day like we always did. The sunlight beamed through the windows around the room, illuminating a mess of clothes achieved only by someone experiencing burnout or depression. (I say this from personal experience.) But from the bed, I couldn't really see it. One of his kittens would join us to let us know the day was ready to begin. We cuddled some more. Had sex. Then I went home. That was the last time I talked to him. He is blocked again for now.

While I was there, though, there was one different thing. I woke up to a message from an unknown number. It was a gentleman caller who wanted to make me a passenger princess. In B's bed, though, I replied

"Those are some magical words you're putting together."

This brings us to our next name claimed by an already quickly fleeting roster. We can call him the Really Respectful Driver. When I had dubbed him as such, I didn't realize the irony of the name. He decided last minute before our pizza and sunset date on the beach (I am not kidding, 100% his idea) that he was too tired.

I forgave him but made plans with another guy friend because I'll be damned if I planned on getting dressed and was now wasting a perfectly cute outfit.

The really respectful driver had messaged me something about liking mystery, and I remember saying to my friend.

"Yes, the mystery of if I'll give you another shot after this."

Anyway, as I sat at a bar overlooking downtown and the river, I sipped Carmel Espresso Martinis with a guy friend of mine. We had worked together back in 2020 at the same bar in the combination college and million-dollar mansion area of town. He was cute but had made out with a friend of mine. Also, he is about 4 years younger than me, and it feels weird to think of him as anything other than a friend.

At that bar, though, while simultaneously wreaking havoc on a group of guys giving their friend a hard time for ordering a bud light (you know, because Bud Light had a partnership with a young up-and-coming internet personality known for her journey in the Trans community) I managed to catch the eye of a pretty blonde bartender who had accidentally cut her hand open on broken glass.

I wasn't sure then, but I figured she was probably gay and tried to shoot my shot. You, as the reader, need to understand that I am out of the closet to almost everyone but my family. I also haven't had nearly as much experience in that bracket either. All this to say that with women, It could be a 50/50 shot on how smoothly the words might come out of my mouth. Or better yet, my favorite move, run away after you ask them out without getting any of their contact information.

I walked out of that bar with my friend that night, wondering if I had given her the same vaguely interested vibe she had given me.

A little phone notification was all it took to confirm that suspicion. The really pretty bartender found my Instagram account after I had posted the martinis my friend and I had gotten and tagged the bar. She led with something cute about liking girls to toast marshmallows. She nailed it, honestly.

So another name goes down on the roster.

That brought us to yet another weekend. A time when the city I love comes to life, and I take refuge in the karaoke scene.

This second weekend. Well, Mercury was defiantly in the fucking microwave. HOLY SHIT. Mercury retrograde is marked by a period in our lives where communication breaks down, technology takes a crap, and unresolved issues rise to the surface.

Being a Hot Girl comes with its own… special issues. I remember the first time I was pinned to a doorway in a back building during my freshman year of high school. I was 14, and a pattern was blossoming. Each year I grew more into my body and personality and seemed to attract a vile kind of human. One that would pin me down, drag around my limp and unconscious body, and quite literally have their way with me.

I am 26 now, and my most recent experience with this (depending on your feelings about coercion and how it applies to consent) was a year ago, almost to the day as I wrote these words here.

A man who works security at a bar I used to work at decided on a random April 27th, in the middle of the military bar, to grab my face from behind, forcing his gross non-consensual tongue down my throat. I looked to the friend I was out with for support, something to let me know that what had happened had actually happened. That my disgust and feelings of violation were valid.

Well, he happened to have his back turned, and with that information, I went crying to the patio of that bar. The bartenders of this particular establishment were no stagers to my ability to emote in public. They asked me if there was anything they could do, but knowing how my experiences in the past with reporting this sort of thing, I opted to drink the memory of him inside my mouth away as quickly as I could.

Looking back, I wish I had asked the manager for the security tape. They had since changed their camera systems and could no longer access that time.

If I have lost you a bit in this flashback, allow me to bring you back to real-time.

I spent the better part of the last year avoiding this person. I would cross the street to avoid walking where he could reach me from his post in front of the karaoke bar. So when I started visiting the karaoke bar again in early March, I asked one of the managers to just let me in through the back or walk in through the front with me, so I wouldn't have to interact with him.

That worked for about a month and a half. You see, the bar manager at this point also happened to be this person's girlfriend. After a hand full of visits, including the most recent one with the owner, the girlfriend was dying to ask me what the deal was. So she took her opportunity on this second Saturday of Mercury in the microwave.

I had been asked out onto the patio of this karaoke bar before. It felt like revisiting an old crime scene, a betrayal that this story need not concern itself.

I knew she was bringing me back to ask about the situation. I had decided a few nights before that I'd tell her the truth if she asked. My reputation had already been dragged through the mud once before, and I knew the truth no matter how she might take it.

After giving her my full recount of the details, she informed me that she would "do some digging of her own."

I returned to the main bar to grab my friend as I felt a panic attack swelling. I knew I had maybe 30 seconds before the air in my lungs would give, and my tear duct damns broke.

The wild thing about my specific brand of trauma is that, at the moment, I'm riding the adrenaline. As soon as that moment is over, I crumple up like a piece of paper and hyperventilate.

Between two dumpsters, my legs gave out, and I had a kind of panic attack that makes you nonverbal. I was trying to explain what happened to my friend in between sobs and gasps for air.

After some time, we walked to my car so I could clean myself up and explain my predicament to my friend. Once I had fixed my mascara and the foundation around my eyes, we made our way back to the bar where the rest of our friends had been waiting.

When we walked up, we were greeted by the same ugly Lorax-looking mother fucker telling us I was banned.

Funny.

So my friend went in and gathered up our group. We made a break for the only other bar that did karaoke on Saturday nights.

Where I had 2 more panic attacks.

The anger I felt put my whole body on pins and needles. Suddenly I was 14 again.

"We're sorry, but there were no cameras on that door in that hallway."

"No, a threatening voicemail is not enough proof."

14 years old, learning about the burden of proof because the burden is on the victim.

My only proof was the visceral reaction to being asked to recount that moment, and a screenshot of me telling my friend about the experience I had April 27th.

My whole friend group tried hard the rest of that night to get us "back on track with a great night."

I did too. I sang one of my favorite songs to sing. I tried drinking a beer. I tried talking to people about my big show on the horizon.

It was too late. The emotional hangover of 3 panic attacks in public was setting in, and I just wanted to stare at a wall in my enclosure.

The bar owner there visited me the next day at my job to get my side of things. She admitted that she had fired this particular employee once for being creepy. Too bad it hadn't stuck. It might have saved me a couple panic attacks.

Unresolved issues were coming to the surface. A staple of Mercury in retrograde.

As a Hot Girl trying to live her Hot Girl Life, I would have preferred an ex texting me at 3 am, but I guess I wouldn't have grown or learned from that.

That night I asked Mr. Respectful Driver if he was still open to going out again. He said he was. We made plans.

This brings us to now. Mr. Respectful Driver has, in fact, stood me up. Wasting yet another super cute outfit. Well, maybe not because I am going to another karaoke night. I'm new in a different part of town to sell tickets for my show.

He is not getting another chance. Another bites the dust.

Until next time, this has been week 1 in The Chronicles of a Hot Girl.

#thechroniclesofahotgirl #trauma #childhood trauma tw #dating #dating in 2023 #dating in your 20s #mercury retrograde #spiritual #spiritual growth #story time #tumblr stories #hot girl shit #sa recovery

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heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years ago

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Lepidoterophobia Prt. Three (Finale)

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: A couple of y’all asked real nice for kisses and you know what, that’s valid. Shinobu is such a tease though so she’s gonna make you work for it! Just not in the way you’d expect. It’s all fluff but get ready for some loving caresses and a massage at one point! It gets a little frisky, but nothing too explicit and sorry for the sub bottom energy but, come on, its Shinobu. I think this will be it for this little series. Thanks for liking it so much! <3 (Part One) (Part Two) Word Count: 4,977

(Y/n) had been recuperating within the Butterfly Estate for only two weeks before she felt as if she was about to lose her mind.

