#stress is on my brother to provide everything and make time to take his son to therapy and doctors appointments bc YOU DONT DRIVE
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learning curve
alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] r gets custody of her 5 year old nephew when her brother gets into trouble. alexia insists on sticking around even though r gives her an out. it's a new and entirely stressful situation for r, but alexia makes it a bit easier. fluff, angst, etc. this is a kidfic.
—
How was it possible? That the most ordinary of days could be just one phone call away from shattering life as you knew it.
You should have known, really. Should have seen it coming. You were happy for the first time in a while. Happy in your career, in your relationship. Of course something would come along to change everything.
It was a pleasant day off, the day you got the call. A slow morning where Alexia woke up way before you, but didn’t get up. Instead, she let you sleep in her arms, completely content to just… be there with you. You’d made breakfast together, Alexia’s voice raspy from lack of use, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your face, your neck, as if she couldn’t help it. It was purely and entirely happy.
Your phone rang just after breakfast. It was an unknown number and you never answered unknown numbers but something about the call made your stomach drop. You clicked the answer button and gave Alexia an apologetic smile, walking out of the room.
“Hello?” You greeted, tapping your foot impatiently when no one said anything right away. Alexia had put on her favorite show, and as much as you pretended to despise the soap, you were hooked.
The robotic, pre-recorded message that began startled you.
“This call is from a person currently incarcerated in prison. All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.”
It wasn’t shocking, not really. You’d gotten calls like this before, but not for a few years. He used to call a lot, when he first started getting into trouble, asking for money for a lawyer. At the time, you hadn’t had any to give him. Eventually those specific calls stopped. You still heard from him, but not through a call being recorded by a prison.
He hadn’t been arrested in 5 years. And now… the stakes were much higher.
“Hello?” The deep voice of your brother came over the line, sounding utterly defeated.
“Leo.” You sighed. “What happened?”
“I fucked up. I… Will wanted to start football. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t pay for boots for him. I just wanted to get him something nice.” Leo choked out. You could hear the emotion in his voice, and ignored the pang in your chest as you pictured the little boy just two years older than you, lip trembling as he promised he’d take care of everything.
“Leo, why didn’t you call me? And ask for help?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re busy and I should be able to provide for my son. I shouldn’t have to ask my little sister for help, I should have it figured out.”
“So… this is better? Getting arrested for petty theft and then calling me for help?” You asked sarcastically, though you understood him more than you’d admit. The need to be independent, completely self sufficient. The sinking feeling you’d get when you had to ask for help with something… you still felt that, too.
Your brother was quiet for a moment. Long enough that dread started to build up inside of you again.
“It’s not petty theft.” He said finally. “It’s grand theft. And accessory to assault. The guy I was working with went a bit rogue.”
“Jesus.” You sighed. “How long?”
Another long silence.
“How long, Leo?”
“10-15 years.”
You could practically see the tears falling from his eyes in your head, and you knew just by his tone he wasn’t calling for money. Not this time. You could see Alexia out of the corner of your eye, hovering in the doorway uncertainly.
“I… I signed the papers, to give you custody of Will. To make it easier to take him back to Spain with you. He’d be yours, and I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other option, I would, but the only other option is putting him in the system, and I don’t want that for him. I don’t. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, really I–”
“It’s okay.” You breathed. “It’s alright. Of course, I’ll take him. Of course I will.”
Alexia moved closer, resting a hand on your shoulder once she noticed the tears in your eyes. You let her anchor you, suddenly very sure that this was it with her. Today had been the last nice day you’d have with her, and you hadn’t even known it.
But there wasn’t a question of whether you’d do it or not.
“Are you sure? With your career and–”
“I can make it work.” You said. “I’ll make it work.”
“Okay.” Leo replied, sounding overwhelmingly relieved. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I–”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.” You cut in, unwilling to hear another apology. It wouldn’t fix anything.
Leo gave you the name of the woman to call, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Even after the call ended, you remained frozen, thinking through all the details, all the things you needed to do, unsure where to start.
“Amor?”
Right. That’s where you had to start.
You turned to Alexia, your face completely impassive. It was the face you made when the team lost and you were upset, or when you got hurt and didn’t want to cry. It was you running from vulnerability, and it had been a long time since Alexia had seen you make it towards her. She’d thought you were past this.
“My brother was arrested. I’m getting custody of his son. Will. He’s 5. I’m going to bring him back to Spain with me.” You spoke robotically, eyes fixed on a point on the wall just beyond Alexia’s shoulder.
“Oh… oh wow.” Alexia breathed, nodding her head slowly as she took the information in.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of my old apartment. I’ll move my stuff when I get back, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll move back in there and–”
“Why would you do that?” Alexia interrupted, her face twisted with confusion. You looked at her for a moment, her brown roots growing out and the oversized t-shirt she had on. It was soft, your favorite for her to wear because you loved the way the fabric felt on your skin when she held you.
God this was hard.
“I… I won’t do this to you, Ale. I won’t. You don’t need this, but I have to–”
“No. Stop. We are not breaking up, and you are not moving out.”
You turned away from her when you saw the tears in her eyes, clenching your fists tightly and taking a few slow deep breaths. She was making this so hard, but you should have known she would.
“Alexia,” you began, your voice abruptly cutting off when the midfielder gently grabbed you by the shoulders and turned back towards her.
“No. No.” She repeated, shaking her head over and over. “Do you love me?”
You exhaled sharply, desperately wanting to wipe the tear off her cheek. To cradle her face in your hands, and kiss her frown away. You should lie, that would be the best choice. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so.
“I do, Ale. I love you so much. That’s why–”
“Then that’s it. You love me and I love you and people who love each other do not break up.” Alexia said firmly, her lip trembling even as she bit it to make it stop.
“Alexia, please. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this with me, I could never ask you to.”
“You are not asking. I am telling you. I am not going anywhere, and neither are you. You bring Will here and we’ll figure it out together. Together, amor.”
She moved closer, her hands cradling your cheeks, wiping your tears away just as you’d wanted to do with hers. Somehow, she was convincing you. Like she always did. Whenever it felt too unbelievable that she loved you, whenever you became absolutely convinced that you’d tricked her or something, and tried to leave for her. She always convinced you to stay, because she knew you never really wanted to leave her.
“It’s gonna be a lot.” You murmured, your hands finding their way to her waist, your body giving in before your brain did. “It’s gonna be really hard, especially with work.”
“We can do it. Together.” Alexia promised, leaning forward to dust a kiss across the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do it together, okay? Don’t push me out. Please.”
“Okay.” You allowed, finally giving in and leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around your body, squeezing so tight it almost hurt.
“Promise me? No pushing me away.” She whispered into your ear.
“I promise.” You breathed the words back, knowing, somehow, that you wouldn’t break this promise. Never before had you gone back on something you’d promised Alexia, and you didn’t intend to start now.
—
The plane ride had been long, and though you were already exhausted, you hadn’t slept a wink. You were wide awake when the plane took off, and wide awake when it landed hours later. Some sleep would have really done you some good, but there was nothing to do about that now.
It was really an amalgamation of all of your least favorite things. The social services office was just as bad as you remembered it. Just as… lonely, regardless of how incredibly crowded it was. It was overly beige, from the walls down to the outfit the woman sitting across from you was wearing. Susan. Even her name sounded beige. Then, there was the paperwork. An endless pile of it on the desk in front of you. Your hand was starting to cramp from signing, and all you wanted was to see Will. Physically see him, make sure he was okay. He was somewhere in this building, surrounded by strangers. It was impossible not to picture him, all small and scared in an office, wondering if you were really coming for him.
You remembered that feeling. No one had ever come for you and Leo.
But you were here for Will. You were here for him, and it didn’t matter too much that he barely knew you; at least, that's what you told yourself.
You were his aunt that lived far away in Spain, that sent at least three presents for his birthday every year, and three more for Christmas. You talked to him on the phone every so often, and Leo liked to send a picture of Will wearing your kit every few months. He liked dinosaurs and crafts, and he adored your brother. Will’s mom had never been in the picture; you’d never met her, never even gotten Leo to tell you her name. It was just the two of them, and you knew it was hard. You didn’t know it was this hard for your brother, though. You’d have stepped in much sooner if you’d known.
Signing the last piece of paper, you inhaled deeply and slid it back across the desk towards Susan.
“Okay! That’s everything in order. It would be a lot more complicated if your brother hadn’t signed over his rights. Great foresight of him, to have the paperwork all ready!”
Yeah. Great foresight. Leo clearly possessed that.
“I’ll go get Will! Like I said before, he’s been having a tough time, but the minute he arrived here he asked for you, telling us he was supposed to make sure that his Aunt came for him if anything ever happened to his Dad. I think he’ll settle once he finally sees you.”
Susan smiled kindly, stepping away from the desk and briskly walking down the hall.
The words settled something in you that worried Will wouldn’t want to go with you, while at the same time, making you so incredibly frustrated. Leo could make sure to prepare Will for this exact situation to occur, yet he couldn’t avoid committing felonies?
Before you could think too hard about what to say or do, there he was. Walking slowly down the hall next to Susan, a blue dinosaur clutched tightly to his chest. His brown hair fell messily around his head, in a way that reminded you of your brother. He was small, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts and a pair of velcro shoes. Small and scared, his face creased with anxiety and fear, even as he approached you.
“Here she is!” Susan said encouragingly, gently nudging Will closer when he came to a stop just in front of you. He was gazing up at you with wide, unsure eyes, and you could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. He was so small.
It was instinctual, something you didn’t even know you possessed that had you kneeling down and opening your arms. Will’s forehead un-creased just slightly, and he rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck.
“Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” You whispered, holding tightly to the little boy that was clinging onto you as if you were the last stable thing in the world. And you supposed you were; in his world at least.
Will exhaled shakily. For the first time in two whole days, he felt just a tiny bit safe. He didn’t know you well, granted, but his Daddy had always told him that if there was an emergency, to make sure to call you. He’d taught Will how to click your contact and call. Will hadn’t been sure you’d come. You lived far away, and he barely ever saw you. The two of you were strangers practically. But Leo had always told Will that you’d come for him if he needed you. And Leo had never broken a promise to Will before… Well not until the other day, he’d waited in the office at school for a whole hour after the bell rang. When someone came for him, it wasn’t his Dad. It was a police officer with a mustache and a mean face, and all Will could do was cry, and make sure that the police officer knew he had to call you. And though the details Will had been given were few, he knew his Dad had been bad and he was in trouble. Big trouble. The police officer had sounded all angry and stern when he’d told Will this, softening only slightly when Will asked when he’d get to see his Dad again.
The police officer hadn’t answered, instead telling Will that he was being taken to the social services office, where he’d wait to figure out what the next steps were.
Will had waited for you, and even though the nice lady had told him you were coming, it took a while. More than one day, but he couldn’t quite remember. It felt like forever.
But now you were here, and you’d given him a hug that felt like the hugs his Dad gave him, and he didn’t feel like he had to try to be brave anymore. Your arms didn’t loosen around him even as you stood up, and Will let himself relax. Just for a moment.
—
“We going to Spain?” Will wondered, gripping two of your fingers when you held out your hand towards him. He trotted along next to you as you headed from the social services building down the block to your hotel.
“Yeah. Barcelona.” You affirmed. Luckily, Will had been able to talk to Leo on the phone, and Leo told him what the plan was.
“Bar-sa-lonuh? Or Spain?”
“Barcelona is a city in Spain.” You clarified. “We’ll go there on a plane tomorrow morning.”
“Is it a big plane?”
“It’s a pretty big plane. Have you ever been on a plane before?”
Will shook his head, brown curls blowing backwards slightly in the wind.
“It’ll be fun. We’ll get snacks and… pick out a few movies to watch. And you can sleep if you want to.”
“Snacks and movies?” Will repeated.
“Yes! Does that sound fun?” You tried to sound excited even though there wasn’t really anything you were dreading more than the long flight with a five year old.
Will just shrugged, his hand tightening around your fingers. You shifted the strap of his big duffel bag so it was further up on your shoulder, stopping just outside the hotel and bending down so you were eye level with him.
“I know it’s a lot of change, Will. And I know you don’t know me very well but–”
“My Daddy said you’re nice. And that you’ll take good care of me.” Will whispered, tearing up as he remembered the phone call he’d gotten to have with his father this morning. Leo had called you right after, himself trying to hold it together as he explained he told Will that you were coming for him.
“I’m going to do my very best to take good care of you. We’re gonna figure it out together, alright?”
Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his eye with his fist. “Alright.”
You figured that was the best you’d get, for now.
—
“Tia?” Will whispered. You turned, finding him all tucked into one of the double beds, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was so small, the dinosaur pajamas he’d pulled out of his duffel bag a bit too big on him. ‘Dad said I’d grow into them if I ate my vegetables’, Will had said. Your brother was many things, and a good father was one of them. He was giving you a huge responsibility and huge shoes to fill.
Refocusing on Will and not how much he looked like your brother, you smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed.
“What’s up, buddy?” You asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching and out brushing one of his curls away from his face. His whole body relaxed at the motion, and he looked a bit more confident as he opened his mouth to speak again.
“Do we have to go to Spain? We… we can’t stay here?”
Your heart twisted in your chest. You thought of your brother's words on the phone the past few days. He’d repeated it a few times, as if knowing the doubt you’d carry.
You can’t leave Spain. You have a career and a life there. Will speaks a bit of Spanish, and he’ll adjust. He needs to be with you, and you need to be where you’re going to be happy. That will be the best thing for him.
Leo spoke with a wisdom in his voice that used to infuriate you, but you’d decided to trust the big brother voice, this time. Because he was Will’s dad, and he knew what Will needed.
“We have to go to Spain.” You confirmed. Will frowned, an unhappy look on his face that tore at your emotions. “I know, it’s going to be an adjustment. But your Dad told me to take you there, and he always knows best, right?”
Will looked conflicted. “I like it here.”
“I know, I know you do.” You paused, thinking once again back to your brother's advice.
Talk to him like he’s a person, not a baby. He’s a smart kid, he’ll understand.
“I play football in Spain. It’s my job there, so that’s where we have to be for now. But you’ll like it, I promise. It’s warm and sunny and it has really good food. Alexia is there, and I know you’ll love her, and she’s so excited to meet you in person.”
Thankfully, Will had met Alexia over facetime before, and knew that you were together. You didn’t have to introduce the idea to him, as he’d somehow already seemed to know it wouldn’t just be the two of you when you arrived in Spain.
Will looked doubtful, and you could see the anxiety clearly written across his face. His features were so like Leo’s, and it was the same face your brother always had when he was nervous about something. The same face you had when you were nervous about something.
“Why don’t you ask me questions about Spain? And I’ll answer them, and then you’ll know more before we get there.”
Will was a talker, that much you knew. And so the questions began, about the food in Spain, about school in Spain, about the team you played for, and whether there were dinosaur toys there. Question after question, until you laid down on the bed next to him, eyes barely open.
“Do you live in a house in Spain?” Will asked, his energy still in full force as he asked what felt like the 500th question of the evening.
“An apartment, but you’ll have your own room.”
“And Alexia lives there?”
You nodded groggily.
“Does she speak Spanish?”
“She does, but she also speaks English.”
Will hummed. “My Dad was teaching me some Spanish for when we met Alexia. He said your tia taught you both Spanish and that's why I call you tia because that’s Spanish for aunt.”
At this, you cracked a smile, forcing your eyes open as you nodded. “That’s true. We lived with our tia for a while and she taught us Spanish.”
“Is it hard to learn? I’m not very good.” Will wondered, his questions seemingly endless.
“Mmm, not hard. You’ll pick it up quickly, especially at school and with Alexia helping you with it.”
“Is she nice?”
“She’s very nice.” You promised, eyes flying open when you realized you had a text from Alexia you hadn’t yet read or responded to. Will yawned hugely as you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket, and you smiled down at him again.
“Go to sleep, buddy. I can answer more questions tomorrow.”
With a small grunt of agreement and another yawn, he rolled over. Right into you, his head resting against your arm. It was indescribable, the soft feeling that filled your heart. Soft adoration, even as you stilled the left side of your body completely so as not to disturb him.
You didn’t know much about kids, but it seemed you knew enough. For now.
Finally, you opened Alexia’s text, tears pooling in your eyes as you read her words.
Amor! I hope everything is going well. You’re doing great already, I am sure of it. I stopped at the store and got a few things for Will. You said he likes dinosaurs, sí?I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hug you.
God, you couldn’t wait to see her. It wasn’t very odd for the two of you to spend a night apart, but something about this felt different. You missed her deeply, fully, needed her to hold you and promise everything was going to be okay. The anxiety of how this whole new life would work was almost overshadowed by your excitement to see her again.
Almost.
—
Will was a pretty well behaved kid, you’d learned. Very sleepy when he woke up in the morning, but he snapped right out of it when you asked him what he wanted to download to watch on the plane. He very eagerly selected three disney movies, and you realized with a pang to your chest that all three were movies you and your brother had grown up on.
All three were Leo’s favorites, if you remembered right.
And now they were Will’s.
Not being the biggest fan of crowds, the airport clearly made your nephew nervous. He fidgeted his little hands together, walking so close to you that he ran into you every time you stopped. His hand would dart out to grab onto the hem of your t-shirt whenever anyone got too close to him, and he almost cried when the security agent made him walk through the metal detector by himself.
