#something so tragic and so wonderful— to be seen through and to aid in seeing

[weirdfishy]

hey yo, just found this quiz that tells you how the audience would see you as a character

[callimara]

I don't know what to do.

When I tried talking to a close relative of mine about Palestine, they went on a spiel. They insisted that it wasn't genocide, that Isr*el had given them their land, that Palestine was warned about the Hamas and still voted for them, that Palestine struck first, that Isr*el warned them and gave them time to move south before Isr*el attacked. They insisted the support for Palestine is spurred on by propaganda!

When I asked my relative for proof, they dodged the question, claimed they've known about the whole thing about Isr*el and Palestine for a very long time, and said something about something being in the quran.

Now I'm torn and I'm not sure what's true anymore!

I have so many asks to go through, but I think this one is very important to answer.

To start, I think you are very brave for asking questions and trying to find the truth amidst all the propaganda, so here's what I know.

For some context, I am an Indonesian, and Indonesia and Palestine have very close diplomatic relations and share many similarities in history. We were both colonized and had to resist occupation in a white supremacist world where you are seen as lesser if your skin isn't white and savages/terrorists if you resist or if you want your land back.

Palestine was also the first to recognize Indonesia's independence in 1945, and Indonesia has built a hospital in Gaza that is one of the last ones currently standing due to relentless Israeli bombardments.

People who have gone through oppression recognize oppression. And so far the only people I have seen supporting Israel have been people who had been indoctrinated with Zionist views from childhood, people who are NOT educated on the history of Israel (and why they were there in Palestine to begin with and it is NOT because of the holocaust, which I will explain further down), and Evangelical Christians who want to bring on the rapture. Even then, what they are so angry and appalled by are people calling to send aid, and their only argument for not allowing aid into Gaza because they will be used to create weapons and rockets.

They genuinely believe that Palestinians have a magical ability to turn things like food, water, and medicine into rockets.

So, I will go through your relatives' points one by one.

Firstly, it is not a religious issue. And it never had been. This is colonization and apartheid. Do not let the media or uninformed people tell you otherwise, because that is how they justify and defend its existence.

Israel gave them their land back

Lots of Israelis say that Israeli forces completely pulled out of Gaza in 2005. That isn't 'giving land back' that is 'withdrawing from taking more land.' The entirety of what is now Israel WAS Palestine, and Palestinians aren't even asking for ALL of it back, just the borders that they had in 1967.

Also, if you're wondering why they pulled back, it's because you cannot bombard your own occupied territory, which we see them doing freely now.

Palestine was warned about Hamas

Really? That's so funny because Hamas is backed and funded by Benjamin Netanyahu (his own words at a press conference with an Israeli news cite, not mine) and his US minions to try and oppose the PLO (Palestine Liberation Movement), who were seen as a more legitimate governing body that would make Israel and the US look bad for trying to eradicate them. So, they chose a more extremist group that they'd have an easier time selling as "barbaric terrorists" as a justification to bombard Gaza with impunity. If this sounds familiar, that's because it should. It's all part of their playbook.

Palestine struck first

This did not begin on October 7th. This has been going on since the Nakba in 1948. What happened on October 7th was tragic, but it was IDF bullets that killed those hostages. It took them 6 hours to respond (a survivor said that Hamas had to ASK them to call the IDF, because they were not coming), and when they came, they killed their own civilians and hostages in the crossfire. Watch this video for the full evidence.

Hamas took hostages for a hostage swap. For the thousands of Palestinian civilians that had been kidnapped and wrongfully detained (some of them WITHOUT CHARGES) in Israeli prisons, which included KIDS. And as of now, Israel has rejected the Israeli hostages 3 times even though they are killing them in the bombardment.

Israel has something called the Hannibal Directive. Go look it up.

Because no one in their right mind would agree that just because there is a school shooter hiding inside a school with hostages while using the students as human shields, the only course of action is to then bomb the entire school.

And ask yourself, if this is truly a war on Hamas and Israel valued Palestinian civilian lives as much as they do Israeli lives, then if Hamas was hiding in Israel, would the IDF be using the same approach as they are currently using for Gaza? And if not, then why.

Israel warned them and gave them time to move south

They gave 1 million people 24 hours to complete a trek that would have taken 72 hours. 1 million people who had mostly been women, children, and the handicapped. And during the evacuation, they were bombing convoys, ambulances, and safe routes. Then when they finally got to the south of Gaza, they were bombed there too. In the place where they were supposed to be safe.

Also, if Russia had warned Ukraine that they were going to bomb them and gave them time to evacuate, does that then make it ok for Russia to bomb Ukraine? Of course not, that's a silly argument.

The support for Palestine is spurred on by propaganda

Well, which one between Palestine and Israel literally has the entire western media in their pocket? Which one has been PAYING influencers to voice their support for their country? Which one has been proven to spread LIES unquestioned? (Like 40 beheaded babies, for instance? Or using AI generated images for proof?) Which one has been posting tweets proudly declaring that they have committed war crimes, deleting the tweets, and backtracking?

Which one has fucking social media accounts that are beefing with models and celebrities who are against them, and are using influencer's images without their permission to make it seem like they're on THEIR side?

So now, let's talk about Israel and Holocaust Survivors.

First of all, the creation of a Jewish state in Palestine began in 1917 when Britain signed the Balfour Declaration, which states that they are giving away their occupied colony of Palestine to a group of Zionists immigrating to Palestine from Eastern Europe and Yemen. First thing to note here, there were already Palestinians living on the land, it was not a barren empty land, and it was colonized by the British. So the British gave away stolen land that they had no right to give away in the first place.

The holocaust survivors didn't arrive in Israel until the end of WW2 in the 1940s where they were then scorned and laughed at by the Zionist settlers in Palestine for being 'weak victims.' The holocaust victims continued to be discriminated against and left to live in poverty by the Israeli gov't.

However, their arrival gave the west a reason to arm the settlers so that they can 'defend themselves' from all the 'vicious, evil, uncivilized Arabs' they were surrounded by. And they used this excuse and dehumanization to displace 750,000 Palestinians from their land. The Nakba.

And they continue to use the holocaust survivors (that they are also treating badly) as a shield from international criticism to expand until we have the borders we have today.

[deathnguts]

Seer Regulus who was mislead by his visions??Tricked by fate?? Going to his death thinking he was doing something good and not realizing fate was luring him into death’s arms?? Seer Regulus who was doomed from the start by fate but fooled into thinking he had a chance???

Seer Regulus?????????

Seer vision/prophecies can sometimes be murky/overall confusing and I love the myths where people would interpret it one way and go LENGTHS to avoid their fate only to walk right into it (ex Perseus’ father) and Seer Regulus being that trope??? I’m a goner! ITS THE IDEA OF CHANCE YOUR DOING EVERYTHING YOU CAN AND YOU MISS IT BY JUST A BIT!

Obviously this contradicts his note (which was def a suicide letter) but wouldn’t be interesting if Regulus ( a proud puteblood and canonically the heir to a an old and powerful house) thought he could outsmart the Dark Lord by misleading him into thinking Regulus was dead (a stretch really) (HURBIS AS A DOWNFALL LIKE THE GREEK HEROS)

Buts it’s really jsut a thought not to be taken too srs where Regulus thinks he can outsmart Voldemort because he’s a seer but he gets tricked by fate right into Death’s embrace

(I’m sorry if I’m being so annoying rn I went thru a thing where I thought about seer regulus so hard)

No you’re not being annoying this is cool! Regulus is (or used to be) a walking tragedy, he’s a ghost that doesn’t even haunt the narrative right. Him only having one leg up on the competition through his seeing and still somehow failing to use it to his advantage would be so in character for him in the way that a lot of people like to forget he canonically was in the end: a failure. Like I love him to bits but he didn’t do anything to actually help anyone (though it still speaks to his character that he tried guys let’s not forget), and his name was only mentioned and remembered by a brother who despised him. And him being a seer represents that perfectly!! Every seer character we see, or at least those who are good at divination at the very least, are viewed as weird and useless and crazy and that’s how the few who remember regulus view him too. It’s so tragic because this is a boy who desperately wanted to be taken seriously and do anything of impact to help a cause he could try to believe in and failed both sides, prophets in mythology often suffer the same fates.

And not to say him being a seer couldn’t give him any strength, it just isn’t one that we’ve seen wizard society admire really. Like I imagine the Blacks didn’t flaunt that their child was a seer because it’s not really something to be proud of. I imagine he wasn’t even that good at it because he didn’t take divination to sort it out because despite knowing what he was, he viewed the class as below him like everyone else did. I imagine that no matter how many times he bore witness to murky, horrifically tragic visions of the futures of those he held dear, he never said a thing to anyone because he didn’t see the point. Even when they aided him through waking up from nightmares he stayed quiet as his glowing eyes dimmed and claimed he didn’t remember. Because I imagine that when he was young he simply didn’t know what they were, then he grew older and was ashamed of them, and then he grew the last leg he knew he would and learned to internalize them. Like I love me a good angst fic with regulus seeing those he loves for the last time, him knowing he won’t make it back and knowing he can’t tell them that and them being none the wiser. And isn’t that even cooler if he quite literally saw himself die and knew he’d rather take that attempt at moral change than avoid fate? Or like you said, maybe he misinterpreted it and fully believed it didn’t have to be a goodbye because he thought he would succeed? His last thought a scrambling panic of wondering what he did wrong to lead to a fate he should have seen coming?

Yea I just like embracing the tragedy of regulus’ character and prophets are nothing if not tragic

[itsbeenliketenyearsitsprettywild]

*deep breath* Okay. In that case, buckle the fuck up.

For all I know, there might be canon lore or word from the creator that entirely debunks this idea. If so, please feel free to tell me directly! I love discussion with other fans, and don't take it personally if a theory i back turns out to be incorrect!

(and honestly somewhere along the way I realized I DO NOT have the spell slots necessary to put my full thesis down, so sadly you're only getting the cliffnotes and some shitty visuals I made instead.) But before I get into it, I'd like to put a warning for those tempted to keep reading: This is the sort of pretentious plot twist spoiler that (depending on your tastes) might make the experience of MILGRAM a lot less fun for you just by knowing/considering it. As such, please use discretion before clicking on the read more. But! I don't think it'll spoil anything to state the basic premise.

The truth is deceptively simple: MILGRAM is a work of fiction set up so that us, the audience, get to influence the characters present in the narrative, thus directly influencing everything that happens, via the cast/crew reacting to our decisions according.

At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if you some of you think I'm joking or wondering how that in any way counts as a theory.

Part 1: A Cosmic Horror Story(ish) by Any Other Name

In which case, lemme shift the spotlight from the audience's perspective of Milgram to the character's experience of it:

While they don't realize it, the characters of MILGRAM are intentionally constructed beings, within an intentionally constructed universe. Which isn't to say that they, as characters, don't have thoughts and feelings. Their lives and experiences and crimes are just as real as everything else around them. But! Seeing as all of that is fictional, that's... debatable, at best.

They were all created (for the purpose of entertainment) by a force/entity that is basically all-powerful within their universe, but is almost entirely passive in nature. Or to put it another way: It's the cast/crew of MILGRAM that makes this whole narrative exist, but they're always gonna stay in the background of the story. The focus is always on the characters and how they deal with all this.

Past the force that created them, there is one other group of entities that exists outside the character's universe. It's these beings who actively engage with them, through means that go beyond the physical. ie; that us, the audience!! We vote, engage in theorycrafting, and talk about the characters to the point where oh shit they might be going a little insane from hearing us, actually.

Part 2: Other Helpful (and Very Shitty) Visual Aids, Without Context

Part 3: "Wait, so that means we shouldn't have been vot-" Lemme stop you there

With all this in mind, the conclusion most people would immediately come to would be "So this really was just the creators redoing the Milgram experiments, and our only ethical option is to not vote at all!"

Which, no.

Though we might largely have the most direct say in how things go down, the creators can still weigh in if we refuse to play by their rules.

For example, where you here when Haruka's 2nd Trial vote went down? Because, while I wasn't, I have seen the comments people posted during and after that time period.

That is to say, people were trying really hard to get him to a 50/50 tie stall, thus breaking the system - it was only right near the end that the poll hard shifted towards guilty.

Something similar (but a lot more shitposty) happened with Mikoto's first trial vote, too; apparently, the unspoken consensus was that everyone wanted Mikoto to be exactly 69% guilty (lol, never change folks). But, guess what? Right at the end - small shift towards innocent. Tragically ending The Meme Dream for everyone involved.

For all that we, the audience, are mostly in control of where things end up, the creators are more than willing to step in if we stop playing by their rules or don't take things seriously enough and shift votes one way or another depending.

Which means that all not voting does is put it in the creator's hands to decide - and, in that case, they could end up making the choice that you don't like.

So, for all it can feel icky for us voters to be C'thulu to the characters, depending on your outlook, trying to influence them can still be pretty important.

[natashasnoodle]

Puppy Love | Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

Words: 2.8k

Summary: You and Natasha were the definition of 'opposites attract', sometimes she forgets that until you do something extra cute.

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Your relationship with Natasha was always an odd thing to other people. They never did believe that you were actually dating, you could have a heated makeout session in front of them and they still wouldn't be able to wrap their heads around it. 

It was annoying that for a while you couldn't do coupley things with your girlfriend without people looking as though it was a circus act. Eyes bulging as though they had never seen something so mind-boggling. You learned to understand why they might not have thought of you as a match, but the ogling was a bit much. 

The fearless assassin with... you. A vet nurse that people have described many a time as "a lil' sushi roll". 

You quite literally could never hurt a fly. One time you stood on an ant whilst on a walk with some of the Avengers, and you cried for five minutes. So, when you two eventually revealed that you were an item they couldn't quite believe it. But it was true. 

Natasha loved your childlike outlook on life, something that not many people have. But she also loved the dedication to your work, you were an incredibly smart woman and had aided in saving multiple lives in your job. And you loved how even though Natasha had a hardened exterior, you were one of the few people to see through the cracks, which you thought was a privilege. Underneath the surface was a person with a lot of love to give, and surprisingly a person with a candle obsession. 

Her room was littered with them, it was a wonder that she hadn't burnt the place down yet. 

Yours and Natasha's story was the friends to lovers arc, so you were already familiar with those living in the compound due to having known Natasha for years before you started dating. 

Someone that you had always been incredibly close with was Wanda. You met her right after the tragic loss of her brother, Pietro, and you being you were the only person who could get Wanda to come out of her shell in her initial days with the Avengers. 

From helping her grieve, a friendship was born and she started hanging out with you and Natasha a lot, it was nice that your friendship group of two wasn't so small anymore. It took a while for the two of you to reassure her that she was not intruding and that you were happy for her to join in with the activities and days out that you two do. 

The three of you were the trio of trouble around the compound, Natasha was the more calm one of the bunch, but that didn't mean that she didn't get a kick out of the antics that took place too. 

More often than not, if any of the others who resided in the compound walked into the kitchen, they walked into a bakery bombshell. There would be batter and flour everywhere, spoons and spatulas on the floor, cupcake cases strewn everywhere, dirty equipment making a mountain in the sink, and you three, on the floor. 

The floor was the place that your group thought best to eat the delicious baked goods that you had put time and effort into preparing. You'd all be eating and chatting, blissfully unaware of the hurricane that you had once again brought into everyone else's lives. 

But you were all having fun, and most importantly, so was Wanda. That woman deserved it, the first thought that you had about her after learning about what had happened in Sokovia was 'Man, she needs a hug'. 

After a few months of observing you during your time together, Wanda noticed a closeness between you and Natasha that hadn't been there when she first saw you two together. The new looks that you would give each other, the increase of small touches, texting each other a lot more when you were apart.

So, like a good friend, she stopped hanging out with you and started hanging out with Vision more. You were hurt, but it meant that you got more alone time with Nat, though you did wonder what went wrong, and you missed your friend terribly. 

Both you and Natasha missed her presence when spending time together, and hated how it seemed that Vision monopolised most of her time. But you applauded her for branching out to more people in the compound, it was something you had hoped for, you just hadn't expected it to be at the expense of you.

But you had Natasha, and Natasha had you. Besides, this was how it used to be before Wanda came along.

All of the alone time with the new feelings brewing meant that you inevitably started dating. When Wanda found out she was ecstatic and started calling herself "The Captain of the Ship".

She started hanging out with you two again, but this time split her time with Vision as well. Those two had ultimately also become a pair. 

They were fun to hang out with, the synthezoid's lack of knowledge of basic social skills was often amusing, and he would chuckle along even though he wasn't really aware that you were finding him funny.

For instance, when you had gone out to dinner just the four of you, Vision had started questioning some of the foods on the menu as they had weird themed names, even though he doesn't eat. But he still made that poor waiter explain everything no matter how many times Wanda kicked his ankle and discreetly coughed to get him to shut his metal mouth. 

After everything the waiter finally asked him which one of the food items he would like, to which he promptly responded with his head held high, "Oh no thank you, I don't eat food". Wanda had her head in her hands in embarrassment as you and Nat failed to hold in your laughs at seeing the waiter's face. You had inhaled your sip of water due to you stupidly drinking so that the cup would hide your smile. This resulted in Natasha laughing even more when she had to smack you on the back a few times so that you didn't die. 

Inevitably after you and Natasha had dated for a few months, you moved into the compound. The only negative was that it was a further drive to work, but you got to live with your girlfriend and friends so you didn't really care. 

When your colleagues at work found out that you were dating the Black Widow they were also shocked. When you questioned them about it they all just said "they couldn't see it", which confused you further. 

Sure, you and Natasha were different. But that's what made it so beautiful, if she sat down with someone every day who also had the same external emotional range of a teaspoon and crappy small talk skills, then they wouldn't talk. It would be boring. And if you sat down with someone exactly the same as you then no bills would be paid as you'd keep convincing each other to take the day off to bake a tonne of cookies every day. Opposites attract after all. 

It took months but people eventually got it. They saw how Natasha's eyes would light up when you entered a room, how during team movie nights she would love to hold you unnecessarily close, how seriously she would take looking after you when you were ill, and how she happily did extra loads of laundry because you wore her clothes more than your own, and many more. The list of things that showed how much Natasha cared for you was too long. That woman loved you with her whole heart. 

But, there were still times when you did something that made the team question it again. Like today, when you ran downstairs and skidded across the floor in fluffy socks with a cow pattern, clutching your phone to your chest that was cladded with Natasha's hoodie. The team were all sitting at the table in the kitchen eating breakfast, you were the only one not there due to dealing with a work call.

When you reached Natasha's side she was going to question what had got you all excited so early, but she couldn't get a word in before you started rambling about how the Veterinary practice that you work out was doing an impromptu dog meet and greet with the local shelter to raise money and hopefully get adoptions up, and that you were being called in to help run it that afternoon. 

Natasha looked a bit sad that you were being called into work on a Saturday, but her spirits were immediately lifted when you said you could bring people with you. You had automatically assumed that Natasha would be coming with you, so you turned to Wanda and Vision to see if they wanted to accompany you. 

Natasha immediately scowled and gave you a slap on the arm, thinking that you had told her about being able to go and then immediately inviting other people instead. 

"Hey!", you shouted as you clutched your arm, she forgot her own strength sometimes. At seeing just how pissed off she looked, you tilted your head and concentrated on figuring out what had suddenly got her angry. It took you a few seconds, during which time Natasha's scowl had deepened at seeing you not being able to figure it out, but eventually, it clicked.

She slowly nodded as she saw the answer appear in your eyes, "You were already coming, I just wanted to see if they wanted to tag along!". 

Nat threw her head back slightly in frustration with your shenanigans, before a smile etched itself onto her face and she turned to look back at you looking at her with confusion. "You know you should never assume", she playfully pointed at you before handing you your plate of now cold pancakes and bacon. 