She still hadn’t been allowed to leave her bed. Only limited movement and changes in position to partake in very simple exercises and to avoid bed sores were permitted. What made it even more depressing was how the small movements would take the little energy she had right out of her. Then there was that disgusting medicine as well. (Y/n), quite literally, almost threw up the first time Aoi had given it to her. Aoi had scolded her good after that, going on about a special brewing process and rare ingredients; how Shinobu had worked tirelessly to make it for her.

Shinobu... Now, if (Y/n) had to assemble a list of reasons for the impending mental breakdown she felt coming on, Kochou Shinobu would be at the tippy top of that list.

She was an absolute tease! Lingering touches, no regard for personal space whatsoever. Then there was her downright devious way with words that could make (Y/n)’s skin heat intensely and her brain short circuit, leaving her completely out of commission for the rest of the day in some cases.

That was to be expected though, especially since this was Shinobu they were thinking about, and (Y/n) was fine with that. She wouldn’t want her any other way. However, despite all of the teasing, or because of all of the teasing rather, Shinobu and (Y/n) had yet to kiss, unless one counted nose and cheek kisses of course. There was no shortage of those sweet affections. And it wasn’t like (Y/n) hadn’t attempted on quite a few occasion to initiate a kiss herself, but her attempts had always been thwarted. If not by the sweet little girls of the estate interrupting the moment, then by Shinobu herself turning her head so (Y/n)’s lips would meet the soft skin of her cheek instead.

There were a few close instances, such as last night when Shinobu had come by to bid (Y/n) goodnight. She hovered over (Y/n)’s face, close enough that (Y/n) could feel the air leave Shinobu’s lips and wash over her own as she spoke. Unfortunately, (Y/n) had forgotten to actually pay attention to what Shinobu was saying, which led to more teasing.

After Shinobu had thoroughly roasted (Y/n), she delicately cupped the side of (Y/n)’s cheek, her cool and calloused thumb had skimmed over her lower lip, pulling it to the side slightly as Shinobu came closer still. Their noses brushed and (Y/n) almost forgot to breathe, her head muddled with the dizzying wisteria scent that clung to the other woman. (Y/n)’s eyes slid shut and her heart beat pounded in her ears. The feeling of Shinobu’s thumb as she made another pass over her lip was electric, fire, leaving a tingling feeling in its wake over the trembling flesh.

And then, a sweet yet chaste kiss to (Y/n)’s hairline and Shinobu rose back to her full height, an undisguised smirk and gleaming, mischievous eyes filled (Y/n)’s vision as her own eyes snapped open to look over the Hashira with a barely contained sense of betrayal. Shinobu’s pigeoned laughter rang in (Y/n)‘s ears for hours after the Hashira had retired to her own bedroom and (Y/n) awkwardly maneuvered herself in her own bed to yell into her pillow.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n), are you sleeping with your eyes open? What an unsettling habit.”

“Hm?” (Y/n) blinked, turning her head to see the devil herself smiling down at her. She looked unfairly angelic in the soft sunlight that was streaming through the window. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Shinobu asked, taking a familiar perch on the edge of (Y/n)’s bed.

“Meh,” (Y/n) shrugged, willing the beating of her heart to not betray her, “Nothing. What were you saying earlier?”

Shinobu leveled a look at (Y/n) that could be clearly interpreted as saying something along the lines of, ‘I could easily grill you for the answers I want, but I’m feeling merciful at the moment so I’ll let it be’. “I had said good morning and asked you if you were ready for your light exercises. It was strange to see you look so focused. I’ll admit, I didn’t know your brain could work so hard. Don’t strain it too much though, okay?”

“Shinobu!” (Y/n) huffed, pursing her lips while Shinobu laughed at her cute expression.

“Oh don’t take it too hard, (Y/n). You know I’m just teasing. I think you’re quite intelligent,” Shinobu praised, leaning over to land a quick peck to (Y/n)’s forehead before pulling back up. “Now how about we sit you up, okay?”

“Okay,” (Y/n) couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips in response to Shinobu’s affections, “I’m ready.”

(Y/n) strained her core, and with a little help from Shinobu pushing at her back, she managed to sit upright in bed without much fuss. Still, (Y/n) felt a little light headed from the excursion.

“Take a moment to focus on your breathing.” Shinobu said. She had noticed (Y/n) swallow thickly and rubbed her back in soothing circles. “Let me know when your ready to move to the edge of the bed.”

After a minute passed, (Y/n) nodded at Shinobu and slowly but surely they worked together so that (Y/n)’s legs dangled off of the side of the bed and her arms hung loosely at her sides. It had really surprised (Y/n) how quickly her health had deteriorated in the wake of the butterfly demon’s attack. Even her legs which had been her best asset to her survival that night, felt like lead now. Heavy and weakened like the rest of her body as her energy was sapped away to heal the most damaged areas.

“Let’s begin with your arms, shall we?” Shinobu spoke almost in a whisper, her mind undoubtedly returning to that hard night as well. “Can you lift them for me?”

(Y/n) fought against the heavy feeling in her arms. Thanking the gods for the absence of the snug slings she no longer had to wear constantly. Though she had to fight hard, the burn she felt as she raised her arms felt kind of good, like stretching a sore muscle. She only managed to raise her straightened arms so that her hands were about level with her navel before they started to tense and shake.

“Good, Just hold.” Shinobu coached. (Y/n) held the position for almost fifteen seconds before she let her arms fall back to her sides in a sharp exhale of air. “Well done. Take a couple breaths and try another rep, okay?”

(Y/n) made it through three more repetitions. Blood thrummed in her ears and a light sheen of sweat covered her forehead but she had done better than yesterday and that was all she could ask for. Next were the wrist rotations which were a welcome relief despite the slight discomfort (Y/n) felt reverberate in her elbows. Then the finger flexes and shoulder rolls solidified the poor slayer’s exhaustion, but at least that signified the end of her light stretches. Or so she thought.

“We should really stretch your legs a bit. They feel stiff, don’t they?” Shinobu inquired, inspecting (Y/n) from where she stood in front of her, a finger tapping against her chin as she spoke.

“They have been feeling rather stiff,” (Y/n) agreed, “but I’m sure if I tried to stand up right now I’d buckle over like a sack of rice.”

“No need to stand. Usually I’d get the younger girls to help with such things but it won’t take long, lean back,” Even as Shinobu spoke, she didn’t give (Y/n) enough time to move on her own, pushing her flat on her back with a gentle hand pressed firmly against (Y/n)’s chest near her collarbone.

“Wah- wait. Aren’t you going to talk me through it or— eep!” (Y/n) choked on her words as Shinobu worked her hips between (Y/n)’s legs which still dangled off the bed. (Y/n) felt her blood pressure skyrocket as the space between them completely disappeared.

One of Shinobu’s hands moved slowly, excruciating so, over (Y/n)’s thigh in a way that was entirely unnecessary.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)? I’m not hurting you am I?” Shinobu cooed while her hand disappeared under the backside of (Y/n)’s thigh.

“No!” (Y/n) squeaked, cursing the way her voice rose another octave above her normal cadence.

“Good, I hope we can keep it that way. Let me know if it gets to be too much, okay dear?”

It should be a crime to have a voice that can hold such power over a person like that. Shinobu could have told (Y/n) to climb to the top of Natagumo Mountain and jump off and she’d have done it, no questions asked. (Y/n) released a shuddering breath and nodded her response, unable to trust her own voice to reply without risk of further embarrassment.

Shinobu hummed and pushed up on the back of (Y/n)’s thigh, her hand naturally sliding up to the crook of the slayer’s knee as the leg rose up. Slowly, she began to push the knee inward towards (Y/n)’s chest. (Y/n) winced slightly at the stretch, but it hardly registered in comparison to Shinobu’s extremely close proximity.

Shinobu placed her once idle hand over (Y/n)’s knee cap, her other hand sliding further up to cup (Y/n)’s calf, gently squeezing while she raised the rest of the leg and began to slowly stretch it over (Y/n)’s torso as far as she could get it to go.