You figured this made sense, that after his whole world had been turned upside down, of course he’d attached himself onto the most stable thing he could find. That happened to be you. It was just… odd. Something you weren’t used to. The checklist you’d made on your phone helped, reminding you to ask Will if he had to go to the bathroom, if he was hungry or thirsty, if he had any more questions about the plane. It was more than terrifying, honestly, that you were suddenly fully responsible for this small boy.
There was stress, of course. But there was also something so… incredibly different in the way Will pressed his face to the glass of the plane window, staring wide eyed as the plane took off. For every moment you worried you were messing up, even in the first 24 hours, there were 10 moments where Will rested his head against your shoulder or reached for your hand, or offered you one of his animal crackers with a smile that had you convinced that for your nephew, maybe you could do this.
—
“I can walk, Tia.” Will mumbled, squirming slightly in your arms.
You chuckled, rubbing his back softly. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s crowded and I know that makes you nervous.”
You’d picked him up a moment ago, after noticing how terrified he looked at the massive crowds making their way through the airport. It was a struggle to wrangle both of your bags in one hand, while holding Will in the other, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You took two steps towards the exit before you had to stop and readjust, wishing you had another pair of hands here to help.
Alexia had texted that she was there, and though you’d assumed that meant she was outside in her car, your eyes met hers across the bustling baggage claim before you had to take another step.
Your whole body practically sagged with relief, your bags falling to the ground where you stood as Alexia made her way over to you both, a concerned and sympathetic smile on her face.
“Mi amor,” she greeted, softly kissing your temple and pulling you into as much of a hug as she could manage with Will still in your arms.
“Hi.” You choked out, almost in tears at the sight of her. Here, in front of you, at the perfect time. With a smile on her face, already reaching for your bags.
“Hi, Will.” She said gently.
Will peaked out from where his face had become hidden in your neck, relaxing a bit when he saw the semi familiar face.
“Hi.” He whispered back, turning his face back in towards you and shutting his eyes.
“He’s tired.” You explained, but Alexia just waved you off, beginning to lead you from the airport to the parking garage. It was much easier now that you only had to worry about carrying Will, who was quickly becoming dead weight in your arms as he drifted off.
“Of course he is, it has been a long few days. I bet you’re exhausted too. We can go home and go right to sleep, sí? We can worry about anything else tomorrow.”
You nodded your agreement, not even wanting to contemplate the state of your to do list at the moment, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore.
As you arrived at the car, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the car seat perfectly installed in the back of Alexia’s car. You’d mentioned needing one to her, but for some reason… you half expected her to forget. Or get the wrong one. You weren’t sure why, but it was just something that you thought you’d have to do.
Yet when you opened the door to the back seat, it was all done for you. The perfect size for Will, buckled in correctly and everything. You carefully deposited him in the seat and buckled him in, before turning to Alexia, once again with tears in your eyes.
“Thank you for getting that.” You mumbled, shutting the car door as quietly as you could.
“Of course.” Alexia said easily, her lips curving into a smile as she opened her arms for you. You practically collapsed into them, gripping tight to your girlfriend as she did the same to you.
“I missed you so much.” You cried.
“I missed you too, mi amor. You have no idea.” Alexia whispered back, her hand threading through your hair as she just held you for a moment. Eventually she leaned down to press her lips to yours. You kissed her back, taking in the feel of her hands as they cupped your jaw, her fading blonde hair tickling the side of your face.
When you pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing at you so lovingly it made your heart burst.
“Let’s get you both home.” She suggested, and you nodded your agreement, needing nothing more than to be home in that moment.
—
The relief you felt when you finally stepped back into your apartment wasn’t complete relief. Because you were home, but everything was different. There was a whole other person that had to fit into your life now, and you didn’t even know where to begin carving out a space for him. There was figuring out a school that could accommodate a five year old that spoke very little Spanish. Then there was finding childcare for when training didn’t perfectly align with school, or when the team was traveling. Would you bring Will with for away games?
The issues you needed to address were seemingly endless, but most urgently was that the extra bedroom was not fit for a child. It had a double bed, which would work for now, but didn’t leave much room for anything else. What did a kid even need in his bedroom?
Toys, of course.
Books.
A desk?
A dresser? Or would the closet be enough?
God he would need more clothes.
And food that he'd like to eat.
And shampoo and conditioner for kids. Those were different from adult hair products, right?
That was most urgent, you decided. Making your home a home for him.
“We should go shopping tomorrow.” You murmured, shifting Will in your arms a bit as you headed for the guest bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in the car and it was night, so it made sense for him to keep sleeping.
What time did kids his age go to bed? 7? 8? You had no idea. Another question to answer.
With a gentle hand on your back guiding you down the hall, Alexia hummed in agreement, but you missed the small smile on her face. “I bought a few things.” She reminded you.
Your assumption was that a few things were a pair of pajamas, a new toy. A book, maybe? But when Alexia stepped around you to push the bedroom door open, your jaw dropped.
A few things, apparently, was an entirely redecorated room. A beautifully redecorated room. The walls were no longer white; instead they were painted a soft green. A wooden twin bed sat in the corner, a green canopy hanging the tall headboard and footboard. The bed was covered in a green comforter, a soft throw blanket, and 4 different pillows. A long shelf sat just under the large window, filled with toys and books. There was a separate toy box next to the bookshelf, overflowing with even more toys; cars and books and dolls and stuffed animals. Everything. Wall decor, a rug, a dresser, a cozy chair in the corner next to a lamp.
Alexia had thought of everything. And if you’d had any doubts about her dedication to this, to you, to Will, you no longer did. Alexia had done what you’d been too preoccupied to think of and made Will a space that was entirely his own, a place he could feel safe and comforted. She’d made your home his home without a second thought.
Without a word, you walked further into the room, choking back a sob as you laid a still sleeping Will down carefully on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, snuggling close to the soft pillows as you draped the throw blanket over him.
When you finally turned back towards your girlfriend, she was hovering in the doorway, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at you worriedly.
“Too much?” She whispered.
You barely held back the scoff that would have been much too loud, crossing the room quickly and throwing your arms around her.
“No. Perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.” You mumbled into her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin you found there. Alexia tightened her hold, walking the two of you backwards and out the door so you didn’t wake Will.
“Are you crying?” Alexia asked, her thumb tracing across your cheek bone as she leaned back from your embrace.
You sniffled pathetically, leaning back in to press your forehead to Alexia’s chest and steady yourself.
“I was just so overwhelmed and you did this and it’s perfect Ale. Thank you. Thank you.”
Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly.
“You don’t have to thank me. I promised, no? I’m here. We are doing this together.”
“I love you.” You cried, overwhelmed with love and wonder at what an incredible person your girlfriend was. You’d already known, but she always found a way to surprise you, doing something so absurdly kind and thoughtful that you were struck all over again with how good she was.
“I love you too.” Alexia replied, swaying the two of you back and forth gently.
There were still a lot of unknowns. A lot of problems to solve and things to figure out. But you’d never been more sure that you could do it. It wasn’t ideal, but you had Alexia and that was certainly ideal.
—
JUST finished this so PLEASE tell me if you catch a typo also planning more parts to this but i'm VERY open to ideas if you have them :)
#woso imagine#woso x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#kid fic
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Can you guys recommend me Evil X centric fics? And provide a summary and major spoiler to convince me to read them? I listed the ones below that I discovered/read so far, so you don't need to recommend them again. It also functions as me recommending stuff to EX enjoyers :D
Asking for Nothing by mayflowers fr "i can be the one you call" series (Evil X redemption saga after traumatizing Keralis w/ Zed's help; you need to read everything for context since it has diff events and has continuity) ✨
Anthophobia by residentevilxisuma (Evil X has platonic Hanahaki disease) ✨
Make Me Hurt, Make Me Bleed by residentevilxisuma (Reaper Evil X got tortured by Mumbo but doesn't have physical scars due to his regeneration, but it's been hiatus/discontinued since 2021 😭) ✨
residentevilxisuma's Reaper AU by residentevilxisuma (collection of Evil X reaper au)
Another Chance by Ronin_Resistance fr "Void Medic EX" series (Evil X is in charge of respawn while in the void)
Homesick by Inquillitory (Evil X redemption arc after being indirectly responsible for s8's doom)
Can't Even Hear My Own Sobs by GoodTimeWithCip (EX has meltdown after being ripped fr the void)
Here is Home by Shrug (Icynightsky) (not centric but major role; Evil X rescues Impulse fr the void who was banned due to Imposter Syndrome)
The betrayal of brothers doesn't mean the betrayal of others. by JustAnotherMutantKid (Evil X was banned by Xisuma for not doing what he wants but got help by Team ZIT + Wels)
The Road to Hell (Is Paved with Good Intentions) by Random_Reviewer (not centric but antagonist; Evil X tortures Etho and streamed it for the Hermits to see)
this is about a stuffed bird by Bee_4 (downloaded it but didn't have the motivation to read since MCD)
The Hermits And The Mystery of How Evil X Eats by thatgirlfromasgard (not centric; like the title suggests)
it takes two to play (the game of mutual secrecy) by kiwinatorwaffles fr "the hermitcraft hero au (VDHAU)" series (Evil X vigilante due to admiration of a hero, not knowing it was his older brother Xisuma, and those two were just oblivious to each other's identity when all their friends already figured it out a long time ago) ✨
Late Night Visits by Lackyducks (not centric but major role; Evil X sends a stressed Xisuma to Scar since he can't shapeshift back)
Family Revelation series by PickleGirl23 (Exil X found and adopted Grian as his son; didn't continue the series tho since they crossover w/ DSMP)
Iron Bleeds Green by MawoftheMagnetar (not centric but major role; X and EX were formerly the same person but separated due to a tech fr their home planet, and an individual fr there was hunting both of them down)
Cat Among Pigeons by qvill (Evil X was spit out by the Rift after being void banned, shapeshifts into a cat so no one will know it's him)
Love Me Like I'm Dead by Dani_ofCrows (ongoing; major role; X and EX were secretly some kind of creature but X keeps it a secret fr the Hermits until this was forced to be discovered, Hermits shortly realized that both siblings have Hanahaki disease)
I'll Take You By The Hand by ScarletHalo (Evil X was captured by the Watchers but Grian helped w/ his injuries until Xisuma comes to theit rescue)
Words Are Hard by BDbSafe4U (BlueDblue62) (depressed Evil X can't communicate how much he was hurting to X until he tried to off himself in Decked Out)
voidfishing, the new sport that nobody regretted partaking in (eventually, anyway) by kiwinatorwaffles (major role; Xisuma fishes out kid Evil X out of the void)
Well well, look who's inside again by rorythewriter (ongoing; Evil X is freed fr the void but has amnesia and is suicidal due to the pain fr sensory deprivation/overload, EX and Zed friendship for the win)
Cold and broken and hurt (Warm and healed and protected) by Moonflowers24 (EX disappeared in s8 and was stuck in the void until s10, assumed X hated him since he banned him to the void again and never responded to their texts)
A Nether Return by Sharo (EX glitch spawned in the 1.16 Nether after being banned, got sick but was taken care of by team ZIT and Zed got pissed after discovering X banned EX)
#evil xisuma#hermitcraft#hermitblr#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#fanfiction recommendation#someone recommend me fics i'm desperate :(
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GENESIS (P.GW)
SUMMARY . . . even with everything hectic going on in his life, he will always be there for him.
PAIRING . . . park gunwook x male!reader
GENRE . . . fluff, angst
WARNINGS . . . mentions of sleep deprivation, and neglectful parenting
WORD COUNT . . . 1.7k
NOTES . . . this is how i cope with the fact that pretty much no one in my household cares about me or my well-being, or even respects me (the baby who can't speak loves me more than the sentient adults and children do) enough of that depressing stuff though because i love gunwook yay!
"seojun chew your food! stop spitting at haneul!"
"i— yuri! don't throw your food! i have to clean that later, you know!"
if you can't tell, y/n is currently at the end of the line right now. he groans and lets his head fall onto the counter, listening to the back and forth bickering of his three child siblings. it's 6:49 pm, and he is so so tired.
for the past four hours all he's simply been taking care of his brothers and sister, like he always does on the weekdays when he isn't working. he dislikes feeling tired; because there's still so much more to do even if they're already in the evening.
y/n can't remember the last time he earned a proper break, or was actually treated his age. his mom (who he absolutely despises at the moment and will probably despise forever), decided to have kids right when her son began high school, which means that he is now an eighteen year old high school graduate with two four year old boys and a three year old girl on his hands.
and y/n is as stressed as can be. it's not like before his mother was this amazing, flawless parent who did a good job at raising him, she wasn't, he had to learn every single basic life skill on his own because his mom was busy gambling away their money.
when he was ten she swore to him that he'd get better.
but she never really did.
and now she's out throwing all her money away at the casino, whilst he stays over at home making sure her kids are well fed, can sleep properly at night, and don't kill each other as they're trying to do now.
y/n knows it's not his job to do this, these aren't his kids, he can move out any time he pleases and leave his mom to actually have responsibility over her own children for once in her life, but he just doesn't have the heart to leave them.
he's practically raised these kids since the first day they came home from the hospital. he's the one who gave the twins their nicknames, the one who was present when all three of them walked for the first time, spoke their first words, began responding to him and what he'd say.
they're not his kids, he didn't choose to bring them into this world, but at the same time, he won't just leave them. he's been.. searching, trying to find a place whilst also trying to provide for his siblings at the same time, he barely makes minimum wage, he doesn't even know if he could rent a place.
as he stares at his young siblings, now cleaned up and simply watching cartoons while sitting on the couch. he sighs, simply wanting to collapse onto the floor and not get up for a long amount of time and just.. not exist anymore.
sometimes it gets so difficult, having to go to school five days a week, pick up his siblings from daycare then proceed to take care of them until their bedtime, make sure the house is clean, then watch as his mom strolls in at midnight, having wasted her money and usually wasted herself. he'd then work for a full 10 hours on saturday and sunday.
wow, his life is crazy is it not?
and he just turned eighteen like.. yesterday.
it pisses him off, yeah, but at the end of the day, he just deals with the circumstances of his life. he's gotten used to being the responsible one, being the one who takes care of the kids and is constantly sleep deprived.
y/n is about to fall asleep on the kitchen counter, the sound of the tv playing just melting into the air as he feels his eyes grow heavier and heavier by the second. his head is about to fall onto the counter when the doorbell rings, startling him.
y/n rubs his eyes, attempting to blink away the tiredness as he stands up and walks towards the door. he tells his siblings to continue watching tv and ignore it, when he opens the door, he smiles at who he sees.
"gunwook".
gunwook smiles, holding up a plastic bag. y/n tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. "what is in that exactly?" he inquires, and his boyfriend chuckles at him.
"candy" he responds simply. the three kids on the couch immediately perk up at the sound of the word "candy", toothy grins coming to their face.
"candy!?" haneul squeals, practically sprinting his way towards gunwook, he jumps up and down, seemingly energetic before even eating the sugary treats.
"if you want candy, sit down okay?" y/n places his hand on his head, ruffling his hair. haneul stares at his older brother, his boyfriend, then back at the couch where his own siblings are kicking their feet.
haneul shuffles his way back to the couch, and gunwook closes the door. y/n stares at him tiredly, but he smiles at the sight of him. "candy at seven pm? really?"
"what? your siblings deserve something sweet!"
"well, you didn't just witness them trying to kill each other with spaghetti, did you?"
gunwook shoves his partner's shoulder lightly, and y/n laughs. "okay, not too much candy, they have to sleep at night" he just earns a grin from gunwook, who nods.
"i got it y/n, you tell me all the time".
"you buy my siblings sweets all the time".
"because i love them" gunwook opens the bag as he says those words, and haneul gasps in delight. "just one piece, okay? your bedtime is soon".
seojun agrees, his voice muffled because of the treat he's chewing. haneul nods happily, and yuri gives a thumbs up, kicking her feet. gunwook gives the three a huge smile, enamored but their cuteness.
y/n stares at the scene unfolding before him, smiling fondly as he watches. gunwook isn't a kid person, but gunwook adores his siblings, always willing to come over to just see them.
the two have been dating for maybe half a year, but they've been friends for much longer than that. gunwook knows about y/n's situation, how he's stuck taking care of siblings because even though he wants to leave, he doesn't have the heart to leave them because his mom can't provide for them.
gunwook usually always comes over, whenever y/n is especially tired and simply feels like he can't do anything, gunwook will keep his siblings company as he collects himself.
of course, having to take care of your three child siblings whilst just becoming an adult yourself can take a huge mental toll on someone, and y/n isn't really doing well in this situation.
he blinks and sighs, covering his face in his hands as he feels his body about to slump over. he really just wants to fall on the floor and not wake up for a super long time.
when he focuses again, gunwook is now coloring with the three, who (surprisingly) stopped eating their candy and didn't ask for any more. gunwook has always had this power, he's always been able to easily calm down the kids amazingly.
a sort of charm, maybe.
gunwook notices his partners silence and turns to look at him, blinking. "y/n? everything okay?"
y/n hums, focusing once more. "yeah just.. tired".
gunwook stares, a knowing glint in his eye. he then looks back to the three coloring and smiles at them. "you guys continue, okay? i'm just gonna go talk to y/n".
the three nod, quickly going back to their coloring sheets and completely ignoring when gunwook stands up and turns y/n's way.
y/n is confused for a moment, he's about to question what gunwook meant but he quickly wraps an arm around his waist, nudging him lightly in the waist as they begin walking down the hallway.