You happily scarfed them down, with a generous serving of maple syrup, and rushed upstairs to get into your scrubs. The three tagging along with you would just be able to go in their normal clothes but to show that you were an employee and just in case an emergency showed up on shift, you needed to be in your work clothes. 

You didn't mind that though, you had a cute rainbow lanyard with black pawprints on, along with merchandise pins of your favourite shows, so you enjoyed an excuse to wear it. 

After getting into your cyan scrubs, you bounded down the stairs in excitement to get to see lots of dogs today. Natasha, Wanda and Vision were waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you, Wanda looked just as excited as you did, the other two were just there to spend more time with their partners. 

After giving Nat a quick peck on the cheek and grabbing her hand, making her blush, not that she would ever admit it, you grabbed your car keys from the side and led the small group out to your car.

Your car was relatively old, Tony had offered to give you one of his cars that he doesn't use, but you couldn't do it. This was your first car, and it still ran beautifully, so you kept it. It looked out of place next to the other cars that the Avengers owned, but it represented you amongst them so you didn't mind.

As you drove, you absentmindedly grabbed Natasha's hand and placed it on the gearstick, placing your hand on top as you continued driving. Once again the great Black Widow blushed, and once again she would never, ever admit it. 

Wanda and Vision made some light conversation from the back that you occasionally made a funny comment to, but you mostly focused on your driving, it was Saturday and New York City, so the traffic warranted you to put your undivided attention onto the road. 

Forty painful minutes later, you arrived at work. It was only painful due to the other drivers on the road who kept trying to cut you off at every opportunity, the company was great. 

You marvelled at how the car park had been transformed into a charity drive. There were loads of kennel staff there with the different dogs, and even though it had just started the place was teeming with people. This was of course good, donations would go up, dogs would get adopted if the humans passed the screening process, and there was always the opportunity that the practice would get more customers. Win-win all around. 

After giving the place a short once over, you told your girlfriend and friends that you just needed to go into the building quickly to clock in and make sure that the emergency station was prepared. Hopefully, it wouldn't have to be used today but you could never be underprepared when it came to that.

In the meantime, Nat and Vision tailed behind Wanda who was making sure to bend down and give every dog a good head rub. Vision didn't really understand why she was getting so excited over giving the pups scratches but he liked how Wanda looked happy.

Natasha gave smiles at all of the dogs but wasn't too interested in giving them belly rubs like Wanda was, she was more of a cat person. If this was a cat charity drive then she would be trying not to lose her mind from a cuteness overdose. But with the dogs, for her, it was pretty easy to keep herself at bay. 

She was glad to see you when you made your way over with a couple of work friends who were also working today's shift, she came to be with you after all.

You gave her a big smile as you walked towards her and started gushing over all of the dogs here as you walked forward to give the cutest golden retriever you had ever seen a tiny nose boop before he jumped on you and attacked your face with slobbery dog kisses. 

Natasha found the sight absolutely disgusting, why would anyone want dog slobber on your face? But she couldn't help but chuckle a bit herself when she heard your giggles as you tried to free yourself from your fluffy attacker. 

She watched you as you interacted with the dogs and worked, helping people fill out adoption forms, you were clearly in your element and she loved it. You had a way of talking to the visitors and getting them excited about being donors to the various charities and kennels that you were hosting today. 

The passion you had for your job clearly shone through.

After about half an hour of work and play with Natasha standing by your side, your colleague called you over to see a tiny puppy that had just woken up, so you dragged your group with you as you gently took her out of your coworker's hands. "She looks just like a little mashed potato ball, don't you?", you cooed as you moved your hands to support all of the puppy's tiny limbs and support her little belly.

You bounced your hands up and down gently with the puppy in your arms to keep her in a docile state as you made gushing noises over how cute she was. The three you were with couldn't help but beam at how you were handling the cute puppy. 

However, Natasha very quickly noticed that a lot of other people were looking at you as well, smiling at the sight, including some young women who appeared to be alone. Her face immediately hardened as she saw the way that they were looking at you. 

Of course, you didn't notice, you were just too focused on the tiny baby in your arms. But Natasha couldn't take it anymore as more people turned to see what people had stopped to look at. "Your cuteness is making everyone stare. Stop it".

You looked up and smiled at some of the people who were indeed looking in your direction, you felt a bit shy from all of the attention, but you just pouted a bit at Natasha before looking back down at the potato dog. "Come on Nat give her ears some little scritches", you held your arms out slightly but without risking dropping her. 

Nat quirked an eyebrow as she looked at the dog in your hands and hesitated, but seeing the look on your face she carefully started petting the dog's head. She was very clumsy with her movements, you wondered if she had ever petted a dog before, but a moment later her eyes were shining and the smile on her face showed pure joy. 

She got more confident with what she was doing and moved her hands down to pat her back, and you just stared in awe at how your girlfriend was melting into a puddle of adoration at this pup. You called it a pupple. 

Yeah, she was definitely coming home with you all. Nat practically dragged you to fill out the adoption screening papers with Wanda giggling in the background, and you had never been happier.

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Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @diaryoflife

[ladyartemesia]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader

Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...

Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut

Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers

Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi

Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •

Acknowledgements:

To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.

To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 

To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 

To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 

Please Picture This Taehyung:

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”

“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”

Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 

“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”

The man in question shifted uncomfortably.

“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”

“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”

Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 

“You RECORDED IT?!”

Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”

“He did WHAT?!”

Your mother winced. 

“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”

“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”

Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 

“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”

Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 

“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”

The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 

“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 

“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”

Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 

You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 

For now.

“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 

For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 

“Kim Taehyung.”

You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 

“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”

The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 

“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”

“I could pay you more.”

“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”

“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”

If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.

“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”

Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.

“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 

“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 

“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”

The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 

However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 

Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 

Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 

In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  

Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 

The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 

“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 

He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 

“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”

Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 

He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 

That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 

In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 

But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 

A woman. 

Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 

Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 

Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 

Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 

His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 

“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”

And just like that the brat was back. 

Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 

“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 

Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 

“Of course not,” he chuckled.

The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 

Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 

You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 

“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”

“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 

“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”

“Harkins?”

“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”

Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 

“Okay... What about Kang?” 

“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 

“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”

“She was about to grab your ass.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s eighty-five!”

“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”

“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 

“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”

Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 

“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 

You shrugged. 

“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”

“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”

The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 

Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 

“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”

“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”

Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 

“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 

“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 

A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 

“I can think of several women who might disagree.”

He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 

“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”

“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 

“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”

It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 

It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 

The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 

“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 

“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”

Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 

It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 

“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”

Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 

Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 

An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 

“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 

Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 

“Sir?”

“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”

“You want me to what?!” 

“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 

Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 

1 New Message from: Jungkook

Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 

Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 

You picked up on the fourth ring. 

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”

“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”

“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”

“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”

The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 

“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”

He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 

“Are you alone?”

You snorted. 

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

Taehyung saw red. 

“I’m coming over.”

There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 

“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”

“With who?!”

“With myself, you idiot!”

“Prove it!”

“Fine! I will!”

The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

He almost choked on his tongue. 

You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  

At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…

A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 

You were exquisite. 

A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 

Desire. 

Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 

I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 

Your head tilted in confusion. 

There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-

Oh NO.

You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 

… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 

Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 

“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”

Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 

“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”

“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”

“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 

“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”

Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 

PARK ANGEL TRADES ONE CORPORATE HEIR FOR ANOTHER AT MIN GALA

WHO WILL WIN THE PARK ANGEL’S HEART? KIM TAEHYUNG OR MIN YOONGI? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS

NEW ROMANCE ALERT? PARK ANGEL LEAVES JOSEON BALL WITH MIN SCION 

“The Park Angel?” 

“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 

“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”

As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 

“This is a flaming disaster.”

“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”

“Which one was that?!” 

“It’s right under the MAN DOWN: PARK ANGEL LEAVES KIM TAEHYUNG HEARTBROKEN headline.”

Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 

“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”

“She has. Twice.”

“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”

“No.”

“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”

“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”

After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 

By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).

You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 

Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 

Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 

Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 

“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 

Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-

He peeked again.

I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 

“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 

The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.

You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 

The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 

For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...

Taehyung was laughing. 

You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 

But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 

Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 

“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 

Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...

Almost. 

“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 

Disaster struck at dinner. 

Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 

The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—

Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 

Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 

“I-I need—” 

It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 

“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 

“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 

“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”

“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 

At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 

You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 

“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”

Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 

“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”

The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 

“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”

You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.

“Why won’t this—”

His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 

“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 

You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 

There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 

“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”

He blinked. Twice. 

“I’m sorry—What did you just—”

“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”

He gulped. 

His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.

This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—

Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 

(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 

You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 

Oh.

His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 

Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 

“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 

Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 

You were so warm.

So soft...

“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 

His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 

“Hold on to me.”  

You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 

You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 

Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...

“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 

He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 

“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”

You drew in a final steadying breath. 

“Do it.”

He nodded. 

“One… Two… Three—”

Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 

Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 

The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 

And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 

It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—

“... Is… everything alright here?”

You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 

Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 

He gulped again. 

“I can explain.” 

It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 

Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 

Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 

Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 

Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 

His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 

Just like you.

He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 

Lies.

… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 

Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 

The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 

1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 

I made it home safely. 

Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 

To: Park Gremlin

I require proof… like last time. 

He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 

You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 

And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-

The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 

His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-

And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.

At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 

same mirror.

Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 

The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 

He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 

 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”

Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 

1 New Message from: Kim Grinch

Green is my favorite color. 

“WHERE IS HE—”

Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 

Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 

“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”

Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 

“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”

Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 

“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”

Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 

KIM HEIR AND PARK ANGEL CAUSE AN OLD-FASHIONED SCANDAL AT VICTORIAN BALL

FORGET MISTLETOE: KIM TAEHYUNG DISCOVERED UNDER THE PARK ANGEL AT CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION

NAUGHTY NOEL? PARK ANGEL’S STEAMY AFFAIR WITH CORPORATE PRINCE 

PARK ANGEL TOPS KIM TAEHYUNG’S CHRISTMAS TREE

He winced a bit at that last one. 

“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”

“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 

Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 

“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”

Taehyung sighed heavily. 

“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”

“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 

“WHAT?!” 

���NO! Mother! Oh my—”

“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”

Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 

“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”

Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 

“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 

“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 

He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 

Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 

You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 

Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 

Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 

Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 

“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.

“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 

“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”

The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 

For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 

Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 

Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 

It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 

“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”

The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 

“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”

“I avoided them.”

I avoided you. 

Milo nodded. 

“I—I figured.” 

He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 

“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”

“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”

“Excuse me.” 

You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 

“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 

You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 

“No—please if you just give me a minute—”

“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

Milo’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”

Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 

“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”

Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 

“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 

After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 

“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”

Taehyung laughed. 

“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 

You grinned. 

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 

(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 

“I wish I could forget about Milo.”

“... Are you still in love with him?” 

The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 

“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”

Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 

“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”

you. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 

“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”

Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 

“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”

Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 

“I should kill him.”

You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 

“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”

“He has good instincts.”

“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”

“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”

It would be so easy to care for you. 

“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”

You nodded. 

“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”

The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 

“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”

“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”

“... Like you?” 

The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 

Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 

“What’s going on, guys?”

You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 

Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 

“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”

Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 

“Where is he?”

“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 

The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 

The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 

Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 

His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 

“You look like a vampire.”

Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 

You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 

If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 

Still…

Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 

“I think I’m offended.”

“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 

“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”

You shrugged playfully. 

“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”

A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 

This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 

Lord have mercy. 

“Of course not,” he coughed. 

“You’re what?!”

You rolled your eyes.

Tonight had been going rather well. 

The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...

Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 

“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”

“Does your brother know about this?!”

“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 

“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”

“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”

You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 

“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”

“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”

Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 

“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”

“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”

His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 

“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”

Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 

“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 

Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 

After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.

Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 

Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 

Then it was your turn. 

“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”

“Ten thousand.”

Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 

“Eleven thousand.”

“Twelve thousand.”

“Fifteen.”

“Sixteen thousand dollars.”

“Seventeen thousand.”

“Eighteen.”

Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 

“Twenty thousand.”

“Twenty-five thousand.”

“Thirty thousand!”

At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 

Milo.

Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 

“Forty thousand.”

Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 

You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 

No. 

Milo was still bidding. 

“Fifty thousand dollars.”

Not her. 

“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.

She’s mine. 

Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 

“One hundred thousand dollars!” 

The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 

Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 

The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 

And hope. 

Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 

His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 

You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—

Yet you never dared hope for it. 

However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 

For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 

Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…

But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 

It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 

The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 

“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 

Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”

“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“Do you want to see?” 

Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 

You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—

Then he nodded...

And you both were lost. 

Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 

Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 

“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 

He bit back a moan. 

“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You nodded. 

“Kiss it better.”

Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 

This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 

He knew he shouldn’t—

but he could never deny you. 

“Of course.”

You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 

It was for you. 

He wanted you. 

Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 

Touch me… please. 

Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 

Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 

“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 

Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.

Sweet merciful heavens. 

Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 

You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 

The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 

“T-Tae—”

Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—

He was marking you. 

And you wanted it. 

Oh how you wanted it. 

Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.

“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 

You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 

“Speak up.”  

“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 

“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”

Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—

“Madame. We’ve arrived.”

The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 

Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 

Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 

Did we just...

You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 

1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈

I need to know you made it safely to your room. 

You grinned. 

Greedy boy. 

Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.

Taehyung growled in frustration. 

She would be a tease. 

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 

He shook his head. 

I have officially gone insane. 

The phone buzzed again. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Well… We can’t have that can we… 

Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 

Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 

The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 

He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

To: Angel 🤬🥵😅

That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel

The screen lit up again almost immediately. 

1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅

Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...

Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.

“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”

Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 

“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”

“I need to talk to him now.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”

Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 

“I know he’s up there.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”

“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 

Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 

“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”

“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”

The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 

A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 

“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”

“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”

Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG IF MY SISTER IS IN THAT ROOM—”

He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 

“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”

“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”

Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 

“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”

“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”

Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”

“Oh… Well.”

Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 

“He has to come down eventually.”

“One would think.”

The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 

"I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE, KIM TAEHYUNG, YOU PHILANDERING SLEAZE BAG!" 

Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 

“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”

“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”

Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 

“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”

Jimin stopped struggling. 

“Oh?”

Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 

“He’s gone, sir.”

“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”

“However…”

“... However?”

“I had to give him your spa passes.”

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”

“It’s complimentary, sir.”

The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 

Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 

“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”

Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 

“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”

The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 

Both men winced. 

“I think that was your grandmother’s.”

Taehyung sighed. 

“I admit there have been… some developments.”

Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 

“... Such as?”

Taehyung gulped. 

“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”

“There may have been? Are you not sure?”

Taehyung colored guiltily. 

“Well—”

“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook grinned. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 

“Things have… escalated a bit.”

“Escalated how?”

I licked her tit in the back of a limo.

“Physically.”

It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 

“That’s… shocking.”

“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 

A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.

“So what are you going to do, sir?”

Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 

“I honestly have no idea.”

Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  

Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 

Your dress tonight was deadly. 

It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 

Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 

Oh help. 

Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 

So he didn’t say anything at all. 

Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—

And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”

The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 

Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 

“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”

“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 

She is definitely trying to kill me. 

“Should I be worried?”

Now it was your turn to grin. 

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 

But it was well worth the price of admission.

Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 

It was like stepping into a fairytale. 

Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 

You were breathtaking.  

“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”

The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 

“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”

Your eyes widened. 

“N-nephew?”

Taehyung shrugged. 

“I don’t really talk about it much.” 

The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 

“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”

“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”

“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”

You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 

The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 

“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”

Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 

Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 

All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...

Until she showed up. 

“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”

Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”

“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”

Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 

Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.

“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”

Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 

“Yes. Of course. This is—”

“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”

“His date,” you deadpanned. 

“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”

“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”

Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 

“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”

Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 

Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 

“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”

Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 

“Some other time perhaps.” 

Aubrey pouted prettily. 

“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 

“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”

“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”

“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 

“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 

“Aubrey... Listen I—”

She cut him off with a finger to his lips.

“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”

He grinned. 

“Never.”

The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.

“What a shame.”

Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 

“You know what I don’t understand?”

You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 

“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”

The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 

Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.

“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”

Oh he’s good. 

You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”

Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 

“Couldn’t be me.”

You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 

Alas. 

You tilted your head speculatively. 

Surely there was no need to brush away good company...

After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 

“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”

Yoongi held out his hand. 

“I’d be delighted.”

Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  

Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you

—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 

It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 

Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 

Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 

“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”

Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 

“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”

“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”

You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine

“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 

Oh boy. 

Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 

You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 

This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 

You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 

Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 

Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 

“Are you alright?”

His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 

You glared. 

“Just fine, thank you.”

A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  

On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”

You nodded sharply. 

Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 

Yet you made no move to stop him. 

You should have. 

You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—

But you didn’t. 

So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 

You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 

“T-Taehyung—” 

“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).

“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.

You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 

However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head

“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 

Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 

You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 

Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 

“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”

Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 

Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.

It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 

“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 

At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 

“Ms. Park, are you well?”

Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 

“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”

“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”

Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.

Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 

There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 

“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 

Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 

When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—

just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 

Emotions were a funny thing. 

They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 

And occasionally eroded your common sense. 

Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 

His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 

His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 

His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 

It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 

Frustration—

I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!

Rage—  

Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 

Jealousy—

You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 

But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 

You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 

He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...

But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 

Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 

Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 

And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—

Emotion became action.

“Mind if I cut in?”

It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 

“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”

Your mouth dropped open. 

“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”

Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”

Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 

“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”

The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 

“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”

“I did!”

“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”

“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”

“But—”

“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”

“You didn’t come after me!”

“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”

“Really? Well what else did she grab?”

Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 

People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 

Well that’s great. 

Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.

“What are you doing?”

“Continuing this discussion in private.”

“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 

“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”

Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 

The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 

After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 

You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 

On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.

However—

The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 

Reflection suite indeed. 

The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.

“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”

“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”

“Then why did you take us here?”

“Because you were shouting—”

“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”

Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 

He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 

But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 

He had to kiss you then. 

You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 

The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 

Finally. 

Everything was him. 

Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 

“Taehyung—”

His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—

Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 

“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”

Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.

Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 

But not today. 

The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.

“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.

“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 

“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 

He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.

It was so so good. 

“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”

If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 

But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 

“Yes!” you sobbed.

The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.

Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 

“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”

His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 

“You’ve been saying that for years.” 

“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 

Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.

“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 

Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.

“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”

His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 

“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”

The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 

After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 

“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 

Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”

The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 

“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.

“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”

You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.

“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 

You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.

“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 

Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 

You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 

Almost. 

"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”

Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 

"Please—" you whispered.

"Please who?" 

Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 

"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 

He grinned. 

“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”

Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 

Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 

Underneath a giant mirror. 

The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-

And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 

It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 

Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 

Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 

“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”

The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 

The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—

You shattered. 

And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 

Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 

The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 

Then he was kissing you again. 

It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.

You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 

Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 

“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.

You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 

He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 

It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.

“Of course,” you muttered. 

The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.

“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”

“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 

“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 

After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 

“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 

You gasped against him and he smiled. 

“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”

You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 

“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 

His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 

“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”

Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 

The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 

Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 

After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 

“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”

His praise was addictive. 

You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 

It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 

Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—

Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 

Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.

“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 

The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 

“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”

You did. 

You wanted it so so bad. 

“Please.”

Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 

“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”

“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”

He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 

Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 

There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 

Then your world caught fire. 

Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 

Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—

Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 

The feel of him was indescribable. 

You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 

He was bloomin’ magnificent. 

Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 

“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”

“Yes—”

Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.

He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 

You were his. 

And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 

Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.

He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—

This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 

And now… he couldn’t look away. 

The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.

Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 

“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”

Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 

“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.

“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 

The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 

Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 

Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 

He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   

“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 

Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 

“Tae! Ah-ahh!”

The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—

“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.

And then you flew apart. 

Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 

“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”

“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 

“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”

“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 

“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 

Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 

“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 

The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.