(y/n) sucked in a breath, “Okay, that burns a bit!”

Shinobu paused her movements and held the leg in position, “Not bad flexibility, (Y/n). With a little bit of work I bet you could go even further. I think I’d like to see.”

What was (Y/n) supposed to say to that? She made some uncommitted sound and tried not to think too intently about how Shinobu was pressing into her. After a few more moments of holding the position, Shinobu moved the leg outward to stretch it from another angle. The limb cracked near the base of her hip and (Y/n) sighed with relief. This was a lot more gentle than what the younger girls put her through during recovery training all those months ago.

“Oh? Does that feel better, (Y/n)?” Shinobu asked, her voice like honey and silk. Her hands slowly massaging the muscles of (Y/n)’s calf and thigh. (Y/n) nodded, her eyes nearly closing as she focused on Shinobu’s ministrations. “I’d like to hear you say so, just to make sure.”

“Yeah, it feels awesome.” (Y/n) sighed again, unabashed. Shinobu giggled.

“Wonderful, let’s move on to the other one then, shall we?”

“Gods, yes please!” (Y/n) responded eagerly, rubbing her free leg against Shinobu’s side until Shinobu took hold of it and gave it the same treatment as the other leg which was now hanging loosely over the edge of the bed.

By the time Shinobu had brought (Y/n)’s other leg back down, (Y/n) was trying to fight off sleep. However, the loosened and relaxed state of her muscles after the stretches clearly were beating out her efforts.

“Wow, (Y/n). Tired already? You haven’t even eaten breakfast yet.” Shinobu commented while she absently ran her hands over (Y/n)’s thighs, the motion felt comforting.

“I know,” (Y/n) groaned, “It's your fault for being so good at your job. I feel like a limp noodle, a very sleepy limp noodle.”

“Oh?” Shinobu chuckled. Sliding her hands purposefully upward until they rested at either side of (Y/n)’s ribs. The shift in her weight had her resting on her elbows, her chest resting just below (Y/n)’s. “Perhaps I could find a way to liven you up.”

“What do you have in mind?” (Y/n) asked slyly, hoping Shinobu couldn’t hear how fast her heart was racing. She wrapped her legs over Shinobu’s hips, locking her in, in hope to distract her, but also to egg her on.

Shinobu grinned at (Y/n) and shimmied closer. One of her hands came up to cradle (Y/n)’s jaw. She leaned even closer and landed a quick kiss to (Y/n)’s chin, then she pressed another one in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck, making the injured slayer laugh as she nuzzled closer.

“Oh!” (Y/n)‘s eyes shot wide open as the feeling of teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Hm? What is it, (Y/n)?” Shinobu asked, smiling against (Y/n)’s neck. “You seem to be perking up already.” she added, punctuating her words with a quick swipe of her tongue over (Y/n)’s neck, making the girl beneath her shiver.

(Y/n) whimpered quietly, much to her embarrassment, while Shinobu lavished her neck with attentions. Shinobu slowly worked her way upward, kissing her jaw and cheek before connecting her line of vision with (Y/n)’s.

The lovestruck look in (Y/n)’s eyes quickly morphed into an indignant glare as she perceived the familiar, mischievous glimmer in Shinobu’s plum colored irises.

“No.” (Y/n) said, her tone disbelieving. “No.” She said again, this time with a little more force behind it, shaking her head while Shinobu grinned down at her. “Shinobu!”

“I’m sorry (Y/n), but my meeting is starting soon so I must be off. Aoi will be by with breakfast soon. Make sure you eat it all so you can get stronger, okay?”

“But—!” (Y/n) tried to hold Shinobu to her body by tightening her legs around her but they did nothing to help her in her weakened state. Shinobu easily slipped free and (Y/n)‘s legs dropped back down over the edge of the bed in defeat.

“No buts! Let’s get you turned around quick, alright?” Shinobu grunted as she hoisted (Y/n)’s lower half and twisted (Y/n)’s body to lay fully on the bed with very little help from the dumbfounded, disgruntled girl. Then with a quick, teasing squeeze of (Y/n)’s knee, she was gone.

(Y/n)’s arm shook as she painstakingly pulled one of the pillows behind her free and pressed it as hard as she could over her face. “What the fuck?! AHH!” (Y/n) screamed, her voice muffled by the dense material.

***

The next time Shinobu walked into her room, (Y/n) had decided that was going to kiss her. She was going to kiss her full on the mouth or die trying because if she knew one thing, it was that she couldn’t play Shinobu’s games any longer.

For the rest of the day (Y/n)’s head was filled with thoughts of Shinobu getting a taste of her own medicine. (Y/n) had it all planned out. First, she was going to tease and flirt. How hard could that be? Shinobu made it look as easy as breathing. Then, once Shinobu had been thoroughly charmed, she would be practically begging for (Y/n) to sweep her off her feet, metaphorically of course, at least until (Y/n) wasn’t on bed arrest anymore. Then she’d kiss her and it would be Shinobu who would short circuit, Shinobu who would be at (Y/n)’s complete mercy! A foolproof plan!

(Y/n)’s chance came around midday four days later. Shinobu had been sent away on a mission soon after her meeting, giving (Y/n) plenty of time to think of how to execute her plan of action. The slayer sat upright in her bed now that she could do so herself without too much strain. She stared the door down with a determined gaze, gently scratching behind Mochi’s head while the bird stood in her lap. Any minute now she would come through that door. Prepare to be seduced, Kochou Shinobu!

A knock resonated off the door before it slid open a moment later and Shinobu glided in. Mochi cawed happily, flapping off of (Y/n)’s lap to fly around the Hashira in greeting. Shinobu simpered at the overly enthusiastic raven and told the bird about a fresh meal worm cake with his name on it. Mochi screeched and Shinobu laughed, ducking her head as Mochi flew out the door and towards the garden at mach speed. Then Shinobu closed the door behind her. Then, when she turned back and smiled a most dazzling smile that was all for (Y/n), every suave thing (Y/n) had thought to say flew right out the window. Four days of planning, completely down the drain. And all that remained was one lovestruck idiot.

“H-hey... you.” (Y/n) greeted, returning Shinobu’s smile although she was definitely screaming at herself on the inside.

“Hey yourself. You already look so much better than the last time I saw you! You’ve been keeping up with your medications and stretches, right?” Shinobu sat herself down on the edge of the bed. Her back was tilted away from (Y/n) and one leg was tucked and bent over the bed sheets while the other swung off the bed. (Y/n) also noticed that curiously, Shinobu had one hand hidden behind her back.

“Of course I have. I want to get better as soon as possible.” (Y/n) nodded resolutely. “Now,” (Y/n) tilted her head and eyed Shinobu warily, “what have you got behind your back?”

“I have something I want to test with you, a game of sorts, (Y/n).” Shinobu grinned devilishly.

“I have a feeling I don’t want to play this game if that look on your face is anything to go by.”

“Oh don’t be like that, (Y/n). I think it will be good for you. Won’t you please do this? The reward should you succeed will be very sweet.”

“Hrrrmmmm,” (Y/n) winced as she adjusted herself on the bed to sit a bit straighter and looked at Shinobu suspiciously. The Hashira’s eyes gave nothing away and (Y/n) sighed. “I suppose I could humor you. I’ve missed you after all.”

Shinobu simpered, and bounced a bit closer to (Y/n) on the bed, jostling her somewhat. Her hand was still behind her back as the other one lovingly brushed at (Y/n)’s hair. “(Y/n), you’re too sweet,” she cooed, “I missed you too.” She came even closer and nuzzled (Y/n)’s nose with hers, giving it a quick peck before withdrawing. Her face appeared to have morphed into a more serious disposition that had (Y/n) feeling both confused and filled with a sense of apprehension.

“Uh, I don’t usually associate such serious expressions with games.” (Y/n) laughed nervously.

“Perhaps I misspoke earlier,” Shinobu amended, a bit sheepishly, “It’s not a game, I should not have phrased it as such. I’m sorry. I was belittling you without you even knowing, without me realizing. I didn’t mean to, I-“

“Shinobu,” (Y/n) covered the Pillar’s free hand with her own, “it’s okay. What is it?”