"when was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep, babe?" he immediately asks when the two of them are far away enough from the kids, y/n chuckles depressingly, because they both already know the answer to that question.
"do my eye bags not give it away?"
y/n laughs awkwardly, and gunwook simply glares at him.
"y/n" gunwook grabs his hands, and y/n shuts his eyes. "you really need to leave, what? are you gonna do this forever?"
"i'm not i just—" y/n pauses, god he's so tired, he feels like he can barely get his words out at this point. "i can't leave, it feels selfish to leave".
"it's not selfish to leave if your already doing everything, y/n, think about yourself, please?"
gunwook's words are said simply, he doesn't raise his voice, his tone doesn't change, he just tells it to y/n how it is, he tells him his opinion calmly and without issue.
ah, charms.. as usual.
y/n grasps his hands harder, as if he never wants to let go. he processes the words but he can't find a way to respond to them, for some reason. he blinks, staying quiet.
"i'll find you something y/n" gunwook whispers. "and you'll finally be able to live your own life, and take care of yourself, and.. you'll be fine".
y/n laughs silently. "your corny".
"corny? really?"
y/n laughs again.
"y/n, i just want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy, you deserve good things" gunwook says, and y/n somehow keeps the tears from falling from his eyes.
y/n lightly nudges him, and gunwook puts his arm around his waist once again. "you are corny".
"you love my corniness".
"yes, yes i do, how'd you know?"
they laugh, and y/n takes a few more seconds to simply stare fondly at gunwook. of course, his life wasn't ideal, his life wasn't amazing, he had many struggles it'd take a while to deal with.
but he had gunwook, gunwook was there for him, and that was more than enough.
gunwook was there for him.
and he's always will be.
#park gunwook#zerobaseone#zb1#zb1 gunwook#park gunwook x reader#zb1 imagines#zb1 scenarios#zb1 drabbles#park gunwook imagines#𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!
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Anonymous asked: Since you are the Boromir Blog, I’d humbly like to offer you my Boromir headcanon.
So, we all know that Faramir is the forgotten child. Nothing is ever good enough and Denethor doesn’t bat an eye at him unless he has something to complain about. Boromir is the absolute favorite. I have concluded that this means that Boromir is most definitely saddled with sky high expectations for everything he does. Faramir can’t do anything right, Boromir isn’t allowed to do anything wrong.
And this entire situation is worse since Boromir grew up in a period of heavy societal unrest. His country is falling apart at the seams and he is the one supposed to keep it together. This expectation has been put upon him since he was little too, so he probably has an extreme fear of failure. With their mother passing away and Denethor rather ignoring Faramir’s existence, a lot of the bonding and comfort tasks were probably shoved onto Boromir too.
Boromir has to be perfect at everything he does; the perfect brother, the perfect son, the perfect noble, the perfect soldier, the perfect protector, the perfect everything. Boromir is this (/\) close to burning out, but if he were to do that, countless of people would die. This man is ten minutes and some bad news away from collapsing on a good day, but nobody other than Faramir gets to notice because he has to keep everything up. If he doesn’t live up to Father’s expectations, he also can’t keep his ire away from Faramir. If he doesn’t live up to expectation, his people will lose their lives.
TLDR: I hc that Boromir was raised to be the ‘perfect older sibling’ type on steroids + the looming threat of his country collapsing. I think not enough people account for the fact that Denethor wouldn’t be good for his other son either, it just goes in the opposite direction than Faramir. I am so sorry for the rant, I just need someone to yap to.
Anonymous Messages!
AH! OKAY! Firstly, thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to message me, Nonnie! I know it might seem silly to say, but truly, it means the world to me that you feel comfortable to do so. Never apologize for sending something to me - I LOVE hearing your thoughts and opinions on things, whether it be of my own work or just the wonderfulness that is our beloved Steward-Prince. My inbox is ALWAYS open; I value your time and friendship beyond what words could express. I also want to say thank you for the lovely compliment! I only hope and pray that I do Boromir justice! Our dashing boy deserves nothing but the best - and I do hope that my writing continues to provide that for him and you.
Secondly, that headcanon SHOULD be solid canon, and no, I won't hear otherwise. More so seen in the movies than in the books, it's clear that Boromir feels to be under constant stress and pressure. Not solely from his position as steward-prince or as captain, but as brother and son, like you mentioned. Look, Denethor was obviously devastated after the death of his dear wife. He went mad with grief. He lost part of himself when she was gone; he'd never come to love again. HOWEVER. That doesn't make what he's done to his children alright or appropriate. Bouncing off of what you've said, I find that Boromir had to be more than just a brother-figure to Faramir. Both father and mother when he was only a boy, a protector and provider. Not that he would've minded much, though, for it's very obvious that he adores little brother and loves him more than, well, literally anything. I mean, heck, JRR makes a point about this in his OFFICIAL works.
But back to your point, 100% yes! It isn't that Boromir can't mess up, he isn't allowed to. No mistakes may be made. No time for accidents or imperfections - its the demands of both his father and his kingdom. Boromir, as you beautifully wrote, must be PERFECT in all ways. Naturally, I find him to be a people pleaser, too. He hates to see others upset. He'd do whatever he had to in order to make things better - even at the cost of his own happiness. Personally, I believe, Denethor trained him for such a role. Almost too good, Boromir, now as an adult, is unable to overcome this intense sense of perfectionism. It's why the ONE RING was able to manipulate him and drive him to near MURDER. Boromir fears to be imperfect, worries so greatly about letting others down. Sauron understood this and used this against our dearest man! Really, had it not been because of the Ring's influence, I do think that, eventually, we would have seen Boromir completely snap. Not violently, of course, but just be so overpowered by exhaustion and defeat. There's only so much a man can bear before he crumbles.
In all honesty, Boromir is someone who needs soft attention and kind words. He's carried an entire kingdom upon his shoulders, never been allowed to rest and actually take time to himself. Sure, Denethor favors him over Faramir, but have we ever seen Denethor actually be gentle to his eldest son? Least, when the years of boyhood were replaced by man? Congratulating your child over a victory against Orcish invaders is awesome and all, but sometimes, your child would like to be told that they are loved, also. I would NEVER say that Faramir deserved his treatment, but, consider Boromir for a moment. He's only seen as a soldier in his father's eyes, a physical pawn, someone who looks great and does well at his job. Do I think Denethor loves Boromir? Yes, I do. Do I think that he has said as much to him face-to-face, especially in recent? No, I don't. Much like we saw in the ROTK movie, Denethor loves Faramir but didn't say so, not even at the END. By the powers of his depression or the palantir regardless, Denethor doesn't see either of his sons as his babies, his little boys, the treasures born of his beloved wife.
Boromir and Faramir are means to an end for Denethor, though those ends fork onto two very different paths. Faramir is the son who can do all but right; Boromir can do all but wrong.
And no matter how you look at it, it's beyond heartbreaking!
#anonymous#Homeward Bound \\ OOC#Gathering of the Clouds \\ OOC Answered#Shadow of the Past \\ Headcanons#(( ALL credit goes to you lovely Anonymous!!#(( Finduilas would be GRIEF-STRICKEN to see how her babies were being neglected and treated :(#(( Denethor of the past would be HEARTBROKEN to see what he would do onto his sons!
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on the subject of madness, peeling back the curtain, and my muses
so it's canonical lore to the novel series that the discovery of vampires is enough to drive a human to madness... when anne wants it to be.
we see this concept repeat in the image of doomed babbette in louis' recollection, as well as daniel himself as outlined in his chapter in qotd. however, anne herself seems to play hard and fast with this rule as the series goes on -- while most humans likely see l*stat's schtick as simple kayfabe, gleefully oblivious to his true nature and instead seeing him as just another glam rocker with a brand from the 80s, there are several mortal characters in later novels that simply... take it square on the chin?
you can write off a few of them as being of supernatural stock themselves/able to endure in the vein of the m*yfairs, but then you also have normal humans like dora who for some reason is not immediately unraveled a la aforementioned babs and danny. likewise, gabrielle does not have some great revelation when her son is revealed to be a vampire, while n1cki appears to have his nervous constitution enhanced by his damnation.
and for my own muses? i kind of pull from that tvl concept of 'it depends on the person.'
among my own muses, candel and susan as a mystic and a psychic can both be said to be... resistant to the realization. but then i have characters like gabrielle, claude, and kris who take the idea of vampirism with grace. gabrielle wants immediate relief from mortality, claude is steadfast in denial in all but a handful of verses, and kris' reaction to vampires being real is no steeper than 'get the gun' because she has this realization when she thinks herself to be in immediate danger. josette is mischaracterized by those who knew her as losing her mind in college and abandoning her life in new orleans after some revelation, but she actually sustained her mind and reason in contrast to the reputation her actions cultivated. while it might unsettle to realize humanity is no longer the top of the foodchain, it doesn't mean everyone's sanity starts peeling away like old wallpaper.
the exceptions to this actually have reason to be such.
my daniel was the right age for certain bad brains to make themselves known. if anything, his brush with death in that san francisco rented room just kicked everything into motion. the obsession, the delusion, the self-importance, it was all an inheritance from his mother only helped along by his experiences. the 'madness' was going to come upon him all the same. the sudden upending of his worldview only provided fertile ground for it to take root and flourish unchecked for nearly a decade to follow. it's part of why he stays on top of therapy even today -- vampires didn't start this any more than vampirism quelled it.
karin is in much the same boat. she has childhood trauma neatly tucked out of sight that already puts her on shaky terms with reality at times, hypervigilant, paranoid. throw in the year of being gaslit by her inhuman employers and she was also going to crack regardless. her run in with a vampire unassociated with the coven was just the last push she needed to topple over the edge. her return intent on doing her boss' head in was less knoweldge-induced insanity as it was common sense after the experience she had with his kind.
even babette, i'd argue, had a reason to topple all the way down. already consumed by grief and stress after her brother's death, and being a historical woman inclined to church-sanctioned lack of objective logic, i'm sure that realizing her neighbor and mentor was a gothic novel monster was enough to send her careening to a low point. she was never going to get objectivity about the situation to reason it out or have support, to the point in my writing her own descendants believe her to have done war with a devil as some fantastical cautionary tale.
tl;dr anne is truly wild for acting like finding out you're not the final word on evolution as a human would drive you insane just because. that's the exception rather than the rule in my writing. most people are pretty well adjusted and can be unsettled or even get a little weird about it without going full tilt into bedlam.
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Noel's Letter To My Younger Self - The Big Issue
Quotes that stood out to me from Noel’s personal essay Letter To My Younger Self with The Big Issue magazine.
Note: for those outside the UK, The Big Issue is a newspaper style magazine that offers homeless people an opportunity to earn money. Homeless people stand on the street with an armful of magazines and will shout out to passers-by if they want to buy one, so to get a physical copy, you need to buy it direct from a homeless person selling it. This might provide some context for Noel's political comments.
“I was always a hopeful child if not always a happy one.”
“All I was interested in was music and escapism.”
"If my upbringing taught me anything, it was resilience, I got that from my mum."
“[Peggy’s] bark was fucking ferocious. Her bite was non-existent. She had very, very bad language. That’s where I learned to swear, from my mum.”
“When I was a teenager I romanticised everything…I didn’t know it at the time but I was already laying the groundwork for what I would become - an artist, a romantic.”
“[the Irish folk musicians] can make the most miserable subjects sound amazing and almost spiritual. I love that and I love it to this day.”
“Singing is good for the soul. It releases endorphins in the brain, you get high from singing. It’s why people sing at church. Football stadiums are the working man’s cathedrals.”
“And then one day Liam just said, you write songs, play us one of yours…It was only when other people joined in on my music and Liam started singing that the light bulb went off. And it was like, wow, actually, this could be really fucking good. I can’t articulate what kind of emotion it was. It was not a massive eureka moment, but it wasn’t indifference either.”
Translating Noel: it was a fucking massive eureka moment hearing his brother sing the songs he’d written
“You never knew what mood Liam was going to turn up in and I found the whole thing really fucking stressful.”
“I might step in to press pause on my younger self a few times and say hang on a minute. Can we just go back a couple of months and fucking fix this?”
“I feel sorry for young people growing up in this country now, Brexit has been a fucking absolute unmitigated disaster…Politics has come to a fucking dead end…I don’t understand what any of them stand for anymore."
“The Tories are going to run this country into the ground and then pass it over to Labour and say good luck with that."
"[the politicians living in London] might want to get on a train once in a while and get outside of the M25 and you'll see how much of a fucking shithole this country is in."
"In the outskirts of Manchester where I was born, everything is boarded up. Everything is gone. This was supposed to be a modern world where nobody was gonna get left behind.”
N.B. It was David Cameron who said nobody would be left behind in a Tory Britain.
“Music of all forms is so fucking middle class now. The working class musician is at the bottom of the pile now. That’s why music is shit because youth culture, 99 times out of 100, comes from the working class. That’s why so many kids now are loving Oasis. Because we were the real deal."
"Part of me is a little bit sad that no-one came to take our place. No one's come along to speak for them [youth] about their lives and their culture and where they're going next."
"Ive got two young sons...and I feel anxious for young guys. They don't really know how to behave with all this woke shit that's now foisted upon everybody. Angry white middle-aged women telling young guys how to behave and all this bollocks. I look at my sons and I have to put them in a headlock sometimes and say, don't worry about these people, just be who you are...They're shackled by the internet and wokeism and by living in a country where fuck all works."
"My 40s were the best decade of my life."
"Every day since I turned 50 has been a fucking ballache."
"If I could have one final conversation with anyone in my life...I'd talk to my ex-father-in-law who passed away recently. I didn't really get a chance to say goodbye . I'ld like to tell him what a great man I thought he was. And I'd also like to talk to my old granny, my dad's mum. I'd like just to say, you'll never fucking guess what happened to me and the other fella."
#Noel Gallagher#noel gallagher interview#some interesting things to ponder here#noel at a crossroads#not as at ease with himself as he'd have us believe me thinks#possibly wanting to mend bridges?
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So, it's Christmas time and i thought about something cute that would match the little interaction between Thena and Jack. Jack would have loved Gil and his food. So maybe Gilgamesh is helping Jack to bake some cookies and other sweet things for a Christmas charity event at Jacks school. The earned money will go to poor families and their children, who cannot afford buying Christmas presents. So Gil and Thena, obviously, and Ben and Phastos are there, at this charity event, watching (and maybe helping) Jack selling the self-made stuff to nice people.
I hope you feel better and less stressed. No one needs Christmas filled with stress and discomfort. It should be a time of joy and making other people and yourself happy.
Once again i want to thank you for your work, for your stories and your kind words. You're a special person, bringing so much light to the people in this fandom. Thank you. 🖤✨🎄
"Will you two stop feeding each other cookies!"
Thena and Gil both barely looked at Phastos, caught up in sharing cookies one bite at a time until they would inevitably end up kissing. Thena licked her lips, "it's only one cookie each time."
"Thena, I swear to-" Phastos huffed but cut himself off. He knew damn well that not only was it futile to argue with his sister, especially over something like this, but also that they were here for more important things.
"Hey, I made them," Gil complained loudly before kissing Thena even louder again. "I get to use them to lure my wife into kissing me as much as I want."
"Jack made them," Phastos corrected his incorrigible siblings freely, "you two canoodled the whole time."
"Actually, Dad, Uncle Gil made them," Jack corrected, completely oblivious to how he was betraying his father. "I helped measure some of the stuff, but Aunt Thena and I mostly decorated them."
Yes, Thena had been giving only white icing and very specific instructions. If given red frosting at all, she tended to start illustrating various injuries on the gingerbread men.
Ben turned away from yet another sale, putting away the profit in the name of charity. "Leave them be, Habibi."
"They're eating the product," Phastos reminded his husband with a hand on his shoulder, "it's not good business practice."
"Thank you," Jack smiled as he sold another cookie to another bake sale goer. He looked back at his family, "it's okay, Dad. Uncle Gil said he that he would make extra just for this."
Of course he did. Phastos rolled his eyes before glaring at his brother, "you are the worst, y'know that?"
"Hm, I can't hear you," Gil laughed. He was far too immersed as Thena raised another shortbread to his lips, letting him take the first bite. She leaned in for the second, and once again, by the third, he was kissing the buttery crumbs off her lips for her.
Phastos shook his head, instead looking down at his son, "how are things lookin', buddy?"
"I think we're almost there," Jack smiled, looking into the box provided by the school to keep their earnings in. They would all be compiled together into a water cooler jug and then donated to the appropriate local resources to help those who couldn't buy gifts for this season.
"We're very proud of you, Jack," Ben smiled at their son, running a hand over the boy's hair. "It was a great idea to volunteer for the charity bake sale."
"Well, I knew Uncle Gil would help with the baking," Jack admitted sheepishly.
"Hey, I would have helped you," Phastos frowned.