“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 

His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 

"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”

The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 

He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 

“KIM TAEHYUNG!”

The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  

His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—

The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 

“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”

Then he frowned. 

“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”

Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 

“Kendra.”

Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—

And insanely gorgeous. 

Taehyung groaned. 

Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 

To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.

KIM HEIR BRINGS NAUGHTY ANGEL HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 

One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 

“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”

“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”

“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”

“I’ll kill you.”

“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 

“Why should I wait?!”

“Because—”

“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”

“The situation is just not that simple.” 

“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”

“Admittedly not my finest hour.”

“So you tell me right now—”

“But you don’t understand it’s—”

“—Why the hell would I wait?!”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH HER!”

For a moment there was absolute silence. 

Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 

“Really?”

Jimin’s mouth fell open. 

Taehyung groaned again. 

“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.

“Are you really in love with me?”

“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 

“That’s not the same thing!”

“It is for me!”

A radiant smile lit up your face. 

“I’m in love with you too.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. 

“Angel I—”

Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.

“Oh! No no no—Come on!”

He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 

“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 

“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 

This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 

If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.

I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

hi, i just wanted to say i loved your charles oneshot :) i was wondering if you could do an enemies to lovers w/ daniel ricciardo? thanks!

DANIEL RICCIARDO ONESHOT

TEMPORARY STRANGERS

( WARNING: swearing, alcohol, blood/injury, little bit of fluff/angst? )

word count: 5.4k

< this is my attempted version lol >

You’d debated whether or not to go to Theo’s party. For one, it was on a Thursday night, which, in itself, was rather tragic for a party thrown for an adult because surely he had to have thought that most people would be working on a Thursday night? Secondly, you had an early shift at the hospital in the morning, so you weren't sure if staying at a party fit for Blair Waldorf for a couple of hours was entirely worth your presence.

But, after a persuasive conversation on the phone — in which Theo spent the majority of it begging you to make an appearance — you’d caved and now you found yourself standing in the middle of a kitchen sipping on a lemonade, expertly avoiding everyone’s eyes and wondering why you agreed to come in the first place.

The apartment was a large, luxurious one, decked from head to toe in pricey decorations and with an open-plan layout. You even had half the mind to compare it to what you imagined a Royal Palace looked like.

In other words, it was big and incredibly tasteful and fancy, in the most annoying way possible.

Then again, Theo did own a successful Estate Agency, which specialized heavily in selling buildings in the centre of London. The money pooled from that spoke for itself, and it also meant that since university he’d met people in all aspects of his work, all of which looked like they’d been invited to his party, which unfortunately meant you didn’t know anyone, and the couple that you did, you had absolutely zero intentions of actually talking to them.

The guests themselves were glamorous, dressed to the nines and decked with expensive watches and jewellery, and you felt out of place wearing your best dress with your favourite high-tops and a blazer.

On another note, the lemonade and food were delicious. It was almost as if he’d hired a private caterer and then shoved them out of the back door before people started arriving.

“You know, I didn’t think you meant it when you said you’d come.” A smooth voice knocked you out of your reverie, and you whirled around, hastily swallowing the lemonade when you noticed the familiar blonde that you’d befriended in uni.

“I didn’t think I did either if that makes a difference.” You replied, biting the inside of your cheek as Theo rolled his eyes, making his way around the kitchen island to place a couple of collected empty glasses near the sink.

“Well, are you having fun?” He asked, leaning back against the counter next to you, his shoulder judging yours teasingly.

You hummed, narrowing your eyes, “Not as much fun as when you crashed my Grandparents party and scared away the boy they tried to set me up with, let’s just leave it at that.” You breathed a laugh, swirling the lemonade in your cup as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing.

“Oh, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” He said, his attention turning to the other partygoers in the near vicinity, his eyebrow raising as he spotted someone trying to sneak one of his clocks into their bags without being caught. It didn’t work; they saw his gaze and turned a suspicious shade of red and pretended as if they’d simply been admiring the thing before walking away.

Theo cleared his throat, adjusting his tie.

“I think I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, his finger pointing in the direction of the culprit, an apologetic look in his eyes. You nodded, breathing a short laugh in understanding.

“I think I’m going to head out anyway—”

“Oh, please stay.” He held out a hand, silently begging for you to stay.

You hadn’t seen each other in at least a couple of months because of clashes with schedules, and it was getting to the point where the odd texts and phone calls and video calls were starting to feel more like a chore than a privilege. You had been close friends for the best part of ten years now, and you were still close, but adult life was more difficult than you expected trying to balance relationships and work.

You breathed in deeply, eyes flashing around the guests, accidentally catching the eye of Daniel and flicking your attention back to Theo hastily.

“I’ll stay for now but I’m going home in an hour, I have an early shift in the morning.” You promised, offering a small smile as Theo nodded, returning the gesture before disappearing into the throwing of people.

It wasn’t long before you were approached by an unfamiliar face. She was — like all the other people in the room — dressed nicely, and she stumbled slightly in her heels, almost running into you.

“Oh, shit, sorry about that.” She muttered, and you could smell the faint, bitter scent of alcohol on her breath, indicating that she wasn’t completely sober.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You reassured, asking if she wanted something else to drink, seeing as though you were standing next to the drinks table and the fridge.

She shook her head, instead resuming Theo’s place against the counter next to you.

“Do you see that man over there?” She whispered, pointing her finger in the direction of the crowd out in the living area.

You furrowed your eyes, trying to lean slightly to make sure you could see who she was pointing at.

“I think you’re gonna have to be more specific because there’s about thirty people in that general direction.” You said, resisting the urge to laugh as the woman sighed, shuffling closer to the group and standing in her heeled tiptoes to see over the sea of heads.

“Okay, so he’s about 6 foot, brunette, curly hair…” she snuck a glance at you out of the corner of her eye to make sure you were trying to look out for the person she was talking about, “really fit and has an Italian nose.” She concluded.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling quite awkward in the presence of a stranger. You averted your eyes back to the pile of drinks on the kitchen island and halted your actions in searching for who could only be Daniel Ricciardo.

She noticed your reaction and gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth as if you just spilled the hottest gossip of the season.

“You know him.” She stated, stepping back slightly with an accusatory shine in her eyes.

“I don’t know him, I just know of him.” You lied, trying to brush the topic off as subtly as possible.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, taking your arm and ignoring the cry of protest from your lips as she dragged you away from the kitchen area and into the heart of the party, where the chatter was significantly louder, “I don’t believe that. You can introduce us.” She insisted.

You dug your heels into the floor as best as you could, trying to push away the wave of panic that surged through your veins.

“Lady,” you started, ripping your arm out of her iron grip, “I don’t know him.” You reiterated.

“If you don’t know him, how can you know of him?” She enquired snarkily, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow in your direction.

“How can you not know of him?” You returned, shrugging. Her face remained blank, and it occurred to you she really didn’t know who Daniel was. “That’s Daniel Ricciardo. Formula 1 driver for McLaren this year.” You told her, straightening out your blazer uncomfortably, unaware of the eyes on you from the other side of the room.

“Formula 1? So he’s, like…a millionaire?” She licked her lips,sultry eyes slipping over the crowd and fixating on who you assumed to be Daniel.

You cringed, resisting the urge to turn your nose up at her. You suddenly regretted telling her about his career because even a blind man could see that his money was the main thing on her mind at that moment in time.

You neglected from answering her question, instead trying to slink back to the kitchen, but you were interrupted by the scuffle of feet and the sound of something shattering before an obvious cry of pain was heard throughout the room, nearly drowned out in the volume of the music pumping from the speakers.

You swivelled back around, and several people had stepped away from the scene leaving an open gap in the crowd as more people gathered around to see what the kerfuffle was.

The girl had disappeared seemingly into thin air and you were about to take the moment of peace as an opportunity to leave, but Theo’s voice called your name over the crowd, laced with urgency.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, heart pounding with anxiety at the panic in his voice. You made your way to the crowd, apologising to people as you pushed your way through to get to the centre of all the attention.

As soon as you edged into Theo’s vision, he dragged you by the elbow into the centre, pointing to the person who’s cry of pain was heard over the music.

Blood was dripping from a deep gash in the palm of their hand, and the person in question looked a little pale, holding their hand up above their head, a permanent wince etched onto their face. Despite that, they looked rather uncomfortable with all the attention, and it was this that caused Theo to turn to the crowd and usher them away.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Theo informed you, and you wasted no time in helping the injured person raise their arm higher above their head, guiding them through the crowd with a secure arm around their waist.

“A cut on my hand doesn’t hinder my ability to walk, okay?” They tried, shifting out of your grip.

“No, but if you pass out, it hinders my ability to patch you up.” You retorted, hurriedly passing your glass of lemonade back to Theo.

The person let a weak, sarcastic huff pass their lips, but they let you guide them to the bathroom, keeping an eye on the blood dripping down their arm and creeping into the sleeve of their blazer.

“Toilet or tub?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind you and casting a weary glance back at their hand.

“Depends on the context.” They answered.

You rolled your eyes, settling them on the toilet and quickly rifling through the sink cupboards, locating the first aid kit with ease.

“I’m gonna need you to take off your blazer.” You said, never imagining that you’d say those words to Daniel Ricciardo of all people.

Your relationship with Daniel was weird to say the least. You first met at — surprise, surprise — Theo’s party a few years ago. You’d gotten along swimmingly, perhaps a little bit too well, and it was safe to say he was incredibly charming and cursed with good looks. You were quite good friends, actually.

Until one day he pulled a face at you when you approached him at an award’s evening of some sort. You’d got no idea what happened to elicit such a negative reaction, or any idea on what you could have done, but he’d sneered at you and turned around, making conversation with the person next to you. He’d never explained why, but ever since that day he’d ignored you as much as possible, and it wasn’t exactly hard not to enjoy his company when he was so obviously disgusted with your presence.

Maybe it was the fact that you only managed to snag one piece of cake that night.

“You want a striptease? At least take me out for a date, first.” He muttered, pressing his lips together in obvious discomfort as he peeled his blazer off, being cautious of the blood. “I don’t even know why you’re bothering with this anyway, I’m fine.” He insisted.

You perched yourself on the edge of the bath, placing your bag on the tiled flooring and zipping open the first aid kit.

“Dan, you’re dripping blood…you’re clearly not fine.” You muttered, carefully rolling his shirt sleeve up past his elbow, ignoring the fact that this was the first time in a long time you’d been this close to him. Ignoring the fact that he looked positively fine in a suit, minus the blood.

He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and shifting uncomfortably under your touch.

You turned his hand over, assessed the gash and winced, trying to ignore the tingling, uncomfortable sensation mirrored on your own palm as your eyes ran over the gash. It ran the width of his palm, and it didn’t take a genius to notice that it was quite deep in some places.

“Can we please be quick?” He sighed, his other hand smoothing out non-existent creases in his dress trousers.

You hated to admit it, but his words stung.

“Can you at least pretend like you don’t hate me, for fifteen minutes at least?” You said, an unintentional fierceness to your tone, one that you’d tried your best to dial down in his presence, but it seemed to no avail.

“Only if you do the same.” He muttered, and you took the liberty of ignoring his comment, reaching to fish an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit, gently dabbing at the edges to clean off some blood so you could see the extent of the damage. You flexed his hand, ignoring his hiss of pain as the cut stretched slightly.

“What was that for?” He asked, his free hand slapping your hand as he fought to take his cut up hand out of your grip.

You opened your mouth in surprise, the skin on your own hand stinging slightly with the sudden contact.

“Don’t slap me! I’m trying to make sure you don’t have glass in it, you twat.” You said, shaking your head, “Which it doesn’t, by the way, so you’re welcome for checking.”

“How did you even know to check for glass?”

“Because there was broken glass on the floor?” You answered, applying pressure to the wound and lifting his hand a little higher again.

He huffed, turning his face away from you, so he was facing the wall, his lip curling into a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “What did you mean when you said ‘only if you do the same’, anyway?” You murmured, keeping one hand on the wound and reaching to the floor to pick up your bag and unclip the front.

He narrowed his eyes, watching you root around in your bag for something, and he was about to say something, before he was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Everything ok in there? Everyone still alive?” Theo’s muffled voice echoed into the room.

“We’re fine.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel grimaced, brown eyes burning through the door as if he was trying to send a telepathic message to Theo through the door.

“Good.” Was all Theo said before the full sound of his shoes against the wooden veneers could be heard on the other side of the door.

You hummed in delight, producing the very thing you were originally looking for in your bag.

“Haribo?” Daniel asked, raising his brows expectantly.

“To get your blood sugar levels up, you’re still pale.” You answered, ripping open the packet, and just as you were about to pour the sweets into Daniel’s outstretched hand, you paused, recoiling.

“What?” He asked, noticeably frustrated that he wasn’t scoffing the sweets.

“Why don’t you like me?” You questioned, biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously as he stared straight at you, his face expressionless.

He was quiet for a while, and you almost told him to forget you even said anything because the simple question looked like it hit home, but he opened his mouth, quickly closing it again. He looked at you from behind furrowed brows, apparently confused by your question.

“Why don’t I like you?” He repeated the question. “Why don’t you like me?”

You gaped at him, your cheeks flushing with irritation at his words.

“I don’t—I never—” you sighed in frustration, the hand clutching the packet of Haribo clenching unconsciously as Daniel looked at you with mild concern, “Why the hell would you think I don’t like you?”

He blinked, casting his sights back to the wall, ignoring your eye contact.

“Theo told me you, and I quote, ‘hate me’,” he answered, swallowing roughly as you continued to stare at him.

His discomfort under your gaze brought a sick sense of satisfaction, but at the same time you were having difficulty wrapping your head around what he’d just admitted.

“Theo? My Theo?” You clarified, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“When did he tell you that?” Your heart was starting to hammer in your rib cage, the power of which was almost painful to endure.

“When we went clubbing a while back,” he shrugged.

“Why would he—?” You muttered, before turning back to Daniel. “Are you sure he said that?”

“Positive.”

“So you’ve been so hostile towards me for months now, all because of something someone else said to you in a dark, loud club when you were — let’s face it — probably drunk?”

Daniel sucked in his cheeks, now realising how there would have been so many chances for misunderstanding in such an environment.

“Yes…” he replied, dragging the word out slowly, trying his best to take his mind off the way your grip on his wound was slowly increasing.

“I never said I hate—”

“So…you don’t not like me?” He interrupted, his eyes wide.

“No…Yes…I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that, but I never hated you.” You said, ducking your head down at his intense glare, instead turning your attention back to his bleeding hand, carefully peeling off the gauze to take a peak. You suddenly remembered the scrunched up packet of Haribo still clutched in your grasp, and you shoved it in Daniel’s direction, not bothering to even look at him when he took it, humming quietly in thanks.

He didn’t know how to respond to that, the revelation sending his mind spinning about a hundred different directions.

He was mad at Theo, even if what happened wasn’t entirely his fault, but he was mostly mad at himself for not even bothering to try to talk to you and hash it out. The months he spent trying to ignore you were completely miserable, and the worst part is, he put you through hell without even giving you any reason, and all of that ignorance was not even worth it…that is, if what you said was true.

“Oh.” Was all he said, taking to watching you strap up his hand after telling him he (thankfully) didn’t need stitches, but he did need to rest it for a while, which was probably for the best because the F1 Summer Break was currently in full swing.

Once you’d put the soaked gauze in the bin and tidied everything away to how you’d arrived before the bloodbath ensued, you stood up, brushing nonexistent dirt off your dress, and offered Daniel a rather confused smile.

He bit his lip in thought, your eyes unconsciously zipping to his mouth, before steering your gaze back up to his eyes when he caught you, raising his eyebrow slightly, a pale shade of pink tinting his cheeks as he fought back a smirk.

You turned away, looking at the door, which was very much tempting you at that moment in time.

He cleared his throat once he’d noticed your attention flicker away from him, and it was only then he registered he practically craved you to be looking at him. Whenever he was at functions with Theo, he would always unknowingly search for you, even when he thought you hated his guts, he’d still scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces in the hopes that he’d see you again.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously, feeling your eyes on him. It was as if he’d suddenly melted into a teenager again right beneath your eyes. He cleared his throat again, sinking back against the toilet in an attempt to make himself smaller at the revelation he’d just arrived at.

It was weird, seeing him so shy when he was naturally such an outgoing character.

You found a part of your brain secretly admiring his flustering, but you quickly shut that down, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be having those thoughts, especially since you’d just had to mop up a slice on his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go grab a drink and join the fray.” You said, hating the way your voice sounded so small against the echoing walls of the bathroom tiles.

Daniel snapped his eyes to yours, holding them intently, slightly alarmed at your words.

The last thing he wanted was for you to leave him; call it soppy, but he wanted to make up for lost time as soon as he possibly could, and he knew there would be very few opportunities considering both your careers were so demanding.

“Um…” he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I just want to say, thanks for all of this.” He gestured down to his hand, and you smiled.

“No problem. Just…stay away from broken glass for a bit and you should be fine.” You mumbled, words not registering in your brain as Daniel breathed a small laugh, looking utterly starstruck and sad at the same time.

“I’ll try my best.”

You offered one last smile, checking you still had your bag, and without another word you slipped out of the bathroom door, hearing the handle click behind you.

You could still hear the thumping remnants of the party in the next room, and without really caring who you bumped into along the way, you made a beeline for the kitchen, filling up a plastic wine glass with the nearest spirit and downing it as quickly as possible. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, immediately feeling guilty because of the early shift, and hurried to fill the glass back up with water, trying your best to dispel the effects of alcohol before they even had an impact.

It seemed to work.

Your head was spinning, unrelated to the liquids you’d just absorbed, but because of the bathroom fiasco that had just occurred only moments prior.

You were that caught up in your own thoughts, trying to separate fact from fiction and thought from feeling, that you completely missed the very brunette on your mind stride past the kitchen and into the living area, looking like a man on a mission as he tried to seek out Theo.

It didn’t take him long, he just had significantly more trouble trying to shake off a blonde that refused to let go of his arm, and he found Theo leant against a table, looking worn out, his mind absent from reality.

In the time it took for you to patch Daniel up, it looked as if Theo had faced a war and somehow escaped.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, hand clapping into Theo’s shoulder in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

He jumped, immediately relaxing when he registered just who was standing in front of him.

“I’m fine, but if that…person over there takes another step towards my Grandma, he’s not going to know what hit him.” He answered, finger pointing at a rather suspicious looking man.

“I don’t see a Grandma anywhere.” Daniel pointed out, slightly concerned.

Theo rolled his eyes, as if he’d had to answer the question a million times already, “She’s the purple one on the mantelpiece.” He muttered, taking a swig of whatever was in his glass.

Daniel nodded, feeling guilty for even bringing up the topic, but the completely detached behaviour from Theo was giving him a hard time in focusing on what he actually came over to do.

“Sorry about that, mate.” He apologised, breathing in deeply.

Theo shrugged.

“Anyway, does Y/N still have the same phone number or did she change it?” Daniel questioned, attempting to pretend like the question wasn’t that big of a deal by shrugging and avoiding making eye contact with Theo, but the raise of the eyebrow and curious, piercing blue stare proved that his attempt was futile.

“I knew you still liked her.” Theo chuckled.

“Am I that transparent?” Daniel quipped, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“Only for me.” Theo grinned, patting Daniel’s cheek.

Daniel pulled a face, swiping Theo’s hand away.

“But no, she’s still got the same number. Why’d you ask?”

Daniel shrugged, already backing away, attention flickering around the room, once again searching for something — the action of which didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who positively cackled inside, “Just curious.”

“If curious means ‘I-fucked-up-with-a-really-good-person-big-time-and-I-need-to-make-it-up-somehow-before-I-ask-her-out-for-real-this-time-instead-of-practicing-it-in-the-mirror’, then, whatever you say.”