“Remember what I said about exposure therapy a while back?”

“Shinobu, no.” (Y/n) backed as far as she could against the headboard, her heart beat picking up pace.

“(Y/n), I think it would be good for you. I’m not saying you have to love butterflies, I just want to help lower the distress and anxiety you feel when they are near.”

“Maybe you should focus on your own fear of furry animals before you start trying to fix my problems.” (Y/n) shook her head, her eyes flickering between Shinobu’s own and the Hashira’s hidden arm.

“I told you, it’s not a fear. I just can’t stand the mess all that shedded fur makes. Need I remind you that I’m allergic to the dander left by most of those furry beasts?” Shinobu easily countered.

(Y/n) thought back to earlier last week when Naho had smuggled in a stray dog to feed it. Kiyo and Sumi had gotten an idea in their heads that if they could hide the dog from Shinobu, they could keep it. Unfortunately, they were not very good at keeping their excitement to themselves. They had already led the dog through most of the estate, including the infirmary just before Shinobu made her morning rounds. By the time they reached (Y/n)’s room to show her the sweet pup, Shinobu was already there, trying to find some solace from the irritants that ransacked her senses. Her eyes were irritated, puffy and watery. Loud, unrefined sniffles and sneezes practically had the poor Hashira gasping for air. (Y/n)‘ s heart went out to her, but the way Shinobu’s voice sounded while she was so congested was insanely adorable.

Shinobu had admonished the girls as gently as she could between ferocious sneezes that seemed impossibly loud coming from such a small woman. (Y/n) felt bad for the girls, for the dog, but at least the dog hadn’t been a stray after all.

Fortunately, it had belonged to the Wind Pillar of all people. Giyuu had apparently been charged with watching the dog while he was away on a mission. He had lost sight of it and had been looking for the fluffy white dog all morning. (Y/n) couldn’t help but chuckle as she recalled how Shinobu shit talked Shinazugawa and Tomioka while sitting at the desk in (Y/n)’s room while she mixed herself some medication between wiping her nose and dabbing tears from her eyes.

“You were so cute!” (Y/n) thought gleefully.

“There was nothing cute about it. I felt disgusting.” Shinobu disagreed, the vein in her forehead pulsed faintly. “Now, back to the subject at hand. (Y/n), behind my back I have a specimen jar. In this jar is a butterfly that is so small, it’s wingspan is only about half the size of my pinky finger,” Shinobu slid her free hand out from under (Y/n)’s and stuck out her pinky finger, “See how small that is?”

(Y/n) had wanted to say something snarky, something along the lines of every part of Shinobu being small, but she smartly kept that comment to herself and simply nodded instead. Shinobu put her hand back down over (Y/n)’s.

“The butterfly can’t get out unless you untwist the lid. All I want you to do is hold the jar for a minute. This is a completely controlled, safe environment for you to explore your responses to butterflies. If you really don’t want to try, I won’t force you. I’m only suggesting because I really wish for you to be more comfortable here, to feel more at home.”

(Y/n)’s heart warmed at Shinobu’s admission. Yes, Shinobu had an air about her that (Y/n) felt powerless to deny, but Shinobu would never want to take advantage of her nor anyone else. Though she provoked and teased like a demon, Shinobu was endlessly kind and compassionate where it mattered.

(Y/n) gave the Hashira a nervous smile and shakily presented her hands over her lap, “Don’t mess this up Kochou. I’m only doing this because I like you so much.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Shinobu said, sincerely. Finally, she produced the specimen jar from behind her back, cupping the bottom with her opposite hand while the other held firmly from the side. She gauged (Y/n)’s expression and observed for any intense discomfort in her body language as her hands made their approach.

(Y/n) immediately locked on to the small butterfly fluttering against the glass and swallowed hard. Her throat suddenly felt unbearably dry. Despite this, she kept her palms, now slightly sweaty, upturned in front of her, waiting.

(Y/n) jolted, feeling Shinobu’s knuckles slide against her palm. The only barrier left between the glass and her skin was slipping away.

“Oh gods!” All too quickly Shinobu’s hands were gone, hovering at either side of the glass, and (Y/n) was left holding the jar. “WhoooeeeEEAH! nooo nonono fuck-!“ (Y/n) scrambled to adjust her hold, only allowing the very tips of her fingers to hold on. Of course she realized that there was a layer of glass between herself and the insect, but she couldn’t help but hastily adjust her fingers every time the small insect fluttered too close. “Shinobu!”

“It’s okay, you’re doing great!” Shinobu encouraged. “Try focusing on telling me what you notice about the butterfly.”

“It looks like it’s out for blood!” (Y/n) exclaimed sharply, not taking her eyes off the specimen jar. Her fingers still dancing clumsily around the glass.

“How about you tell me about what you can physically see that is scientifically sound.” Shinobu tried again.

“It’s blue with black edges that have little white dots and it’s fast as hell! I think it’s tongue thing is flexing at me! Why is it doing that?!”

“That’s the proboscis, (Y/n). Butterflies use it to drink the nectar from flowers.” Shinobu provided helpfully.

“I bet it would drink my blood like a mosquito if it had the chance!” (y/n) thought bitterly.

“It physically can’t, (Y/n). The proboscis is too weak too pierce skin.”

“Is that true?” (Y/n) asked skeptically, “There’s not a single butterfly that would suck me dry if it could?”

“There is not a single butterfly in all of Japan that could do that to you, (Y/n).” Shinobu assured. Of course, she had read about some species of butterflies and moths overseas that did have the capability to drink blood and even presented the salty nutrients to their mates. She wasn’t going to tell (Y/n) that bit of information anytime soon though.

“Okay, that’s actually kind of reassuring, but it still freaks me out!” (Y/n)‘s fingers had finally found purchase on the rim of the metal lid. The butterfly inside had finally calmed down and settled at the bottom of the jar, it’s wings flapping intermittently.

“That’s okay, do you think you can tell me anything else about it? Our time is just about up.”

“Its legs bend weird. Its eyes are soulless. It looks like it’s resting now but it’s just biding its time.”

“Biding it’s time before I let it back out into the garden perhaps, but it has neither the desire nor the means to harm you.” Shinobu assured.

(Y/n) pursed her lips. She was staring so intently at the insect that she hardly registered Shinobu’s movements until she was fully straddling her thighs.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) mumbled, not taking her eyes away from the jar despite Shinobu’s change in position. The Insect Pillar did not speak, instead lifting (Y/n)’s chin up. “Hey!” (Y/n) exclaimed. She tried to keep her head down, unwilling to let the butterfly out of her sight lest it suddenly disappear. Yet, Shinobu persisted, taking either side of (Y/n)’s head in her hands, drawing closer until all (Y/n) could see was purple. “Shi-“

(Y/n)’s mind went delightfully numb, filled with a fuzzy warmth that radiated all the way down to her toes. She leaned further into the kiss, reveling in the softness of Shinobu’s lips nipping against her own. After a few more moments, (Y/n) could feel Shinobu’s lips part into a smile against her own and (Y/n) couldn’t help but do the same, resting her forehead on Shinobu’s.

“What was that for?” (Y/n) giggled breathlessly, her hands had somehow made their way to Shinobu’s neck, her fingers laced behind her head threatening to pull the Hashira back in at a moment’s notice.

“Hm? Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?” Shinobu teased, landing a quick, a more chaste, kiss to (Y/n)’s lips.

“You can, and you have, but never on the lips. What changed? I thought you were going to tease me about it forever.”

“As entertaining as that sounds, I was actually trying to do you a favor.” Shinobu grinned.

“How do you figure that?” (Y/n) asked, looking at Shinobu incredulously.

“Because now that I’ve got a taste of you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

“Mm!”

Another kiss more fiery and involved than the last. (Y/n) actually had to slip her hands down Shinobu’s chest and push her away so she could catch her breath.

“Not that I mind, and I really don’t mind,” (Y/n) spoke between breaths, “but what changed, why right this minute?”