"Yeah, but Uncle Gil's cookies are the best."
Phastos sighed, patting his poor, weathered heart, "gets me every time."
"He's right," Thena stated proudly, much to her brother's further frustration. She leaned over her nephew's shoulder, admiring his riches. "Is this sufficient?"
"I think so, and we're almost sold out!" Jack grinned at their increasingly sparse inventory. "I knew they'd be popular."
"Everything Uncle Gil makes is popular," she smiled at Jack, patting his shoulder in a rare instance of physical affection.
"It's a wonder we got any sales with you two back here makin' out the whole time," Phastos turned on them again, batting Gil with his scarf in substitute of snapping a towel at him.
"Jack wanted us to come!" Gil laughed, swatting away the scarf easily. "And I told him expressly there would be kissing."
"They're always kissing," Jack shrugged as he sorted the money in their box properly. "I'm used to it by now."
Thena made her way back to her husband's side, grabbing the end of Phastos' scarf and taking it for herself. "Now that this is done, is it technically your winter break?"
"Yep!" Jack turned to his Aunt with a grin, having told her excitedly that once he was officially on Christmas break from school that he wanted to do all kinds of things with her and Uncle Gil. "Can we still build a giant hill to go sledding on?"
"Anything you want," Thena responded instantly her sweet nephew.
"Yes!"
"Excuse me," Phastos frowned, still reaching for his scarf and still being denied. "What giant hill is this?"
"Dad, it's fine," Jack pouted, already whining about his father's habit of overprotectiveness.
"Yeah, I'll be there," Gil shrugged, letting Thena wind Phastos' scarf around his neck instead. "And she won't let anything happen to him."
Phastos knew that, of course, but he still had very strict rules about Jack's feet leaving the ground and for how long.
"Let them go sledding, my love," Ben attempted to placate his husband, pulling him over for a kiss of their own. "We have last minute shopping to do."
"You're right, you're right," the Genius Eternal sighed against his husband's shoulder. They had a few last things to pick out for Jack, a few items Ben insisted he wanted to get for Gil and Thena (despite Phastos' insistence that they neither needed nor deserved them).
And Jack specifically had requested to get something for Aunt Thena all by himself. Which they would let him do, but they were going to go today to scope out exactly what to steer him towards given the time and budget they had.
"Fine, just behave like adults," Phastos snapped his finger and pointed at the couple once again canoodling. Thena glared at him, in the middle of using his scarf to pull Gil towards her again. It was Gil's scarf, now. "Human adults, please."
"Yes, sir," Gil gave him a mocking salute, which only increased Phastos' dread. They brought Jack over to the teachers supervising the event, just until he was finally free to join them again.
"Hm?" Thena tilted her head at Gil as he rubbed her back idly.
"It's cute," he shrugged, watching their brother and his family from afar, "all their little traditions."
"Isn't it?" she sighed, leaning against his shoulder as if they were curled up in front of a fire, and not sitting in uncomfortable, state-funded plastic chairs. "Jack seems happy."
Gil rubbed her arm. Her utter adoration of their nephew continued to make his heart throb in his chest. "Do you want any presents?"
"Presents?"
"Yeah," Gil grinned as she looked at him with those big green eyes. "All this talk of them has me thinking about it, I guess."
But Thena happily snuggled right up to him, even loosening the scarf around his neck enough for her to poke her head in with his. He eagerly pulled her right into his lap in return. "You're the only gift I need."
"Aw," he cooed, making her laugh in his arms, "being around humans makes you so sappy."
"You don't think it's being married to you for hundreds of years?"
"It can be both."
#okay so first of all#you are so sweet#and this is so lovely#honestly the holidays are kind of rough for me personally#but since I started writing in this fandom#asks like this and people like you have really gotten me through#so thank you#I hope everyone is doing something kind for themselves today#no matter what kind of day it is for them#happy mistlefoe season everyone!#also shoutout to#taran-chan#because this is absolutely in reference to her last post#and as for#Jack and Thenamesh#Jack wants to get something special for Aunt Thena#who will say she doesn't understand why he thought she needed anything#but also no one is allowed to touch it forever back off#they take him sledding#after building a hill that's so high the city is...alarmed#but Jack has the time of his life#and Phastos has a heart attack because Jack flies through the air and separates from the sled every time#but of course Aunt Thena and Uncle Gil are there to catch him#every time
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My mom said my sister in law is going to let us take Dominic out on our own for the first time next Saturday like lmao don't get your hopes up theyre gonna renege on that promise
#imagine being someones aunt and not having the chance to take that child out even once in their 6 years of life#my mom must be so pissed bc i know its worse for her as a grandma to have such limited access to these kids bc my sister in law &her family#are more fucked up than ours#sorry that youre all jealous that im his favorite person in the world 🙄#you know theyre pissed that he is so attached to us despite the limited time we get to spend with them and its... idk distressing that they#think like that instead of being happy that we care about him and worry about him and would gladly offer to help them out more esp because#they always use him being on the spectrum as an excuse to claim he's a difficult child like rip to u bitches for not educating yourselvesso#about autism and getting mad at the child for not being 'normal' like sorry you refuse to curb your expectations but you should#he's a good kid with an appropriate level of curiosity and energy yall just took too long to seek professional help when the signs were in#your face so of course its gonna be harder to teach him anything bc you freaks also refuse to set up a good learning environment#yes im criticizing them as an individual who has no children but if I WAS a stay at home mom the situation would be very different#i would cook healthy meals instead of waiting for the daily McDonald's meal to show up. i would create better routines and devote more time#to my child instead of staring at my phone all day and delegating the task to my adolescent nephews/nieces and my mom and her gf#i also know how to drive like wtf does this bitch think shes doing complaining that she does so much girl you dont even drive... all the#stress is on my brother to provide everything and make time to take his son to therapy and doctors appointments bc YOU DONT DRIVE#she says shes the one that does it like no... someone is taking you so youre not doing it at all#like. i see the videos of my brother at the physical therapist with his son youre not gonna tell me thats you 🙄#the bar is on the floor with this bitch (yes i dislike her ❤ but i have to be nice bc oh boy if im not theyll go back to that phase of not#letting us see the kids again) but ohhhhhhhhh im so annoyed rn its so annoying that ppl become parents and expect their kids to be easy and#not require 100% of their parents attention love an patience#if they get divorced idc my brother better try to get custody but god that would be rough#if he moves back in he'll be able to say there are 3 adults to watch the kids & we can provide financially and have the space for everyone#but i know moms usually get custody even if in this case it wouldnt be the best outcome
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maybe i do | kth. III
➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.
↳ part of the high-class series!
➵ pairing : taehyung x reader
➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst
➵ rating : 18+
➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)
➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)
➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!
chapter three : ��the window opened one time with you and me”
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“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.
How incredibly wrong that was.
“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned.
“Good. You?”
“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.
“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.
“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.
“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.
Anything but you.
“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.
You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.
Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice.
“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.
Disappointment.
She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter.
Typical.
“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.”
You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?”
“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase.
And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater.
Your mother.
“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother.
“What do you mean?”
“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you.
“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting.
You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes.
“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”
“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.
“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago.
“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into.
An argument.
“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated.
“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.
“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”
“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.”
“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.”
“Excuse me? Definition?”
“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two.
“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back.
“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!”
“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”
“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt.
You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier.
“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering.
“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?”
“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.
“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.
“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it.
“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air.
Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”
You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”
“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.”
If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.
Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided.
But this, this was where your mother won.
Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading.
To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours.
It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable.
“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.
“What did you say to me?”
“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!”
“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!”
“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!”
“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression.
You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”
This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face.
You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound.
It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known.
“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this.
Not at something as undeserving as your mother.
“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you.
A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke.
“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.”
Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?”
You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.”
“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended.
“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way.
“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands.
She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face.
It was too much, she was too much.
Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.
Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life.
Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.
It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother.
Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm.
Taehyung.
You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying.
Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you.
And it didn’t work.
Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door.
He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity.
He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home.
Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study.
Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home.
More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways.
“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of.
He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you.
“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature.
Taehyung grimaced.
“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.
He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.
“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.
“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”
Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good.
“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him.
He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother?
This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true.
They simply weren’t.
“Leave my house, this instance.”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”
Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest.
There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you?
It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true.
Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.
Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.
“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”
“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”
And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer.
Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it.
Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you.
What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now.
You didn’t fucking deserve that at all.
It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife.
Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this.
He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce.
Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy.
He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.
He knew nothing about you.
He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to.
He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.
And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him.
So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened.
But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you.
So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase.
You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them.
You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride.
Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this.
Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.
“Y/N?”
You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?”
Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air.
“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.
“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.
“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.
“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.
And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.
Until your last braincell kicked in.
“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.
And you knew he knew.
“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest.
It was fucking poetic.
“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.”
“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.
It was odd.
“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.
“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.
You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression.
“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge.
He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.
It couldn’t be real.
But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.
You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side.
“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.
So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.
“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.
Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t.
“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless.
“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered.
“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”
“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true.
Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away.
And he still fucking hated it.
Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so.
“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.
You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.
Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.
“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.
“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”
“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-”
“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.
“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar.
And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago. You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.
Especially if it meant him.
“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word.
Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before.
And you really did like the way he smiled.
He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.”
“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again.
“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.”
You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted.
“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you.
Did he just call you pretty?
You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face.
Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this.
“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.
“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.
Those fucking eyes.
Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.
He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was.
And he suppressed a stupid grin.
Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.
Cute, he thought.
He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.
He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.
He was just so beautiful.
You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.
“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms.
You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.
“Right.”
It had been a week since that incident.
Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.
Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work.
You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.
You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.
That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.
“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.”
“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.
It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.
“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling.
“Hm?” You looked up.
“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.
Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?
Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news.
“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”
“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.
You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”
You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event.
“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad.
“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.
“I know, I bought one for you.”
You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?”
“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”
You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”
“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.
“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.
“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.
“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”
“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.
“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife.
“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered.
“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.”
“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.
“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time.
“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself.
“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”
Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”
“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence.
Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late.
“Oh shit, I have to go.”
“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name.
“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving.
“Yes?”
“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house.
Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it.
You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed.
Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label.
Chanel.
You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain.
It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp.
Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear.
You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt.
Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it.
Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead.
It was bordering 6:30 now.
You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people.
It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding.
And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos.
Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.
You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’.
It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife.
So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung.
You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves.
The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin.
You couldn’t stop blushing at all.
Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.
“I’m in our room!”
He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it.
He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through.
He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly.
His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone.
And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life.
He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.”
You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.
“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?”
“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung.
You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.”
You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches.
He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.
And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other.
He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher.
“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment.
How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?
You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe.
“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too.
“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off.
“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent.
Peonies.
He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.
“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome.
This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.
“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.
“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.
You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car.
He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete.
You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.
You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people.
Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check.
“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene.
“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you.
You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again.
And again, it sent shivers down your spine.
“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers.
You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown.
He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today.
It was probably better to stay silent.
So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you.
This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway.
And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?
You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.
“Kiss her!”
It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.
“Y/N, look at me.”
“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.
He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile.
And it damn well worked.
Taehyung was right about the size of this gala.
Huge.
It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected.
It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you.
You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.
He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies.
Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs.
“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.”
Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.
“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark.
“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his.
“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.” A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.
“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted.
“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one.
“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly.
“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.
“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit.
“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy.
“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious.
He almost felt like the sun.
“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information.
“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two.
“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.
“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark.
“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest.
He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”
“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.
“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy.
The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun.
“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun.
“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised.
“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back.
“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.”
“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized.
“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.”
“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.
“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.
“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed.
You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?”
“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point.
“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect.
“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes.
“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone.
“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled.
“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group.
You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly.
Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless.
“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.
“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation.
“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered.
“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone.
“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered.
Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose.
It was refreshing.
“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker.
“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others.
“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical.
“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi.
“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along.
“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush.
“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased.
“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing.
“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you.
You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him.
You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident.
Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether.
He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you.
“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering.
What would you say?
“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again.
He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned.
And he oddly felt.. nice.
“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction.
“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him.
“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully.
“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting.
“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.
Until Taehyung spoke.
“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.”
The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you.
Is this what it feels like to win at life?
His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side.
“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!”
And it only made the men crack up even harder.
It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant.
It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall.
You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met.
Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings.
It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles.
That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura.
“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard.
Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.”
“Then why is he here?”
“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.
“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.
“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself.
“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed.
“Taehyung, who?”
“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up.
Something was seriously wrong.
You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him.
“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies.
Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type.
“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.
It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand.
“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever.
Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.
“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you.
“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both.
“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly.
“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.
“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice.
“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him.
“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them.
“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy.
“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.
“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.
“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?”
Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.
You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety.
Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.”
This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?”
“Oh, so she talks.”
You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.
“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that.
“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.
“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.”
“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash.
“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes.
Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot.
Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened.
“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.
“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins.
But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name.
“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.
Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible.
He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.
“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him.
Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve.
You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move.
“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.
“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.”
Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.
“Tae-”
“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it.
“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves.
“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”
“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly.
Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady.
“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?”
“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.
“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again.
Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you.
“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly.
“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.
“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him.
“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass.
“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”
“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.
“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said.
And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought.
“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face.
“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?”
“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth.
Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest.
You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.
It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it
You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.
Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now.
Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.
It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries.
But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips.
He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk.
Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway.
“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?”
“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you.
“Okay, we’re coming.”
“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it.
Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully.
“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.
“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.
“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.
You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt.
You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were.
Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it?
Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips.
Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes.
He said they were nice.
You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.
It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it.
And you already felt doomed.
You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy.
“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired.
You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.”
“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up.
“..Yes.” You answered confused.
The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.”
Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever.
You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.”
“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together.
“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond.
They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought.
“What exactly are you trying to get at?”
“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.”
You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up.
“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened.
“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation.
With a snarky last word.
“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething.
You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth.
“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.”
“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood.
Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table.
Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes.
Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.
“I said nothing.”
Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.
And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces.
Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you.
He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him.
He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid.
“Nothing, Taehyung.”
Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?”
“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter.
Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason.
Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan.
It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.
“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them.
“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?”
“Yeah, too long!”
“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them.
The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully.
“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face.
“Actually, I didn’t.”
Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?”
“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”
“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous.
“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.”
Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.
“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave.
“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them.
Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”
Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself.
You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.”
You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.
And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.
So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you.
“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think.
Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now.
He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it.
“People are watching?” You inquired.
“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self.
“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second.
Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace.
You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips.
Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.
He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks.
You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened.
Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue.
He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him.
“You called me Tae, you know.”
“What?”
“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”
“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.”
And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot.
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♡ starting prompt: “Everything changed for me when I met her... My Beloved.”
♡ pairing: yandere! damian wayne (Robin) & fem reader
♡ lyric inspiration: “imagine me and you? I do. I think about day and night, it’s only right, to think about the girl you love and hold her tight. so happy together.”
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / in this AU everyone in the batfamily is a yandere and probably has a darling so yeah.
Gotham Academy, for the wealthy and elite one might say. you were one of the lucky ones who got accepted through their scholarship programs and busted your ass off to keep your grades up all years.
you had very few friends considering most Academy students hardly interacted those who they deemed poor. one friend you did have though was the Wayne heir himself. Damian was one of the first to introduce himself to you when you first arrived to Gotham Academy and really remained your friend throughout the years.
the fresh morning air blew in the wind, making you pull your jacket closer to you as you tried to find warmth in it. the jackets they provided for your uniform were extremely thin and hardly held in any kind of heat.
“hey! I think the Wayne kid is looking for you!” you heard your friend, Reagan tell you, “he’s waiting for you at the central garden!” you gave him a smile, thanking him for letting you know before running to where Damian usually was in the morning.
your mornings with Damian, when he would attend school, would start with him bringing you your favorite coffee and switching homework assignments.
unlike Damian, you were usually better in courses that had to do with humanities, such as history and english courses and you lacked the smarts that Damian had with science and math courses so the two of you would swap homework first thing in the morning.
“good morning Wayne,” you said, sitting down on the bench. he handed you his coffee, blowing it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, “good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” he asked, making sure your eye bags weren’t too harsh.
you shrugged, “I’m okay. just stressed because of midterms and all of that. how did you sleep?” you asked, taking a sip of coffee. “great considering we fell asleep on Facetime together,” he mentioned, “I did the ap calc homework that you can finally copy!” he added on.
Damian handed you the calc homework as he watched you scribble down the answers. he noticed that you had painted your nails a new color and touched the polish with his finger, “baby blue? that’s new,” he murmured. you nodded happily, “I love this color on me. I even brought color with me in case it chipped throughout the day!” you exclaimed.
you showed him the bottle and he grabbed it, “put it on me,” you were taken back by the request. you didn’t take Damian was the kind of guy to dabble in wearing polish but nevertheless complied and put the polish on it before grabbing his hand and blowing on it to make it dry quicker, “I didn’t know you wore nail polish!” you mentioned.
Damian thought for a moment.