“That was ages ago!”

“People don’t forget!” Theo yelled, smirking in triumph as Dan disappeared around the corner, no doubt searching for you.

You were sitting on the cold, stone steps outside the apartment building, your phone in your hand and debating whether or not to call a taxi or walk home before it gets too dark.

Your thumb was hovering over the call button to your local taxi when the building doors slammed open, the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete as a tall figure leapt down the last three steps, running a hand through their curls in frustration as they looked left, then right, and sighed, reaching into their jacket pocket to produce their phone.

You couldn’t see their face, only the back of their head, but you’d recognise that figure anywhere.

You looked down, your heart stuttering at the sudden buzzing of the phone in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to laugh at the hilarity of the situation, and answered the call, lifting the phone up to your ear, your eyes fixated on the pacing figure on the pavement, watching him from your spot at the top corner of the stairs.

“Hello?” The person asked, sounding a bit breathless through the phone.

“Hi.”

“It’s Daniel...Ricciardo.” He winced at his own awkwardness.

“I know. You’re still saved in my contacts.”

“I am?” He replied, tone laced with shock.

You were almost embarrassed to admit that you’d held onto a little shred of hope in thinking he’d eventually get over himself, “You had a paddy with me, remember?”

“About that, I’m really sorry. Like, really, really, really,really, really—”

“I get the idea.” You sighed.

“No, I don’t think you understand how sorry I am for it. It was so insanely stupid of me to stop talking to you because of something I thought I heard in a club — a fucking club of all places — without even thinking of talking to you—”

“Why didn't you talk to me?”

He was silent for a while, and you noticed he’d halted his pacing on the pavement. “I know it sounds like I’m making up excuses, but I really thought you hated my guts, and that...it hurt because I kind of had a bit of a crush on you and I pushed you away because I think a subconscious part of my mind thought that if I did that then it would be better in the long run because I wouldn’t be so attached to you if something went weird later on.” He explained, his voice lowering and quieting towards the end, as if he’d just understood what he didn’t understand.

“That’s...a lot to unpack.” You murmured, noticing the way his shoulders had slumped.

“Yeah...we don’t have to do it right now, though.”

“No, I agree, I think we’d need a nicer place to sort though our emotional struggles than outside Theo’s apartment building.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird — what?” He caught himself, spinning around on his heels.

You offered a shy wave once he’d tilted his head in your direction, realising you’d been watching him talk to you the entire time.

“I was looking for you.” He said once he’d hung up the phone, meeting you halfway on the steps.

“Why?”

“Can I walk you home?” He resorted to asking.

_____

The journey home took about twice as long as it usually would, and by the time you’d both made it onto your street, night was beginning to creep through, the sky changing to a darker blue, street lamps beginning to turn on.

The conversation flowed remarkably easily, albeit there was a noticeable hesitance in dancing around that subject, but you pretended not to notice it, and you had a feeling Daniel was trying to do the same.

He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, almost disbelieving of that fact that you were in front of him, even after what he’d put you through, and he had to keep catching himself to ensure you didn’t notice him looking.

You did.

“So, how are you feeling about going back after the Summer Break?”

He stifled a smile, “I don’t know why, but I have a really good feeling about going back. You know what? It has to be those Haribo’s.” He breathed a laugh.

“What? I hand out magic Haribo?” You smirked, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“No.”

“You say that now, but you’ll take it back when I get a podium.”

“When you do win, just don’t go around telling everyone about my magic Haribo.”

“Oh, the Haribo are reserved for me and for me only. It won’t have the same effect if you give some to Lando.”

“I’ll just take your word for it, I guess.”

You breathed a laugh, coming to a halt on the pavement, the familiar house standing to your left.

Daniel looked up.

“I thought you had a Fiesta?” He asked, pointing to the blue Hyaundi parked on the driveway.

“I’m sorry, is my car not up to the standard you’re used to?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow teasingly in his direction.

“Oi, I’ll have you know that I learnt to drive in a — I can’t even remember what model it was, but I do remember having to really press down on the brake…and the air con was broken.” He defended, throwing his hands up as if to say he was surrendering.

You bit your lip, “I learnt to drive in a Mercedes.”

His reaction was priceless.

“A Mercedes? You learnt to drive in a—wow.”

“It was just the company car, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Still…wow.” He paused, feet tapping the pavement agitatedly, “I have a proposal.”

You met his eyes, unable to help feeling slightly anxious by the prospect.

“Go on.” You encouraged, crossing your arms tightly.

“If I win a GP…wait—can we make a deal?” He asked, throwing his hand out.

You nodded.

“If I win a GP, I get to take you on a date.” He offered, raising one eyebrow but somehow maintaining eye contact.

“But…what’s in it for me?” You smirked.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “That’s so rude…but, okay…I take you to Monza, and if—when I win a GP, I get to take you out. For my own sake, I’m gonna pretend like I will win one because I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.”

“You’ll win one.” You stated simply, shrugging.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re Daniel Ricciardo, when have you ever not been successful in a car?” You asked, pulling a face as if it was obvious from the get-go.

Daniel didn’t say anything after that. He just sort of looked at you, twisting his mouth up in thought. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind at that moment in time, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to believe your words.

“You really believe that?” He finally said, a hint of what sounded like insecurity laced in his tone.

“You don’t?” You shot back, your heart breaking slightly at his demeanour.

“I never left.” He mumbled under his breath, turning away from you slightly with furrowed brows, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

You knew those words would stick around in your mind for a long time.

But there was something so addictive about ‘Daniel Ricciardo wins the 2021 Italian Grand Prix’.

[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. ���Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XIV

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, thoughts of self-harm and suicide, depression, some triggers might not be fully tagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: It’s the final day of the tournament and all are holding their breath to see who prevails.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The arena was buoyant on the final day of the tournament. The most awaited event, the joust, was finally come. As Lord Barnes would once more be among the competitors, you were left on your own in the box with the rest of the ladies and their queen. Most of the noblemen were listed for the sport, Barnes, Rogers, Stark, and even the king.

You didn’t watch as the names were announced and the banners presented before the games commenced. Your attention wasn’t even drawn as the first clashed with their blunted staffs and galloping horses. It was much more perilous than the other contests.

You stayed away from the other women. You were not interested in humouring the queen’s false kindness nor were you interested in their chatter of things that hardly mattered to you. Sewing, birthing, loving; you didn’t care for any of it. You didn’t care for them or the men on the field. You cared for nothing in this bleak world.

As Barnes took to the saddle for his first opponent, you glanced down lazily but found your eyes drawn to clouds instead. It was bitterly cold under the grey sky, streaked with umbrous and ominous wisps. It would likely snow soon as if to mark the grand finale.

You tucked your hands into your sleeves and hugged yourself alone on the bench. You were drawn from your glowering by the rustle of skirts. The queen sat beside you and let out an airy sigh.

“Thankfully, my brother has kept clear of conflict,” she said, “in fact, he’s hardly spared another snarl for the visiting Baron.”

“Your majesty,” you muttered as the flag was waved and the horses barrelled at each other and the men pointed their long poles.

“Unless you count this,” she mused as his pole broke off the armour of the other men and sent his adversary sprawling and the other horse whinnying in a panic. You lowered your eyes meekly. “He will be eager to be away and I do hope you aid him in a speedy departure. The baron is expected to remain in the capital for the winter.”

“Yes, he is want to be gone back to the castle,” you assured her.

“It would be tragic if you were to be snowed in here. Very inconvenient and costly at that.”

“Certainly, your majesty,” you said flatly.

“You understand the urgency that will follow in the coming days,” she intoned.

“I understand but you do seem to misunderstand your brother. To think that I have any hold over him is farcical. He does as he pleases. He is a duke, I am a displaced chambermaid. That is all it is… your majesty.”

“You do not speak as a chambermaid,” she replied sharply, “my brother favours you but he still cannot overrule me, understood?”

“Your majesty, I understand my place completely,” you ceded, “would I be remiss to excuse myself?”

“For what means?”

“To find a commode,” you answered, “these game do carry on and I am distracted by my humanly needs.”

“Go off then,” she stood, “you are rather dour today. You would cast a mood over us all if you languish thus.”

“Your majesty,” you rose and made your way to the doors as she rejoined her ladies and gave a forced giggle as they welcomed her. You wondered how the nobles were trained so well in lies. Was it in their books or did their tutors include it in their curricula?

You descended the stairs without aim. You had no need of the commode, only an excuse. You stepped out into the lower stands and peered out at the field. In that moment, you could be gone. You could disappear and be away from all this misery.

You scoffed at yourself and leaned against the wooden planks. He’d find you again. You couldn’t make it far enough before he sniffed you out again. You weren’t stupid enough to try it twice, even at such an opportune moment. You would only earn yourself further punishment.

“Is something amusing, my lady?” you stood straight and looked startled to the man who emerged from the shadows of the stairway. Lord Zemo smirked and came to stand arm to arm with you as he looked out across the stadium.

“My lord, I was only watching the field,” you lied, “thinking.”

“Ah, yes, these games, how violent,” he remarked, “where I am from, we have festivals before tournaments. Singing, dancing, poetry, theatre… I suppose that is just as silly as all this.”

“It is… a privilege to be able to afford silliness,” you said, “to not be the one cleaning up after all of it and yet… so very pointless.”

He nodded and grumbled as he considered your words, “very true. Wise, even. I think that after one has seen how grave things can be, these affairs become less and less entertaining. It is almost sickening to think of them, let alone attend them. Why should men play at war as if it were fun?”

You peeked over at him. He was here because he once fought those men down on the field with real steel and armour. It was rather grim to think of. “I did not think of it like that but I suppose you are right. I know little of war, however, my lord.”

“You know of pain, though,” he said, “it is painted on you as much as those battle scars carried by veterans like your beloved Barnes.”

You were silent. You stared up at the sky again, the endless grey, the half-finished canvas.

“Beloved? Perhaps that is the wrong word for him. I see little affection there. I sense it is not an arrangement you asked for.”

“Does it matter if it is?” you shook your head, “My lord, you waste your breath on little more than a servant. I suffer Lord Barnes the same as any, I am no help to you.”

“Help? I have no desire to change my standing with Barnes, I am not so foolish as that,” he turned to face you, “Have none ever taken interest in you as your own being?”

“I am a servant. I am not my own being,” you murmured, “my lord, if you would, I should return to my party.”

“As you will,” he said dolefully, “it was a pleasure to meet again.”

“Was it?” you asked as you turned to go.

“It is always a relief to speak of anything but politics or gold,” he said, “and yes, you served me well in this conversation. As you said, that is all you are worth.”

You left him but didn’t ascend back to the box. You continued down the steps until you reached the final landing. You looked up and sat on the lowest stair. A moment of peace before you had to go back. To not think for a single second.

🏰

You listened to the raucous voices of the audience. You didn’t want to move from that spot. You didn’t want to go back to it all. You just wanted to stay on that step forever. But you knew you had to go. You knew you had to get up.

You lifted yourself wearily but your foot only hovered above the bottom stair. You heard more voices, and an angry one as the crowd bang and buzzed. You followed the lower sounds, the singular conversations yelled through the din. You ventured down the tunnel that led beneath the stands.

Horse kicked and snorted as you came into the area meant for competitors. Men sat and stood with blood on brow and lip. Those who’d already lost, many as the final face-off was about to commence. You looked around but did not see Lord Barnes. Perhaps he was on the other side or even looking for you.

You walked the perimeter of the large space and a familiar face caught your eye. Peter rubbed his shoulder as he muttered, his aunt and uncle sat with him as the former checked the cut on his chin. You felt the same stabbing in your chest as the night before. Before you could think, you were marching towards him.

You skidded to a halt before him and gulped. You didn’t know what to say, you only knew how you felt. He looked over at you as May and Benjamin followed his gaze. You wavered and blinked away the tears that threatened.

“I did want to be friends but I stayed away to protect you, Peter,” you said, “did you have to be so cruel?”

“What? I--” he stood and winced as he jarred his shoulder, “I didn’t-- I wasn’t--”

“I know what I am and I know we cannot be friends but could it have hurt to let me think ‘what if’?” You quivered.

“No, my lady, I--”

“You know I’m not a lady. No need to treat me like one now. I heard you last night. I didn’t come to change your mind, I’m not so simple as that. I only came-- well, I don’t know why, but perhaps I only wanted to say to one person how they hurt me. Perhaps I wanted to just once be able to speak my part and that I can do because I know I will never see you again.”

You brushed past him and he reached for your arm as he stammered, “please, don’t, I was l--”

“Don’t,” you shrugged him off and stomped on as the figures around you blurred and the anger and despair swelled in your head.

You followed the noise of the crowd. They were hungry for blood. If that was what they wanted, they would have it. 

You pushed out from behind the curtain and the wood and dirt vibrated from the cacophony. You saw Lord Barnes in his saddle as he was handed his pole and his competitor, Lord Rogers, as he took his own. Their attendants checked the horse and took them to their marks.

You quaked as the ocean of voice rolled over you and you crept out along the wall. All were entranced by the two dukes as they readied for their signal. Barnes silver armour was dented and dinged from his former bouts and Rogers golden armour was just as scuffed. The two men steadied their steeds and the crowd fell into a hush of anticipation.

The red cloth dropped and the riders galloped at each other across the field. The hooves dusted up the cold dirt, through blood stains left throughout the day, and the crash that came sent up another cheer through the crowd. 

Wooden slivers exploded around Barnes and Rogers was pushed back against his horse as his own shield was deflected. Both men kept astride and righted themselves as they rode back to their posts and again, their liveried attendants approached to calm their horses and fix their dressings.

They would go again and again, until one of them was tossed from their saddle or worse. You began to breathe heavily as you paced along the wall and the lords were handed new shields. You readied and watched the man in gray lift the rag. You began to run before it was even visible to the crowd.

You heard the horses barreling at each other as you did the same. You closed your eyes as you got closer to the lanes and you tossed back your arms as you threw yourself forward. A heavy and hard force hit you and several crushing blows landed across your body as the horse trampled over you and overturned.

You croaked as you were left in the dirt. The eerie silence that followed was void of the bouncing excitement. It was broken only by the screaming of the injured horse and the confused voices of those on the field. You heard that familiar deep groan, of pain, not delight this time.

You rasped and gasped as your chest ached and your bones throbbed. Your limbs were filled with sand and your head pounding. There were shadows all around you as you wheezed and you smiled as you tasted blood on your tongue. You began to laugh as your eyelids drooped and blacked out the arena.

“Don’t move her!” A voice called as someone touched your arm. It was broken, you were sure of it. It didn’t matter, they couldn’t fix you. Not your arm, none of it.

You laughed louder and louder as you heard more footsteps. It was all so funny. You were free! Your eyes rolled back and your mind flickered. Just before the flame gave its last lick, you heard his voice. The gravity of it gave you peace.

“Is she alive? Is she alive!? Help her! Help her!”

Lord Barnes could demand as he did for all he had but in this, he could not be mollified.

[agent-cupcake]

As a resident Claudefucker, I know am curious to know what our fave charming schemer is doing during this Mafia!AU. He'd look lovely in a suit.

~It was quite the headline when Godfrey Riegan died. The details are a little hazy, a little convenient, but people don't talk about that sort of thing. Car accidents are common. Tragic, but not unreasonable. There’s no reason to smear a man’s perfectly respectable political career for the sake of some sensational gossip.

~In the right circles, however, there was a huge uproar, questions about who was going to take over the Riegan family when the elderly boss Oswald died. The Riegan’s had been dominating Leicester for quite some time, but a lot of people began to predict that the Gloucester family was going to move in. They had powerful friends, it seemed. Friends with money, no less.

~Claude Riegan, grandson of Oswald, appeared out of nowhere just when he was needed. Stories of the lost daughter Tiana still circulated, sure, but there were still a lot of questions about Claude’s origins when nobody except Oswald were able to vouch for him. He obviously had military leadership experience—his skill with guns and ability to lead was just too excellent for any other explanation—but he dismissed the question out of hand. There’s no documentation of him, either, leading some to wonder if even his name was false. But Oswald said he was family, and that was that.

~Claude was quick to establish himself, in any case. Despite his cavalier attitude, his efficacy in overhauling the power dynamics of Leicester were profound.  

~He decided, first and foremost, that the way to win the people over was to invigorate the local culture, which had seen a sharp decline as a result of new laws that were unfavorable to business, Adrestia’s growing market monopolies, and the bad reputation of the red light district Ailell. This included some perfectly legitimate campaigning and some under the table type schemes. 

~The result was a flourishing Derdriu Street. While it lacks the prestige of Enbarr Square in Adrestia, it welcomes entertainment that would be considered too “low brow” like comedy, trendy new restaurants, and music venues. Even better, all of it is built on the recently cleaned up river. The Riegan family is involved in all of  it, of course. 

~Casino owner Claude. This exists solely to thirst but maybe it was preexisting and he took it over due to its poor management? If there’s going to be gambling anyway, it should be done right. The extra money’s not so bad, either. But, Claude lounging in a big leather chair in a dark blue blazer with gold brocade, his white shirt unbuttoned low enough to see enough his chest. Enough to make you drool. Enough that you’d definitely get caught staring and probably called out for it because he can’t help himself. Claude with his elbows on the arm rests and fingers folded in front of him as he considers you, gold rings winking because he’s just that ostentatious and appearances are important. Claude asking you how you feel about taking risks in a way that really feels like it has nothing to do with cards, staring at you with a friendly smile that doesn’t meet those calculating eyes—eyes that you know will pick up on every tell. 

~Claude also struck a deal with the Kupala Distillery. They’d been fighting to keep hold of their historic business for years, and Claude offered to help them with that. You know, not for free, but he’s good at making deals that leave everybody happy. 

~The second biggest thing he tackled was the drug trade. For the most part, no one family had ever had a complete handle on that market. The Goneril’s had a hold over the docks for years, but the Edmunds had been moving in and working with the Gloucester family to bolster their power. Distribution was scattered and hard to keep track of as it ultimately circulated wherever there was a profit to be made. Looking at it like this, Claude decided that the only way to fix things was to take control over all of it. In his line of work, shady things like the drug trade are impossible to avoid. At the very least, if he has control over it, he can ensure the product is clean and expel far more unsavory ventures.

~Through these escapades, Claude was able to make alliances with all of the major families. A lot of them had only remained loyal to the Gloucester family out of fear so as soon as they had an alternative, they bolted. This has an unfortunate side effect of revealing how his power is perceived. Every day is a balancing act for Claude. He allows each family to function as they please as long as they’re aware they do so at his mercy. It’s better to keep friends than to control enemies, but even that requires a delicate maneuvering of power.

~However, Claude likes the conflict. He enjoys the game and he especially enjoys winning the game. There’s a certain level of his excusing amorality for the sake of his family and Leicester, but there’s an equal part of him that understands his wrongdoings and deals with it separately. He wouldn’t hold to the naïve “ends justify the means” idea to excuse himself, but he would still argue that his actions have value and are even necessary. If it weren’t him, it would be somebody a lot worse than him. That’s probably something that would linger in the back of everybody’s minds whenever they shook his hand or paid their respects, whenever they began to think of how easy it would be to take him out. Fear, too. So far, Claude’s never done anything shockingly bad, only what was necessary. But with his power and intellect, it’s always a question of what he could do.

~If someone asked him that, Claude would smile that friendly smile and tell them that he would do anything to see his vision made real. Whether or not that’s true remains to be seen. 