“It was your reward.” Shinobu stated plainly.

“For...?”

“Oh my, you really did forget already, haven’t you? I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized I had cut off the oxygen supply to your brain so effectively.”

Suddenly (Y/n)’s eyes snapped down to her lap and yelled loud enough for Shinobu to wince and lean back a smidge. How had (Y/n) forgotten? She picked up the discarded specimen jar by the lid using her index finger and thumb and scanned the inside, shivering once she found the butterfly still inside. Then she reached to place it on the bedside table, it made a little clattering sound as she quickly removed her hand as if the glass had burned her. Pulling Shinobu closer, (Y/n) buried her face in her chest and groaned while Shinobu laughed and patted (Y/n)’s head.

“You distracted me.” (Y/n)’s muffled voice accused.

“Perhaps, but didn’t it feel nice? And look, you are no worse for wear. In fact, I might even say you looked even more relaxed than before we began.”

“So what, are you going to kiss me every time I see a butterfly? Hardly seems practical.”

“Mmm but what a lovely idea. There are certainly enough around that I could get several kisses every day. If we make a habit out of it, sooner or later when you see a butterfly, your first reaction will be to pucker up rather than screaming.” Shinobu mused.

“Can’t you just be satisfied knowing that you’re the only butterfly I have ever, and will ever like?” (Y/n) paused, “Well, you and Kanao, Aoi, Naho, Kiyo, and Sumi.”

“I’m so honored.” Shinobu smiled and rolled her eyes, still stroking (Y/n)’s hair.

“You should be. It’s a very exclusive list. But there is an even more exclusive list that only you have access to.” (Y/n) said, returning to an upright position to face Shinobu once more.

“And what list would that be?”

(Y/n) tilted her head and stole another kiss from Shinobu who eagerly reciprocated, chasing (Y/n)’s lips even as she pulled away, giggling.

“The list of butterflies that I could not be happier to kiss.”

#kny x reader #kny oneshots #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #shinobu kocho #shinobu kochou #shinobu x reader #shinobu kocho x reader #shinobu kochou x reader

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bourbonbees · 4 years ago

Text

Suptober Day 21- "Missing him was dark gray all alone. "

Beloved

Summary: It’s been 20 days, 3 hours, and 19 minutes since Cas was taken by the empty. Dean struggles with grief and decides it's time to accept Cas is lost forever. Selling his truck seems like a good first step, but before he does Dean (and Miracle) take it for one last ride. He gets an unexpected surprise in the form of a mixtape addressed to Cas' "beloved."

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34646320

Dean lies on his back in his bed, the room dark, grey, and lonely. He’s stopped keeping track of how many hours he’s been there, though the ache in his lower back tells him it’s likely been too long. He sighs heavily when he tunes in to the music playing though his headphones, the lyrics hitting him square in the chest.

“And did you exchange a walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage. How I wish, how I wish you were here.”

Usually Pink Floyd puts him in a mellow mood, but now the chords of “Wish You Were Here” makes his eyes sting with tears he can’t seem to make go away. It’s been 20 days, 3 hours, and 19 minutes since Cas traded his walk on role in Dean’s life for a cage in the empty. Of course, this was only after he spoke the words Dean has been waiting the past ten plus years to hear. Cas loves him. Loved him. Now he is gone.

Jack tries in earnest to bring him back, but the empty proves a worthy adversary for even God himself. Dean has stopped hoping, he knows Cas is lost. However, accepting that was proving to be damn near impossible. He sees Cas everywhere, he pictures him sitting at the table in the library, book in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other as they pull an all-nighter for a case. He gets flashes of a trench coat around the corner in the kitchen, glimpses of his annoyingly sensible dress shoes on the bunker stairs. Sam says this is normal, that its part of the grieving process and that Dean isn’t fully insane. Not yet at least.

Today is an especially hard day for no reason in particular. Dean wakes up that morning with a heavy sadness that sinks all the way down to his bones. Which is how he finds himself drinking a stale beer and crying at 10:00 AM on a Saturday. His only solace is Miracle, who seems to sense he needs a buddy and curls up next to him on the bed. It is also Miracle that forces him out of the depression nest he’s fully sinking into when he gets up and whines at the door to be let out.

“Okay buddy, I’m coming.” Dean nods, letting out a groan as he stands, his legs are stiff, his forty-something knees refusing to lock into place correctly. Since Cas left it seems that he is quite literally falling apart. He doesn’t get hungry anymore, his senses have all dulled, food seems bland, drinks flat, everything pointless. He feels as if all color has drained from his life, everything is grey.

Miracle snaps him from his thoughts, nosing at his hand and licking at it affectionately. He feels bad for the dog. Dean knows he isn’t the best dog dad right now, and yet Miracle hasn’t left his side for a moment. He’s thankful for the silent companionship but hopes that depression isn’t transmittable to dogs.

As he steps into the hall, he can hear Sam talking someone, most likely Jody, on the phone. “Do you think I should take him somewhere? He’s not coming out of this, he’s been in his room for four days. He didn’t even move when I offered to take him out for burgers.” Sam sighs, Dean knows that this sucks for everyone in his life, not just him. The dark cloud that he just can’t shake seems to take its hold on everyone in his life. They all look at him like he’s a hair’s breadth from breaking and maybe they’re right. True as it may be, he wishes they wouldn’t look at him with so damn much pity. The pity only deepens Dean’s guilt, he knows he is preoccupying too much space in their minds, preventing them from moving on by proxy.

He manages to slip past Sam unnoticed and exits the bunker through the garage. He pauses at Baby’s side, she’s got a thick layer of dust on her. He makes a mental note to giver her a proper bath, another one to add to the list of casualties of Dean’s grief. Miracle trots ahead and stops short at the rusted teal truck, sitting in the furthest back corner of the garage. The truck was draped in yellowed drop cloth, reminding Dean of the improvised funeral shroud from the owner’s first funeral. It was Cas’ truck.

He’s been avoiding looking too closely at the truck. It sat under the cloth, exactly as Cas had left it. Dean takes a deep breath and pulls the cloth off, the air sticking midway down his throat and refusing to reach his lungs, trapped by the lump in his throat. He lays his hand on the hood of the truck, closing his eyes and trying to picture Cas at the wheel, his hair slightly tousled from the wind, he always insisted on opening the windows, he claimed it was to appreciate “God’s air conditioning.”

He should really sell the truck. The thing is a hunk of trash, its rims are rusted, the door squeaks when you open it, the passenger mat has a hole in it, the visor on the driver’s side won’t open. He looks in the window of the truck and that’s when he spots it, in the middle of the dash is a cassette tape. It’s the cassette tape, the mix tape he gave Cas as a gift.

Before he can stop himself, he opens the door and climbs inside the cab of the truck. Miracle follows along, hopping over Dean and sitting on the passenger seat, panting happily. The movement jostles something, a plastic clattering sound drawing Dean’s attention. He looks down and right next to the hole in the mat is another cassette tape. He picks it up and instantly gasps when he sees Cas’ writing on the side of the case. ‘My Beloved, for Dean.’

Beloved. He was Cas’ beloved. He made him a tape and he never got to give it to Dean. He holds the tape and sniffles, his throat tightening even further when he spotted the tape was in the cassette player. This tape, the one Cas lovingly curated for Dean, is the last thing he listened to. Dean needs to hear it. He knows it’ll hurt like a bitch but he needs to do it.

“How about one more ride Miracle?” He says to the dog, patting his soft head, then turning the key that was left in the ignition.

Dean is caught between crying and laughing when the first song starts, the tinny sounds of a banjo and a canned pop riff coming through the truck’s speakers. “Taylor Swift, really Cas?” He scoffs, pulling out of the garage and heading onto the open road.

“Losing him was blue like I’d never known. Missing him was dark gray all alone.” The lyrics connect a little more than Dean would like. He rolls down the window and lets the late summer wind hit his cheeks, drying up the tears on his freckled cheeks and giving him a sense of something resembling peace.