“I don’t but that way people will know we’re matching,” he murmured as the warning bell rang off.
you and Damian walked slowly to your first period class. the summer going into your Senior year, Damian made it a duty of his to make sure that the two of you shared the same classes. so without you knowing, he had Tim hack into the Gotham Academy school system and pull Damian onto the rosters where you were enrolled in.
you found the similarities to be funny, however; some of the teachers wondered how the hell they put the two of you in every class together. some didn’t care considering you were able to keep Damian from saying smart shit to someone in class and others were just weirded out by the coincidence.
“god, I hate this class. you know Matt who sits in front of the class? I have to swear some gross comment about how great my legs look in the uniform by him at least twice every day.”
Damian’s eye twitched at what you had said, “does it bother you?” he asked, his fist clenched. you nodded annoyingly, “more than anything in the world. I can’t go one day without hearing the comments,” you groaned.
the two of you got to class but as you walked in, you had saw that Matt wasn’t in class and sighed in relief. Damian had told you he was running off to the bathroom before class started and just to write down whatever he missed while he was gone.
you sat down, immediately writing what was already on the board but as the class started, Damian still hadn’t shown up. you were beginning to think that maybe the coffee had upset his stomach but about half way through the class, Damian came and plopped down at his desk.
“where were you? Jackson nearly had a fit because you were late!” you muttered to him. he shrugged, taking out his pen and notebook before leaning over to copy what you had on yours.
it took about another twenty minutes when another teacher ran into the class frantically, “Matthew Harrison was just found in the garden, unconscious and is barely hanging onto his life!” the teacher told your teacher, making all of you gasp in surprise, “call an ambulance!”
you stared to Damian wide eyed, “my God, that’s insane! we were just there. I wonder who did it,” you told Damian, chewing your lip nervously, “I hope whoever did it doesn’t come for any of us.”
Damian could tell you were scared from the news and he quickly grabbed your hand, “I think you’re safe, beloved. you shouldn’t worry about it,” he assured you. you nodded, going back to writing down the notes, “hey, he finally got what he deserved for harassing you, right?” Damian mentioned.
you laughed shaking your head, “I guess but I mean, I hope he doesn’t die or anything,” that was the last thing you said before the both of you got to working on the work the teacher assigned for the class while she was gone.
Damian could tell you were shaken by the news but at the end of the day, he did what he had to do. someone was harassing his beloved and he’d be damned if they got away with it. it took every ounce of self restriction to stop himself from actually killing the idiot but the beating he actually gave him did more than enough to satisfy him for the time being.
two broken legs, a broken nose, and making him go blind in one eye was more than enough. the great thing about Gotham Academy was that because of how old the building was, cameras weren’t installed anywhere outside and any cameras that were inside were just in the upgraded part of the school which happened to be the front of the school and the gym.
the end of the day came as Damian had offered to take you home. you denied the request, telling him you wanted to walk to get some fresh air before you trapped yourself in your room for the rest of the night.
Damian was hesitant on letting you but at the end of the day, you weren’t his...yet. he knew his feelings for you weren’t exactly normal. far from it, actually.
when his feelings for you boiled over to damn near obsession, he confided in the one person he trusted the most and that was Dick. he practically confessed how he needed to be near or around you every day or else he would go insane. even if it was just seeing you from afar made his day a 100x better.
Dick laughed at his brothers confession because he knew it was about time it happened to him. he had gone through the same feelings when he met his now wife and so did Bruce, Tim, Duke, and Jason.
when Damian was finally confident enough to tell everyone else, they finally let him in on the family secret. these feelings were nothing to be afraid of. he should embrace them and hell, make his feelings get even ‘worse’. it was his job as your protector to feel that way and act on his instincts for you.
Damian got home, seeing his father and brother watching the news. they were covering what happened at school and a part of him laughed seeing the coverage.
“did you see what happened?” Dick asked his brother. Damian nodded, kicking off his shoes and laying on the other couch, “of course I did because I was the one who did it,” he said nonchalantly.
Bruce and Dick stared at him, wide eyed and shocked, “the scum was messing with my beloved. he was making disgusting comments about her and degrading her in a way she and I didn’t like. the piece of shit deserved more than what he got,” he stated, not even bothering to look at them to see their reaction.
“so it’s best we don’t investigate this, I assume?” Bruce asked, “you would assume right,” Damian replied.
Dick got off the couch and went on one knee to look at his brother, “Damian, you know the implications that comes with how you left him. you know that, right?” he stated. Damian stared at Dick with no fear in his eyes, “everything changed for me when I met her... my beloved. I would kill for her if I had too.”
Bruce sat in his seat, proudly smirking at what his son said. Dick nodded, walking back to the couch as Damian stood up to go to his bedroom, “it’s only a matter of what before I make her mine so expect her to be around soon enough,” he told them.
+
a few weeks had passed since the incident with your classmate. since then, you had gotten clingier to Damian, not wanting to be at the end of the beating. Daimian had no issue in it, he was practically basking in the touches and side hugs you were giving him.
you and Damian had decided to head back to his place after school to get some studying done. Friday nights were usually reserved to studying at your place but Damian had offered to make you dinner at his place and study before watching a few movies.
you had never been over the Wayne manor before and frankly, you were kind of scared to run into his father. THE Bruce Wayne would most likely be in attendance and meeting the most powerful man in Gotham would probably scare anyone.
Damian unlocked the gate, quickly taking your backpack as you snuggled into his jacket. you were immediately welcomed by his butler, Alfred who offered to put both of you bags in the hallway so no one would step over them. you thanked him profusely, making Damian mutter to you that that’s why he was here. to serve you.
“so, what would you like to eat, beloved? I can make you anything you desire,” he boasted. you looked at the cookbook that was laid next to you and flipped through the first few pages, “this sounds nice,” you pointed to the plant based steak with veggies.
Damian quickly got to work, making the veggies first as he offered for you taste them every now and again. you would usually relay a kiss on his cheek as he finally got to cooking the steak. you couldn’t help but wonder how he got to be such a great cook, however; as he was finishing plating the food, you saw his father as well as you assumed were his brothers.
“uh Damian?” you mentioned, pointing to the three men who walked in. Damian sighed knowing that of course his brothers were going to come and annoy him, “who’s your friend?” Dick asked, putting his chin on his hand.
“this is ( your name ), my beloved,” he told them proudly. you were a bit taken back by the nickname he so easily used on you, “ahh, we’ve heard so much about you,” Tim continued, “she’s so pretty....she’s not like other girls,” Dick mocked.
your face felt a burning sensation as Bruce told his sons to be quiet, “nice to meet you ( your name ),” Bruce introduced, “welcome to the family,” you barely caught what he said as Damian excused the two of you to go up to his bedroom.
“your family is...nice,” you tried to say without sounding nervous. Damian rolled his eyes, “they’re bunch of idiots. that’s what they are,” he muttered, not bothering to look back at them.
once you got to his room, your mouth dropped a bit. you had never seen such a luxurious bedroom before. satin sheets, the coldest pillows, his bedroom could probably house a family if he really wanted too and the fact that this was his bedroom, you were taken back.
“wow, so this is how the rich and famous live?” you joked, sitting down on his bed. he shook his head, “all this means nothing to me...as long as you’re with me, I’d be the happiest person alive,” you stared at Damian, wondering if what he said was really true.
the two of you ate, mostly in silence as you tried to take what Damian had said. there had been rumors floating around Gotham Academy that Damian might’ve liked you. you tried to dispel the rumors, claiming that someone like you was no where near Damian’s type but now that you were hearing the words he was telling you, you were more keen on acting on his feelings.
after finishing dinner, he offered for you to join him on his bed to watch a movie. you had never actually gotten to hang out with Damian outside of school. since you were always so busy doing schoolwork and Damian always had things to take care of, as he put it, you two never relaxed together.
the aura in the room was cozy as he offered you a very expensive looking blanket to cover you up from the chilly air coming from his window. the movie the two of you picked was some random rom-com, it felt kind of stupid to be watching this kind of movie with Damian but at some point, you stopped paying attention to the movie and looked up to him.
“did you really mean what you said earlier?” you whispered to him. he gave you a confused look, “of course I did. would I ever lie to you?” he said back, kind of offended that you would even accuse him of lying.
you sat back up on the bed and turned to fix yourself as you finally gave him a kiss. Damian’s eyes widened, not expecting you to do that to him. regardless, he immediately pulled you on top of him and deepened the kiss by pushing you up against him.
Damian slid his hands in the back pocket of your skirt, finding it a bit confusing why the uniforms even had pockets on the skirts. he gripped your ass a bit, making you moan in surprise as Damian tried his hardest to contain himself but failing as he slipped his tongue into yours.
the two of you remained kissing for what felt like hours. you knew your lips were bound get bruised from the amount of tugging Damian was doing but by the time you pulled away, you could see the faintest of blushes appearing on Damian’s brown skin.
“wow, didn’t know you felt like that for me,” you muttered shyly. Damian chuckled, giving you a quick peck, “I have feelings you wouldn’t even begin to understand but one day....one day you will,” he replied.
you didn’t pay no mind to his reply as he had brought you down for another kiss. what you didn’t catch was the smirk playing on his face. he knew that once graduation came, there would already be a ring on that left ring finger and soon enough, you’d be baring his heirs.
the Wayne’s got what they wanted. it didn’t matter what they had to do to get it but what the Wayne’s wanted, they got.
#dc#dc comics#dc imagines#dc imagine#dc x reader#damian wayne#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#yandere damian wayne#yandere damian wayne x reader#yandere damian wayne imagine
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The Reward (Cillian Murphy x OC)
Summary: An oversight can change your life in a matter of seconds and it can lead you to lose a valuable member of your family. A lost dog in a new neighborhood. Endless hours of searching. A reward. It all lead them to find each other.
Cillian Murphy x OC
Parts: 3/7 more here
A/N: Scout is the star of this story, because I love dogs. A/N 2: This is my first Cillian Murphy fic, hope you like it! If you want me to tag you, just let me know :) your comments & feedback is appreciated ♥️
Notes: I got this beautiful picture from mrs_murphy52576xo on Ig! And I just finished reading the book, it’s a very good story :)
Edit: I found a slightly better picture♥️
This is the kind of place I imagined that’s described at the end.
Every time he had to say goodbye to Aidan his heart broke a little. He wanted to be involved in his son life, he wanted to see everything, being present.
Cillian really enjoyed to sit on the floor with him, chase after him in the park, make him laugh. Sometimes, he would just stare at him, discovering new things, new sensations and found himself smiling for no reason, collecting moments in his heart. Scout was a big part of those moments, he once found Aidan and Scout taking a nap on Scout’s bed.
And that’s exactly why he felt heartbroken.
Now, with Aidan back home with his mother and Scout missing, he would all by himself.
“Where are we going?” Asked the kid in the back of the car, interrupting Cillian’s thoughts.
“With your mother.”
“I want ascrim.”
“What?” His mum asked.
“He means ice cream.” Cillian said smiling.
“Sometimes I don’t understand a word he says.”
“Stores are not open yet Aidan.” He lied, if he arrived at his mother’s house dirty, Cillian would never see the end of it.
“Will she sign something?” His mum wondered. “Like some proof that we brought him.”
“According to my lawyer that’s not necessary, I just have to send an email to her lawyer and mine with a picture while he’s walking the steps.” Cillian said.
His lawyer decided to protect the arrangement to provide evidence if they needed it in the future. You never know what could happen and even though it wasn’t requested, Cillian decided it was a good idea, that way they would never be able to say he wasn’t around his son’s life. He also recently started a fund in a bank for his son’s future college.
Usually the pickup and drop off was handled by his mum, he didn’t even get close to the steps of his ex-house, let alone his ex-wife. He hoped in a future the relationship wouldn’t be so stressful, for the sake of his son.
Cillian stepped out of the car to help his mum, then he got Aidan out as well.
He bent down to be at his child height.
“Hey, I want you to be good ok?” He raised his hand and Aidan gave him a hi five. “Do you homework, obey your mother, brush your teeth at night too, and I will see you in a couple of days.”
The kid nodded and gave him a hug.
“Now give Momma a kiss too.”
Aidan took his grandma’s hand and walked towards his house.
“Bye daddu.” He said looking back at his dad.
“Bye kiddu.” Cillian answered with the same voice and waved his hand.
He decided to wait in the car for his mother, but after a couple of minutes, saw the two of them walk again towards the car, hand in hand. Cillian opened his door and put one foot on the floor, trying to guess what was happening.
“She is going to be out for the weekend, said she would leave him with her brother.” His mum announced.
“Of course not, I take care of my son.” Cillian lifted the kid and held him against his hip to accommodate him in his seat. “Let’s go mum.”
While he was surrounding the car, he raised his voice to say: “At least you could have my lawyer fucking know to save us the drive.” He knew she would be listening behind the door. But before she changed her mind, he drove away.
“Change of plans Aidan, it seems you will be with me a couple of days, is that all right?”
“All right!” He repeated chirpily. “Ascrim?”
Cillian and his mum laughed. Life would be easier if everything could be fixed eating ice cream.
“What flavor will you have baby?”
“Chocolate Momma!”
“I didn’t know they had turned Momma into chocolate.” Joked Cillian looking at his son through the rear-view mirror.
***
She usually took the bus to go to the restaurant, but now with her four-legged friend she couldn’t do it, so she hoped he would enjoy the ride as she rolled down the windows.
Her phone started ringing, it was Debbie.
“What do you mean you slept with him?!” her husband raised an eyebrow and slowly, made his way towards Debbie to listen over her shoulder.
“That means you are done with the banishment over men?” Jeremy asked. They were good friends.
“I’m talking about a dog, Jeremy, Liv slept with the dog she rescued.”
“Oh,” he looked disappointed. “I was hoping I could have a new friend to have a pint with.” He lost interest now and walked away from his wife.
“He was clean, as a matter of fact, smelled like he just got a shower, and I checked him.” Liv defended.
“Did you find the owners?”
“No.” Liv parked. “I hope I can find his family today.”
Debbie sighed. “But what if you don’t?”
“I’m going to take him to my parents’ house during the weekend, he can have more space there.”
“So, you are going to keep him?”
“What else am I supposed to do? I’m not going to abandon him.”
“I know you won’t. Send me his picture so I can ask around.”
And with that they said goodbye. She asked her furry friend to behave so he could join her while she worked. They walked out of the car and he trotted next to her.
“Hello everyone, today we have a very special guest with a refined discerning palate. So please go the extra mile today and he might even give you his paw.” She asked kindly to the staff of her restaurant.
“Oh, please get that furry thing away from my sight.” Chad asked making a face.
He was the manager of the restaurant, and a very close to her heart person.
But he didn’t like dogs.
“He’s charming Chad. I need some chicken for him please, just boil it with water, no onions, or garlic.”
“Just keep him away from my kitchen.”
“Can I have a volunteer to keep an eye on him?” Most of the personal got close to pet him and left smiling.
“I can take care of him.” Offered Jackie. “you know, stay outside in the back with the phone for the reservations.”
“You are the best, and you are getting a bonus for this.” They both smiled. “If you know someone who lost a dog let me know.”
Jackie started walking with him.
“Just be careful, he was trying to seduce me last night.” She joked.
“Everything is ready for tonight’s proposal.” Chad announced as they made their way thru the place where the event would happen. The big light room happened to be the most impressive and beautiful part of the restaurant, it used to be a greenhouse in the past but they renovated it completely. During the weekends it was used only for weddings and big events, but during the weekdays it was a really nice restaurant. It was always full no matter the date.
Surrounded by big trees, it looked like a fairytale.
“The couple will be seated there.” Chad pointed. “It’s their anniversary from what I’m told. While family and friends will be waiting at the terrace.”
“And the fireworks they requested?”
“Done, security checked a hundred times to make sure we don’t get on fire.” He joked.
“It looks like you have everything under control, like you always do. Thank you.” Liv smiled at him.
A lot of people wanted to get married there, or celebrate something important like graduation, engagement parties.
Liv never stayed, especially when it was a wedding, it was Debbie or Chad who were in charge of those.
“I’m going to check the menu one more time, then I have to do some paperwork and after that I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
“Did I hear right? You are taking some vacation time?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yes, I'm looking for his owners.” Liv pointed at the dog outside.
“When was the last time you took a proper vacation?”
Liv stared walking to the kitchen. Chad following her. “Last Saturday, we had another wedding, and I wasn’t around.”
“That doesn’t count as vacation darling, that’s because of your allergy to weddings and love.”
“I’m not allergic, I just don’t like weddings.”
Chad looked at her with worry. “It’s been years now Liv.” He saw her getting distracted with the menu. “Don’t you think it might be time to give it a try?”
Tag list: @alreadybroken-ts @runnning-outof-time
#That's what Cill said#Cillian Murphy#cillian murphy x oc#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy fanfic
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"inspiration". | neil perry, dps.
in which a summer is spent with the poets, with a significant feature of neil perry.
✧ title: "inspiration".
✧ pairing: neil perry x fem!reader.
✧ genre: fluff, with slight mentions of angst.
✧ word count: 2,733.
✧ warnings: written in headcanon format, home life mentions, the reader lives in meeks' grandma's house, knox being a simp for chris.
✦ author’s note: requested by @mybabysweetascanbe! it's kinda funky how i wrote this as a headcanon but it still ended up being my longest fic lmao. also i wrote the poem that neil made for the reader myself so i'm sorry if it's kinda cheesy 🗿 but i hope you all enjoy this one !! don't forget to take care of yourselves guys <3
✎ The summer holidays had always been a time for the poets’ relief.