~Luckily, Claude’s not alone! Hilda is the stereotypical crime family princess. She joined Claude because he offered her freedom from the overbearing control of her father and brother. Her skill in manipulating everybody around her combined with her reputation as a ditzy rich girl makes her fantastic at gathering information, assuming Claude can get her to do so. But, as long as he’s not being too forceful, she’s surprisingly motivated to weave her way through social circles and charm everyone. Although she would never say it, the order he brought to Leicester, not to mention the entertainment, made everything a lot better for her and her family. Plus, she likes being useful after spending her entire life watching Holst give his heart and soul to family while she did nothing. Ultimately, the information she provides is essential and her relationship with Claude is one of the few either have that’s built on trust, respect, and loyalty. That said, sometimes even Claude gets a little shiver as he watches how easily Hilda can manipulate people.  

~Lorenz was one of Claude’s most disdainful detractors, although a part of that was jealousy. Claude just swept in and did things that Lorenz had been waiting and planning to do once he became the head of the Gloucester family. Even after being on the receiving ends of such vicious attacks, once Claude undeniably had the upper hand in Leicester, he went behind the Gloucester boss’s back to Lorenz and told him that they were going to be friends or enemies, it was Lorenz’s choice. Not threatening him, just pointing out that the fall of the Gloucester family was inevitable under his father’s leadership and that Lorenz didn’t have to suffer for his father’s sins. Probably over mimosas and brunch. Lorenz is proud and has no appreciation for Claude, but he’s not stupid. After they worked out their disagreements and more or less accepted each other, Lorenz and Claude became pretty close. Claude knows that having someone to openly and aggressively disagree with him isn’t a bad thing. Not only that, but Lorenz’s a solid ally with a better grasp on some of the things Claude has difficulty with due to not being a native. Lorenz is willing to admit that Claude is a good leader.

~Marianne is well educated in the realm of the law and political action. The reason the Edmund family saw such success despite their lesser status was because of her adopted father’s genius. which he made sure to share with Marianne. She is invaluable in aiding Claude on the perfectly legitimate side of his business, and helping him hide his tracks for the shady stuff. Raphael is the muscle. Lysithea is a computer genius. Being a sickly shut in with issues that only recently saw treatment, she’s on the Mr. Robot level of hacker mode activated. Ignatz is an architect which is useful since so much of Claude’s power is in the property and infrastructure. He also designed a lot of places to have some neat-o hidey holes. Claude loves buildings that have secrets. Leonie is manages a lot of the physical and pettier side of the work. If someone’s stirring up trouble, she’s likely to pay them a visit as a warning before Claude has to get involved. She used to be a mercenary but being on Claude’s payroll is a lot better of a gig.    

~As for the suits, one thing is very important. Claude would not, under any circumstances, wear something tight on his thighs. I actually kind of like the idea of him going for a 1980′s style modernized. In his post timeskip outfit, he’s already got a hint of that going on with how oversized his outfit looks. The 80′s (rightfully) gets a bad rep for fashion, but it’s also very iconic with those wide-collared suit jackets, matchy-matchy three piece suits, sportscoats with a fun patterned shirt underneath, open blazers, pleated pants with an oversized jacket, and—in particular—the trend of summer suits in shades of tan and cream with colored shirts underneath. Then, combine that with a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators and a topless convertible and you’ve got a distinctly recognizable mob boss who doubles as a devastating heartthrob. I’m not saying he’d do a 1:1 recreation, but you’d definitely see references to the fashion of the era in his outfits. He would wear oxfords or ankle boots. Whatever it was, they’d have to be comfortable. He also doesn’t shy away from jewelry. The earring, of course, and rings when he's feeling particularly decadent. When he’s wearing his shirts unbuttoned Claude could possibly wear a gold chain. I mean, what are you gonna say, no? That gold doesn’t look gorgeous against his skin? That it’s tacky? You’re talking to the man who wore quilted pants. Claude’s not afraid to stand out because he knows he will anyway, nor is he afraid to be seen as unfashionable because he doesn’t particularly care about trends. I also enjoy the idea of him emulating the 80′s as someone who didn’t grow up in a western culture and thus mainly saw things through the lens of movies. Whatever he wears, however, he would look very handsome.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

For each member of the Cullens, what do you think it would take for them to realize the extent of how unhinged Edward is and what do you think they would do about it, if anything?

Well, we’re going dark places today, aren’t we?

Alice

Alice is already fully aware of what Edward is, she simply doesn’t care.

There are visions that Alice misses, Edward thinks Alice misses the vast majority of Biology due to being hyper focused on Jasper (and likely missed the school massacre that Edward was seriously planning) but there is a lot she doesn’t miss.

Every time Edward thinks about how great it’d be to smash Mike Newton’s head like a watermelon, every time he considers devouring Bella, every time he enters her room unannounced to stare at her while she sleeps unawares, the time Edward considers genocide of the Quileute Tribe because of Jake’s telling Bella a story he doesn’t even believe, Alice knows.

It changes nothing for her.

She roots for Edward and Bella’s relationship, not because she knows for a certainty it will work out, but because it might. And that slim might, where Bella Swan might survive and become Edward’s lover as well as her own Barbie is worth everything they put Bella through to get there.

Also damningly, Alice cares very little for how good Edward is for Bella just as she cares very little for Bella period. Bella is Alice’s excuse to party and a dress up toy, but Alice will cut contact with her to a) please Edward b) prove a point to Edward.

Worse, Alice will take Bella to Italy, a city where she knows Bella will be killed with a 90% chance upon entry, on the slim chance that they might prevent Edward’s suicide. Yes, she vaguely explains the risk Bella’s taking, but she doesn’t say it in clear terms nor does she waste much time arguing.

Edward is far more important to Alice than Bella.

What I’m getting at is, thanks to her gift, Alice is intimately aware of just what Edward is capable of. She doesn’t care. And yes, there’s something to be said that Edward, more often than not, does not act upon these futures and he shouldn’t be condemned for choices he does not make. However, he does make some of them, and Alice knows.

There’s nothing I think Edward could do to either inform her that she was gravely wrong in how she perceived him or drive her away. Alice would be disappointed he’s thrown the family into such disarray but most likely would try to steer him away from whatever choice would cause such a rift.

She would aid, abet, and enable him because that is what will keep the Cullens together. Which is something Alice very much wants.

Carlisle

Carlisle lives in a river in Egypt, the water is made of double think. There are strong hints that Carlisle’s family is not quite as gung ho or altruistic about the diet as he is. Instead of being appalled, Carlisle quietly lowers his standards, and gives enthusiastic applause when Edward does things like choose not to brutally murder the serial rapist who nearly raped Bella. This is big growth for Edward! He also takes measures like sending family members who have accidents to their victims funeral, in the hopes that something, maybe, might make them see humans as people worthy of life.

If you asked him though, he’d talk about how amazing his family and the Denali are for the diet, and how he’s so proud to be a part of this community that values human life. LOOK HOW MUCH THEY VALUE IT.

When it comes to Edward, I think Edward holds a special place in Carlisle’s heart. He was not only the first person he turned, but Edward left and came back, to Carlisle this signaled that he’d found meaning and purpose in preserving human life. More, Edward... is very good at hiding what he is and is desperate that Carlisle above all others never see it.

Rather than have a conscience, most of the time, what stops Edward from “you name horrific action” of the day is the thought of “What would Carlisle say?” 

My point being, from the outside, especially to Carlisle, Edward truly does look like a noble soul. There are... flags, but they’re easily ignored or written off as issues with Edward’s emotional maturity.

Where Carlisle starts getting concerned is with Bella. Edward leaves for Alaska, great, Carlisle’s proud he was able to make that decision and know his limits. ThEn EdWArd CoMeS BaCK.

Edward comes back, in a week, nothing has changed, and he refuses to leave. Carlisle talks to him, Edward’s thinking he’s better than Hamburger and he can’t let her win, what he actually says to Carlisle is something along the lines of “I can’t run from my fears” Carlisle does an upside down smiley face then says, “Yes, you can, please do” And Edward doesn’t.

Things with Edward and this girl get progressively weird, but Carlisle is very proud that Edward sees the value of human life and not murdering a girl for being nearly hit by a van (this is how low Carlisle’s standards have become), and then Alice goes, “Oh, by the way, Edward is in love with this girl!”

Carlisle just sits there, “Alright then” and quietly puts aside his dreams of moving to a town where Edward doesn’t eat Bella Swan.

But I’m getting off track, this isn’t about canon where Carlisle can explain Edward’s actions away as noble but extreme, emotionally immature, and misguided.

Eating Bella’s not enough. Carlisle will see this as a tragic accident, something he foresaw, but something he assumes will haunt Edward for eternity. And, as it will haunt Edward for eternity (though not for the reasons Carlisle assumes) there will be nothing to make Carlisle question Edward’s character. He was young and foolish to think his limits were endless, but this was a tragic accident.

And it’s something, that in canon, Carlisle is hoping won’t happen but expects with helplessness.

I think there are a number of things that could do it. Had Edward eaten Biology, had he decided to defy Volturi law by eating Saint Marcus’ Square, but staying closer to the realm of possibility...

Had Edward forcibly aborted Bella, murdering her and her child in the process, or else if Renesmee didn’t have her gift, and Edward murdered her after her birth (assuming Jake didn’t get to it first).

Those actions cannot be excused away nor cannot be seen as tragic accidents. They are premeditated and evil, and yes evil is a strong word, yet here we are. This is Carlisle staring in the face of madness.

And that’s what it will take.

If Edward cheats on Bella, then while Carlisle is sad and disappointed, affairs happen and passion fades. More, Edward and Bella married awfully young and barely knew each other, this perhaps isn’t surprising.

If Edward eats a human Bella on the day she’s supposed to be turned, in very suspicious circumstances right at the last minute. Carlisle will know, deep down, but never allow himself to believe it. He’ll think Edward is utterly devestated and had let his guard down on that last day in anticipation of Bella’s turning.

This though, there’s no denying this.

I don’t believe Carlisle can kill Edward. Murder is not in his nature, and more, Edward is so dear to him. And now that this has happened, Carlisle would blame himself in part because surely, the human Edward Masen would never have become this. 

He’d likely reach out to Aro. Eclipse has happened, but not Breaking Dawn, and more everything is in question. He has to know the truth from a man who has seen Edward’s very soul. He goes in person, likely tells Edward his plans, and Edward rages but that doesn’t stop Carlisle.

Rosalie (more on her below) would never forgive Edward, ever, she is done. She and Emmett likely go with Carlisle to Volterra to hear the truth of what Edward is. Esme stays behind with Edward, torn in half, but unable to leave his side in this time of crisis. With that, her and Carlisle’s marriage completely dissolves on the spot. Alice stays with Edward as well, which means Jasper does to, though this likely starts the gears in head and he begins to contemplate leaving his wife. Though I imagine he won’t act for some time.

By the time Emmett, Rosalie, and Carlisle reach Volterra the coven is broken.

If Bella survived, if Edward murdered Renesmee while she was out of commission for three days, then I imagine she too goes to Volterra. Not for truth, but so that Aro can murder her, because there’s no point in living anymore.

Emmett

It would have to be beyond the pale extreme because Emmett gets more hints than most of the family (i.e. Carlisle and Rosalie).

Edward doesn’t really confide in Emmett, per se, but he does say some pretty damning things on their hunting trip in New Moon and give off varying vibes of crazy. Rather than realize that Edward, perhaps, is dangerous, Emmett only gets the feeling that Edward might not be alright in the head. Mostly, Emmett doesn’t want to think about it.

So he gets to listen to Edward raving about how Bella could be crushed by a meteor, wondering why Edward even cares when two days ago he didn’t give a flying fuck about this rando tasty human.

To Emmett, Edward has been laughing madly to himself for days, is now a  paranoid wreck, and is starting to creep him out but... Maybe if he ignores it, Edward will go back to normal?

Not helping is that Emmett doesn’t care about human life. He’s constantly telling Edward to treat himself and eat Bella, in a manner that suggests he vicariously wants to live through the delicious experience (as well as get Edward to calm down). 

If Edward eats Bella, Emmett will slap him on the back and say “Good job, bro!” If Edward eats Bella after the whole “love” thing, well, that’s weird, but, uh, “Sorry, bro?” If Edward murders all of Biology...

Then Emmet might do a double take and think, you know, maybe something’s not right with Edward.

I think he’d suggest he and Rose take a very long vacation and wait for things to calm down. Hoping that, if he ignores this, it will go away and Edward will return to a... saneish person.

What Rose thinks is a different story.

Esme

There is nothing on this planet that could tear Esme away from Edward. Esme’s purpose in life, the thing that gives her joy each morning and each night, is her family which you can condense down to Edward: the best and brightest of all of us.

We see it in canon.

The day after Edward decides he’s in love he acts like a lunatic. The car smells like Bella, as he kidnapped her for a ride home (Bella did not realize she had, in fact, been abducted. Edward does for two seconds then says to himself, “No, no, this is--completely necessary. I’M A MONSTER”

Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, and Emmett get to ride home in this Bella smelling car. Edward keeps laughing, like he’s in an opium den, it’s fucking weird. Edward offers no explanation, the car always smells like Bella, what are you talking about?

Edward then skips to the piano, giggling to himself, and sits down to compose. An action he hasn’t done in years. He’s still grinning and giggling to himself, by the way. Alice joins him at the piano, being equally cryptic and weird as usual. For some reason, Rosalie leaves the room in complete humiliation and shame. This is never explained to anyone watching.

Esme is sitting in the room, taking this all in, and thinks nothing. Instead she smiles, at beautiful Edward, and asks him to play the song he composed for her. She’s so glad to see him filled with joy again. She tells him that he is the best and brightest of all of them.

Esme later gives Edward her pretty much express permission to eat Bella if the girl is causing him such pain and misery. Luckily for Bella, Edward’s in love. So he passes on that and assures Esme the most wonderful thing has happened, he is in love.

My point being, Edward could drop the corpses of the students he murdered in Biology so he could more efficiently eat Bella at Esme’s feet and she wouldn’t blink. It wouldn’t even process for her. Esme would continue carrying on as Esme, nothing changing, while the rest of the family stares agog at the city Edward just murdered.

There is nothing Edward could do or say that would ever change Esme’s mind and she will always treat him as her favorite child.

Jasper

With his gift, I imagine Jasper suspects. Edward loathes Rosalie, despises him, and his feelings for others are... strange. He holds indifference and contempt for mankind and when it comes to Bella. Woof, what a cocktail.

He has no proof though, but I imagine if the smallest thing comes into his lap, that suspicion would become a certainty.

As for what he’d do, it’s hard to say.

I think, in most scenarios, he’d look the other way. Yes, Edward is a monater, but Jasper to is a monster if for different reasons, he has no room to judge. More, Edward is in many respects the heart of the Cullens, far more than Japser himself is. If Jasper goes causing strife, making accusations the others may or may not believe, then the coven could collapse.

This place, these people, are what Jasper thinks he’s been searching for all his life. For the first time, he knows peace, and is trying to live a life where he doesn’t persist in agony every time he succumbs to eating. Jasper is not going to risk that falling apart, even if he finds Edward unpleasant.

And if Edward keeps it to himself, or if the occasional human is the victim, then that’s a price Jasper is willing to pay.

Jasper might actually get concerned when it comes to Bella. For all Bella’s not very close with him, he holds her in very high regard. He nearly devoured Bella, and she forgave him, she forgave him his monstrously brutal past and has never flinched from him. She is a reminder of what humanity can be and why it’s important.

If he realized the threat Edward is to Bella, not just in eating her, but on a level much darker than that, then he might start to act and would probably try to get Bella to leave while she could. However, he also likely knows Bella would never listen, because she doesn’t see what Edward is and nothing would convince her otherwise. Not to mention, as soon as Jasper knows, Edward will plot against him so that no one in the family will ever listen to a word he says.

Not to mention that Alice, of course, must know and doesn’t care. That will be quite the blow to Jasper taking any action.

Barring extreme circumstances, Jasper does nothing, he just watches and waits to see what the others do.

Rosalie

For all that Edward doesn’t bother to be nice to Rosalie, and is ready to lay into her at a moment’s notice, he’s very dear to her. He is, in all regards, her brother and she cares for him deeply as she does the family as a whole.

Rosalie has no idea what he truly is and it would take a lot for her to accept it. More, unlike Carlisle, although she prizes human values and tries to hold herself to human standards her morals have slipped enough that she genuinely advocates murdering Bella Swan in her sleep so that Rosalie won’t have to move.

Murdering Bella won’t be enough, Rosalie will see it as the accident that could have been avoided if Edward hadn’t insisted on being a fool. 

I think, for Rosalie, the best way to drive it home would be a sexual crime. Had Edward forced Bella’s abortion in Breaking Dawn, that would have done it. First, it’d be such a messy, bloody, affair at that point and would look like a horror show (which means Edward’s more than likely to eat Bella in the process). Second, this would be Edward taking the child that Bella wanted, tearing it from her and murdering it, and performing the most vile action that Rosalie can likely even contemplate.

I don’t know what she’d do, I don’t think Rosalie’s capable of killing Edward, she cares for him too much, even after something like this. However, I think she would make an ultimatum to Carlisle “either he goes or I go” and then would never speak of Edward again, he’s dead to her.

[kojinnie]

The Impossible Request | Levi Ackerman

Based on the request by a lovely anon here. As always, I apologize for putting a little bit of angst into what was supposed to be a full-on fluff :(

levi ackerman x reader; fluff/angst; 2032 words

Captain Levi Ackerman left you with an impossible request during your last ride to the forest with him.

Throughout the whole journey Levi kept looking at you, throwing worried glances frequently at the strange way you rode your horse through the forest. A moment ago, you were about to ride yourself and your horse to a certain death offered by a cliff by the side of the trail. If it wasn’t for your horse’s trained instinct, you’d be a tragic story of a silly death by now.

Admittedly, your focus was not on the trail of the forest hill, nor was it on the hurdles of vines and fallen branches splayed all over your pathway. Levi had to keep screaming at you to keep you from bringing your horse to an accident. Your focus was somewhere else, a distant place that a soldier must not dwell within too long. The unfamiliarity of this place caught you off-guard and as evident by the harrowing way you ride the horse, it has come to ensnare you.

As the thickness of the forest started to dissipate to an open field that overlooked the castle where Survey Corps was stationed at, Levi abruptly changed his direction and stopped your way. Your horse squealed in shock and reared up in effect, almost throwing you to the ground.

The Captain immediately jumped off the horse and darted a piercing stare at you, “Get off. Now.” The way he commanded you sent a shiver down your spine, that tone – his battlefield sternness returned, something far different than the somewhat casual Levi that you have grown to be close with during your off-duty season in the castle with him and the Corps.

It was a scarce occurrence to hear him used that tone far from the warfare. You knew he was enraged. You whimpered almost inaudibly, trying to calm your own racing heartbeat as well as to calm your horse down by patting her cheek, before climbing off of her. The Captain immediately yanked your arms and brought you to the side, under the aid of a huge willow tree whose leaves were yellowing with the arrival of Autumn.

The anger was palpable on his pale face, “Are you—” he was immediately dismayed by the surprising hike in his own tone, something that was almost unprecedented of him. The captain knew that he couldn’t let his rage overcome him. He sighed out of annoyance as he came to maintain his composure, “Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

“You were riding like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

“I know. Sorry—I—”

“If you want to die, then just tell me. Hange can use you up for experiments.”

“Captain, I—”

There was a momentary silence looming over the two of you. Levi waited for your response but he scoffed and walked away to the edge of the hill when another second passed with your inability to bring any form of coherence in your words. Your heart sunk in disappointment.

Levi squatted and looked afar to the castle. You could see his torso heaved; it was obvious that he was trying to pace his breath from the suppressed anger. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit of what made you so distraught. The idea that a mere emotional disappointment had led you, a trained soldier, to almost kill yourself for not being able to ride your horse right, is of something preposterous. You were ashamed and girded by guilt. As a soldier, you had let emotion distraught your aptitude.