He drives until he finds a field of sunflowers, it’s pretty, Cas would like it. If he closes his eyes he can almost picture Cas there beside him, looking out at the flowers, the golden hour closing in and washing his face yellowy hues. He perks up when the next song seems to know exactly what he needs.

“Golden, golden, golden, hold it, focus, hoping. Take me back to the light. I know you were way too bright for me. I’m hopeless, broken. So you wait for me in the sky.”

Dean leaves the truck running so he can keep listening to the song but gets out and let’s Miracle run around, the dog bounding through the field happily, his scraggly tail barely visible between the stalks. He wonders briefly if Cas is at peace or if he’s waiting, waiting for someone to save him. Waiting for Dean to save him. If only he could.

Once Miracle is tired out, they get back into the cab of the truck. The sun nearly blinding as it sits at eye level just above the horizon, casting long shadows on the sunflower field. Dean tries to pull down the visor, cursing the damn thing when he remembers it’s broken. He gives it a hard shove and something slides out from under the visor and lands on his lap. He looks down and finds two photos. The first is of Cas and Dean, it’s from the case they worked in Dodge City, the two of them wearing matching cowboy hats and goofy smiles. The second is one of Jack and Cas, clearly a selfie taken on one of their phones. Dean holds the photos to his chest. It’s the first time he’s seen Cas’ face since he left. The realization hits him like a ton of bricks and without warning, he’s weeping again.

“I had all and then most of you. Some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.”

The tape plays a haunting soundtrack as Dean let’s himself fully feel everything for the first time in twenty days. He’s been putting this off, the acceptance portion of grieving, it’s been coming in waves, waves so big they feel like they might drown Dean. He chokes on the thought that he will never get to tell Cas how much he loves him, how much he loves this damn mix tape, even if it heavily features Taylor Swift.

He takes the photos and tucks them into the pocket of his flannel, pressing his hand over the square of fabric just over his heart. If he tries hard enough he can feel the warmth of Cas’ hand, his healing touch from all the times he’d stitched him back up with grace. Cas was the one who ultimately rebuilt and now unraveled Dean.

The opening chords of Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide resonate through the truck, the sun disappearing behind a halo of sunflower petals. Dean feels his phone buzz in his pocket, he pulls it out and sees he has 5 missed calls from Sammy. He knows he should answer, he should tell him he’s alright, but is he really? Dean can’t seem to put into words what he’s feeling, it’s somewhere between an immense sense of loss and a bittersweet twang of nostalgia. He’s longing, longing for more time with Cas, longing for a chance to make their love requited, longing to slow dance with Cas to the Elvis song that starts playing next.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too.”

If only it were so easy, what Dean wouldn’t give to hold Cas’ hand. He opens the case to the mixtape looking over the rest of the songs. Cas has carefully written each one in blue pen, leaving little notes by each one.

6. Here Comes the Sun- The Beatles (Because you call me sunshine)

7. Hallelujah- Jeff Buckley (I really like the lyrics, love is not a victory march)

8. Wild Horses- The Rolling Stones (Because you love your cowboys and I love you)

9. Your Song- Elton John (How wonderful life is now you’re in the world)

10. Devil’s Backbone- The Civil Wars (This one makes me think of you.)

11. Lover- Taylor Swift (I hope you’ll be my lover.)

Dean reaches the end of the list and can’t help the sad smile that spreads on his face. At this point he is cried out, all that comes out is dry and heaving sobs, his mouth is dry and his eyes burn. Miracle lays his head in Dean’s lap, doing his best to provide a bit of comfort.

“I’m sorry buddy.” Dean apologizes, petting the dog, his soft fur soothing him slowly. He is almost asleep when his phone rings, Sam, again. This time Dean picks up, ready to chew his brother out and remind him that he has agreed to give him space while he processes things. But instead a voice comes through that sends a shock down his spine.

“Dean.” It’s Cas, his Cas.

“Cas? It can’t be. I’m here, I’m in your truck. I found the mixtape but you’re gone. I-I don’t understand.” Dean hiccups, turning the radio down so he can hear better. “If this is a demon prick, know that I will torture you slowly and enjoy it.” He grumbles, unable to believe that the voice on the other end could actually be Cas.

“No, it’s me, Sam, he and Rowena found a way to bring me back. I-I don’t understand how, but I’m here. I’m waiting for you at the bunker.” The maybe Cas responds.

“If it’s you, what’s number 1 on the mixtape?” Dean tests, needing to be sure before he gets his hopes up only to be crushed again.

“Red, Taylor Swift. Now come on, get back here. Please.” Cas replies, causing Dean to spring into action. He starts the truck and drives back as fast as the old truck will allow, its engine whining and gritting as he makes the last few miles in a few minutes.

He rushes into the bunker, running down the hall, Miracle following excitedly on his heels. He stops in his tracks when he spots the familiar form, beige trench coat framing broad shoulders, wild brown hair glowing in the florescent lighting over-head, blue eyes with little crinkles at the corners. Dean closes the distance and throws himself at Cas, they embrace, everything seems to go out of focus. Nothing else matters. It’s just Dean and Cas.

“I love you too. I love you so much, you dick. You didn’t give me a chance to say it back and then I found that tape. God, you’re so stupidly perfect and I love you.” Dean mutters, pulling back and locking eyes with Cas.

“You don’t have to call me God, Cas will do.” Cas teases.

“Shuddup and kiss me.” Dean leans in and connects their lips, he could disappear into this moment forever and he kind of hopes he does. He is home.

That night Cas and Dean lie together in bed, the mixtape playing low in the background. They haven’t defined what this is, what they are, but Dean isn’t in a rush. Neither is Cas. For once there is nothing but time. Time to make more mixtapes, time to kiss, time to explore each other’s bodies, time to just be lovers.

Notes:

If you are interested in making your own playlist of Cas' mixtape, here are the songs mentioned in order.

1) Red- Taylor Swift

2) Golden- Harry Styles

3) The Night We Met- Lord Huron

4) Landslide- Fleetwood Mac

5) Can't Help Falling In Love- Elvis

6) Here Comes the Sun- The Beatles

7) Hallelujah- Jeff Buckley

8) Wild Horses- The Rolling Stones

9) Your Song- Elton John

10) Devil’s Backbone- The Civil Wars

11) Lover- Taylor Swift

Enjoy! If it's any consolation, I also cried while writing this.

#suptober21 #destiel #destiel fic #destiel angst

49 notes · View notes

sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years ago

Text

Golden II (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: hello. This is the second part of the Kakashi amnesia fic. I was so conflicted on what to do in this one and admittedly, I am not satisfied with this. Not completely. I really struggle writing the second part of a trio, and it's evident here.

Part three is up!

Word count: 4200

_______

Kakashi struggled to maintain his normal persona after Y/N got into the incident. He just couldn’t shake off that desperate need to be around her. At this point, it was just instinctual to look for her in the crowds, and expect to see her waiting for him each time he got home from a mission. He missed her laugh and her smile, and the people in the village did not help.

His only solace was on missions where he could forget about it all. It was an impossible struggle, especially when everyone and their mother was consoling him every time he stepped outside to do literally anything. He didn’t want people in his business, especially something so sensitive.

The mornings were now cold and depressing. Each time he rolled over in an attempt to throw his arm around his girlfriend, he was only met with the hollow space where she used to be. He would bury his face in his pillows and shut his eyes, just trying to drown out her voice from his mind. But her scent still lingered on his linens and buried deep into the pillows.

He imagined her groggy eyes opening just a peek to see if he was awake before her, and he usually was. She would smile and scoot close to his body, curling up and hugging him around the waist, her head resting against his chest. He missed wrapping her up in a cuddly hug, peppering the top of her head with kisses.

He missed going to get breakfast with her, and her ranting to him about this new novel the store had in shipment, comparing the plot to that of other books she had read and gushing over the character development or the vocabulary or a plot twist she'd never seen. She was always such a nerd, it was adorable.

And he missed meeting up with her each night as she closed the store, her hugging him so tight he could feel her heart beating against his. She'd attack his face with kisses and giggles, pulling down his mask in between the bookshelves where no one could see and gracing his lips with a kiss, or a dozen, depending on the day.