✎ Their academic year was constantly filled with difficulties for the poets, but it was harder for some when they were home for the summer.
✎ Neil felt as though he couldn’t be himself-- he loved reading and writing even more so than he did with accomplishing any of his parents’ wishes, like heading into medical school. He especially loved to act, and it was rough to keep that concealed around his dictatorial father.
✎ Todd’s older brother would be at home as well, and it was worse enough being in his shadow; but it had gotten worse with every one of his parents’ daily proclamations.
“We were quite disappointed with your grades from last semester, son,” His father reprimanded, looking down on him with stern eyes. “I just don’t understand what’s gotten into you. Your mother and I raised you quite well and you have your brother to guide you along. You know that he’s remarkably intelligent and well accomplished. Why can’t you be more like your brother?”
✎ Charlie and Knox had been just like Neil. The constant pressure that their parents put on them about becoming a banker and a lawyer was daunting; and all they wanted was to simply live as regular teenagers without concern for their future.
✎ Fortunately, Meeks’ grandmother was a woman who had a colossal and motherly love for the poets with a sizable residence in which her grandson’s friends could inhabit during their vacation.
✎ Thus, the poets resided in the Meeks household in the summer before their senior year so as to escape the stress and troubles brought to them in their own homes.
✎ Even though the summer was fleeting and their time was short, the poets found their time to be everlasting when they met the student boarder of the house.
✎ She went by the name of Y/N, which was a name that sounded just as sweet as the lady to whom it was attached.
“Hello, everybody! I’m Y/N!” The girl said, reaching out her hand to shake one of the poets’. Truth be told, it had been quite some time since any one of the boys had been in close contact with a woman; so they found themselves to be quite the martians in the situation. It took a few moments before one of the poets-- Neil Perry-- could offer his hand and shake hers. “I’m Neil! We’re friends of Meeks and his classmates from Welton.” The boy swore that he felt a spark as their fingertips touched, but he tossed the feeling aside; along with the apparition that he saw of a faint glimmer in Y/N’s eyes.
✎ The boys instantly took her in to their little group, and they all fell in love with her personality-- which was a platonic statement of course; but Neil Perry found this to be otherwise as he actually began falling into love with the new girl.
✎ He loved the way she cared for her new friends, the way she projected her personality through the clothes she wore, and all of the little smiles she gave him.
✎ With every beam and twinkle that she delivered, Y/N found herself to be falling for Neil as well.
✎ He provided a feeling for her that made the blacks of her eyes expand and butterflies to quiver inside-- which was the very same one Neil had felt when he first laid his eyes on her.
✎ She had been a fantastic addition to the band of poets, and the boys could not have had it any other way.
Despite the summer coming into fruition, the poets did not fail to meet up in their little cave every once in a while to read poetry, discuss girls, and laugh. The first meeting of that summer was simply like any other. “Guys, what do we think of Y/N?” Meeks questioned. A clamor of answers that ranged between “I think she’s great,” and “Do you think Mrs. Meeks has any more people in her house like Y/N?” echoed in the dark cave. Clearly, the boys had favored Y/N; but certainly not to the point where they’d be infatuated with her. “Yeah, I think she’s nice. She’s really pretty too,” Knox added. “Woah there Knoxious,” Charlie replied, expelling out a chortle. “I don’t think Chris would like to hear that. And besides, she looks more like she’s Neil’s type than yours.” Charlie’s words weren’t incorrect, but it was needless to say that Neil had strongly agreed with that statement.
✎ Over the summer, they would all begin to get to know each other better.
✎ The poets eventually introduced Y/N to the intricate realm of poetry, and she wholeheartedly fell in love with every line that was recited.
✎ They enjoyed every moment of their fleeting time together. Of course, there would be times where the boys would get into small fights and bickers.
✎ Pitts would always be yelling at Charlie for taking an ungodly amount of time in the shower, while Charlie would be yelling back about how Pitts always seemed to inhale the food that Mrs. Meeks provided for them before he himself could even take one bite.
✎ Cameron did his best to do some summer reading at night, but he found it quite hard as his room was beside Knox’s room, and Knox would spend hours on end talking to Chris over the phone.
“Oh, Chris. How do I love thee?” Knox sighed, lacing the telephone cords in between his fingers. “That’s the title of a poem we learned in Mr. Keating’s class. It reminds me of how lovely you are. Of course, she’s not as pretty as you are,” Knox’s giggles not only erupted through the phone; but it travelled through the walls as well, disrupting Cameron from the climax of his novel. “We get it, Knox! You’re a romantic poet! Now why don’t you go tell Chris about how you finished with a D minus in English!”
✎ While all of the little squabbles took place, they hadn’t even noticed the slight change in Neil and Y/N’s behavior.
✎ Y/N seemed to be keeping to herself more often, while Neil appeared to have possessed an undying smile on his face around the poets; particularly in the mornings when everyone gets up early except for him and Y/N.
✎ Little did they know, Y/N’s room had been vacant for the past few days since the arguments began-- which was approximately three weeks after the boys had arrived to the Meeks’ residence; and Neil seemed to be giggling in his room every night when the rest were asleep.
✎ In the duration of those three weeks, Neil had become more familiar with Y/N than any of the other poets had been.
✎ They’d walk along the nearby river every morning, discuss poetry in the late afternoons, and eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms at night.
“How long have you been living here?” Neil inquired, peering into Y/N’s eyes. His vision didn’t have to stretch too far as his face had only been a breath away from Y/N’s. The pair laid together under the warm covers of Neil’s bed with their legs entangled in one another’s and their hands interlocked, talking about anything and everything that came to their minds. “It’s been two years since Mrs. Meeks took me in,” She replied, gazing over Neil’s chiseled face. “In the whole time I’ve been here, I think you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me,” Y/N added, beaming up at Neil. Hearing her words, Neil slowly leaned his lips onto Y/N’s forehead, giving her an endearing kiss. She too had been the most interesting thing to happen to Neil in a long time.
✎ For each and every day that they were together, Neil wrote love poems.
✎ His poems revolved around his time with Y/N and included detail of all sorts; such as how colors appeared to be more bright and more vivid when he was with her and how lovelier the birds had sounded in the morning during their walks.
"My love,
The luminosity of the golden sun
does not compare to the radiance
of your glowing skin.
In this air full of morning dew,
the most beautiful scent in the air
is still you.
The sounds we hear of the melodious
birds are all because of your presence,
and they sing only for your beauty.
I look into your eyes and I see nature
reflected back at me; but it is much more
pleasant to perceive than if I were to do so
through my own set of eyes.
Though the morning lasts for a mere set of hours,
My fascination for you can go for as long as
this smooth river flows.
✎ Neil felt embarrassed about being so infatuated with Y/N, so he kept his poems hidden for the time being.
✎ Somehow, the boys had failed to notice Neil and Y/N’s constant disappearance.
✎ Although, they’d make little remarks from time to time that ran along the lines of “Ooh, Neil found a muse!” and “Y/N definitely likes somebody here. It’s probably me.”
✎ The last comment came from Charlie, which later earned him a smack on the head from Neil.
✎ So, Neil and Y/N did their best to keep their relationship hidden throughout the summer.
✎ The two were rather domestic in their relationship; they did all of the typical-couple activities that everyone else had done.
✎ To anyone else it would have been rather common to witness, but to them it was simply extraordinary being with one another.
It had been a scenic day at the river that morning. The beauty of the nature surrounding it had been ordinarily pleasing to Y/N; but all of its best qualities were magnified for Neil as his hand was in hers and the only thing he could smell was her fragrance. He had been quite nervous for the entire morning as he promised himself the night before that he would finally gather the courage to say those three magic words he’d been imagining to say for quite some time. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had been thinking the same and had been visualizing how she would say it at that moment for the past few hours since. Just when the cascading waters began to relax and the chirping of the birds started to quiet down, the pair stopped on their trail and those three words were finally professed by Neil in a sudden manner while Y/N had spoken the same in a clear and gentle tone. They looked into each other’s eyes, recognizing the same look of love and eventually realizing what was said. As it was acknowledged, the two lovers simply smiled at each other and kept walking along; their hearts now beating on the same rhythm and their minds thinking of nothing but one another.
✎ Time to time, they would go up to the attic and listen to the music from Mrs. Meeks’ old gramophone, caressing one another as they slowly dance along to the lyrics of Ella Fitzgerald’s songs.
✎ Neil would always sneak a flower out of Mrs. Meeks’ rose garden and leave it on Y/N’s bedside table for her to wake up to.
✎ One of Y/N’s ways of communicating her love would be recommending books to Neil that she thinks is encompassed with his personality. Since then, Neil’s library had enlarged to a great extent.
✎ There would also be some occasions where one of them-- mostly Neil-- would get a little cheeky and try to express their love for the other out in the open.
“Eat up, boys! You know there’s plenty more of where that came from, so don’t be afraid to dig in!” Mrs. Meeks endorsed, setting down a bowl of mashed potatoes. With a jubilant ‘thank you’, everyone at the table promptly began to tuck into the mouthwatering cuisine. The boys soon found themselves distracted with the heavenly taste of Mrs. Meeks’ cooking; and Neil took this opportunity to covertly sneak his right hand onto Y/N’s thigh under the table. A scarlet blush crept its way up to Y/N’s cheek as she sent Neil a glare. Though her eyes expressed the message of “Not here!”, every other signal in her body sent the message of ‘Yes, Please’ to a very triumphant Neil.
✎ The summer inevitably came to an end and the boys were forced to return to Welton, much to their dismay.
✎ They couldn’t stand ending their summer; and they especially couldn’t stand leaving their new friend behind while the rest of them stayed together.
“Oh God, How are we supposed to leave this beautiful girl all alone in this big house?!” Charlie pleaded, theatrically dropping down to his knees and shouting out loud to the heavens. “It’s all just too emotional for us,” Pitts added as he went along with his friend’s act, his head bowing down to the ground in grief as he placed a comforting hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Just take me with her, God! Let me be with Y/N at her all-girls school!”
✎ Despite all of the inconveniences they put upon Y/N, the poets really did leave a mark on her. These boys showed her a new way of life-- she knows what ‘Carpe Diem’ means, and she knows how to seize her days because of them.
✎ Of course, Neil had a harder time coming into terms with their departure more than anyone else.
✎ Leaving the Meeks’ residence meant that he was leaving Y/N, which was something that he hadn’t prepared himself for.
“I’m not ready to leave you,” Neil confessed. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. After the individual hugs and goodbyes Y/N had given to the rest of the poets, the ill-fated time had come when she had to bid her own farewell to her lover. Neil believed that though their time was short and fleeting, it truly had been something special and something that he’ll never forget. Y/N was his first love, his first muse, his first everything; and no amount of riches could ever sum up to the prominence of that. Y/N placed her hand on Neil’s face, stroking away his tears with her thumb as she felt her eyes begin to swell up as well. “I’ll write to you every day, Neil.” Naturally, Y/N was on the brink of tears as well. She couldn’t bear to leave Neil after everything he’s shown her. It feels like she’s known him forever, yet everything felt so new and exciting with him. She loved him too much, and she knows she’ll continue to love him long after.
✎ Neil was afraid that she would forget about what they had soon after she had left, so he decided to give her all of the poems he had written about her.
✎ As her hands clasped the thick set of parchment, the tears she had been trying so hard to conceal had all poured out, staining the paper and her hands.
“Neil… these are beautiful,” She croaked. Her eyes skimmed over every title and date, realizing that there had been a poem for each and every splendid day that they had been together. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. That’s why I wrote these,” Neil corrected. “Everything I love about you is in these poems, and all of the love I have for you is written in each letter. I just don’t want you to forget about me while we’re apart.” The absurdity of Neil’s words made Y/N chuckle softly before she stepped forward and linked her hands around Neil’s neck, reducing the space between their lips. “I love you, Neil. You’re always going to be in my mind and you’ll always have my heart in the little pocket of your Welton blazer.”
✎ Y/N felt truly fortunate to have met Neil. This summer had come as quite a surprise for her-- she did not expect to fall in love so soon and with such an extraordinary person like Neil Perry. He was everything she’d ever looked for and he gave everything she deserved.
✎ Even though the bright days of the summer had ended and the early falling leaves of the autumn was yet to arrive, the change was of no concern as the only thing that mattered was what had been consistent-- and for Y/N and Neil, the thing that stood still for the two of them despite all odds was each other.
dedicated to these lovely people!! @mybabysweetascanbe @disagreeingpoets @catflowerbean @galaxyrhytm @nananostalgic @ughgclden @towriteabetterlife @neilsemeraldsweater @yourpal @willowestelle
#dead poets society#dead poets#dps#dead poets society fanfiction#dps fanfiction#neil perry#neil perry x reader#neil perry fanfiction#neil perry fluff#neil perry angst#richard cameron#charlie dalton#knox overstreet#todd anderson#steven meeks#gerard pitts#jemi-writes#jemi-requested#jemi-dps
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@lansplaining encouraged me to finish this random meta nobody asked for, so let's talk about Meng Yao, Meng Shi, and 孟母三遷 (mèng mǔ sān qiān), a proverb about good parenting.
A warning: this is super long (even for me!) and is less quality meta and more my ADHD brain jumping around a maze of loosely related ideas. Proceed with caution!
Let me start by briefly going through why I decided to write this, because it’s important. In haunting Meng Shi’s tag in my starvation for Meng Shi content, I’ve multiple times come across the idea that Meng Shi pushed Meng Yao too hard, that she should’ve been more careful with teaching him to seek his father’s approval at any cost, and that she was too naïve. I’ve never reblogged this kind of post because 1) I personally think it’s rude to go out of your way to ramble about how much you disagree with someone on their own post and 2) if this was an isolated incident I wouldn't care either way, so I didn’t want to direct this rant at anyone in particular. It’s more to do with a tendency, primarily (as far as I can tell) from fans who haven’t had much contact with Chinese culture, to oversimplify Meng Shi and make her relationship with Meng Yao slightly disturbing, and I think part of it is due to CQL basically cutting out her entire storyline (so fans simply don’t have info about her to assess her fairly) and part is due to misunderstanding what a good parent is supposed to act like in the context of Ancient China.
[Of course, Ancient China is not a very useful historical concept, not any more than “ye olde Europe” - things change a lot based on time and place - but you know. It’s fantasy. Extremely broad trends are okay in this case.]
Anyway, the idea behind the posts I mentioned is, basically, that Meng Shi (usually through no fault of her own) is to blame for Meng Yao’s obsession with power, since his desire for approval was inherited from lessons she taught him. Just to start with, I’d argue that Meng Yao isn’t power-hungry as much as he craves security and respect, but that’s a different meta. Let’s assume that she really did teach him to be Like That. Was she wrong to do so? I’m not looking for “does that make for a happy, well-adjusted childhood?” or “would you raise your own son as Meng Shi did?” - I’m trying to figure out, would she have been considered a bad mother in the context of the society she lived in? I don’t think she would’ve.
It is surprisingly hard to find texts about the obligations of parents in Ancient China. Their main obligation is to raise filial children, but I feel like that’s not very useful: whether or not parents are good parents, children are expected to be filial, so a child being filial really says more about the child than about the parent. Maybe the parent completely missed the mark and society at large was what taught the child to be filial!
We can assume, of course, that parents were to raise good people, and that by learning what a good person looked like, we could figure out whether the parent was successful, but once again, I feel like that’s pinning things on the outcome, not on the process - the best of parents can end up with an awful kid and vice versa.
While thinking about all this, it took me a frankly embarrassing amount of time to remember the story of Mother Meng and Meng Zi, but once I did, it wouldn’t leave my mind - in part because the Meng here is the exact same Meng of Meng Shi and Meng Yao (yay! fun if useless parallel!), and in part because this is a story about how a woman can successfully raise a son by herself.
Okay, so important note: one of the most influential ancient Chinese thinkers is Meng Zi (孟子 Mèng Zǐ), who is known in the West as Mencius. If you've never heard of him - he's perhaps second in importance only to Confucius. When Mencius was still a young child, his father died, so he was raised by his mother, who is usually known only as Mother Meng (in Chinese, 孟母 Mèng Mǔ.)
Mother Meng's story is told in Biographies of Exemplary Women (列女傳 Liènǚ Zhuàn), which for around 2000 years beginning around the 18th century BCE, was the most commonly used book used to educate women. The book is divided into sections, each one showing a different way women could be honorable and good. Mother Meng's story is told in the Maternal Models section (母儀傳 Mǔ Yí Zhuàn.) The story has a few parts, some of which I'll quote, always from Kinney's 2014 translation.
Before I go on to quote it, though, I'd like to establish that Mother Meng's story is so, so famous that even if Meng Shi had never read this particular book, I'm almost certain she would've been familiar with at least the outlines of Mother Meng's story. I'm not cherry picking a suitable chapter from the book, I'm literally going with the most famous story in it because Meng Shi would be most likely to know this one if she knew no other story.
Okay, the first part of the tale takes place when Mencius is a young boy and Mother Meng is a widow raising him.