“Tell me or don’t tell me – whatever,” Levi finally broke the silence without looking at you. Your only view of him was his heaving back, “I already knew.”

You knew of it already, but his reiteration shriveled the last hope you had that the Deployment Letter you received this morning was still bound to change, “You can’t do anything to change it?”

“No. I’m a soldier, and it’s my duty to obey,” Levi spoke. You wished you could feel even the tiniest bit of an upset in his words, but there was little to none, “you have been asked for the Garrison. Effective tomorrow. You shall no longer be here when Eren Jaeger arrives. Erwin’s decision, signed by Commander Pyxis.”

It had been three years since you were assigned to the elite Levi Squad by his own choice. Within those years as well, you had seen yourself grown seasoned by the battles alongside your entrusted Captain, as you fought the mouth of deaths countless times together. Naturally, parting apart alive would be hard for you.

People of the Walls knew him as the humanity’s strongest soldier, would they gape in knowing that humanity’s hope needed to stay humane in order to be their beacon of strength? And that was your duty for him – keeping him humane. Even if it was just to learn his meticulous way of brewing his own tea, so when he was injured and bed-ridden, he would still be aided with the warmth of his favorite drink. Even if it was just helping him tying his cravat when his hand was occupied with paper works. Even if it’s just a sleepless night with him at the library as he learned the offense strategy for the upcoming expedition. You’d done all that with no words spoken of how fond you were of him. Even when your smile arose when he finally let you massaged his strained back, or when your fingers touched the bare skin on his back when you were tending his battle scars, you were adamant to let the feelings simmer in painful silence.

In keeping him humane, you must set aside what you want of him. Your childish imagination and desire to settle with him. After all, Levi was a man unbounded, and in certain liberty shall he thrive for humanity. So, you never spoke how much your heart fluttered when he rode in full-speed to save you from the monstrous titan holding you in their grasp. The way he stayed awake, sitting by your bedside all night after a near-death incident that left you barely conscious for a week. You had sworn to bring this truth to death, but you were conscious when, out of desperation, he ran his calloused fingers through the mess of your hair, stroking your temple soft with the coarseness of his fingers as he whispered in prayer, “Please stay alive, please stay alive…” and then Levi spoke of your name, calling out to what was left of you after a bloody expedition. He called for you, not in the stern command the Captain would utter in the battlefield, but with tenderness of a man bound by grievance.

Had you grown a space in your heart to love me? Was the question that hung in your throat when you finally gained consciousness after the injury, where Petra shrieked in relief and happiness, calling out for the others, and then she said, “Welcome back. We miss you terribly. The Captain has been gaunt without you.”

The question throbbed again with simple little things he did. When he shoved more mashed potato to your empty plate, “Eat more,” he would say with more of a grunt rather than a warm suggestion; The tender pat on the back when you successfully cleared your final task; The palpable look of agitation when you returned from an impromptu hunting trip with Eld in the forest that led him wary of your whereabout for two nights – in all those moments, you wished you had the courage to ask him the question: Had you grown a space in your heart to love me? Or were you just being a good leader to your comrades?

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon. The wind breezed through the forest, blowing the yellowed leaves off of its branches, drenching the two of you in the solemn noise of Autumn. Couple of hours ago, Levi had taken you to ride to the forest to collect firewood for supplies, but even then you knew that wasn’t what you rode here for. Levi sat on the dirty ground and sighed, “Come here.” He looked at you, and softly pat the ground by his side.

Levi knew that he assumed a great deal of obligation. He wasn’t daft, he’d grown aware of the murmurs that people left on his path, ‘Look, it’s the humanity’s strongest soldier – Captain Levi Ackerman!’ then when he wasn’t so well-guarded, he’d catch the way those children look up to him with earnest amazement. Those wondrous eyes. The innocence of faultless children is the thing he had sworn to protect when he braced another expedition beyond the wall, at the expense of everything that made him humane – delicacy, tenderness, warmth, and love. But then Levi met you, and since then he began to wonder: ‘What if? What if? What if?’

Levi knew the feeling he had grown to have for you was starting to cloud his judgment when he almost broke the formation to save you from the mouth of a titan. He remembered the awful feeling of riding back to the camp, with your bloodied form on his lap, to be greeted by the discerning look of disappointment from his own comrades. Later that night, as much as the expedition was a success with minimum casualty, Erwin sat him down and bludgeoned him with the fact that negated every virtue Levi had ever stood for, “You compromised the whole formation with your rash action.”

Compromised. Rash action.

The words that had brought Levi to a prolonged regret. Who he was with you, was not the person Levi devoted his heart for. Levi knew he needed to stop. His allegiance was to humanity, to Commander Erwin Smith – and not to you.

As you sat down by his side, he finally looked at you, and smiled. So scarce of the captain, but when he did, you could feel it was genuine.

“I am going to ask you a question,” Levi said, his grey eyes darkened underneath the warm dusk, “and you don’t have to answer it right now.”

You nodded obediently.

“Do you think all this will end? To live in constant fear of death, and,” there was a momentary pause in his sentence. Uncharacteristic of him, as if he was trying to fight his own fright that was starting to nestle deep in his mind, “have ourselves carrying the last bits of humanity’s hope?”

You remained silent as he carried on, “If no, then understand that your re-assignment is a necessity. For the greater good. But if yes, that you believe that this monstrosity will all end eventually, then, I hope…”

“Yes, Captain?”

Levi looked down at the soil where your hands and his were laying side by side. There was a somber smile beginning to rise from his face. He dragged his finger to tangle with yours rather cautiously. You greeted the awkward gesture with open heart, as you slithered your fingers into his grip.

“I hope, you will have the heart to welcome me home…”

“…to you.”

The words drowned you into a deafening silence, no matter that the Autumn breeze was starting to grow stronger as the sun succumbed into the night, no matter that your heart was thumping in all kinds of inexplicable agony – all you could hear was the void of nothingness, in which no matter how close you were to him, you could feel Levi drifting away from you.

Deep down, you knew that none of this walking nightmare they called life was ever going to end. You knew that each one of you was cursed to live the life in wretched reality. You always thought that he had known of it all along, out of so many people, you thought Levi would be the one to never look forward to a future of peace, for peace was an absurd concept as long as humanity was still trapped within the Walls.

And it broke your heart to gain understanding that Levi still had hopes for it. For the unattainable peace. With you.

He had believed in a future that you thought was impossible, and with it you realized that so would be your future with him.

As the sun finally slid to its resting peace, you brought your body closer to his embrace. He brought your face closer to him, he smiled before landing a kiss on your forehead. The genuine kind, of innocence that was so strange in the world of horrors. The kind of warmth he had longed for so many nights with the thought of you. And finally, you smiled at his words, “Yes, I will.” nodding at the impossible request.

[thedragonweasley]

I think there is so much potential in Ilvermorny.

*clears throat*

I would like to preface this by saying this is a head canon... or just personal opinion....and is definitely....teetering...well, it is definitely on the edge of ranting. I've got strong feels about it but I respect that it's just my personal feels.

But this also has a lot of sensitive bits about cultures that are not my own but that were wronged....but if you're here for it then hell yea.

The author absolutely butchered her attempt at, well, the whole thing. It was trying too hard to be Hogwarts and had a back story that left me feeling like I was trying too hard to believe in it; also, it was pretty insensitive to indigenous cultures.

But it's potential gives me goosebumps. I live in upstate New York in the Hudson Valley, not far from where Ilvermorny would be located in Massachusetts and I cannot express to you how rich these lands are with beauty, history, culture, tragedy, tradition, nature, and the magic that those things have cumulatively created over time. It is wild and fierce and you can feel it in your bones, and if you let it, it will show put wonder in your step.

The Adirondack mountains and the Catskills are breathtaking and hold an incredible history. However, colonialism still hangs heavy in the air of these old towns and sleeps deep in the ground; the scars are old here. The tri-state/New England area was where America was settled and so it is heavy with the past. But instead of completely ignoring this and then taking pieces of these Indigenous American cultures that were wiped from history, she should have seen how Ilvermorny would have been there to protect and fight back.

*I will note here I am not of indigenous American descent so I can not and will not speak on anyone's behalf. But coming from this area and being raised in a culturally aware home I have such respect and revere for those people who's lives and culture were wiped out.*

With the arrival of the settlers began the tragic history of what would be part of America's legacy. Ilvermorny could have been created in a way to combat this or shield from it. And that is even if we keep the storyline of Isolt coming to America and founding the school, because I honestly think that the Indigenous people would have already established something. Buttttt I get she probably felt compelled to keep the EU tie-in somehow.

In my mind I see a safe space for all people of all types of magical abilities with a educational system to rival any. Elders, professionals and experts from all different cultures and as the years went on and the heavy hand of colonialism brought different people and cultures into its grasp, it should have been there to pry open its barbed clasp.

Ilvermorny should have been there to protect. It should have been there to shield the magic and any non magic folk that needed it. It should have been a beacon for the persecuted and hurt. It should have been a hand for those who have had their feet and their spirit cut from them .

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN EVERYTHING THE INDEIGENOUS PEOPLE, AND ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE AMERICA MAMED, NEEDED.

*clears throat*

Sprawling sylvan paths up and through the mountains, embued with magics from around the world. Classes held in halls that echo with the trill of centuries of history and lessons that were born from it. The students would have houses but they would not be separated from one another. It would allow for the students to better aid each other; where one may lack the other may provide.

There is such beauty here and I have grown up with such a reverence for it. As a child reading the series I would imagine having a wizarding school here and learning with all the different cultures I saw around me. All of them. Whether it hurt to learn about or not.

Magic is so beautiful and wonderous and Ilvermorny should be so much more, but for me it always will be.

[inhonoredglory]

i dont think you ever received my last ask a while back, but now i gotta know what ur favorite duos are! (platonic or romantic!) - armin anon

o h mygod forgive me dear armin nonnie!!! the last weeks of school threw me off and then the trollhunters trailer hit and I got distracted. but I hope you’re still out there hearing my answer. I really have fun chatting with you, so thanks for this second question!

My favorite duos, oh gosh. I could even talk about my favorite trios, the character relationships in SNK are so well developed and rich.

Erwin and Levi

My top duo is of course Erwin and Levi. (My summer project is to make a receipts AMV of all the wonderful things Isayama and others have said about the pair.) Their closeness is something else, built on such mutuality, maturity, and love. Erwin looks like a devil to everyone but Levi, who sees his innocent humanity; Levi looks cold and unemotional to everyone but Erwin, who sees his compassionate nature. Erwin changed Levi’s worldview––allowing him to see beyond his own small world to a bigger one, where freedom was possible. Levi saw the darkest side of Erwin’s heart, and still trusted him implicitly, believing in him and selflessly giving up his own need for Erwin to stay in his life in order to give him peace and redemption instead. And as Isayama said,

“Levi had always seen Erwin’s goal of doing things for humanity’s future as an unimaginably altruistic act, and made it his life’s mission to reach the same heights.”

And with that final act of letting Erwin die, Levi did just that––become selfless in the hardest way possible. To let go of the person that gave your life meaning, because in death was healing, in death was innocence, in death was love.

Are they romantic or platonic? To me, love is beyond those labels. People can be romantic with each other and not really have real love. People can have real, dedicated love and never ever kiss or want to. Levi and Erwin share an undeniable soulmate bond, and while there is definite signs of romantic Eruri (Isayama hinting Levi’s type isn’t women, but tall people; Erwin getting flirty in supplemental short stories), to me the important part is that they are each other’s special person and that’s why I adore them so much.

(Artist: rozavay)

Jean and Armin

Because Jean and Armin were two of my first faves from the show, I naturally gravitated to the pair. What I adore about them is how much each one of them defends the other, desperately rushing to each other’s aid on the battlefield and trusting one another. Going through the manga, I found a really touching moment when Armin was fixing a prisoner's gag (the man who had sexually harassed him) and getting visibly disturbed. Jean felt that, and intercepted the moment, getting Armin out of that situation. Jean’s actually really good at detecting people’s emotions, so it was beautiful to see him sensitive and caring with Armin.

I don’t see them as romantic, but I enjoy some good Jearmin just the same, and there’s something to be said for Jean’s canonical jealousy of Armin spending so much time with Eren. Armin’s just that good a catch LOL.

Jean and Marco

Marco changed Jean’s life, gave him a reason to be more than himself. He believed in Jean, trusted him, and encouraged him. I find it incredibly moving that Jean keeps coming back to Marco to remind himself why he chose the life he did.

I totally got on board the ship with this amazing fic about the two of them: To Everything There Is A Season by flecksofpoppy

Canonically, I don’t believe it’s romantic, but they share the deep, beautiful bond of one person owing their entire life’s purpose and sense of meaning from the other.

(Artist: kaa05n2)

Bertholdt and Reiner (+Titan Trio)

Since Bertholdt was my bean in season 2, I really felt drawn to his relationship with Reiner. My sister loved Reiner too, so this duo was a good one for us both to enjoy. Bertholdt was always so insecure in himself, afraid to do or say anything in the big scary, foreign world he was dropped into as a child warrior. He relied on Reiner, and yet so often he couldn’t access him emotionally, since he was dealing with their tragic lives in his own way. He had to grow to be Reiner’s anchor, while still awash himself. They fought for each other more than for their homeland, fought for the things they both came to care about growing up on Paradis, and they were inseparable. Bertholdt risked his mission to see if Reiner was okay in the Return to Shigonshina arc, and he drew strength from Reiner’s trust in him to make his own choices and act on his own in that battle as well. As much as it pains me to see him fulfill his character growth in such a dark way, I still have a spot in my heart for him and his friendship with Reiner.

Levi and Furlan (+Underground Trio)

I got hit in the face with this relationship after I read the No Regrets manga, which shows so much more than the anime version regarding the equality in trust between Levi and Furlan. In the manga, Levi didn’t have subordinates (denying the term for them), he had friends who he had made his family. Levi bet all their lives on Furlan’s plan, and when he went on his first mission, he had such a falling out with him because Levi wanted to protect him and Isabel. Furlan was so grieved by the darkness in both Levi and Isabel’s hearts and put everything on the line because he believed he needed to get them out of the darkness of the underground. Their relationship is a beautiful insight into Levi’s early years and his inherent compassion and deep care for others.

^ The Levi Ackerman actually stopping to hearken to the command of someone else (who’s not Erwin lol), trusting in Furlan’s bigger plans with this stranger than just merely kicking him out, like Levi wanted to do.

Armin and Eren (+Shigonshina Trio)

The entire rooftop sequence and serumbowl shows how much Eren (and Mikasa) care and love Armin. In a way, Eren and Armin are the mirror for Levi and Erwin, with Erwin’s bigger dreams of the world outside the walls turning Levi’s motivations, built on tragedy, into something positive and forward-looking. Likewise, Eren’s darker need for anger and revenge is turned into something good and innocent when he shares in Armin’s dream. Armin’s hope makes Eren feel confident. He believes in him even when Armin doesn’t believe in himself. And of course, that painful way Armin tells him, “I’d never lie to you, would I?” because he knows Eren would never let him go through with his selfless mission if he’d known what he meant to do. To Eren, Armin is a better person than he’d ever be.

Now why couldn’t we have just ended the whole show right here lol?

Ymir and Historia

One of the few explicitly canon romantic couples in SNK! Their story is tragic, beautiful, and inspiring. Each one of them telling the other to be free of society’s expectations of them, to stop living for other people and to live for themselves––together. The change in Ymir, going from someone selfish to someone who would die for Historia’s happiness, is a gut-wrenching thing to watch. Their shared arc is complex, messy, and struck through by the goodness of a young girl who found the humanity in someone who never thought themselves worthy of love.

aaa I think that covers my favorite duos in SNK!

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Idk whats with me and angst but male (or if you want gender neutral) sole dying in romanced compainions + skinny malone arms?

(There are quite a few characters I didn't do..so anyone can request those individual and I'll see about writing them at a later date..just..wow. Ummm..major trigger warnings btw)

It was inevitable..wasn't it? Deep down, this truth was just one of those that was inescapable. The fearsome Sole Survivor was many things; they were determined, they were skilled, they were adaptable..they were amazing in every way- a paragon of a person..however there is one thing they were not.

Indestructible.

No one was. Shit, the Wasteland loved to remind people of that- be it in the forms of ghouls, hellish monsters or whatever- so perhaps this day shouldn't have came as such a surprise. Nevertheless, there was no comfort found within this knowledge.

The day was too pretty of one for something like this to happen. The sunshine was bright, not a cloud in the sky- a gentle breeze passing the pair by as they scavenged the archaic ruins for copper of all things- fucking copper.

Raiders were common in these kinds of areas, but that was no issue. Sole had no issue handling raiders, or anything else for that matter. Well, or so they thought.

Soon the peacefulness of that lovely day was interrupted by the whizzing of bullets and the shouts of obscenities as a small band of raiders made their presence known- effectively ambushing the pair. It was sort of funny in a fucked up way. The fight itself lasted barely ten minutes, just a blue of adrenaline and silent prayers, and the warmth of that beautiful sunshine beating on their back.

They hadn't noticed the blue of that infamous jump suit staining red until it was far too late, not until the wearer collapsed down to their knees as though they were about to beg for the life slowly fading either such rivet of blood being spilled.

Now it was even quicker.

Of course, they rushed to their precious Sole Survivor, horrified, yet still hopeful. They'd try so hard to lift them up, dread filling their veins whenever their loved one cried out in pain from the movement. However they still thought that somehow their dear would make it. Maybe it was foolish naivety.

Then there it was, a certain look within the Sole Survivor's eyes that held a promise. This was it. This was it and all they could do was watch as they died, the lovely sunlight and peaceful breeze serving as the only witness to this atrocity.

This wasn't right. Why did the world not reflect the way this scene was playing out? This was no time for sunshine and happiness, not when the only person they've loved so profoundly could only give them a watery smile..not as they slowly lost the strength to hold their hand to their cheek...