He just missed her. But he knew it was for the best-not knowing her anymore, not getting attached all over again, or letting her get close to him again. He thought of her amnesia as a fresh start, a way to break up with her without crushing her emotionally. She would never know what she was missing.

He would be the only one suffering, and that was better to him than the other way around.

For Kakashi, it was always hard to imagine he would get to a place in life where he felt comfortable enough with someone to maintain such a relationship. He didn’t think he would grow to have these moments with someone he loved. He worked through so many walls he had built up over the years, fought against all his paranoia and superstitions, and for what? To feel his heart break?

He felt betrayed, by whom, he had no idea. He just felt like the stars had aligned perfectly in favor of screwing him over the moment he was comfortable, the moment someone was able to squeeze into his heart and share their love. It would take time to get over his feelings for her, he knew that. The memories would always linger, but they wouldn’t cut through him like they did now.

For now, the only thing he could do was lie in his bed until his next mission the following day. Without her, he didn’t see any reason to get out of bed anyway.

______

Y/N returned to her apartment after being discharged from the hospital, and did as she was instructed to do. Each day she would look through her belongings, pictures, trinkets, anything that had emotional value, hoping it would bring out some of her old memories. Nothing really changed. Sometimes she could see flashes of people in her head that lived in the village. Kakashi, that guy in the green suit, Yamato, the sweet girl that took care of her all her days in the hospital. All of them appeared in her mind at one point or another, but nothing strong enough to give her any knowledge.

Tsunade told her to just keep trying and hopefully, something would fix itself. It seemed like a shot in the dark, but anything was worth a try.

It wasn’t until a few hours into the cleaning process, scrapping blood and ink out of carpets and stocking her shelves of the store, that she found something of real importance. Deep in the back of her front counter, hidden in a drawer, sat a small shoebox, filled with stacks of papers.

At first, she assumed they were probably just old receipts, but that was not the case.

Inside she found many things. Photos, notes, letters, and little trinkets all stacked carefully in the box like her previous self took extra special care of them. For this reason, she took the box to the table to sit down and go through everything one by one. Anything was worth a try, and maybe this would propel her recovery in motion..

First she examined the letters. They were very short, but full of information about her past self, and she found herself more intrigued and surprised with every word. Each one was from Kakashi, she noted that immediately. Out of all people, she could not imagine that man sitting and writing out anything nice or thoughtful to her.

But she was wrong.

They stated things about how he was on missions and wouldn't be back for a month or so at a time. He often stated how badly he wished to come back home and visit her bookstore again. How he was sorry for being gone so long that he couldn’t help around the store.

The first few, dated as far back as 7 years, were very friendly, nothing out of the ordinary for a correspondence between friends. It still seemed sketchy to her that Kakashi took time out of his day to send her letters, but not unbelievable. It wasn’t until they progressed right in front of her eyes that she was taking in every word with awe.

They detailed how much he missed seeing her face, which he often described as beautiful and precious. She was his motivator that kept him going each morning and through the long nights, he said. The man proclaimed his love over and over in the letters starting four years ago until the very last which was from a few months ago. He was never very descriptive or detailed, but he got across what needed to be said and what was on his mind very effectively.

She had no idea Kakashi felt that way about her. He really didn't act like they had any relationship at all. He actually spent most days avoiding her at all costs. Of course, she would see him walking down the street, and wave through the glass panels of her bookstore, not that he ever cared. He would usually take one look over at her, and then walk faster in the opposite direction.

To say her first impression of him was a bit off putting was an understatement. Where other people like Yamato treated her with kindness and humility, he seemed to think he was too good to try and reconnect. Although, he was certainly a handsome man and very courageous. She could vaguely see why her old self was at least physically attracted to him. Even if he wasn’t acting the nicest now, the letters led her to believe he was possibly a hopeless romantic.

She scanned through the other things in the box. The photos were ones of her with all her friends, but the majority were just Kakashi. The first few photos, the oldest, with the most damage around the frayed edges, were of them when they were much younger. He didn't have on the jounin vest he wore, and she had such a baby face to match a toothy grin. Maybe they were teenagers, 20 somethings? She couldn’t tell for sure.

The photos were just of them together. Sitting by certain sights or buildings, hugging, eating, on every kind of date you could imagine. It looked like she documented each one. Time stamps on the backs in whatever pen color she had at the time, scribbled details here and there.

It made sense now, why she had a pile of disposable cameras in her room. Dozens of photos of Kakashi, decades of memories all piled up in this box between the pair. It felt surreal, seeing herself in places she couldn’t recognize, in the arms of a man she barely knew.

She must have really loved him before. Their relationship was one of quite a few years from the looks of the things in this box, and obviously she cherished even the little moments. She felt guilt pang in her chest, and her stomach to turn over painfully. How he must have felt when she told him she didn't remember him. How it must feel walking past her in the street and knowing what they had was gone. She couldn't imagine the pain he had to be going through.

And he said that the entire thing was his fault. That day he walked into her hospital room, he apologized for what he did to her, saying that his family was the cause for this, and that he should have come to the store earlier to make sure something like that never happened. He wasn’t a superhero, despite what everyone thought of him. He was merely a man, a shinobi with a love for porn novels and dogs and one girl he desperately wanted to protect. Now that was gone.

Needless to say, she felt awful. It wasn’t her fault for not remembering him, but it sure felt that way.

She set everything back into the box and put it in its place under the counter before flipping the open sign to closed and heading out into the street. She knew where he lived, only because of the return addresses on the envelopes of the letters. She was still quite familiar with Konoha and it's workings, some of the street names hazy but there. She was now determined to make it to his apartment, even if she had to ask everyone in town to help navigate.

If he was on a mission, so be it, but if he was home, she wanted to see the man.

Thankfully, she realized that he lived only a few streets away from her when a street vendor pointed her in the right direction, but damn, he lived on the fourth floor and she inwardly cursed him. Her legs were still a bit shaky from the incident, and she hadn't healed completely. Stairs were a pain for her. This entire man seemed like a real pain, honestly.

She finally made it to the fourth floor after hobbling up like an old man, and knocked on the second door. She was going to have a conversation with this man, the same man who was keeping their history a secret this entire time without trying to make a connection again.

No one in this town wanted to explain anything to her. Yamato was nice but he always beat around the bush and left when things started getting informative. Sakura just fawned over her broken limbs and injuries. And the man in the green jumpsuit was too loud, she usually had to kick him out once she felt a headache coming on. Other than that, she didn’t have many friends. They’d told her her family died in a “jinchuriki” attack, whatever that meant, so she didn’t have any family to ask either.

As she waited at the door, she felt her stomach churn. Part of her was genuinely curious how her younger self fell for him and what they were like together. Like, what was the appeal? He seemed kinda strange and distant, and she couldn’t help but want cuddles and love constantly. It seemed like an odd match, and Y/N couldn’t help but question it.

Opposites attract, I guess.

After a couple seconds, the door opened a crack, and a half dressed man answered the door. She found her face heating up a bit. He wasn’t even exposed in any way, he just wasn’t wearing his headband, nor did he have his jacket on, revealing toned arms and fluffy, messy hair that she had to admit was pretty adorable. Okay, so she could definitely see herself falling for someone so handsome, but regardless, she was on a mission.

He looked startled to see her standing there in all her glory, out of breath and bent over like she’d run the whole way here. She held onto the doorway to balance herself. Perhaps she was just a tiny little bit out of breath from climbing the stairs still. Y/N apologized quickly, “Sorry, give me a second. Going up the stairs is really hard to do and you live on the fourth floor so, yeah.”

“Who told you where I live?” He questioned, scanning the walkway to make sure no one else was around to be listening.

“You did, actually,” she answered after taking a deep breath. “I found an old box of letters from you, and I just went to the return address.”

The letters. How could he forget about them? He had tried to rid her place of all signs of him, taking out pictures of the two of them together save for a few with other people included. He took out every single belonging he had. The only thing he missed was the letters, ones he didn’t even know Y/N had kept in the first place. He cursed himself.