The mother of Meng Ke of Zou [a different name for Mencius] was called Mother Meng. She lived near a graveyard. During Mencius’ youth, he enjoyed playing among the tombs, romping about pretending to prepare the ground for burials. Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son.” She therefore moved away and settled beside the marketplace. But there he liked to play at displaying and selling wares like a merchant. Again Mother Meng said, “This is not the place to raise my son,” and once more left and settled beside a school. There, however, he played at setting out sacrificial vessels, bowing, yielding, entering, and withdrawing. His mother said, “This, indeed, is where I can raise my son!” and settled there. When Mencius grew up, he studied the Six Arts, and finally became known as a great classicist. A man of discernment would say, “Mother Meng was good at gradual transformation.”
According to the translator's footnote, "gradual transformation" is "a childrearing technique, whereby a child is morally formed through daily exposure to correct models of behavior."
From this story comes the proverb 孟母三遷 (Mèng Mǔ sān qiān) - "Mother Meng moved three times." It's come to mean that a parent - especially the mother of a male child - should spare no efforts to provide an environment that will give their child a good education, paying particular attention to what models are surrounding them.
I'm sure I don't need to say if Meng Shi was at all familiar with this proverb (and she would probably be), she must have been very stressed out over literally raising her son in a brothel. (Here I must mention sex workers in ancient China were often essentially owned by the brothels, so literally "moving three times" wasn't really an option for Meng Shi even if she could miraculously pick up another trade.) Meng Shi did however at least try to surround Meng Yao with the accomplishments appropriate for the son of a cultivator:
Xiao-Meng, are you still learning those things lately? [...] The things your mom wants you to learn, things like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going? [...] His mom’s raising him as a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him how to read and write, bought him all those swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.
Meng Yao actually talks a little bit about “those swordsmanship pamphlets” in the only time in canon he directly shares memories about this mother:
Lan XiChen, “Your [guqin] skills are also considered quite fine outside of Gusu. Were they taught by your mother?”
Jin GuangYao, “No. I taught myself by watching others. She never taught me such things. She only taught me reading and writing, and bought a handful of expensive sword and cultivation guides for me to practice.”
Lan XiChen seemed surprised, “Sword and cultivation guides?”
Jin GuangYao, “Brother, you haven’t seen them before, have you? Those small booklets sold by the common folk. First jumbled sketches of human figures, then deliberately mystified captions.”
Lan XiChen shook his head, smiling. Jin GuangYao shook his head as well, “All of them are scams, especially to fool women like my mother and ignorant children. You won’t lose anything by practicing them, but you definitely won’t gain anything either.”
He sighed in a rueful way, “But how could my mother have known this? She bought them no matter how expensive they were, saying that if I returned to see my father in the future, I had to see him with as much competence as possible so that I don’t fall behind. All of the money was spent on this.”
See what’s happening? Meng Shi cannot physically take Meng Yao to cultivators, but she spares no efforts in giving him the closest thing she possibly can -- figuratively, we might say she moved three times.
Of course, these booklets don’t work, but as Meng Yao says, how could she have known this? The cultivation world is very closed off - think of how the entire Mo household gathers to see Lan juniors, and how Wei Wuxian mentions once that “Cultivation families, in the eyes of common folk, are like people favored by God, mysterious yet noble.” Not just noble, but mysterious. That tracks, too - I mean, they live in inaccessible households and mostly leave to night hunt or visit each other, neither of which is an activity that would allow commoners to get much more than an occasional glimpse of them.
Now, if Meng Shi doesn’t even know that a pearl for Jin Guangshan was just a trinket, if she doesn’t know even the wealth of a major sect, how can she read booklets and decide whether that’s genuine cultivation or not? All that she sees is a chance for Meng Yao to be surrounded by the ideas and skills of the people she wants him to emulate - cultivators - and therefore she does everything she can to get him that chance. Mother Meng moved three times.
Okay, but maybe the argument is not “Meng Shi shouldn’t have pushed Meng Yao to cultivation” but rather “she should’ve pushed him, just not too hard." To that, I present another tale from Mencius' childhood:
Once, when Mencius was young, he returned home after finishing his lessons and found his mother spinning. She asked him, “How far did you get in your studies today?” Mencius replied, “I’m in about the same place as I was before.” Mother Meng thereupon took up a knife and cut her weaving. Mencius was alarmed and asked her to explain. Mother Meng said, “Your abandoning your study is like my cutting this weaving. A man of discernment studies in order to establish a name and inquires to become broadly knowledgeable. By this means, when he is at rest, he can maintain tranquility and when he is active, he can keep trouble at a distance. If now you abandon your studies, you will not escape a life of menial servitude and will lack the means to keep yourself from misfortune. How is this different from weaving and spinning to eat? If one abandons these tasks midway, how can one clothe one’s husband and child and avoid being perpetually short of food? If a woman abandons that with which she nourishes others and a man is careless about cultivating his virtue, if they don’t become brigands or thieves, then they will end up as slaves or servants.” Mencius was afraid. Morning and evening he studied hard without ceasing. He served Zisi [a great scholar whose grandfather was Confucius] as his teacher and then became one of the most renowned classicists in the world.
Notice that Mother Meng moved three times to ensure Mencius would have the highest of aspirations - to become a scholar. But just aspiration isn’t enough. Not by any means. Now that Mencius is actually studying, Mother Meng is willing to take an extreme action to ensure he's taking it seriously. Mencius doesn't have a father to smooth his path to success. He has to learn that aspiring to greatness isn't enough. He'll have to put in the effort as if his life depended on it. And if he doesn't persist in his hard work, everything he's done thus far will be useless. Sounds like a lesson imparted on young Meng Yao, doesn’t it?
A lot of fandom rage towards Meng Shi would apply to China's Best Mom Contender, Mother Meng. She gives her son big dreams, and teaches him how to go about achieving them in a society where failing is easier than succeeding. Yes, it's fair to say that Meng Shi taught Meng Yao to refuse to settle for anything less than being “Jin Guangshan's son, a respected cultivator.” Yes, it's also fair to say that she probably didn't allow him much time to play like children his age did. But unfortunately, in the world of MDZS, poor children probably wouldn't get to play anyhow, the difference is that they'd usually be working, not studying. Studying is a privilege! It’s a privilege Meng Yao could not afford but was given to him anyway, through his mother’s many sacrifices. We can even say that while she was alive, Meng Shi was trying to ensure Meng Yao would one day have a better life, at the expense of a fun childhood - and that's very Mother Meng of her, whatever our modern Western sensibilities might have to say about that.
Finally, I’d skip other tales (which show Mother Meng and an adult Mencius) and go straight to the poem that ends the Mother Meng section:
The mother of Mencius
Was able to teach, transform, judge, and discriminate.
With skill she selected a place to raise her son,
Prompting him to accord with the great principles.
When her son’s studies did not advance,
She cut her weaving to illustrate her point.
Her son then perfected his virtue;
His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.
I’d like to focus on the last verse - “His achievements rank as the crowning glory of his generation.” All that Mother Meng wanted was for Mencius to not completely ruin his life, but he became great. You can so very easily see a parallel with how Meng Shi hoped Meng Yao would be a cultivator but he became Jin Guangyao, Chief Cultivator, styled Lianfang-zun, one of the Three Venerable, hero of the Sunshot Campaign.
Of course you can say “Jin Guangyao did many Very Wrong Things to get there, though!” Which, sure, okay, fair point. How many and how wrong depends on which canon we're discussing, and your own interpretation, but there’s no version of the story in which Jin Guangyao is 100% an innocent child uwu. But blaming that on Meng Shi is just... straight up weird? I don’t see anyone going “If Jiang Fengmian hadn’t adopted Wei Wuxian, he’d never have dared become Yiling Laozu!” and that’s pretty much the same logic. Would street kid Wei Wuxian have invented a new type of cultivation if he had never been taken in by the Jiang? Probably not, but raising undead armies is very much not something Jiang Fengmian could’ve predicted. In the same way, how could Meng Shi have predicted that teaching her pre-adolescent son “You are the son of a cultivator, act like one and earn your place in society” would’ve ultimately resulted in innocent deaths? How could she predict “You’re not destined to having the same horrible life I did, you can get something better than this” was a bad thing to teach? I quite honestly don’t know.
Finally, I'd like to point towards a much flimsier evidence that Meng Shi did great as a parent. And that is Meng Yao’s love. Nie Huaisang at some point comments Meng Shi is someone who Meng Yao "cherishes more than his life," and I think his assessment is correct.
Even putting aside the fact he built a whole temple to get his mother to reincarnate into a better life, and even putting aside how he refuses to flee the country without her remains, there's still crystal clear evidence that Meng Shi must've done something right. Because a lifetime of people using his mother to bully him doesn't seem to have made Meng Yao resent her. Had their relationship not have been very strong, odds are he'd feel bitter and/or ashamed of her. That doesn't seem to be the case. He's attached to her even decades after her death.
I want to be very careful with equating mutual affection with good parenting, though. When I was a rather rebellious teenager, my mother (in typical Chinese fashion) used to say that parents and children don't have to love each other as long as they're dutiful to each other, by which she meant that a parent-child relationship isn't informed by warm and fuzzy feelings, but by whether you'd be willing to do anything for each other. Specific to my case, she meant "I don't care if it makes you hate me, you will do as you're told because that's what's best for you." (That may also be the reason why people more familiar with Chinese culture see the Jiang family less as outright abusive and more as #complicated, but that's another meta.)
Whether your kid wants to hug you every time they see you is of no consequence to traditional Chinese thought - raising them to be the best they can is all that matters, because at the end of the day, you won't be around forever, but you can definitely set up your kid's life so that it goes smoothly and virtuously. How that's accomplished varies depending on many factors, but to have the goal be "I want my child to love me" rather than "I want to raise my child right" would've been considered selfish as hell.
So even if all that Meng Shi had given Meng Yao had been stern lessons about the need to go get his birthright, she would've still have been considered a good mother!! In fact, she would've been doing everything she was supposed to do, under extremely difficult conditions! (Remember the importance of environment? That Meng Yao grew up to want to be a cultivator despite having probably never even met one speaks wonders about Meng Shi's childrearing powers!!)
But just based off how over the top Meng Yao's filal dutifulness is, I'd go a step further and say that even as she did the impossible, she was also loving enough to inspire genuine affection. This is complicated because children who have present fathers could expect their mothers to be tender with them. The first century BCE text 禮記 Lǐ Jì or The Classic of Rites says that:
Here now is the affection of a father for his sons - he loves the worthy among them, and places on a lower level those who do not show ability; but that of a mother for them is such, that while she loves the worthy, she pities those who do not show ability - the mother deals with them on the ground of affection and not of showing them honour; the father, on the ground of showing them honour and not of affection.
But when the father figure is lacking for any reason, the mother must abandon her tenderness because someone must guide the child, and without a father, the role falls to the mother. A single or widowed mother had to be very careful to not smother their children with affection and raise useless, spoiled kids, or so it was thought. (The presence of Qingheng-jun and Lan Qiren is why Madame Lan can be so affectionate with the Lan boys, by the way - if she was raising them by herself she would've been expected to be much more practical. AUs where she just gets her kids and runs away could do very cool things with this idea. But I digress!)
Where was I? Oh, okay. Because Meng Yao seems to not just respect, but actively miss her, it seems that Meng Shi somehow managed to deal with her son on the ground of both honor and affection, to paraphrase.
So basically, all things considered, it seems not only would Meng Shi have been considered a great mom (if people could look past her being a prostitute, anyway) but she also went above and beyond the bare minimum. She truly spared no efforts on any front to make sure her son had everything your average gongzi would have - someone to teach him and someone to love him, access to education and confidence in his birthright. That she couldn't actually make him a cultivator, that she couldn't actually raise him in a proper home with no one being cruel to herself or him - that's immaterial. Even Mother Meng couldn't control what her neighbors did, only what she taught her son! The key point is Meng Shi tried. She did everything she could to educate her son right. You couldn't ask more of her, and quite honestly, you should probably be asking less.
Of course we can't err on the other extreme and say she was Perfect. Given MXTX only ever writes flawed characters, we can safely assume that if we'd known more about Meng Shi, we would've seen many flaws. Indeed, just the fact she didn't teach Meng Yao the guqin when he apparently wanted to learn it might point to some conflict we don't know enough to speculate about (maybe she focused too much on cultivation when Meng Yao's interests lay elsewhere? Maybe she wasn't able to sufficiently shelter him and he felt it'd be a burden to ask her to teach him anything? Maybe maybe maybe, go wild with your fics.) Nevertheless, I would never hold a female character to a higher ideal than a male character - if the male cast of MDZS can be a hot mess and still be admirable for what they're trying to do, then so can Meng Shi.
At the end of the day, when I look at Meng Shi - and I've made myself a document with all the references to her in the novel canon so I could easily contemplate her life and character - all I see is a woman every bit as determined and resourceful as her son, willing to do everything it took to raise her little boy into the sophisticated and ambitious man he became.
Finally, here's a fun little parallel that I'm 100% sure was unintentional but I still love. I said Meng Shi couldn't have moved three times. She couldn't, but I think maybe she taught her son he was worth moving three times for. Qinghe Nie. Qishan Wen. Lanling Jin. Isn't that super fun to think about?
Alternatively, tl;dr: Oh My God I Can't Believe We're Blaming Women For The Actions Of Their Adult Children In The Year Of Our Lord 2k21, Meng Shi Was Doing Her Best, Chill!
#drinking game#take a shot every time i say 'finally'#this post refused to let me get to the end of it lol#i think because i'm extremely salty about fanon stage mom meng shi#(to not say tiger mom meng shi which crosses into outright racism. but i'm giving people the benefit of the doubt)
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But professor… - epilogue
Summary: It's been a year and a half since their little baby was born. How are the two of them doing?
Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)
Wordcount: 1.7k
Warnings: None
A/N: Is it the end for Penny and Walter? Yes, omg i can't believe. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it. The story took a full 180 (especially because I intended this story to be much shorter lol), but I'm very satisfied nonetheless 🥰
Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //
Declan has a plan and that is to go outside. I mean, it’s kinda fair, since he spend a lot of time inside today. Not that he complained. No, no, no, he was an absolute angel at the salon—like always—playing with his toys, while I was at work, but now he needs some fresh air after we had a quick snack at home.
This little man is definitely as head strong as his dad, however he isn’t as stubborn as Walter can be.
Declan attempts to throw a ball at me and I can see there is some definite improvement. Just like any kid at that age, he is distracted like that. ‘Momma, momma,’ he says, pointing to a truck that passes by. ‘Dada!’
‘Oh honey, that is not his truck,’ I say, crouching down next to him. ‘Dada is gonna become soon. In his other car. His work car.’
Declan points. ‘No dada?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Dada home?’
‘Almost,’ I say to him, giving him a kiss on his cheek. Declan stops playing altogether, staring at the road, waiting for Walter to come home. His mouth slightly agape, as he focused on every car that passes by.
Finally his car pulls up and I exclaim: ‘There he is!’ When Walter gets out of the car with a smile that is only this wide when he sees us, I let Declan go and watch him wobble over to his dad. With one hand he lifts the little boy up and presses kisses on his chubby cheek. ‘I missed you,’ Walter says, looking his son in the eye.
‘Dada miss, dada miss!’
He chuckles. ‘That’s right.’ He walks up to me and says: ‘There is my princess.’
‘Princess momma,’ Declan says.
‘Give me a kiss, sweetheart,’ he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I press a peck on his lips and melt against his frame.
‘It went splendid,’ I say. ‘I actually got to do someone’s hair for an important interview and afterwards, she came back to the salon and told me it went great!’
He smiles. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
After Declan was born, I stayed home for about six months, acclimatizing to being a mom and those sleepless nights. It was hard, I cried a lot and I was very scared. I think I hung on the phone with my mom about seventy percent of the time, while calling Walter the remaining thirty percent. I have adjusted pretty okayish, especially when Walter went to work, made sure I have nothing to worry about.
No stress, providing for the two of us as much as he can and Declan and I sure are lucky that Walter is the love of my life.
My parents helped me financially to go to cosmetology school, which was an absolute blast. It was around fifteen minutes from my place and Declan was always allowed to come with me.
He sure wrapped everyone around his fingers with no issue at all.
While Walter still is that grumpy detective he was when I met him outside of our house, he changes into a big fluffy ball, shaped like a human the second the front door closes. No matter how tired he was, how long his shift was, he pushes it aside to take care of his family.
We walk inside of our place and I tell him: ‘I made dinner.’
While I’m not a world class chef, I do manage to make some decent meals, especially because I wanted to make Declan’s baby food, since my mom raised me with that as well (though I was no saint and had jars as well stored in my kitchen, just in case).
‘Princess, I’m so lucky to have you,’ Walter says. Once we’re inside, he places Declan in the high chair and scoots his own chair closer to it, a silent message that he will help Declan eat today. ‘Okay, little fella,’ Walter says, ‘you gonna be a good boy and not spill the food over me?’
Declan nods. ‘Deccie, good boy.’
I give Walter a kiss, after placing his plate and Declan’s in front of him. ‘He has been such a good boy at the salon today, so it’ll go great, I’m sure.’