Not as the light finally dimmed and the world as they knew it was consumed by the darkness their former light now took away.

~~~~~~

Cait:

"Son of a bitch..sweetheart, you can't just..you can't just leave me like this- it's..it's not right! You come back, fuck! Please! Come come back.."

•Cait wasn't one to cry, always being more predispositions for rage than tears...however despite how hard she tried all she could do was wail until all that came out was dry tears and hoarse yells.

•After this, Cait would isolate herself from others save for sparking up terrjbke brawls where she knew she was outmatched.

•She just hoped she would finally lose the fight.

Curie:

"Please hang on, I-I can fix you! Please, mon amour, don't leave Curie just yet!"

•She's completely in shock, frantically trying to administer Med-x, Stimpacks, Jet- anything! All it does is worsen your condition unfortunately, the chems overwhelming you and eating at what remained of your life that much faster.

•A piece of her knew this, deep down at least.

•Let's just say, Curie wouldn't quite be the same after this. Not just in the "I lost someone I loved kind of way", no, more in the "I've seen far too much and can't quite cope" kind of way. Her eyes would forever be scarred with the image of your own becoming red from the busted blood vessels and your horrified, sweet face.

Danse:

"I'm truly sorry..damn it..I'm sorry I couldn't protect you either."

•In Danse's mind, you were yet another person he cared for that got killed because of his negligence. Only your death was much more profound- yes. With the death of his other brothers and sisters, he could still soldier through..but with you? The person he could only regard with love? He might've as well died with you.

•The only thing Danse can think of to do to hopefully bring you peace is bury you right outside your little home himself, hysterically crying and drunk out of his mind.

•It wouldn't be very long after this that Danse could no longer handle the pain of loss- no amount of liquor taking the vision of your smiling face at your once shared bedside from his mind.

•At least your friends would have the decency to bury him at your side after they got over the shock of finding him.

Hancock:

"Hey sunshine..don't worry, we..we won't be apart for too long. Heh, it's gonna be okay..it's all gonna be alright."

•The small window of time it takes for your life to leave you, Hancock comes to the horrific realization that he was soon to be doomed to a tragically long life without the one person at his side that made him feel worthy of living..

•Without giving it much more thought than that, he'd just simply stroke your cheek- pressing a soft kiss to your head whenever he was certain you had bled out completely, your blood throughly coating his chest and thighs. After the kiss, he'd take a deep breath before drawing his own pistol and..bang.

Maxson:

"P..please..don't leave..no,no,..please don't leave me.."

•If Sarah's death hurt Arthur, your's was devastating.

•Even after he knew full well that you were dead and gone, he still tries his best to keep you "alive". He'd rush you into a vertibird and call for you aid, having to face the fact you were truly gone when Captain Cade clasped him over the shoulder and gave him a solemn look.

•Arthur cried then, and then later into the night until all that came out were pathetic sobs.

•The only thing that keeps him going is his obligation to duty..but..sometimes he considers leaning just a little too close to the gage of the forecastle..maybe fly like some sort of mythical being before finally being able to hold you once more.

Skinny Malone:

"Oh come on doll face, it's..it's gonna between alright. Shhh, I'm right here..just..god..just relax."

•How did this even happen? He knew better than to indulge your need to scavenge..there wasn't even any need with his connections..why..why did this happen?

•He'd try so hard to keep it together, clenching the fabric of your vault suit until eventually his men come to him..then he can't contain the terrible cries that result.

X6-88:

"(Y/n), don't. You..you can't..oh..I..I don't know what to do without you.."

•As someone who knew death so well, he knew from the second you fell, the way that you fell, you were dead.

•Just for you, he'd try to keep that cold exterior he was once so good at portraying..but it lasts a mere second before tears start rolling down his face and spilling onto your's.

•He'd sit there, cradling your cooling body well into the setting of the gloriously shining sun, wondering just what he was going to do from here.

•Nothing. He no longer knew what to do

[loki-hargreeves]

Once Upon a Dream - Loki x Reader [Chapter 4]

Warnings: angst, fighting, blood, gore, character death (not really but also kind of yes?) vulgar language, amnesia  Word Count: 8K Chapter summary: You need to guard the tesseract and make sure the portal stays open - even if it means fighting Thor. Unexpected events lead to a tragic situation that only a miracle can fix. Loki seems to have a heart wrenching solution for that. Author’s Note: I’m sorry for being so slow with updates. I’ll try to grab myself from the neck now 🥺 Once again, I’m not following canon 100% so forgive me for the differences. Listen to: OUAD playlist on Spotify 

[Chapter 3] ~ [Chapter 5 - coming soon!]

THIRD POV

[CH 4 I Dreamed A Dream]

~   But there are dreams that cannot be And there are storms we cannot weather   ~  

“I won’t let you stop him, Thor.”

“And I can’t let you help him.”

“So be it,” Y/N was disappointed that even Loki’s own brother couldn’t understand. She was ready to fight. 

The sword felt light in her hand although it had been a while since she had last picked it up. Without wasting more time, she ran toward Thor who seemed to be waiting for her. She didn’t have time to mope around.

Just as she raised the blade dangerously, Thor shielded himself with his hammer. To his surprise, the impact of her sword was much stronger than he had anticipated and he had to brace himself harder. Even with the power of the Mjolnir against her sword, he struggled to push her off him. 

“Why do you look so surprised?” Y/N asked him through gritted teeth, finding encouragement in the look of disbelief on Thor’s face. She poured power from her soul and into the sword, making it more effective the longer they stood like that. 

“Just getting started, that’s all,” He brushed the look off his face and replaced it with a grin. Surprisingly, he used his legs to kick at her, forcing her to step back. As she attempted to strike him with the sharp sword, Thor threw the Mjolnir right at it. Both weapons flew off into the distance and Thor ran toward Y/N.

She didn’t have time to pick up her sword as she prepared for Thor’s tackle. As he wrapped his arms around her waist, she jumped and clung to his back tightly. Thor hadn’t expected her to jump, so when she kneed him in the chest, his grip loosened. It was the perfect distraction for her to kick herself off his body and let him stumble forward. 

They turned around to face each other once more. This time, Thor was closer to the balcony and he stood between Y/N and her sword. The Mjolnir returned to his hand smoothly, leaving Y/N unarmed. But not for long.

Thor held onto Mjolnir a little tighter as if to show her that she couldn’t stop him. If she tried, she’d have to face the hammer. 

Y/N wasn’t afraid of Thor or his hammer. She was so overwhelmed with power that she could feel it all over her skin, like electricity. It was warm and difficult to contain for much longer. The magic within her was practically begging to be released. Adrenaline was rushing through her body as well and she could feel the blood boiling in her veins. Nothing could stop her now.

The two of them eyed each other so intensely, both ready to attack if the other moved. Y/N was trying to think of a way to go past him so she could guard the tesseract. Thor was willing to do anything to stop her so they could put an end to the madness around them. 

Time felt like it was frozen when they were face to face. By now, Y/N allowed her power to grow around her hands. The energy around them absorbed into the orbs in her hands and grew quickly, casting a glow in the apartment. Holding onto so much power made Y/N confident. 

Thor watched how her power grew and he knew he had to stop her. He remembered how she had defeated dozens of enemies with one blow when she let her powers get the best of her. 

Quickly, he swung his hammer and threw it at her, hoping to pin her down in time. 

A smirk plastered her face as she had expected that. Thor could be so predictable. Smoothly, she used her power to hoist herself up in the air, allowing the hammer to continue past her and into the wall, smashing it in its way. As she had the upper hand, she released the blasts at Thor’s both sides so he couldn’t dodge it. 

Thor leapt forward on the floor to avoid the merciless blasts that were ought to swallow him whole. Just as he landed on the floor, he felt the heel of Y/N’s foot on his hand and she stepped on it. Thor grunted out in pain as he failed to free his hand - and to summon Mjolnir with that hand. She stepped on his hand with all her strength and it made Thor cringe with discomfort. 

“You’re in my way,” Y/N spat coldly, looking down at Thor who was struggling. Magic was growing around her hands once more, creating a cloud of green. 

Thor didn’t like the sight of her with that much power. The look on her face was intimidating. Thor had seen in a few times before in his life and nothing good ever followed from it. This was a woman who was ready to do anything for her freedom and to aid Loki on his journey too. 

She was so close that he could feel the heat radiating from her and it was painful. He reached out to Mjolnir with his other hand and hoped it would reach his palm in time.

“If I go, you go,” Thor let her know mysteriously. 

Just as she released her power and directed it at him, she felt something hit her ankle hard and painfully. Mjolnir! 

Thor didn’t have time to get out of the way and had to take the blow against his back. Her powers were torturous, even through his armour. The floor beneath them crushed and Y/N lost her balance, falling down the hole with Thor. They plummeted down several floors until finally, one of the levels managed to brace their fall.

Y/N hit the floor harshly and rolled over a few times. The moment she stopped rolling, she forced herself back on her feet and she ignored the pain of the impact. Taking in her surroundings, she noticed that they were on an office floor. All the people who would’ve usually been there working were now gone. Thor was nowhere to be seen. 

“Fuck,” She cursed quietly and narrowed her eyes, scanning her surroundings and prepared herself for a surprise attack. The hole in the ceiling was still cracking up, but it was so small that it wouldn’t do much more damage. Small bits and pieces fell out of it in a dust cloud. 

Despite the Chitauri army wreaking havoc outside, it was oddly quiet in the Stark tower. So quiet in fact that she could hear her own heartbeat drumming in her chest. 

In order to be as silent as she could, Y/N used her powers to levitate just above the floor and move forward without making a single sound. Thor couldn’t have gotten far. 

As she turned around a corner to look beyond the rows and rows of office desks, she still couldn’t see him which was odd. Thor didn’t seem like the type of enemy who hid and plotted his next attack. He seemed more like the direct action kind of guy. 

That’s when a thought struck her mind. Had he flown back up to the highest level to destroy the portal? 

Annoyed that she had wasted time looking for him down there, she groaned and returned to the hole in the ceiling. She collected more energy for a few brief seconds and then flew right back up again, landing smoothly on the ground as she reached the correct level. Just as she had thought, she saw Thor on the balcony trying to talk to the doctor who was working on the portal. 

His cowardliness was infuriating. 

On her way to the balcony, she picked up her sword. It was still charged with energy, and Thor hadn’t looked over his shoulder yet to see her. He probably expected her to be down there looking for him for just a bit longer. He was wrong.

It was all a surprise to Thor when she leapt at him and swung her sword against his armour. Thor stumbled forward, but he had remained unharmed but it was only a matter of time before the blade would pierce the Asgardian armour. He turned around and pushed the sword off of him with his hammer. Seeing Y/N right behind him that cold look in her eyes sent shivers down his spine. 

They were standing outside now and the edge of the balcony was awfully close. Erik Selvig had returned to his station and he seemed unbothered by the two of them. He was only focused on the tesseract and keeping the portal open. 

“Clever trick,” Y/N admitted, “but I’m no fool.”

“ I should’ve expected so much from someone of your kind,” Thor realized now. Any ally of Loki’s was just as slippery as the Trickster himself. 

Y/N walked closer to him and Thor took a step back. She remained cautious because he could just as easily throw her off the edge as she could do that to him. 

“You can still stop this-”

“Never!” 

Thor was disappointed to hear her answer. If the circumstances were different, he would’ve been happy to see how committed she was. But he couldn’t allow things to progress. He had sworn to protect this realm, even from her and Loki. If he failed today, he would fail himself, his father and all of Asgard. 

“How can you trust Loki?” Thor wondered. “He is the god of lies and tricks, Y/N. There is no guarantee that his bargain with you will uphold once all of this is over.”

“You don’t get it, Thor!” Y/N growled angrily. She almost laughed at his attempt of winning her over. “What Loki and I have goes deeper than mere words.”

As she spoke, Thor tried to come up with a plan to defeat her. He glanced to her side, looking at the sturdy wall to see if he could leap at her and use it for support, but she caught the movement of his eye just in time. 

As Thor lunged at her once again, she met his attack with her sword. Thor nearly ran straight into the tip of the blade, but he stopped. It gave her a chance to swing it at him, forcing Thor to take a step back and hit the wall. With one swift move, she pointed it at his throat, making Thor tilt his jaw up to avoid injuries. He tried to move his hammer, but she pushed the sword tighter against him, almost breaking his skin.

“Don’t even think about it!” Y/N warned him against using the hammer.

Thor was trapped.

It would’ve been easy to push it further, but Y/N’s muscles felt like stone. Her hands were trembling as she held her sword that was pressing against Thor’s neck. One wrong move and he would suffer greatly. 

“I know there’s still good in you,” Thor dared to say. If she was evil, she would’ve taken advantage of their position by now. 

“I never said I’m evil, Thor. We’re just two ends of the same coin,” She knew that comparing him to her would infuriate him. There was little he could do as he stood here. 

She didn’t want to kill him. Her heart said no to that wile act. Instead, she would trap him with her magic. With one hand, she kept the sword in place as she used her magic to glue Thor against the wall. The glowing material surrounded Thor’s limbs and it grew brighter and brighter. 

Thor was panicking now. He didn’t want to be trapped by her magic, but he couldn’t do much without risking great injuries. After pondering his choices for a while, Thor tried to move only to learn that he couldn’t. The brightness died down and when he looked at his arms and legs, he saw that they were chained. 

Y/N pulled her sword away and stepped back, looking at her creation in awe. Thor was truly tied down now. 

“I hope it’s comfortable,” She smiled a little bit and tightened the chains without even touching them, forcing Thor to lose his grip on Mjolnir. It fell down on the floor right next to him. He looked helpless as he struggled against the chains. Thor seemed like a lost child when he realized he wasn’t winning the fight. “You’re going to be like that for a while.”

“Are you too afraid to fight me?” Thor wondered, trying to rile her up so she would lose focus on the chains and he could break free. After all, keeping up the magical bounds would drain her of energy sooner or later. If she had used real chains and charged them with power, it would’ve been easier, but she hadn’t had a better option.  

She put on a thoughtful look and leaned against the wall next to him just to mock the god of thunder, “I think I already did.”

Thor looked around him desperately. The Chitauri were destroying everything in their way and he knew that the people were terrified. The portal was a fierce eyesore in the sky and it didn’t seem to stop spitting out enemies. For a moment, he felt truly defeated. He wondered if creating thunder and blasting her with lightning could help. Could he do that without holding his hammer?

All seemed to go according to Y/N’s plan until an arrow appeared out of nowhere. Clint had seen them from a distance and he hadn’t hesitated to shoot at Y/N in order to help Thor out. 

Y/N had been so focused on Thor that she didn’t have time to react. The arrow pierced her through her abdomen and she could feel it hit the wall behind her through her skin.The shock of it all was enough to break the spell and the chains that held Thor down cracked into bits and pieces. It snapped in several links and then just vanished into thin air. 

Just like that, Thor was free again.

Y/N looked down at the arrow that was sticking out of her stomach and the sight made her sick. She dropped her sword and immediately put her hands around the wound, feeling hot blood pooling around it and through her fingers.

“Oh no,” She breathed out in pain. Right now, it hurt more in her soul rather than it did physically. Adrenaline numbed her to a point where she didn’t have to experience the raw pain of it all - yet. 

Thor was genuinely worried for her, although it had been of great help. Now that he was free and she was injured, he could shut the portal. But first, he needed to help her. Despite it all, Y/N was Asgardian. He knew that now and he couldn’t let her suffer. If he did, Loki would lose it and Thor didn’t want Loki to find hidden strength in a moment of despair. It was odd how people found strength they didn’t know they had until they truly needed it. 

“Sit down,” He tried to help her. 

“No! Y/N refused to let him help her. Thor’s mistake was that he assumed the blow had weakened her. For the moment he had tried to reach out for her, she used all her strength to create strong energy blasts. She aimed them at Thor and sent him flying right off the edge of the balcony. 

Thor yelled out in surprise and fell out of her sight. Moments later, the hammer was summoned by him but Y/N didn’t see or hear him anymore. 

As she was all alone, the reality of the situation weighed down on her. There was an arrow pointing out of her stomach and it had possibly pierced some vital parts of her. She knew she couldn’t run around with it inside of her, but she also knew that if she was to pull it out, she would bleed out.

Somehow hers shaking legs carried her inside to safety. She collapsed on the floor and finally, the pain got to her. It burned agonizingly and every time she moved even in the slightest, it grew worse. Y/N forced herself to sit on the floor and she leaned against the back of the sofa. She could still watch the balcony from there and whoever walked inside from the other entrances wouldn’t even see her. So for now, she had no choice but to stay there.

“Ah shit,” She cursed when she ripped her clothes around the arrow to see it better. The surrounding skin was tender to touch and blood was dripping out of it. Had it pierced her back? It had felt like it, but Y/N couldn’t be sure and she wasn’t keen on finding out either. Instead, she closed her eyes for a moment and attempted to heal herself. Could any amount of magic truly heal that? One thing was for sure, she had to try. 

As she sat there, a smile curled up her lips. Out of all her enemies, Hawkeye had managed to harm her. It was almost comedic to her - if it wasn’t for the fact that she was in serious danger. 

“Oh Loki, I hope you’re doing better than me,” She thought out loud. 

Where was Loki when she needed him the most?

                      A nearby explosion followed by glass smashing burst Y/N’s bubble of thoughts. How long had she been healing herself? Her eyes felt weary and she had lost track of time. As she looked around, she saw Loki rolling over on the balcony. The sight of him was a surprise and for a moment, she was relieved to see him. 

Unfortunately, the relief didn’t last long because the next person to join the party was the raging beast. The Hulk barely had time to land on the balcony before he leapt at Loki. The two of them rolled inside and broke more windows on their way in. Loki separated from the beast and he hit his head on the floor hard. Despite how painful the impact looked, he got back up on his feet like it was nothing. 

Y/N knew that her wound was still too bad for her to get up there and face the Hulk. But she was on standby. If Loki needed her, she wasn’t going to let an arrow stop her. So far, they hadn’t noticed her sitting behind the couch with bloody hands. Everything hurt so bad, but she almost forgot about the pain when she looked at the Hulk. Surely, she’d be breakfast for him if he got his hands on her. She didn’t like the thought of that at all.

“ENOUGH!” Loki suddenly yelled. He sounded so done with everything, provoked even. She knew instantly that something was pushing on his mind. It couldn’t be good. 

She grunted in pain as she moved closer. Loki was holding a furious speech and to her surprise, the Hulk had actually stopped for a second to listen. 

“- I will not be bullied by aah!” Loki was caught off guard when he was attacked. The Hulk grabbed him by his legs and brutally smashed him against the ground repeatedly. In his strong arms, Loki was like a rag doll. He didn’t even put up a fight. 

Y/N couldn’t just sit there and look at the mess. It physically pained her to see Loki treated like that. When she got back up her feet clumsily, the Hulk dropped Loki on the floor and he stayed down. The wind was knocked out of him and he stared at the ceiling, completely stunned. 

“Puny god…”

“Stop it! She yelled at the Hulk with tears in her eyes. 

He looked at her and prepared to attack, but when he saw the arrow, even the Hulk let his guard down. Not for long, but he certainly inspected the situation. 

Cautiously, she made her way closer to Loki, only one step at the time. Her eyes never left the Hulk’s. He looked so angry behind the grimace, but he didn’t attack her for some odd reason. 

“Please, just let me help him,” She whispered now. Healing her wound without many results had drained her energy and she was beginning to feel weak and nauseated. The sight of Loki like that didn’t help much. 

Loki hadn’t moved at all. He just laid there and whimpered in pain as he struggled to breathe. Had he even acknowledged Y/N’s presence at all?

When she was deemed too close to Loki, the Hulk tightened his fists and took a step forward. Before she would face him in a fight, another person joined them.

“Step back!” Natasha had arrived. When? Y/N had no clue. Miraculously, the Hulk listened to her but he wasn’t happy about it. He murmured something nasty about gods underneath his breath and walked away like a grumpy child. 

In shock, Y/N turned to face Natasha. Why had she stepped in to help her? That was a mystery but Y/N was genuinely thankful for that. 

Without exchanging words, Natasha just watched as Y/N fell on her knees beside Loki, unable to keep herself up for much longer. The Black Widow didn’t see her as much of a threat by now so she didn’t intervene. They had much bigger problems to think about now that Loki was down.

The first thing Y/N checked was Loki’s breath. She had heard his whimpers, but to feel his breath against her palm was a huge relief. 

“Hey,” She cupped his face in an attempt to gain his attention. He didn’t react to her voice at all. His eyes were closed shut and it almost resembled sleep. If only he was just asleep. The wound on his forehead was bleeding, but it was only a scratch compared to his other injuries.

“Loki, wake up,” She didn’t realize how beaten she was until now. Loki was unconscious and she had an arrow sticking out of her which was beginning to drain the rest of her energy. Everything became more difficult, even breathing. The pain was so overwhelming that it was hard to even think straight. 