Her reading the letters made him feel violated. Even if the letters were for her, it felt like a stranger had just read some of his deepest and most pathetic thoughts, the ones of love and adoration and depression all piled up in a few letters addressed to a Y/N he used to know. He felt sick thinking about what this woman now knew.

“Okay. Well, listen, you really shouldn’t just come to my apartment like this. I’m not fond of drop in visits.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I want, Kakashi Hatake, or should I say, my lover,” she laughed, resting one of her hands on her hip proudly. He felt himself wince at the sound of those words coming from her lips, seeing her childish grin. It reminded him too much of before, how they used to be, and he couldn’t handle that. Suddenly, he felt that familiar sickness rolling in his stomach. “How come you never said anything about it?”

“Because, I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“Why? Obviously you were a very big part of my life and I, yours,” she asked.

He sighed and leant on the doorframe, his eyes never leaving the village over her shoulder, anything other than meeting her eyes. He really did not want to have this conversation with her. He would have talked her ear off about a month before when she actually had her memories and knew who she was, but today, with the way she was, he might as well be speaking to a stranger.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Of course.”

“It’s because I was going to leave you after the accident either way” he confessed, and she could only nod. It wasn’t like she was gonna get offended by his words, she didn’t even know him. He continued, “It makes me sick knowing that all this was my fault in the first place.”

She tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“The reason that man and his lackeys kidnapped you is because of my father’s mistakes,” he sighed, “That bastard wanted to get revenge by hurting you, since you and I were close.”

She nodded, tapping the floor with her foot as she absorbed everything he’d said. That is what he alluded to before when they met in the hospital. She replied calmly, her tone so understanding it made him feel nauseous.“I see. Well, I wouldn’t exactly call that your fault. You definitely didn’t directly cause anything to happen, if anything it was your father. I’m not offended at all.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think. It doesn’t make this anyone's fault but mine.”

“Really, it’s not your fault. You could have never predicted this,” she tried to say, but he just went on, words flowing out faster than she could argue against them.

“It doesn’t matter. I knew that it was wrong to let you into my life. You would have lived just as happily if I’d have ignored you and let you meet some son of a baker, get married after a year, have a bunch of kids, shit, I don’t know,” he cursed. She could tell he was breaking down feelings he had been harboring for a while, and she pushed past him into his apartment, walking right under the arm he was resting on. This wasn’t something to talk about in public, out in the open. “I knew that if you were with me that you would never live a normal life, and I still let you fall in love with me, all because I was too selfish to put my own feelings aside.”

“Love shouldn’t be suppressed like that. You did what was natural.”

“Yeah, and look where that got us. Look where that got you, Y/N.” He waved to her bandaged legs. “You’re never going to remember me again, so it doesn’t matter if I rekindle our relationship, does it?”

She took a seat on the edge of his bed to rest her tired legs. He seemed so angry with himself, so much self hate radiating from his person. He was hurting so badly, and she just wished he would let her comfort him.

For a moment, she wondered if he would let her hold him like before, so he could pretend that things hadn’t gone wrong, even for a short time. Put his mind at ease if only for a short while. Y/N refrained from saying anything, though. Physical touch was probably one of the worst things for him right now, especially from her.

Instead, she meditated on what he said. She sat there fiddling with her fingers, trying to figure out what to say to him, anything that would make the situation easier for him. All she ever wanted was to make life easier for others, and if her way of doing so was being kind and thoughtful toward these worn shinobi, then that is what she would do.

She leaned back on her hands and let out a soft sigh, words surfacing in her brain that might just do the trick. “Kakashi, do you want to hear something that might bring you hope?”

“Whatever,” he brushed off, not thinking anything she could say would make the situation better. He’d tried for a month to make things better and nothing was working.

“I’ve been having dreams. Dreams of the past, dreams of memories that I have forgotten. When I look through photos, new images appear of people that I used to know,” she told him softly. “Tsunade says that means I’ll regain my memories with time, it’s just taking a bit longer than we had hoped. She thinks I can get everything back. The girl that you used to know.”

He stood there for a moment, just processing what she said. He could feel his heart beat a little faster in his chest, and he lifted his eyes slowly to meet her own. She always had such soft, gentle eyes, even now. “Do you have any dreams of me?” He was hesitant to ask, but she gladly nodded. “What do you remember?”

“Well, it’s mostly just snapshots here and there of you and everyone else. Short little tibbits of what life used to be like. I know Yamato has wood nature jutsu because in one of my dreams he had summoned this ginormous tree. I know there is a younger guy with the most yellow hair I’ve ever seen. I know that you have a red eye under the headband, but I don’t know what it’s for,” she explained, listing off some examples of things shehad dreamed of.

He hummed. “Firstly, you’re right about Yamato. He’s actually the only one alive who can use that jutsu.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Is that why he’s head of the...uh, that group? The ones with the animal masks?” she asked, feeling foolish at her lack of knowledge.

He let out the tiniest of chuckles, just a hint of one. “It’s actually ANBU, but good on you for knowing about them. And it’s not just because of his wood jutsu, he is also a very skilled and strong shinobi. He is a good team leader,” he explained. For a moment, he almost found it fun to listen to her struggle to remember things and then help her out. He noticed the way her nose crinkled when she was thinking especially hard about something, and god, it reminded him of before. He felt his heart thawing with each look her way.

Kakashi shut his front door and walked over to the other side of his bed. He took a seat against the wall, kicking out his legs. He was beginning to relax. “And about the yellow haired kid? That’s one of my students, Naruto Uzumaki. He’s a handful, but also a very talented, determined shinobi.”

She mouthed the name to herself a couple times, trying to memorize it. It sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t be too sure. A lot of things sounded like she should remember them, and she couldn’t exactly figure out which were right.

“And your red eye?”

“It’s a long story, and we won’t go into it. Simply put, this eye is called the sharingan. It’s a special dojutsu that only members of the Uchiha clan possess.”

“So you’re part Uchiha?”

“No. That’s the part I’m not gonna get into,” he brushed off her question. That was something that he really did not want to discuss again. He’d already told her the story once, he didn’t need to do it a second time, even if she had amnesia. When he looked over at her, she looked so familiar. Her eyes were filled with happiness, and he noticed that her lips were curled up into a sweet smile. “What are you happy about?”

She shook her head and turned her head to hide the upward curl of her lips. She was just so glad, her whole body felt warmer because of it. “Because you are being nice to me and explaining things. No one really explains things to me, they just skip around stuff usually,” she confessed as she tapped her heels together.

He could only shake his head at that. “You deserve to know at least the basic stuff, just until you get your memory back.”

“Hmm? You’ll explain any of my memories? Like any of them?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Oh, yeah, well explain this dream I had.”

“Shoot.”

Her smile took a mischievous turn, and he definitely noticed the change. He could only imagine what she was about to ask. “I’ll give you a hint...I know what you look like completely naked,” she giggled, falling back on the bed and covering her face with her hands.

“And you call me the pervert…” he sighed, crossing his arms behind his neck. Her laugh, it was like music to his ears. No matter what she could say, he was just relieved to feel her beside him, gleaming with a happiness he missed for nearly a month now.

“I really had a sex dream about you the other night, but you can imagine my confusion. I was like, what the hell, I don’t even know the guy,” Y/N laughed, “It all makes sense now.”

He rolled his eyes at her sense of humor. Things felt so normal, like before. He felt his chest grow warm at the feeling. Kakashi’s lips cracked into a grin under his mask, not that it mattered to wear the mask. She already saw his face in a dream, it seemed kinda pointless if they were alone.

Maybe he would let things go back to normal. Maybe he would talk to her more, and let her visit when he was home. Maybe he could go to her store when she waved to him instead of running away like a coward. Maybe he could let himself be happy, despite his faults, despite what happened to her. The wounds could be mended, he decided.

He just couldn’t help but be selfish and let her back in.

#kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #naruto x reader #naruto imagine #naruto one shot #i really love reader in this #i would marry her if i could #steal her from kakashi lol

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