After I sit across Walter, he asks about my day. From the looks of it, he had a rough one. Thankfully enough happened at the salon today for me to talk about. While we’re still working on improving him sharing more details, but I kinda understand. With Declan repeating a lot of words recently, we get a little bit more careful with what we’re saying.
After Dinner, Walter and I curl up on the couch after Walter changed into something more comfortable. Declan places his head on my chest, his eyelids growing heavier before he stretches out his hand to place on Walter’s chest.
I nuzzle against Walter’s side.
‘He is so cute,’ Walter notes.
I smile. ‘He sure is. He has your curls.’
‘But your pout and eyes. How can I ever say no to this kid?’
I shake my head. ‘You can’t, honey. I tried it today and it was the hardest thing in my life.’
He starts to chuckle softly. ‘You got nothing to do tomorrow?’
‘No, why?’
‘Can you come down the precinct? I wanna show off the two of you.’
I smile. ‘Oh my goodness, you are so predictable. Of course, I can come by. Maybe I’ll even steal some of my mom’s cookies, tell them I baked them.’
He chuckles. ‘Oh, you shouldn’t be lying when at the police.’
Declan stretches himself and whines a little bit. ‘Momma,’ he says, looking up to see me.
‘Oh, I think someone is really tired,’ I say. ‘You wanna go to bed?’
He nods. ‘Deccie tired.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘Here, sweetheart, I’ll do it. You relax, okay?’ Walter stands up and after I gave Declan a kiss, Walter lifts him up and carries the tired little one up the stairs.
I watch my big buff boyfriend walk back into the living room and he places the baby monitor in front of us, before he sits back on the couch. That monitor basically is glued to Walter’s hand as he always checks up on his boy. I thought I would be the parent that worries the most, however Walter puts me to shame.
The two of them are as thick as thieves and it makes me so grateful that we have a son together.
‘How was work today?’ I ask him.
He shrugs. ‘There was a dad who left his kids in the car,’ he says, ‘in the burning sun, before literally running away. Took us two hours before we found him.’
‘Oh no.’
‘Yeah, it was painful. The kids are gonna be okay, but… It reminds me that Declan is a really lucky kid.’
‘Do those kids have someone to go to?’
‘Yeah, an aunt,’ Walter says, rubbing his face. ‘Come here, princess.’
I wrap my arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on his lips. ‘I missed you.’
Walter smiles. ‘I missed you too. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you two in the yard, waiting for me. Especially after a shitty day like this one.’
‘You know you can always call me,’ I say. ‘Really, I always want to listen to you. You before anyone else, okay?’
He nods. ‘Have I already told you today that you are a very amazing mother and how lucky I am?’
I shake my head. ‘Nope, not today.’
He pulls me on his lap and gives me a peck on my forehead. ‘Just everything you do and say to him… It’s like you always know exactly what to do and you stay so patient and kind.’
‘Oh, Walter, that’s too sweet. I can guarantee: it’s all because you stayed—or at least pretended—to stay calm. Had you not done that, I would absolutely freaked out every time Declan had a funny breathing.’ I ruffle through his hairs and ask: ‘Have I been good to you as well?’
‘What kind of question is that? Of course you have. I’m so lucky that I have you and you and I have a family. There is no one else in the world I would rather have with me for important events.’ He places his hand on my sides, pushing up my shirt. ‘Give me a kiss, princess.’
I willingly oblige and press my lips on his. ‘I love you, Walter.’
‘Oh, I love you too. I want your honest opinion and really be honest, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I chuckle.
‘What do you say if you and I have another one?’
‘Another what?’
‘Kid.’
My eyes widen. ‘Really?’ I ask. He actually wants another kid with me? I mean, I always figured we would have more than one kid, but that would be in the future a little bit further away.
But already another one?
‘Yeah and I mean, if you’re not ready, then I totally understand and I won’t bring it up until you are ready, but I personally would love it.’ He smiles and adds: ‘I mean, two of the most beautiful babies running around here? Together with my beautiful girlfriend, who I’ll make my wife someday?’
I should not be squealing, yet I totally do. ‘Walter, honey,’ I say with a chuckle. ‘I’d love to have another baby with you.’
He starts to smile even wider. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. I’d love for Declan to have a few brothers and sisters.’
‘A few? How many you thinking about?’
‘I don’t know. How about three kids? Or four?’
He starts to laugh. ‘Then you and I better get some practice in with some baby making,’ he chuckles. ‘Because this time it’s not gonna be an accident.’
I slap him across his chest. ‘Walter, what did I say about that word?’
‘Oh, right right.’ He gives me a kiss and says: ‘Declan wasn’t an accident, he was our surprise baby. Forgot.’
I place my forehead against his, wrapping my arms around his neck. ‘Forever and ever, right?’
‘Forever and ever.’
#walter marshall#walter marshall x penny townsend#walter marshall x oc#walter marshall x ofc#walter marshall x asian ofc#penny townsend#asian ofc#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#but professor
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Hey! 🌿 here, how about something with raising Tubbo with the Captain, but it ends angsty with Tubbo in a box on the SBI doorstep with two letters, one to Tubbo and one to Philza? If we can specify pronouns (I did read the rules I just can't remember the right now) male reader please?
🌿 beloved, of course. the concept of how sbi + tubbo came to be lives rent-free in my mind and I love this one so much i am going to think about it for a few weeks now. pronoun specification is encouraged for requests so no stress!! i hope you enjoy!
Don't forget to like to save, and reblog to share!
c!Puffy x m!Reader - My Baby [ft. sbi]
Genre: /rom, happy family -> angst
Warnings: giving up a loved one can be the best thing sometimes, </3
masterlist <3
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"Puffy he is super angry today, just a warning." You yelled as you handed Tubbo a very loud and very grumpy Tubbo. The boy hadn't slept all day and decided he was going to make it everybody's problem.
"What- no! It's your turn to take care of him!" You waved and blew a quick kiss towards Puffy and a very angry Tubbo then walked out the door to go get items for dinner and some dessert.
When you walked through the door about two and half hours later, you were a bit surprised to see Puffy laying on the floor, asleep, with a calmer Tubbo playing absentmindedly with some blocks. You laughed at the site, placing everything down and then shaking Puffy softly.
"Hey...Puffy go to the bed." She groaned but didn't argue and made her way to the bedroom. You turned back to Tubbo, considering what you should do.
"Hey Buddy, do you want to help me with dinner?" Tubbo looked confused but didn't refuse to you picking him up. You placed him in his chair not too far from you then got to work on placing groceries in the fridge, setting aside what would be used for dinner, washing what needed to be washed. Tubbo babbled, sometimes you'd respond to his cries, saying something like, "Oh yeah?" or "I understand, so true."
About an hour later, dinner was ready. Tubbo sat in his seat at the dining table now, the food set. You went to wake Puffy, who was still sleeping peacefully beneath the sheets.
"Hey," You whispered. She groaned a bit but rolled over at the mention of food.
"Hello." She laughed, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you down to her. You both walked back to the dining table, Tubbo entertaining himself with his hands.
A few minutes into dinner Puffy spoke up.
"Do you think he'll come back for him?" You hesitated with your answer. You knew that Schlatt could come marching back at any minute and take Tubbo from you two, despite his previous refusal to raise Tubbo. A part of you also knew that Puffy would be grateful to see her brother, but not at Tubbos expense.
"I think we'll be okay, and no matter what, we will always have time with him." You looked at Tubbo, taking Puffy hand.
"You're a great guy." She smiled.
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"Schlatt give me a fucking second alright?" He pushed past you, into the house.
"Where is he? Where's Tubbo, Y/N?!" He was drunk. The booze was practically dripping off of him and his breath absolutely reeked.
"He and Puffy are out right now. What do you want?" You crossed your arms, puffing your chest outwards, hoping to at least discourage him from doing anything.
Schlatt paced around for a few more seconds. Then something shifted. He stood tall, smoothed out his hair, then turned to you with the most devious smile he could've given ever you.
"Y/N, buddy, pal...we're both men here. So let's talk like men." He inched his way closer to you until he was standing directly in front of you. "Where the fuck is my sister and my son?"
"I already told you, they're gone. They went out for a few hours, I don't know where."
He stared you down, unwavering in his clear attempts to at least shake you.
Finally, he cleared his throat and backed down, silently stepping away and out the front door. Once it was closed, and he had a few seconds to walk away from the house, you turned and locked the door, then marched towards the bedroom.
In a small hidden wall at the back of the room, beside the closet, Puffy had been keeping a small Tubbo quiet, shushing him when he'd yell out, and slowly rocking him to sleep. You grabbed Tubbo from her, placing him in the crib, then helped Puffy out of the closet.
She hugged you, still trembling softly against you. "It's alright. He's gone." You rubbed her back.
"We can't," She let out a shaky breath, "We can't keep Tubbo with us. It's not safe. Schlatt is just gonna keep coming back until he finds him and-and I don't even know why, or for what." She rubbed her temple. She was right. It wasn't safe for Tubbo, and it definitely wasn't for you and Puffy. Your hearts would be broken, but at least he'd be safe.
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Dear Philza,
I would never imagine I would be doing something like this. I never thought I would be leaving my nephew on your doorstep, in the middle of the night, in a box with his favorite toys. But it has to be done. When Schlatt left him with me, I expected to raise him until he could go off on his own. But things have changed. I need to get away, and he cannot come with me and Y/N, not because we don't want him to, but it would be no life for him, especially not the life I want for him. A life I know that you can provide. All I ask is that you help him, give him a place to stay, friends to laugh with, and family to come home to at the end of the night. Do not look for me. I can't risk him or I being found. I hope you can give him what I cannot. I trust you'll know when the time is right to give Tubbo his letter. Much appreciated, and much love, Captain Puffy.
Phil placed the letter down on his side table and looked at the sleeping child next to him. Puffy had been nothing but kind to him and it's not like one more kid would make much of a difference. Besides his letter, there was another one, labeled Tubbo. He didn't open it just set it aside in a locked cabinet. What wouldn't be read for another 17 years was this:
Dear Tubbo,
Puffy and I never expected this to be the situation any of us would be in. When you entered our lives, we expected to grow old together, Puffy and I, and watch you take the world by storm. We can't. And that isn't your fault. We still believe you'll take on this world, you'll rule it one day. We just will be watching from afar. I hope that this letter finds you at a time when you need guidance, and this can provide you. Follow your heart always. Follow what you know to be true. If you decide to seek us out, only do it when you're safe. You're father...is a man of pride. You may follow his footsteps one day, and if you do all I ask is that you always put right before wrong. Evil will never persevere. But good? Light? That is what keeps the world going, keeps it spinning every day. Enjoy your youth Tubbo, never let your past nor those around you define who you are. With love,
Y/N & Puffy.
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#c!captain puffy x reader#c!captain puffy x y/n#angst#c!captain puffy angst#found family#sbi imagine#puffy imagine#captain puffy imagines#mcyt fanfiction#mcyt imagine#mcyt x reader#mcyt x y/n#dsmp imagine#dsmp x reader#🌿#🌿 anon#sbi au#sbi + tubbo au
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Your writing is so much fun! If you feel like it, maybe some more Emperor/Empress? maybe some people want to put pressure on Emperor Zhou but forget that Empress Wen isn't a pampered noble who has never held a weapon in his life?
Hahaha... Thanks! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed reading my works thus far (❁´ω`❁)
I hope you’ll like this one too!
Note: Prince Xu here refers to Zishu (just in case anyone is confused)
There are some parts that will only make sense if you have read this chapter (AO3 only). Takes place after this chapter.
--
Each Minister, with temples streaked with greys and whites, eyes shrew and calculating, all looked at each other in turn; each men had grown up in the comfortable bosom of the capital, none had ever tasted a grain of sand or a moment of hardship in their route to power. All of them were born of the aristocracy so entrenched and deeply rooted in all sectors of society that they have never had a day of worry about their place or their families’ paths in life. It would be simpler to say that their forebears laid the foundation for this nation and their children will reap the fruits of it for generations to come if they are careful.
And this would have been the case, had it not been for the august personage currently occupying the golden seat.
Even before Prince Xu had reached his majority, he had been a pillar of strength to the South and by the time he was crowned a Prince of the First Rank, his military exploits could fill halls with their glory and there was no doubting that he will be a repelling force by mere presence alone. If he had any designs on the throne, it would have been easy for him to build his own faction to stake a claim for it.
But he had not done such a thing. If anything, he made sure to throw his support fully and utterly behind the Crown Prince and to only return to the capital for special occasions that merited his being there. When the old Emperor had died, that had been the longest period of time he had stayed in the capital. Going as far as to have a battalion of his men stationed within marching distance of the city gates as a deterrent to any dissent when the Crown Prince took the throne.
It’s a pity that Emperor’s reign was too short for him to have made a proper mark on the passage of time.
By the time Prince Xu had slicked the flagstones red with the blood of those traitorous scum in revenge for the death of his brother, there was no place for him to go but ascend into the highest position of prestige in the land.
Every single Minister can still remember the way Prince Xu looked as he had led his men right up to the throne room; stalking forth in his armour at the head of a hundred men, face streaked with glory and gore, carrying the sunlight on him as he climbs the last steps up to the throne room. If he had been mistaken as some primordial war god at that moment then, no one would have been surprised.
And then there was the Empress.
The Empress who had borne the Emperor a son and has just birthed another, thus securing the Dragon lineage. The Empress who was still the only official wife of the Emperor, and if the spies in the Inner Palace are to be believed, the only one the Emperor would even deign to look at and listen to - much to the consternation of the Ministers who had hoped to push at least one of their enterprising daughters and granddaughters into the Son of Heaven’s bed.
The Empress who was very much distinctly, a man.
Which makes what they’re doing something that borders on treason and necessity itself.
That man’s influence on the Emperor and the Court cannot continue and must not be allowed to. The gathered Ministers drink their tea in silence, watching the door for the messenger who will bring the report of their success.
They know they cannot lay a hand on either the Crown Prince or the newborn prince; the Emperor has them well-guarded and wrapped in the security of his most trusted guards who were beyond reproach and bribery. But it did not mean they could not get to the Empress. There were more than a few Palace maids and eunuchs who were still loyal to these deeply rooted families; people they have forged connections with that had spanned generations. These were the people they’ve tasked to attend to the Empress during his confinement.
It will be easy to dispatch of an eyesore who should have never been crowned in the first place.
Someone clears their throat and another sets his teacup down a little harder than it should be. Each one of these men looked peaceful on the surface, wrinkled face unmarred by any visible markers of stress. In fact, if anyone were to look into this group of men, they would have thought they were all bound for enlightenment at any moment. But the tension of waiting is punctuated by the changing of the hour and under the placid surface was nothing more than the seas in the middle of a storm.
They were about to call for an attendant to refill the teapots, when a long shadow colours the doorway. Their first instinct was that this was their moment of victory but that quickly sours into the cold realisation of who the person is.
“Your Highness...”
The Ministers rise in a flurry, going to their knees, bowing in flustered and fear tinged greeting.
The Empress smiles. His tall figure is hidden by a long black cloak which does little to downplay the sheer imposing nature of his presence as he crosses the threshold, calmly looking around the gathered members of the Court here. His long dark hard is pulled back in a simple undo, adorned with clasps of gold and turquoise. “Good evening, sirs,” He says, still wearing that smile. Someone bustles forth with a chair and the Empress sits. It is then that they realise that with him are ranking members of the Palace Guards who loom in their dark uniforms and the severe glints of their swords.
“If you’re looking for the Emperor, he isn’t here. He has been provided with a suitable diversion with our children,” The Empress says sunnily, accepting a proffered cup of steaming tea. Sighing as he takes a sip, he calmly regards them with a cheerful sensibility that was at odds with the way the troop of Palace Guards immediately take up all corners of the room.
This does not bode well.
“The way I see it, you have two options. One, you confess to an attempted assassination on this one’s life. In court. In front of all your peers, in front of my husband. Now, I’m sure you all know what he is capable of. What we are both capable of. Your crime will implicate not only you but your families as well,” The Empress says solemnly.
A cold silence descends. “Minister Jing, how is your new grandson, hm? Just celebrated his full moon, didn’t he? And how about your new concubine, Minister Tan? Pregnant, isn’t she? And at your age too.” The Empress huffs, passing the teacup back to the young maid next to her. “Ministers, I could go on.”
“And the second?” Someone quietly asks.
“The second is a warning. Not for you, but for everyone who comes after you.”
With a languid flick of his wrist, he calls forth General Han Ying who unlatches the cover of a plain box to reveal lengths of white cloths. The meaning is clear.
“Of course, it won’t be all at once and I am not so unimaginative that you all will... Leave the same way,” The Empress chuckles, closing an elegant hand over his lips. “Choose this path and we will arrange everything for you. From the second it begins to the moment it ends and to what comes after. You won’t have to worry about a single thing. No one else gets hurt.”
One of the elder Ministers shudders, lifting his head. “This is cruelty.”
“This is a blessing,” The Empress counters, all trace of geniality gone. All gathered cower lower to the ground.
How could they have forgotten? When this man was crowned, he’d been crowned with blood still rusting on his armour and dripping off the edge of his blade. This was the man their Emperor has chosen and for good reason.
With the quiet rustle of fabric, the Empress stands, apparently satisfied with the display of his magnanimity for the day. “You choose.”
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