She could either try to heal herself more in order to put up a fight against the Avengers, or she could try to heal him. Time was their enemy. As much as it frightened her, she decided to help him. 

With both hands on the sides of his face, she leaned against Loki as much as she could without the bloody arrow getting in the way. Her forehead rested against his gently and then she focused on all her power, directing into him. When she felt her magic blending in with his, it almost felt like someone was tickling her gently. His magic crashed against hers like waves on a stormy sea. The more she borrowed her magic to him, the harder it was to continue. The tickling sensation turned into something heavy and miserable. By now it felt like Loki’s magic had grabbed onto her very soul and it was tugging at it. 

Eventually, Loki opened his eyes. As soon as he realized what was going on, he stopped her. 

“Y/N!” He repeated her name a few times so she would snap out of it. The flow of energy stopped and her body collapsed. Loki sat up and grabbed her just in time before the arrow would've pushed through her completely. 

Gently, he turned them over so she was on her back. Luckily, the arrow hadn’t pierced her back which meant she could lay down on the floor When he saw the arrow, Loki felt sick to his stomach. The sight felt like a punch in the gut and it troubled him greatly. How had this happened? 

Loki’s first instinct was to find the agent who was responsible for this and make him pay for what he had done, but when he learned just how terrible Y/N’s condition was, he couldn’t even consider leaving her side. Loki felt guilty. It weighed down on his shoulders and he regretted dragging her into this. Once again, they were facing misery. It was like fate was testing them. When would it stop? When could they be happy?

He didn’t give a damn about the war, nor the portal. As long as he could help her, Loki would face the consequences. Right now, he couldn’t think about anything or anyone else than her. 

Y/N looked at Loki’s concerned expression and it hurt her. Seeing him injured and so worried over her was like a knife in the heart. But at least he seemed to be alright. He was going to make it. 

“I’m sorry,” She apologized, feeling the need to do so. In her mind, she had failed him. In a moment that could’ve turned out victorious for them, she had let her guard down and Hawkeye had managed to get a good shot at her. 

“Don’t apologize,” Loki was quick to say something. “You’ll be alright,” He wasn’t entirely sure if he believed that himself. He forced himself to look at the wound and it was worse than he had imagined. How long had she had it in her? Why wasn’t her healing powers working against it? 

A realization sent shivers down Loki’s spine. As happy as he was when he knew she would survive, he felt miserable. They had just found themselves again. This moment reminded him of the past. When he had lost her before. It was too similar and it wrecked him on the inside. 

At least he could keep his promise. She’d be alright. 

Natasha was watching them from a safe distance, but she didn’t focus on what they were saying. There were too many other issues she had to think about. She was willing to let Loki help her as long as he wouldn’t try anything else. By now, the portal had been closed and the others were finishing up their tasks. She was still waiting for Tony’s update. Last time the team had heard of him, there had been talk about a bomb. Tony had told them he had an idea.

The Hulk had left the building as he struggled to contain his rage near Loki. Natasha hoped that she could get some backup soon, but she also felt oddly confident in the situation. Loki seemed like he only had eyes for Y/N and nothing and no one else in that moment. 

“I can help you,” Loki wanted her to understand that his intention was good. His lips were quivering now and he failed to mask how upset he was. 

Despite how exhausted and weak she was, she picked up on that. “What are you talking about?” 

Loki moved slightly so he was sitting comfortably right next to her. He helped her move so she could rest her hair on his lap. It was easier to work when she was closer to him like that. 

“I’m going to have to remove this,” Loki explained carefully and glanced at the arrow.

Y/N followed the trail of his eyes. The idea of him pulling it out of her was gnarly and she knew it wouldn’t feel nice. What did she have to lose? 

“Do you trust me?” Loki needed her answer.

It was scary, but she wasn’t afraid to trust him, “I do.”

Tears were gathering in the corners of Loki’s eyes. His mind was blocking out everything else. He refused to waste energy by thinking about their defeat or Thanos. Now all he could do was focus on her and making sure she’d live. 

He grabbed the arrow and took a deep breath as if to prepare himself for the inevitable. Y/N gave him a nod which encouraged him to pull it out. Carefully, he began tugging at it. He could feel every little movement as he removed the arrow which was sickening. How could anyone hurt her? Loki didn’t understand that. He blamed himself for not being there to watch her back. 

Once the arrow was removed, crimson blood oozed out of the wound and soaked her clothes and eventually the floor. She winced out in pain and squeezed her eyes shut. Loki had no time to waste. 

“It’ll be okay very soon,” Loki promised her sincerely. He bent down to press a comforting kiss on her forehead, one that he knew he would savour for as long as he’d live. She didn’t respond to him, but she heard his voice clear as day. 

Loki took one last glance at her. It felt like goodbye all over again. In a way, it was. Then he put his palm right above the wound, feeling the hot blood on his skin. He closed his eyes and focused entirely on healing her. 

When Y/N felt the pain subside ever so slightly, she tried to face Loki. Her vision was blurry and she could hardly see past him. Instead of his usual green magic, a white light began to grow around his palm. It surrounded her wound instantly and began to spread all around them, until they were inside a shield of magic. The pure energy of it all was so strong. If anyone from the outside had tried to reach them, they wouldn’t have been able to do so.

Y/N watched in awe as the air around them turned into a whirlwind. It was gentle but it played with his hair. Next thing she knew, Loki opened his eyes and they were white. It looked like all the colour had been drained from them and they shone so brightly that it was nearly impossible to look directly into them. What was he doing?

“I need you to know that I’m sorry,” Loki turned to face her. Was he crying?

“W-why?” 

Loki was quiet for a moment. That’s when Y/N picked up another source of light. It came from her own palm. As she looked at it, she saw the stars again. Why were they shining? One star in particular stuck out. Unlike the other stars that shone just as brightly as the other, this one was more intense. 

“I never meant to drag you into this. This was never supposed to happen,” Loki was talking about everything that had happened. In his mind, they should’ve been together, possibly on Asgard. They deserved to be happy. But life had been cruel and separated them. Was this a direct result of all their wrong choices? 

“I chose to be by your side,” Y/N remembered. By now, speaking felt immensely difficult. Her body wanted to sleep. Her eyes hardly stayed open. The idea of accepting the darkness that so desperately wanted to surround her was tempting. It no longer scared her. 

Loki lifted his palm from her wound. As he did that, she noticed that the stars beneath his skin were shining as well. The magic he was using was strong, but strange. Why did it feel so familiar? 

When Loki reached for her hand and touched it, she didn’t feel his touch anymore. Everything was so numb. The lack of feeling made her feel so shallow. 

All of a sudden Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. Right afterwards Loki let go of her hand. The star from her palm suddenly raised above and floated in the air right underneath Loki’s hand. One of his stars joined it and they watched how the small lights danced together. In a bizarre way, it was beautiful. Calming, even.

Carefully, as if he was trying not to drop something, Loki moved the stars toward the brutal wound. The lights merged into one bigger star and it twinkled a few times. It almost looked like a diamond with a million cut edges. The magic that was stored within it was so powerful it could’ve moved oceans apart. Even though Y/N was weak and she felt like she would succumb to nothingness at any moment now, she could feel the magic in her soul. 

“I wish there was another way,” Loki’s voice was quiet. Then he lowered the star and pressed his palm above her wound again. This time, he could feel the change. It closed as the magic began to heal her. 

Loki knew that soon enough, they would be strangers again. It tore his heart to pieces, but he knew it was for the best. He was going to make sure she wouldn’t suffer for the consequences of his actions and then he would leave her in the past - forever. They had tried to make things work out several times, but it had never been successful. In his mind, he brought misfortune to her. Everything he touched seemed to turn to dust. 

“Goodbye,” Loki whispered his farewell to her, unsure if she could hear. She was blessed with a fresh start, but he would be cursed with knowledge, with their memories. 

“I love you.”

As if someone had breathed life into her lungs for her, Y/N gasped dramatically. She blinked and the next time she opened her eyes, she was in an entirely different place. 

Everything turned pitch black. The darkness enveloped her completely. 

Where am I?

Who am I?

Thoughts swirled in her head as she stood in the middle of nowhere, all alone. How did she get there?

When something flashed by her side, it startled her. Y/N turned around but she was too slow. The mysterious figure had already vanished. 

“Hello?” She called out for anyone who could hear her frightened voice.

Another flash of light caught her attention. And another. another. It didn’t stop until she saw countless of figures all around her. Where did they come from? They were all whispering something, but she couldn’t make sense of it. Their voices merged together into one big mess that grew louder and louder until it hurt her ears. 

There was no use in hiding. There were no places to run for shelter. She was surrounded by these mysterious flashes and they terrified her. 

It quickly overwhelmed her. Y/N covered her face with her hands in an attempt to block out the bizarre creatures around her. A few seconds passed and everything turned silent again. Her heart was beating hard. It felt like it had leapt to her throat at this point. Did she dare to look?

It took every ounce of courage she had to remove the hands from her face. When she did, she saw a figure standing right in front of her.

“Who are you?!” She wasn’t even sure who she was, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Did the stranger know how scared she was?

He just stood there. His emerald eyes didn’t move. As she looked at him longer, she realized that he didn’t move at all. He was completely frozen in time. 

Her eyes scanned the other figures that stood all around them. No one moved, but they all stared at her ominously. Being surrounded by these people with no way out was like a nightmare. The place seemed never-ending. The figures were in rows as far as her eyes could see. 

Several of them resembled the man who stood right in front of her. They looked younger, some seemed older. There were several faces in the crowd, but this one stuck out the most. His raven hair and piercing gaze were somehow familiar. So Y/N decided to be brave and face him one more time. 

“Can you hear me?” She wondered. Her voice echoed in the odd space. 

Instead of saying something to her, the man reached out his hand. When she looked at his outstretched hand, she noticed something that resembled stars right above his palm. They were mesmerizing and it was hard to look away. The lights had a gravity to them. 

There were nine stars in total, but only six of them were twinkling with light. Three of them were dull, like a dying fire. It reminded her of darkened coal. Burned to an end. 

Did he want her to touch them? Why wasn’t he speaking? 

“What are they?” She needed to know.

The man’s cold expression shifted into something more sympathetic. “Our lives, Y/N.”

Y/N?

That must’ve been her name. It felt right. 

What did he mean by that? 

“Am I dead?” She barely managed to push the words out of her mouth. The idea of being dead was startling, but it made sense. 

“I suppose you could say that,” the man replied calmly, “but not for long.”

Not for long?

“What do you mean?” Y/N had to know. Her poor heart felt like it was going to explode. Nothing made sense and she felt so lost and lonely. 

“Once you are ready, you can return to your third life.”

Third life?

A shocked laugh escaped her lips, “This is madness.”

“Is it?” The man questioned her mysteriously. 

Silence fell over them. Only this time, it didn’t feel as scary. Y/N studied the countless of faces all around her. Some of them belonged to a boy. An older man also shared that face so she assumed it was the same person. She saw a man and a woman who were always standing next to each other, no matter how many duplicates they had. One of the people around her always held onto a hammer. One was missing an eye. And there were so many more. 

Why was this person the one talking to her? And why did she feel so sentimental about this stranger? Were they strangers or had she forgotten him? 

“Who are you?” She repeated her earlier question. 

“I’m merely a memory,” he explained, “you’ll have to find me again.”

By now she knew that he wasn’t going to give her any direct answers. The best thing she could do was to take in all the details on his face. If there was a chance that she could find him, she was definitely going to do so. He was the only clue she had on anything. 

“How do I return to it?” Y/N questioned him after a while. This strange and dark place had nothing more to offer her. She felt ready to face whatever came next. The unknown was both frightening and ever so tempting. It made her curious. 

“Take my hand,” The man instructed her. Although it was slightly strange, she trusted him. 

And she did so. The moment she touched his hand and he closed his fingers around hers, the other figures vanished into thin air. The darkness began to fade and it felt like the world was caving in on them. 

The man disappeared as well. For a moment, she was all by herself. Everything was fine, until the sensation of her falling took her by surprise. Y/N flinched and her eyes opened wide. 

She noticed people all around her. They were all bloody and their clothes were dirty. The place they were in was fancy, but the broken furniture and windows were evidence of something awful that had happened. Did she die there? 

Y/N was sitting on the floor and she wanted to stand up,  but a man was pointing an arrow at her. 

“Don’t move,” He sounded angry. 

“Woah,” She raised her arms in surrender, not wishing to die and return to that dark world she just came back from. This man didn’t look anything like the one who had talked to her. 

“Her spell is broken!” A familiar voice made both of them turn their heads. A tall man had said it and he was facing them with his back. Y/N saw a green cape and long, dark hair. She couldn’t believe her luck. It must’ve been the same man.

“You!” She smiled despite having an arrow pointed at her. “It’s you!” She couldn’t believe her eyes when he turned around and she saw his face. Then she saw the handcuffs and the blonde man who was holding onto him. Was he a prisoner?

“What’s going on?” A redheaded woman seemed confused by the situation. “I thought she was a goner.”

The man with the cape kept a cold look on his face, “She was for a moment. But she’s much tougher than you’d think.”

The blonde man tugged at his arm, “what did you say about a spell, Loki?” 

Loki? So his name was Loki? Y/N tried to remember that as she watched them from the floor. 

“Did you really think I would trust her to be loyal to me after everything? That I would leave the tesseract into her hands after we had spent so long apart?” Loki laughed mockingly and then faced her again, “I used something far stronger than the sceptre to turn her to my side. It seems like a little brush with death wore it off.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. The only clue she had was him and he was talking about putting a spell over her? Why did he sound so mean? 

The redheaded woman made the guy lower his weapon and the arrow was no longer pointed at her. 

“Can we trust him?” The arrow man seemed suspicious of it all.

“There’s only one way to find out,” The woman replied and knelt down on the floor next to Y/N. “How are you feeling?” 

“I...I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Y/N needed to know. A terrible headache was forming in her head at an alarming rate. Her mind tried to put all the pieces together but absolutely nothing made sense. Not knowing anything or remembering anything was like hell. 

“The wound is gone,” The woman noticed as she glanced at Y/N’s stomach. 

What wound?

“Who are you?” 

“Do you really not remember?” The woman narrowed her eyes and seemed to look right into her soul. She certainly had a tough expression.

Cautiously, Y/N shook her head no. 

“I’m Natasha,” She introduced herself, but still remained suspicious. “We have to take you with us just in case you are tricking us,” She pointed at Loki as she spoke. Then rather gently, she helped Y/N up on her feet. “We’re going to get to the bottom of things.”

For a moment, Y/N felt lightheaded. She didn’t fight it as Natasha put handcuffs around her wrists. It’s like her mind was so overwhelmed by everything that she was unable to do much. Why were they in handcuffs?

“What happened?” 

Everyone in the room shared strange glances. Why was there a huge, green person in the room as well? Why did he look so angry? 

“Loki what did you do to her?” The blonde man wondered bitterly. Everyone seemed to blame Loki for this, whatever this was.

“I already told you, now didn’t I?” Loki was quick with his remark. The two of them seemed to have a complicated relationship. Their outfits resembled each other’s and stood out from everyone else there. 

Natasha nudged Y/N gently so she would walk with her, “I usually know a liar when I see one. I think she’s genuinely confused,” she let everyone know. 

Confused was an understatement. 

“Okay all of you, let’s move!” A brown haired guy spoke. There was a strange blue light underneath his shirt that immediately caught Y/N’s attention. It was located right above his heart. He was also carrying a silver briefcase and he had what looked like guards on both his sides. Whatever he was carrying must’ve been priceless.

Everyone began to make their way into the elevator, including Natasha and Y/N. The green thing tried to get into the elevator as well, but it was full. All Y/N could do was to just stand next to Natasha and silently take in her surroundings. She didn’t know what to think of it all. 

As the elevator doors closed, the green one hit it so hard that the metal bent. No one seemed surprised by it, but Y/N was shocked. How had he done that? 

She turned around to look at Loki who now had his mouth covered by a metallic mouth guard.  Asking him anything at all would’ve been useless because there was no way he could answer with that thing on. No, she didn’t know what he had done or why he was treated like a prisoner, but it didn’t mean she didn’t feel for him. His face had appeared before her just a moment ago. Clearly, he was important. 

And he didn’t even look at her. 

Why did it hurt? 

Loki was all she could think about when they were led out of the elevator. The ground level was swarmed with people. A lot of them wore suits and the overall tension in the space was obvious. Looking outside through the big windows, she could see destruction and smoke. It didn’t take a fool to know that something terrible had went down there, wherever they were. 

They were stopped when a group of armed men walked right up to them, blocking the entrance. 

“May I ask you where you’re going?” An older man questioned the man with the briefcase. It seemed serious. 

“To lunch and then Asgard, and I’m sorry, you are?” The blonde one had let go of Loki as he answered the man’s question. 

The man with the briefcase answered for him, “Alexander Pierce.  He's the man, one of the folks behind Nick Fury,” He explained the latter a little bit quieter. 

Alexander didn’t want to waste any more time, “My friends call me Mr. Secretary. I'm gonna have to ask you to turn those prisoners over to me.”

Prisoners?

Y/N realized that only she and Loki were handcuffed. He must’ve been talking about them. The idea of going somewhere with Alexander Pierce made her uncomfortable for whatever reason. Like she wasn’t able to trust him at all. 

“Loki will answer to Odin himself,” The tall blonde man explained, “and Y/N? She’s not really a prisoner. I think not.”

“Oh they’re going to answer to us, Odin can have what’s left...of Loki,” Alexander sounded quite sure of himself, “And I’m gonna need that case. That's been S.H.I.E.L.D. property for over 70 years,” He gestured toward the briefcase. Whatever was inside it was beginning to catch Y/N’s interest. Why were people fighting over it? She wanted to know what it was.

“What do you mean? Why are you keeping Y/N?” Briefcase guy wondered. 

“She, just as the case, has been our property for years. We are not done with her!”

Their property? The sound of that made Y/N’s skin crawl. Why did they speak of her like she was less of a person? It made her sick to her stomach and she wanted to chew on the guy’s words, but decided to stay quiet for a little longer. The two guys were handling the situation just fine. 

The authority over the briefcase quickly turned into an argument right before their eyes. As they fought over it, Y/N turned around to look at Loki. He was taking in his surroundings, studying every little thing he could see. Was he planning something? 

For a moment, their eyes met and she could’ve sworn that his expression softened. It looked like he wanted to say something, but it was impossible. If she read his eyes correctly, she could tell that he was sorry. The man looked defeated and he had been quite sassy with everyone else. But now he looked at her with compassion, even if it was only for a second. She noticed it. 

Everything came to a halt when the briefcase fell on the floor and the man who had been carrying it began to visibly struggle. Everyone reacted to the man’s sudden change of demeanor and somehow, the briefcase slid away from them and no one seemed to care. What on earth was happening to him? 

A guard grabbed the briefcase and tried to walk away with it - just like that. It seemed wrong, but Y/N wasn’t going to stop him. Someone else did.

The green beast finally reached their level and he was upset. The door he had opened had pushed the guard on the floor and now the briefcase slid right back to their direction. The green one started roaring out in anger about how much he hated stairs, the people began to run away from him in panic. Y/N froze on the spot, staring at him wide eyed. She had no idea what he was capable of and she didn’t truly want to figure that out either. 

Instead, she fixated her eyes on the bright blue cube that fell out of the briefcase. It was beautiful. She couldn’t look away and she just watched as it reached Loki’s feet. Loki looked at it in astonishment, like he couldn’t believe his luck. Then before anyone could stop him, he bent down and grabbed it. 

He made the decision in a second and he didn’t hesitate at all when he ran toward Y/N and held onto her as well as he could with his cuffed hands. 

“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence as a portal appeared right behind Loki. The sight of it took her breath away as she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It had bright blue edges just like the cube, but it led into seemingly eternal darkness. Before anyone could stop them, Loki stepped back into it, and pulled her with him.

The moment they entered the mysterious portal, it disappeared and Loki held onto her tighter. She was scared that something bad would happen if she let go, so instinctively she held onto Loki for dear life.

[Chapter 5 - coming soon] 

A/N: we’re out of canon timelines now so I can do whatever I want >:) Also I would love to hear your feedback! That always makes writing worth it. <3 

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